#charlie is the bar in the sense that he is Stuck in time and can be counted on to not change

[dennisboobs]

i really do believe a huge part of why jbolle89's Summer Gods gets rec'd so fucking consistently as Thee charden fic is because every other goddamn fic is charlie whump where dennis is a cartoon villain who does evil things for the sake of being evil perhaps (!) the underlying appeal of charden is the fact that dennis deeply cares for charlie and doesn't want to hurt him just for the sake of it. maybe dennis is naïve and trusting and charlie takes advantage of that, yet it never makes dennis underestimate him any less. maybe this makes him even more fond of charlie, because he isn't willing to roll over and do tricks; he's willing to challenge him, expose dennis' farce of "control", because charlie only lets him believe he's in charge as long as it's mutually beneficial. maybe charlie doesn't need a father, but he wants to feel safe, knowing that someone's looking out for him. maybe den's relationship with charlie humanizes him, and maybe charlie's relationship with dennis demonstrates he's not as stupid as everyone seems to believe. maybe they're just a couple of lost boys out of time, and the thing they both look for in each other is deeply Weird to everyone else but them (maybe it's also Weird to them, but they'll never delve into that). maybe the knowledge that they will always be there for the other to run back to is the most important element of their relationship. because what could be more terrifying to a child trapped in an adult's body than change?

[deadghosy]

WHAT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK READER ?!

Hungry for some kidneys 😋🏃‍♀️

STOPPP CAUSE I HAD A CRUSH ON HIM- WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME BRO😭 I THOUGHT THIS MAN WAS SOOOO FINE🦆💗 which he still is 🤭😘

HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK! READER

prompt: an eyeless man gets dared to go inside of a cartoon for some free “food”

Ben had dared you to go inside of this cartoon show that was becoming popular. You said hell no of course….but then he said the impossible…

“Would you either go in the cartoon for kidneys or listen to me tell you the whole script of the new movie.” Ben says with a knowing smirk at which one you would chose.

Never in your life have you jumped into a tv before so quick. But here you are as you stand in the middle of a red twin with dead bodies around. So you smile behind your blue mask and got to work.

You were so busy kidney hunting, you didn’t notice a tall red figure behind you smiling intrigued at how you were only looking for kidneys with your scalpel. You felt skinny hands touch your shoulders as you immediately tried to stab the hand quickly. But it was a wrong move because you got pushed by some green magic.

“Quick reflexes. Amazing my friend! You would do good for this hotel im helping” the man said as you stared at him. Before you could protest you got transported to a damn hotel.

NOW ENOUGH STORY MODE TYPE SHIT! NOW FOR THE FUN🔥

I imagine Angel one time seeing you use your tongues to eat a kidney that was in disguise and Angel had so many dirty jokes for you.

“Omg, I bet you’re a woman pleaser aren’t you?” Angel says suggestively as you just raise a brow at him not knowing what he is saying.

Charlie would try to get you to wear brighter colors, but you literally deny it as if you are still stuck in your emo phase making Charlie get war flashbacks to her own emo phase.

Imagine taking your bluemask off and scaring sir Pentious into thinking you are a ghost to steal his eyes😭 so evil but so funny.

I can see husk literally side eyeing you as you just eating. Like he is just so confused how you don’t bite on none of your other tongues.

I know some people draw ej with black fingernails, but what if Angel had painted them for you instead 💗

Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel is like “ah shit I lost my wallet..” and STARTS TO LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR EYES 😭 straight up digging his hands in ya eyeless holes to look for it and he actually did find it with a smile saying “ah Hah found it!”

Legit Angel will remind you of Ben as Angel will shove his phone in your face saying some dumb shit like. “Do you see it? Do you see it ? Do you see it?” As he has a stupid smirk on his face. You snapped grabbing Angel by his throat as the crew tried to pull you off of Angel as he struggles to breathe. “It was worth it…”

I headcannon EJ! Reader and Alastor being compatible friends because they both eat from human meat. But both different as EJ! Reader just eats the kidneys as Alastor eats the whole things

NAH IMAGINE KID EJ!READER GETTING THE LEFTOVER KIDNEYS FROM PARENT! ALASTOR’S PLATE😭💗💗 (so damn cute)

“No no, you use the little fork and the knife to cut it.” “….I literally eat with my hands.”

Just two hungry boys staring at each other while discussing flavors to make out of people.

The egg boiz likes to bring you dead sinners as you had promised them to read them bed time stories for kidneys..I mean a fair trade is a fair trade. 🦆

Idk but for me it makes sense for EJ! Reader to bite someone’s hand while sleeping cause in the fanon! slender house they are use to pranks being pulled off so many times.

Literally husk was trying to wake you up cause it was your duty to do the bar tendering and you ALMOST bit his whole hand off if it wasn’t for Husk’s scream.

I can see Lucifer trying to show you his ducks because he found how amusing how quiet and blunt you are as he practically shoved a duck in your face forgetting you don’t have eyes.

“Do you see how cute and amazing this is?! It’s a duck that can do the splits while shooting fire!” “I see.” *awkward silence* “I’m so sorry-” “sorry for what.”

I can see how your dynamic with Lucifer is like “I think I forgot something x I have it in my hand..”

Charlie once had you in red as you actually just stood there while she took photos of you. It was like you were ready for the first day of school as Charlie squealed happy to see her new staff wearing red.

“SMILEE!” Charlie say excited as you just stand there trying to smile but it came out strained showing all of your sharp teeth. “Yeah don’t ever smile again.” Angel said in the background as you jumped at him like foxy in fnaf 2 😭

I imagine you just standing there as Alastor puts his arm on your shoulder like an arm rest. Literally you are “😐 what?” face as Alastor is obviously “😄 what a lovely day!”

I can see you and niffty just playing random games during break time as husk just cleans glasses at the bar. It’s a relaxing sight for once without you trying to get someone’s kidney.

I imagine you and Adam having so much beef as he is annoying asf to you.

“Why are you eyeless? So you can’t see how ugly you are?” “No, so I can’t see how fat you basically are so it won’t affect me.”

THE WAY YOU GAGGED HIM- 😭🤭‼️

I can see the Vee’s trying to get you on their side but you would probably just flip them off as you eat a kidney.

I can imagine Vaggie trying to find out why there is black goo on the hotel stairs to find you are crying since Charlie banned you to scalpel anyone’s kidneys.

Vaggie and Charlie give you the angel dust treatment and try to find any scalpels you have in your room

I can see after the battle of the heaven and hell, you would just stand there like “🧍🏾what the fuck just happened..” as you try to scalpel a few angels only for vaggie to pull your blue hoodie away from one.

When Lucifer first met you, he thought you was a teen demon who just got hired. He wasn’t wrong for the hired part, when you first spoke that man thought he heard god himself as his eyes were wide at you.

I can headcannon Alastor bringing a sinner to your door with a note that say, “eat well <3” and you just stand there like….. “did I just get adopted by a cannibal..” you said picking up the unconscious sinner and grabbing a scalpel.

NAH CAUSE I USE TO BE FERAL FOR THIS MANNNN😨😭😭💗💗 HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!🦆‼️

[kelppsstuff]

Reading your recent post actually made me tear up, in public of all places, I want to give the two of em some.. uh.. comfort

New resident in Charlie's hotel! Who might it be?

Well, since sir pentious can rise, another can go down, right?

Let's say that the reader might've killed one demon before when she joined them in their exterminations

It makes me wonder so damn bad what'll lute and Adam react when they see this demon, the painstakingly similar in body, height, physique darling who, even when damned to hell, still kept her sweetheart personality

This is to soothe the sadness I felt from reading that

“I’m so fucking sorry!” Part two

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death.

Summery: After you die for Lute and Adam they find how your reborn a sinner.

Taglist: @lutesb1tch @strawberryclumsy @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @mimmieme

When you died you didn’t expect for you to be reborn a sinner. You had lived an after-life of pure righteousness. The only thing you had ever done was defend yourself and accidentally killed a sinner. So to say you were shocked was an understatement.

You wanted to see Adam and Lute again, but you knew how they felt about sinners. Would they just toss you aside?

You knocked of the newly build hotel, nervous. The door opened and the Princess opened the door. She immediately knew who you were. You looked the same besides slightly larger black wings and the horns on your head. “I had no where else to go.” You voice small and timid.

You waited for her to slam the door in your face but instead she smiled brightly. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I felt so sorry about you death. And some how I even felt sorry for Adam.” She mumbled the last sentence but I still caught it. Adam.

He hated sinners the most. Sure Lute could maybe get behind the fact your one now but she had known Adam longer. Would she choose him over you. If it came down to a choice you’d want her to choose him, so neither of them stayed alone.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

The princess hugged you and showed you around.

—

You had spent the next month getting situated. You found it hard to look in the mirror. You looked so different. A new feature that you had was fangs. They slightly stuck out every now and then. But you noticed when you got mad they’d grow along with your horns.

Today was the same as every other. Wake up, clean around the bar, show sinners to there rooms, go to sleep. Though as you were looking down at the room booking book you heard a voice. A very familiar voice.

“Room for two.”

Adam. You looked up in shock and saw him there Lute right by him. You could see the glare in his eyes.

Adam hadn’t recognized you. But the woman beside him did immediately. Lute felt a sense of happiness wash over her as she saw you. She didn’t care about your new look. All she cared about was that you were here.

The two originally came to completely destroy the hotel and every time they’d rebuild it they wanted to tear it down again.

“A-Adam.” You turned your head to Lute tears of joy and shock in your eyes. “Lute.” Lute gave you the brightest smile you ever saw and was quick to jump over the desk, hugging you.

Adam at first was about to question the hell out of Lute. But when your voice replayed in his head he felt the weight on his chest lift. Was it really you? Did god hear his pleas? “Y/N?” Adam asked, he had to be sure, if this was some joke he’d tear down heaven and hell both.

You looked up over Lutes shoulder and smiled nervous at him. “Hi Adam.” He could hear the nerves in your voice but he didn’t give a shit.

He — just like Lute — jumped over the table and hugged you both. You could feel the breath leaving your body as they started to held you too tight. But you didn’t pull away, finally happy, finally with them. Your heaven. “I missed you guys.” You said to the two. Voice full of love.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you died on us. That totally did not rock.” Leave it to Adam to make his two girls laugh.

Adam felt joy, it had been the first time Lute laughed since the incident. Adam always tried to crack a joke to make her smile, but it was always dimmed.

“I’m a sinner now.” You were scared. This was the moment you were prepared for them to turn their backs on you. But you should have known better, they’d never turn their backs on their sun.

“We couldn’t care less.” Lute pulled away from the hug and cupped you cheek, leaving a friendly kiss on your lips. “Yeah listen to her hot stuff.” Adam spoke and he kissed your other cheek.

Finally with the people who you belonged with.

—

Over the next course of months Adam and Lute would visit you. They talked to Sera and gave the okay on the Hotel. But even if Sera said no, they’d still visit you and every now and then bring a certain snake occasionally.

They two angels had started to noticed you avoiding mirrors and when you saw one you’d just stare at yourself until someone pulled you away.

They watch you look at you reflection out the window. The two sat on your bed, staring at you worried.

Adam was the first to speak, filling the silence in the room. “You okay babe?”

We’re you okay? You didn’t know.

Nothing about you was okay anymore, so you thought. Your white pure angelic wings were now tarnished in black. You’d lost your halo. Nothing about that was okay. But you’d put on a show for them.

“I’m okay, Adam.” You’d never really called Adam and Lute by their names unless you were worried. You’d call Adam, apple and Lute, wild girl. “No your not.” Lute said in her knowing voice. You sighed, you can’t really hide anything from them can you?

“I’m hideous. I’m a sinner, I should be holy and yet I’m a monster.” You could feel the tears looking at your words.

“Your not a monster.” Lute tried to comfort you.

“LOOK AT ME!” You turned to them, horns bigger than normal, fangs longer, eyes glowing red. “This is who I am now!” “And I love you just the same.” She spoke as she made her way to you. Adam unusually quiet.

“How could you love me, when I don’t even love myself?”

Adam shook his head in disbelief at your words. He got off the bed and made his way to you. Cupping your cheeks and looking tenderly into your eyes he spoke. “You should know better than anyone that loving someone isn’t a choice, it’s a gift. You loved me at my worse, of course we would love you through hell and back.” He leaned down and placed a familiar kiss onto your lips. He wrapped an arm around your neck and his other around Lute, pulling you all into a comforting hug.

Maybe, maybe everything would be okay. And maybe Adam and Lute really did love you still.

Who are we kidding, let’s stop with the maybes. They loved you more than ever.

—

HI I’m sorry if this was a bit short, but i hope it brought you the comfort you wanted! Thank you for liking this little journey with Adam, Lute, and Reader. Have a great day! 💛

And a little extra!

You smiled as you squeezed Lutes hand. She had done so good bringing a little girl into the world.

Adam cut the umbilical cord while you took care for of Lute. Adam looked up to you smiling and gestured for you to come to him. “I’ll be right back you wild girl.” You whispered to Lite and walked over to Adam. You looked at the crying baby, she looked just like her dad ironically. “Hold her.” Adam whispered to you. You turned to him in shock. What? You would have thought Adam would want to be the first person to hold his daughter. “Go on.”

You picked her up and started to rock her, bringing her over to Lute, Adam putting his hands on your shoulders lovingly, before giving a kiss to Lute.

Lute cried while she held her baby. Adam crying as well, and gosh you were practically sobbing in happiness.

Some would think you’d be jealous over the two, but that wasn’t the case. You all loved each other equally and you would love that kid as if she were your own. “What’s her name?” The only thing the two had held off on telling you. You didn’t know why, but you were excited to hear what to call the little chipmunk.

Adam and Lute looked to each-other smiling before turning there heads to you.

“Y/N.” The two spoke together and you swore your heart stopped. “What?”

“Y/N. After the person to show us what heaven really is.” Tears flew down your face as you all FOUR hugged.

When little Y/N turned 1, you had been pregnant with two twins on the way. This is what a happy ever after really is. You all three though as you watched Little Y/N playing in the sand. Adam and Lute holding your belly.

—

THANK YOU FOR THE IDEA! This was such a cute scene to write! 💛

Taglist

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 5 - Confrontation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: While out for a walk, you run into everyone’s ‘favorite’ Overlord, resulting in a brutal altercation. Recognizing the danger you put yourself in, Alastor is all too willing to offer another deal. 

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, Valentino so yeah, mentions of blood and bodily harm, eventual smut (it will return), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (You're on it!) Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When you asked Alastor to prove himself to you, you half expected him to just continue ignoring you around the hotel. He seemed like the type to keep any personal interaction behind closed doors. Keeping some privacy isn’t a bad thing. Before the deal, he stuck to doing his job around the hotel, helping Charlie with whatever new idea or ask she had, and broadcasting his evening radio show. Every so often he might have a drink at the bar, making small talk with Husk and Nifty, otherwise he kept to himself in the shadows.

These last few weeks were slightly different. If he grabbed a coffee, he also poured one for you (always using one of his mugs). He made a point of being at every group activity, standing practically on top of you with a hand on the small of your back. He often offered to accompany you into town if you were going for a walk. “I just enjoy your company dear” he would reason. You’re far from complaining, however, the other residents were starting to notice.

“Alright what’s the deal?” Husk thumps your drink on the bar, his aggressive tone catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Al – what the fuck is going on there? I thought you had more common sense than associating yourself with his sorts.”

Fuckin ouch.

“I have plenty of sense Husker,” you hissed with irritation at what he was insinuating. Vaggie and Angel silently take their seats next to you, feeling the tension of the conversation. “– and if you must know we discovered we have more in common than we thought. You of all people should know keeping someone of his sorts on good terms is wise. Thank you for your concern though.” You throw back your drink, slamming the empty glass into the bar as you stand up.  

Husk tries to smooth over your venom, “Listen kid, you’re still pretty new to Hell…I’m just –“

“Thank you again Husk! Talking with you is always a pleasure.” You cut him off, putting on your jacket and walking towards the hotel doors.

Footsteps trail behind you - followed by a hand on your shoulder, “Hey doll, don’t be too upset with him. We all just….we worry is all. Smiles is still Mr. Mystery pants. Charlie seems to be the only one not worried about his intentions.” Angel offers you a cautious grin. His smile always seems to brighten your mood.

You place your hand on top of his, “Thank you hun. I’m not mad and I understand everyone’s… apprehension…. But I need you guys to trust that I know what I’m doing. You all have enough to worry about around here.” R̵͚̀ŭ̴͓l̷̥̓ȩ̷͒ ̷̢́#̵̧͌3̶̫̈́ ̴̬̾N̶̬͊e̷͇͂v̵̞̚ę̴̿ŕ̵̖ ̵̟̈́ḅ̶͂r̷̤̔í̸͜n̴̳͌g̴̫͐ ̶̢͠a̸̳͝n̶͕̐y̴̓ͅo̸͎̐n̷̚͜ȩ̷̇ ̸̪̑ẗ̶͈́ő̴͜o̷̺̊ ̵̛̬c̴̘̀ľ̴̹o̶͇͗s̸̠̾e̴͇͝

Needing some time to yourself, you decide to take a stroll through Pentagram City. The streets could be dangerous when traveling alone, but Carmilla was kind enough to let you leave with some…equipment. Like a nervous tick, you palm the carmine knife sheathed on your waist. You always hope there isn’t a need to use it but can never be too careful.

Heaven’s embassy clock ticked down, showing less than 100 days until the next extermination. You sigh at the thought, taking notes as you walk. Every year you mapped out places you would be needed most, where you could hide sinners, alleys you could use to corner or escape the Exorcists. Maybe Alastor could help me this time? He did say together we would be more powerful.

Lost in your plans, you don’t realize you’ve started pacing the streets of the V’s territory. It isn’t until you hear someone yelling down an alley that you become aware of your surroundings.

“Listen here, you little fuck – you’re our lowest earner this month and I’m in a bad mood so…” a large demon pins a rabbit-like sinner to the alley wall, pulling a pink and white gun from his hip. “I figured you could help me BLOW off some steam. Now, now, baby - hold still for me and don’t make too much of a mess hmm?”

You look closer and recognize the tall moth demon.

Fucking Valentino.

You see red and make your way down the alley. Hearing your footsteps he turns but not before you blindside him, body slamming him to the ground. The sound of metal echoes as his gun slides across the pavement. The poor sinner runs off without a word. You’re welcome, I guess. You bend over the disoriented Valentino.

“Tough luck being out here today Val – Coincidentally I’m also in a bad mood so let’s have a chat.”

With a gust of his wings Val pushes himself off the ground and towers over you. “Ohhhhh aren’t you CUTE. Ya know people would pay good money to see a spicy chiquita like you fucked into her place, however that little stunt just sealed a different fate for you.” Smoke floods around you, wrapping tightly around your body. Your feet leave the ground as he pulls you close enough to run his tongue across your cheek. “Hmmm…tasty. Maybe I shouldn’t kill you. I could do quite a bit with this body of yours.”

A cynical laugh erupts from your chest. “Oh please – set me down. Save us both the embarrassment.” He cocks an eyebrow at your demand and tightens his smoke’s grip.

Feeling the crack of your ribs almost knocks all the air out of your lungs, but your rage is stronger than any pain. I’ve watched him hurt Angel one too many times. 

“Wrong answer Val.” You concentrate your power, hands aglow as they conjure tiny, razor-sharp needles. With a swift flick of your wrists, they pierce and slice through Val's wings. “Cool thing about needles, they can help pull you together or tear...you…apart.” He howls from the pain, loosening his grip on you. With a little more room to move, you pull yourself back and headbutt him with so much force his glasses shatter. The blow makes his smoke disappear and you drop back to the ground. Time for some fun.

Unable to see clearly - Val frantically feels around for his gun. Pathetic. Crushing his hand with one foot, you use the other to deliver a full force kick to his chin, sending his gold tooth down the alley. “You little BITCH! Who the fuck do you think you are!?” he growls as blood pours from his mouth. You climb on top of him, pinning him down with a knee slowly crushing his dick. Screams of pure agony echo off the surrounding walls.    

You grab his face with one hand and pull the knife from your waist, digging the point into Val’s cheek, “You lay your hands on any of your employees again, I’ll make sure this knife gets buried into your chest. Now be a good boy and let me decorate that pretty little face.” You turn his head and hastily carve “spurc” into his cheek. He cries out with each attempt to move, feeling your knee dig deeper into him. “Shhhh you can take it baby, come on, we’re almost done. That’s what you tell them, right? NOW HOLD STILL.” Mocking his pain you turn his head the other way, slicing “issime” into his other cheek. Blood pours from his face, staining your hands and wrists. “Spurcissime – complete filth. Quite fitting I think.”

You stand up to admire your work and release the demon writhing on the ground. Time to go. Turning to leave, you hear Val call out to someone. What is he crying about now? Without warning you’re hurled against the brick wall - your head taking the worst of the impact. As you struggle to pull your body off the ground, a large, blue claw wraps around your neck to pick you up. Between the blow to your head and your now rapidly declining oxygen, your strength dwindles.

“Are you fucking kidding me Val –You got your ass beat by Carmilla Carmine’s secretary!?”

How the fuck does he remember me?

“No she’s not –“ Val tries to warn but is ultimately ignored.

“It’s okay sweetheart. She can replace you. Sucks though. I always enjoyed staring at that ass. Made the meetings less insufferable.” Vox’s grip tightens around your neck and his other hand slides up your thigh, starting to grope every inch of you. Your vision begins to tunnel as your body goes limp, his grasp controlled and unforgiving.

Just before complete darkness takes over, a familiar voice booms in your ears, “ENOUGH!” The hand around your neck releases and the world around you spins, fading out then back in. You pull yourself to your hands and knees and try to gasp. A stabbing pain rips across your sides with every attempt to collect the air around you. Any adrenaline your body had was long gone now. Oh yeah, cracked ribs. Ouch.

Looking up you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Any other day you would have inhaled the soft musk filling the air, but right now you can barely take a breath. “Alastor?” you whimper, throat hoarse from being nearly crushed. “Hello? Alastor?” Still silence. You lay back on the floor to try to steady your breathing and wait for the Radio Demon to make an appearance.

It only takes a few minutes to see his shadow appear, followed by Alastor himself. The initial relief you feel is quickly replaced by concern. His jacket was ripped up, and blood trailed across his mouth. “Shit are you okay? What happened?” you try to move to him but double over.

He huffs wiping the blood from his face. “No, you don’t get to ask the questions right now.” His words were near inaudible over the static. He was livid. “I want to know what the FUCK you were doing out in V territory ALONE!?” He rather unkindly picks you up, prompting throaty cries of pain and protest.

Alastor brings you to the bathroom and sits you up on the counter while he digs through his medical kit. You finally gather enough breath to speak, “Last I checked, I don’t need permission to walk around the city. Have you forgotten who I am? I am not some stupid -”

“Well apparently you are.” He bites at you without making eye contact – continuing to pull apart the kit.

Tears well up in your eyes. Too tired to fight them back you let their warmth coat your face. They steadily stream down and drop into your blood-soaked hands. You try to squeak out an explanation, “He…he just hurts so many people. He almost killed Angel. If you ask – “

“I didn’t.” he cuts in.

“I didn’t know he would get Vox in –“

“I don’t care.”

“FUCK Alastor what is your problem!?” you snap, tears burning as they run down your cheeks.

He slams his hands on either side of your legs, caging in your body and leaning right down to your face. If he wasn’t pissed right now, this would be so attractive.

“My problem? What is my problem?” Alastor’s antlers expand and a red ‘x’ glows on his forehead. His body grows and looms over you as his grip starts to crack the countertop, “Do you forget who they are? Of course Vox got involved! And if I hadn’t stepped in, he would have done who knows what to you! His hands already started to defile you - Is that what you wanted? To die at the hand of a perverted, unscrupulous Overlord?” His words were like knives, and you despised every slice he made.

His outburst ignites your own rage, making your demon form flare, “No, Damnit, you don’t get it! Down here you’ve only ever lived for yourself! You’ve never watched someone you care about almost die because of some piece of shit! You’ve never felt the need to tear that person limb from limb for what they did! I wanted to make him suffer and I DID!“ you scream at him until your voice gives out and your body gives up. A deafening silence falls over the bathroom. The only sounds reverberating off the walls are your stifled sobs. Some from anger, some from pain. Ṟ̸̂u̸̫͂l̴̟̈e̷̩͛ ̸͖̽#̷̹̀4̴̎͜ ̴̰̇Ṉ̷̀e̸̲͌v̴̻̈́e̵̥͘ṛ̸͛ ̵̗̑l̴͍̃ė̶̠t̶͈̾ ̴̣̒y̷̬͋ò̵̭u̸̩̽ŕ̶̼ ̴̪̾ẉ̵̑ȅ̴̩ą̴̕k̵̗̐n̶̻̅ȇ̷̳s̸̢͋s̸͖͂e̷̡͛s̶̘̍ ̴͍̏š̴̢h̶̼̐ǫ̴͊w̷͉͝

 Alastor shrinks back to normal. He cups your face gently to clean off the dirt and blood – tending to the few scrapes across your cheeks. You keep your eyes down to avoid his stare. The last thing you want to see is pity from the demon, at least not right now.

As he kneels to clean your hands, his buttery voice finally breaks the quiet, “You know, had you said all of that yesterday, you would have been absolutely right.” He looks up, noticing your head tilt in confusion. “Seeing his hands on you triggered something in me, and I wanted nothing more than to rip apart that piece of shit for….trying to take you away from me. So yes, I do understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not cross with you for going by yourself. You’re lucky I had my shadow follow you.” A sly smile flashes up at you. In that moment a gnawing thought crosses your mind. Does he actually care for me? Or is he only afraid to lose the power I can give him?

Either way, he did save you, so you conjure enough strength in your voice to whisper, “Thank you Alastor,” and place a kiss on his forehead.

Once he finishes cleaning the cuts on your hands, he stands and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His red eyes dart back and forth between yours as if trying to read every thought you could have. A smile paints his face but you can see something more. Worry? Sadness? Regret? You want to question him but the intensity of his stare has you frozen.

“I want to make another deal.” he finally says in a whisper, holding his gaze. Your stomach drops. This is what you’ve been worried about. That he was going to try to break down your walls until you willingly promise him your soul, bounding everything you have to him. R̴̤͑u̵͓̒l̷͊ͅḛ̸̒ ̸̉͜#̴͉̓1̶͇̔ ̸̟͑Ṋ̸͋e̷̮̎v̷̼̾e̸̪͌r̴̥̈́ ̵̳̽t̴̩͐r̶̻͊u̷̘͝ș̴͒t̶͙̂ ̶̝͑â̵̩n̴̙̿o̸̡͗t̸͚̒h̴̯̓ë̸͓́r̶͎̂ ̸̙̎O̸̺͌v̷̧͠è̴̼r̸̹̓l̵͊ͅo̸̜͒r̵̠̂d̸͓̽ . 

“Wh-what?”

“I want to make another deal - you promise to let me accompany you every time you leave these hotel walls and, in exchange, I will teach you how to grow your strength and power so this never happens again.” Well that is not the deal I was expecting.

Relief replaces anxiety. You lean in and give a cheeky smile, “You do realize both of those things can happen without a deal - unless you’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me again.”

“Bold of you to assume I need an excuse, “ he purred, closing the last bit of space between your bodies, lips hovering over yours, ‘but do we have a deal?”

You can barely breathe out “Deal.” before his lips gently press into yours. A glow fills the room but you don’t even notice this time, too lost in his touch to care. 

He reluctantly pulls away, “You should probably stay here tonight. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone in this condition.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I got it –“ hopping off the counter, you almost crumple to your knees. Alastor catches you with a smug chuckle. “I had a feeling you would fight me on that. It is completely up to you of course. However I will warn you I am willing to go to extreme lengths to convince you of the right choice.”

Once again, you’re lifted up and out of the bathroom. “Don’t threaten me with a good time -” You try to tease but lose your breath. A low laugh leaves his chest, “I believe we’ve had enough fun today my dear.” Every muscle in your body welcomes the soft bed as he lays you down on his silk sheets. 

Your eyes flutter heavily as you hear him move about the room, leaving briefly. Am I really going to stay here with him? Guess not too much of a choice now. I know he won’t hurt me, not tonight anyway. The door opens and you feel him climb into the bed with you. 

Turning to face him, you watch him lean back against the headboard, book in hand. “I thought you didn’t sleep.” you joke drowsily. 

“I don't need much but that just means I can keep you company while you rest.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to…but maybe you could tell me some stories about when you were alive? You can be my personal radio show for the night.”

A pleased hum leaves his chest, “As you wish, ma chère.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. Time might as well have stopped as he begins telling you about his life, his mom, his home, the old radio show. You practically melt into his chest while drinking in every drop of his sweet voice. It was nice to peel back a few layers of who the Radio Demon was.

You wake up in a panic the next morning. Sitting up, your tired brain takes a moment to catch up with your surroundings and you relax remembering the previous night’s events. The mirror across the room catches your eye, showing purple and blue bruises painted across your skin. “Uhhg I look rough.” you whisper to yourself. 

“Still beautiful as ever, my dear.” a voice cut in, making your heart jump into your throat. You didn’t even notice his shadow or him fading into the room while you tried to collect yourself. “Good morning Alastor, and thank you but these marks are not very flattering.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed and lightly traces his hand around your face and throat. His smile almost falters. “I loathe seeing the marks he’s left on you…but I take pride in knowing he won’t ever lay a hand on you again.” a snide grin crosses his face. That’s probably why he took so long to get back to the hotel. I don’t even want to know what he did to Vox in that alley.

“Now! You stay here, I will go grab us some coffee!” Alastor jumps up to rush out the door but you stop him. “No, wait – I want to come with you.” He nods and leans against the doorway, waiting for you to put yourself together. You only bother to run a comb through your hair. No use in trying to cover up anything.

He wraps his arm around your waist while walking down to the lobby. Plopping yourself on the couch, you look up to see Husk staring over a newspaper, eyebrow cocked. A gruff “Hmpf” comes from behind the paper as Alastor walks by into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t even start Husk.” 

He slams the paper down on the bar, “I ain’t startin nothin! But it sure looks like he tried to finish –“ “He didn’t touch me. I wouldn’t even be sitting here if it wasn’t for him – “

Angel bursts through the hotel doors roaring with excitement, abruptly ending your conversation with Husk. “Oh good you guys are here – you will not BELIEVE what happened last night and holy shit what happened to you!?“

He looks mortified at the marks across your face. “Tripped. Please continue.” you say dryly.

Alastor finally returns with coffee, taking his seat right next to you as Angel finishes talking about his shift and how bad of a condition Val was in.

“It’s crazy someone was powerful enough…or ballsy enough…to do something like that to him. He’s pissed and from what I heard, Vox wasn’t looking too hot either.” You shoot a look over to Alastor who huffs smugly, looking away as he takes a sip of his coffee. I fucking knew it.

You turn your attention back to Angel, “If someone knocked him around that much, he’s bound to want to take it out on someone. Are - are things going to get worse for you?” Anxiety grips your chest at the realization you may have only aggravated Angel’s situation rather than helped.

“Eh it’ll be weeks before he even gets back to working the studio, besides no one is going to take him seriously with those words on his face. Whoever got ahold of him CARVED into his cheeks. Fuckin deep too. Heard it was a carmine knife, so Satan knows it’s gonna scar.” The enthusiasm in his voice helps ease your worries.

Husk finally chimes into the conversation, “hmm and uh – what exactly was written on his face?” his eyes look straight through Angel and settle on you. There’s no way he thinks –

“I don’t know some Latin shit I can’t pronounce. I overheard some older demons say it ‘labeled him as dirty’ or something like that.” Angel shrugs it off and continues joking about how great the next few weeks were going to be for him.

You finish your coffee and stand to get more, wincing at how sore you still feel.

“You could have asked me, dear. I was about to get up for more as well.” Alastor motions for you to sit back down while taking your cup. When he walks away, Angel comes over and sits on the floor next to you.

“Soooo…you gonna to tell me who actually gave you those bruises? Did you get freaky with Smiles? I just knew he was into that kinda –“

“He didn’t do this Angel.” Your words are soft but stern. He looks up with worry in his eyes. “Don’t take pity on me like that. I am FINE…” you peek up to see Husk’s back turned. Leaning over Angel’s ear, you drop your voice to a whisper, “and uh, between you and me – the word is spurcissime. Roughly translates to ‘complete filth’.” R̴̗͠ǔ̷̮l̸͍͘ẽ̴̘ ̴̩͑#̴̙͆2̸̥̎ ̴̲͌N̸̰̒e̵͔͝v̴̯̆ë̸͙́r̴̬̀ ̸̩̏t̶̳̍ḙ̵̑l̴̥͝l̵̹̍ ̴͎͆ă̴̤ ̷͖̉s̴͕̕o̸̼͊ǔ̶̡l̶̝̿ ̷̺̓ẅ̵̟́ĥ̵̞a̶͖̿ṱ̵̏ ̸̢̕(̵͉̽ŏ̵̢r̵͚͛ ̷̘̈h̷̯̾ò̴̺w̵͉̑ ̸͔̀m̷̡̈́ủ̷̞c̶͂ͅh̷͇̋)̶̻̂ ̵͖̈p̵͍͒o̶̤̽ẉ̶́e̷̤̚ȑ̵̪ ̸̣̚ÿ̴̥ö̶́͜ù̸͎ ̸͇̑ĥ̸̤ä̷̙v̶͖͒e̶̥͛

You sit back on the couch haughtily, taking pleasure in the absolutely dumbfounded look on his face.  

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp 

[graciegoeskrazy]

somebody else

george daniel + xcx!stepdaughter!teen!reader

(ft charli, gabbriette, and matty!)

warnings: cursing, daddy issues, bio dad comes back, king george, charli is a queen

a/n: ty anon who requested this and dug an old idea out of the trash lmao. hope u enjoy! i’m really proud of this one actually tehehe.

“Y/n, what time do you get out of practice today?” George asked, packing your lunch.

You stared at your phone with a blank expression, reading the texts you had received through the night.

“Y/n?” George called again when there was no response. “Hellooooo? Earth to y/n??” George teased.

Your head snapped up and your eyes widened in realization. “Sorry, I, uh- I get out at 5:30,” You tried to play it off with a laugh, immediately looking back down the texts.

“You okay?” George sensed something was off.

“Yeah, fine. Got to go,” You stood from the bar stool and grabbed your things, including the luch george had packed that was lying on the counter. You brushed it off quickly, trying to evade further questions.

“Wait a minute- what was that?” George persisted, concerned.

“Nothing, George! I’m fine, I got to go to school,” You placed a kiss on his cheek, standing on your tip toes, before you turned to your mom who was walking in from the bedroom she and George shared. “Bye, mom!” You said, rushing out the door.

“Bye, darling,” Charli said, walking out in her pjs and bedhead

With that you slammed the door and headed off the school. Charli laughed at the look stuck on her fiance’s face and kissed hm and she wrapped her arms around her torso. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing, I guess. She’s just acting weird. Staring at her phone,” He said, trying to downplay her worries.

She smiled. “That’s what teenagers do, George…” she added, trying to reassure him.

He shrugged as he cleaned up the mess from packing her lunch. “Have you noticed she’s acting differently?” George pressed on, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I don’t know-“ George hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Yes, you do,” George looked up with a look. Charli tilted her head and smiled.

He continued. “Quieter. Not the chipper, happy girl we know and love?”

Charli got serious. “I mean, yeah, but I had just chalked it up to hormones,” She admitted, realizing she couldn’t ignore the signs any longer.

“Hm,” George said, looking down.

His other hand sensed the concern on his face. “She’ll come around. Whatever is happening, our girl is stronger than it. She’ll be fine,”

“Yeah,” George agreed, though his worry still lingered.

“Our girl,” He whispered and smiled.

…

You did your best to avoid the texts on your phone. He was up to his nose in nonsense again and it was starting to get to you, even more than usual. For the first week or so, he was respectful. You set boundaries, never promised to see him in person, and he agreed. Over time he got more abrupt. He would message you constantly, saying ‘hey’ or ‘sorry’ or ‘please forgive me’ or other stupid shit. Eventually, when you didn't reply he would curse you out. He would make threats and call you names, proof of the real him. You would cry and fight the urge to scream in the school bathroom. A stark contrast to the life you lived at home and school. You were a model student with a combination of popularity and straight A’s. A nice nepo baby who was a good friend to everyone and a joy to be around. Nobody knew of the dark past that you lived through.

Your ‘dad’, if you can even call him that, caused trouble from the beginning. Your mom and him were in love for a long time, but when you came along and Charli was ready to live a family life along with her career, despise your expectancy, your dad backed out and left. Charli begged and pleaded for years, but to no avail. Your early childhood memories include vivid glimpses of him from the times he did try and come around, but he always chose different things over you. The last time he tried was nearly 5 years ago. You were 10. You were excited when your mom said he wanted to see you again, You were excited to be like the other kids at school and have 2 parents, but that was a short-lived dream. He left after a while, completely ghosting you and your mom.

A message popped up on your Instagram account a couple of weeks ago. Usually, the messages you get are from XCX or 75 fans who want to connect to you to get closer to George or your Mum, so you ignore them at first glance. That was until you saw the name. His name. He said he wanted to talk and and gave you his number, You reached out. He said all he wanted to do was relay a message - he was doing good, he hoped you were doing good, he was in a better, more stable place, he would like to talk or even meet but there was no pressure.

And like a fool, you fell for it.

…

Gabbriette promised to pick you up from school and take you out to ‘start of spring break right’. She had known you for years, being friends with your mom, and had become somewhat of an aunt, so when she and Matty fell in love and started dating, it was nothing short of perfect. She took you to your favorite spot the two of you shared, then to a shop or two, eventually meeting up with Matty who said he wanted to meet the two of you for dinner.

You took a picture of the delectable pate in front of you with the couple just behind, capturing the warmth of the moment with a pink heart emoji and posted it without a second thought.

After a delightful dinner, filled with laughter and shared stories, you all headed back to your parents’ place. Charli suggested a game night of ‘Cards Against Humanity’, and that’s how the five of you ended up gathered around the coffee table in the living room, ready for a night of fun and friendly competition. After a good hour of laughter and drinking, a knock sounded at the door.

“Who’s that?” Charli asked, looking at George.

“I wasn't expecting anyone?” he said. George looked at you expectantly but you just shrugged, oblivious as to who was on the other side of the door.

The laughter continued as Matyt placed another card down and your mom went to answer the door.

“Y/n, can you go to your room for a second?” She stayed staring through the peep hole in the door.

“Why?” You stood up and gave her a confused look, snacking on the sucker Gabbriette got you earlier that day.

She turned to you, a serious look on your face as she sent a pleading look to her friend. “Just do it for me, please? Gab? Can you go with her?”

She put a reassuring hand on your back as she guided you upstairs. The last thing you saw was George running to Charli’s side at the door.

…

Once upstairs and inside, Gabby closed the door behind her and told you to sit on the bed. “What was that about? Who’s there?” You asked.

You could tell that she knew something was up, but was trying to downplay it for your sake. “I don’t know! Don’t worry about it. She's probably being dramatic about something.”

You rolled your eyes. “Gabby, my mother loves attention but she is not dramatic.”

A knock sounded at your door. “Hiiii.” Matty poked his head through the door before fully making his way though.

“What's happening?” You asked, fear evident in your tone.

He shrugged and smiled, clearly hiding something. “Nothing. It was just a sketchy guy at the door.” He smiled.

You crossed your arms. “You liar.” You tried to get passed him and make your way to the door.

He put his arms on your shoulders to stop you from passing. ‘Hey! I’m not lying.” He technically wasn’t. You didn't believe it though.

“Yeah, sure, leave the acting to your parents.” You laughed and pushed past him and through the door.

As much as he wanted to laugh, his anxiety grew as he watched you brush pass him with ease and walk downstairs. “Y/n wait.”

Charli was face to face with a man, someone you recognized. Anger was written all over her face. “For the 5th and final time, get out.” George was hovering behind her, strong and protective Even though he never said a word.

“I’ve come to talk, just to talk.” He said.

Before your mother could get another chance to speak the steps beneath you creaked, giving your position away. All 3 heads turned to you, silent. Eventually, a voice spoke up.

“Hi, my love.” He said, hesitantly.

“Hi, Justin.” you softly said.

The man’s man was Justin Lemoine. He was your biological father.

He had been in and out since the moment you were born. You thought he was gone forever when he left nearly 5 ago and never came back. The slowly but surely growing relationship the two of you were building vanished instantly when he told your mother he couldn't do it again. You were 10 years old then, but now you were almost 15.

Then you were innocent and naive, now you were a young woman who was more certain of who you were, what you wanted, and the life you wanted to live. And that life didn’t include Justin.

He was always ‘Justin’, never ‘Dad’ or ‘Papa’, or anything like that. That space was reserved for someone else. Someone like George.

He tried to take a step toward you but you shook your head, letting him know to take a step back. “I came to talk to you real quick-”

“I don't want to talk to you.” You flatly said.

“C’mon, don't be like that.”

“They told you not to come over here.” He knew the ‘they’ you were referring to was the court and the agreement

“I know, I-”

“Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been meaning to stop by since-”

“Since the last time you saw me?” You took a small step towards him, telling him you were serious.

He sighed and gave a solemn look. “Yeah.”

“So 5 years. Right?” It was said more mater-of-fact rather than a question.

‘Y/n.” He started his stint of trying to reason with you. You interrupted before he got the chance.

“No, I’m right, right? It's been 5 years since you’ve seen me? End of 2019, correct?”

He sighed again, starting to back down just the slightest bit. “Yeah.”

You let out a hum and you crossed your arms. George and Charli watched from behind, in awe of your spirit. “So what was it? Lots of wrong turns?”

His gaze shifted downwards. “Something like that.” It was almost as if he was ashamed. It was as if he was being genuine and serious this time. It felt like he really wanted to try again.

That thought only lasted a second before reality snuck back in. A beautiful simple guess of ‘what could be’ was loss in an instant. The reality was conversations like this between you and him have happened one too many times. The reality was taking the alternate suggested route would only lead to disaster and chaos, again. You had your answer, your envisioned future, at that future did not include him.

You stood stoic and strong. “You can leave now.”

He tried to move forward to you. “Listen, y/n, I just-”

“You said you wanted to talk…we talked. So, you can leave now.”

He sighed again. “I want you to give me another chance, baby girl-”

“Don’t call me that.” You were getting heated and angry which you knew would not end well, especially for him. You had your mother's ferocity and fiery nature, and it wasn't something to be messed with.

“C’mon don’t be like that I can-”

“I gave you another chance. Multiple. 5 years ago.”

You swallowed and stayed silent, unsure of what to do next. You had already made your next move.

“Leave.”

He sighed and tried to reach out to you. “Y/n, I’m-”

“Leave right now or I swear to god the next time you come and bother me or my family again it won't be pretty.” You stared at him with fire in your eyes.

He let out a soft chuckle. “‘Family’, huh?”

You nodded.

“You think you can just choose? Do you think you can pick a couple of people, and call them your aunts and uncles? Let them take you out to Central Park for a day?” You tilted your head before you relized he was alluding to the post you had made with Gabby earlier that day, “Or your Dad? You think that man is your Father?” He gestured to George for the first time. You could hear shifting in the background and George sighing, You assumed he was about to make a move, but Charli stretched an arm to block him and you spoke before he got a chance. “He's been more of a Dad to me in the past 3 years than you have in my entire lifetime.”

And every ounce of fire that George had inside him, wanting to go and punch that prick of a man in the face, was extinguished by your words. George sighed and Charli grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

Justin, meanwhile, was speechless. You had really replaced him. “Leave, Justin.” You said, without any room for question. He left, slamming the door behind him.

It was quiet for a solid 5 seconds before anyone spoke. You broke the silence. “I'm going to bed.”

Charli reached out to you. “Baby-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You looked back and smiled.

You went upstairs and closed the door with a slam, continuing to sob into your pillows for the next hour.

…

Sleep eventually consumed you. Matty and Gabbriette left shortly after the fight and George and your Mum agreed to figure out the next steps tomorrow, knowing you were safe with them and believing Justin wouldn't make any more moves. When you woke up the clock on your phone read 2:15. You knew sleep wasn;t an option at this point so you got up and headed to the kitchen. You sat on the stool, to tired to move, to weary to make tea, so you just sat there. That was until you heard the footsteps coming from the hallway. It was George, half asleep. Your eyebrow twitched as he yawned and headed to you. He didnt say a word, just placed a kiss on your head before heading to the other side of the counter to make your favorite tea. A hit on deja vu creeping up as the two of you resembled the same positions as this morning.

You broke the silence after a minute. “What are you doing up?”

He shrugged as he continued his work.“Couldn’t sleep.” He slid the mug across the counter, along with a small container of honey.

“Thanks.” You softly said.

He watched as you finished making your drink. Your eyes were puffy, a sign you’ve been crying, along with the dark undereye circles that have been growing darker and darker over the past few weeks. All the signs he's seen and evidence he's gathered were now starting to make sense. “You okay?” He asked.

“Fine.” You said not looking up from your drink.

“You sure?” he asked, pushing you ever-so-slightly.

You sighed and shrugged, “I’ve been better I guess.” tears started to fall for what felt like the millionth time.

George rushed around the other side, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms. “Hey- It's okay, it’s okay.”

You stayed quiet for a minute before talking though your hiccuped sobs.“I should’ve known he would come, I’m sorry.”

He tucked your head under his chin as you sobbed into him. “You don’t need to apologize, love. How would you’ve known?”

“Because he said he would!” Yous aid breaking away.

“What?” George asked, confused.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, opening the message up and laying it on the counter for george to lok at as you buried your head in your hands.

He hesitantly took the phone and started scrolling. It wasn’t long before angered built inside of him. “How long has this been happening for?”

You spoke through the sobs. “…I don’t kno-“

“Y/n.” He got serious and protective.

You sighed. “About a month…or two.”

Tension hung heavy in the air as you finally confessed

“Why didn’t you tell us?” George’s voice trembled with concern.

“Because everything was so perfect! Our family was fine, and I didn’t want this coming in and messing it up!” your words spilled out, laden with frustration. “That’s what he does. That’s what he’s always done,”

George hugged you again and you sighed into him. “I will get this sorted out. You won’t have to talk to this man again…if you don’t want to, of course-”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” your response was firm.

“Okay,” George breathed a sigh of relief. He could tell something else was bothering you, another thing eating away at your mind. “What are you thinking right now? What’s going through your mind?” He inquired gently.

After a moment of pondering, you responded. “I just can’t believe I’m half him. I just can’t believe that this is my life and I have to deal with him,” Your voice cracked with emotion.

“You are not him, you are you. And you are 20 times stronger than that shrimp of a man,” His response got the ends of your lips to twitch up in a smile that lasted for a millisecond, but George considered that a win. “Okay? You don’t have to worry about him anymore. I promise,” You nodded. “Maybe make your Instagram private though?”

[silverinkbottle]

Chapter 2:Titles and Tribulations

Summary: Sometimes moments are only fleeting. But the memories of them last forever.

A/N: Thanks for all the love on the last chapter! This one is a bit longer so please enjoy!

Chapter 1 Linked Below

Chapter 1: Oh, You

-> Chapter 3: Shopping Around

Titles and Tribulations

Well, the hotel seemed to be structurally sound as you peered up at the gleaming windows. A far cry from the pile of rubble that once cluttered the ground. Sighing under your breath, you raised your fist to rap on the gleaming wooden surface of the double doors. Your stoic expression shifted into surprise as your knock met bare air instead of solid wood. Followed by a piercing squeal of excitement as you found yourself dragged into the inside by hand first, feebly looking behind at the paperboys who ‘shared’ a shrug before running after you.

“Welcome to the brand NEW, Hazbin Hotel. We are so HAPPY to have our first NEW guest after our sudden refurbishment. Now as you can see-” 

It was all too easy to tune out the little Princess’s words while making the appropriate nods and hums as you followed her flourished gestures. Charlie Morningstar wasn’t what you expected, but at the same time it was. A strange dichotomy of impossible bubbliness against the rumored fierceness that lurked underneath her smile. Not like you could have gotten an interview with the poor bastards that had gone against her a week ago. 

“Oh, here is the statue of the bestest boy ever Dazzle! He was-”

Extracting your hand from her grip was like trying to scrape off slimy seaweed in the shallows. Yet, somehow you managed as you forced a polite smile on your face that seemed to dim in the brilliance of Charlie’s smile. 

“Lovely scenery, Miss Morningstar, but I am not-”

Another squeak of joy interrupted your speech as Charlies was peering around your skirts. To the huddled forms of the paperboys, their ears flat against their heads as if they could sense something about the Hellborne Princess. 

“Aren’t they adorable, these your kids- Look at their little buttons and vests. Just so-. Are..you alright?”

Her first question sent you into a coughing fit as you hastily waved off her concerns. Eyes watering as you managed the word ‘No’. It was impossible to protest as you found yourself ushered towards the bar and its’ equally grouchy but polished looking bartender.

“What can I get you? Aside from Charlie off your back, can’t help you there..”

“Gin. Tonic. Don’t you touch that.” Your last words were sent as a low hiss catching sight of a floppy ear peering around the bar front. Its paws trembling in excitement as the glass gin decanter glimmered in the lighting. 

“A little booze never hurt no one. Trust me, toots.” The other bar patron waggled his fingers at you. Angel Dust, wasn’t it? He was all but baiting the souls as he dangled a shot glass above their smaller forms.  The spider demon let out a yelp as small black holes materialized on their masks, eagerly drinking down the meager offer of liquor.

“Watch your pockets.” You retorted as you took another deep drink of your glass. Fingers tapping on the marble countertop as a timer. A telltale yelp came from their victim followed by the pair scurrying off their prize secured in their paws.

“Little bastards pickpocketed me,both of em. I must be loos’en my touch to not feel that.” Angel whined as you laughed into your glass. It made a hollow sound all too soon as there was a clink of ice. He was quick to scurry after them feebly chasing after the thieves. It was like trying to grab a shadow as the paperboys materialized their own ‘holes’ to hop in and out of utilizing the inner spaces of Purgatory. 

“I warned you. Can’t even give them pocket lint, any items bind them further to this reality. Makes them little kelptos. Can’t tell you how many pens I have lost from that unfortunate hab-” 

“FUCK.” Angel let out a yelp as he pulled back one of his arms, now bearing a fresh bite mark as he daringly stuck in hand in one of the tiny portals. Curious. He was far too curious as you withdrew your little black book from your pocket to add to your notes. It seemed to be a running theme of eavesdroppers as you sighed before lowering the book to allow Charlie a better look at it. At least she was too polite to rip it from your grasp.

“Angel Dust. Porn Star. Mafia ties? Power-” Charlie flushed over the word before sheepishly passing the book back over. 

“So, a little black book of secrets is it? Been a while since I have seen one of those.” Husker rasped before holding out his paw to flick through the book. His eyes widened as he too quickly passed over the book. 

“Are you some kinda journalist?” Husk growled with an edge of suspicion as you gave a wry smile. Something like that he was close enough. While Charlie, an apparent optimist clapped her hands together before once again taking your hands in her clutches. 

“Maybe you can do a piece of the hotel. For its grand reopening. Oh, oh, we can start with the introduction of the new parlor room. We even installed new stained glass windows that really make the ambiance pop. Oh, please say yes, it would be a perfect-”  

“Perfect time for her to leave. You mean, right darling Charlie?” Alastor’s less than pleased tone boomed over the room as all eyes watched the Radio Demon descend the stairs. Microphone in hand. As if it hadn’t been broken into two pieces like a match last time you saw it. No, this was entirely Alastor’s bravado instead of the mess that you met before.

“Better make me another drink, it seems.” You muttered under your breath as the faintest hint of smirk slid over your lips as Alastor’s gaze flickered from Charlie’s tight grip on your right hand, while your left slid protectively over the little black book on the bar. 

“Hold that thought, Husker.” Alastor snapped as the bartender’s scowl deepened before slamming the decanter of gin back on the bar. 

“Husker do this, Husker don’t do that. I have about had it with-” Husker’s grumbles were ignored by Alastor as he seemed to have grown a faint sliver of patience. An impressive feat if it wasn’t causing your glass to remain empty. Even the ice cubes were melting as you rattled the cool glass.

“Why should she leave? She’s a new guest.” Charlie protested as you chuckled at the thought. You, a Sinner looking for a chance of redemption. Perhaps, you should have tried to write funnies after all. Or perhaps the Princess of Hell had a strange bizarre sense of humor.

“Apologies Princess, I am afraid you have gotten the wrong impression of me.” You explained gently pulling your hand from hers as you tried to find the right words about the entire affair. It wasn’t like you had planned to move into the hotel to stir up the pot. Far from it.

“FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT YOUR SECRETARY. YOU CAN’T EXPECT ME TO WRITE DOWN YOUR THOUGHTS FROM LAST WEEK AND REMIND YOU OF THEM. CHARLIE, I CAN’T- A shrill rant was punctured by the ruffle of wings as a gray streak quickly took refuge behind the princess. Wings? A quick flicker through your notes as you could feel Alastor’s gaze burning into your hands with each whisper of the paper.

“Please don’t worry, Vaggie. I have a solution to your concerns.” You muttered as you slipped the book back into your pocket. 

“Charlie, sweetheart, please tell your girlfriend, a genius like me needs-”

“Every thought dictated back to him like a parrot. Yes, I know that sir. I am afraid I hear your voice in my dreams. Or should I call them nightmares. Who knows what sort of information you stuffed into that poor girl’s head.” You chirped lightly as you swept your way past Alastor. As if he was a mere tree amongst the woods. Dropping into the smallest of curtsy as Luicfer clapped in his hands together in an all too familiar gesture. Like father like daughter, you soon found yourself caught in his grip, a familiar hand around your waist as he ushered you back to the group.

A shell-shocked, wide eyed group as all you could manage was an almost shy wave as Lucifer began to sing your praises without a hint of awareness. 

“Everyone, may I present the newest staff member of the hotel. Well, my personal staff member. My ever diligent, steadfast and almost too prompt Secretary. It’s been my request that she take up quarters here.”

“Well, it was said work is a new kind of Hell. At least it will be a stylish one.” You deadpanned weakly as a burst of laughter broke the tension in the air. Your tail flicked angrily as Alastor wiped a tear from his eye as he managed to speak through his laughter.

“You. A Secretary. For HIM. You must be-”

Anger seized your heart as your tail thrashed about, your ears flat as venom dripped in your next words. 

“Fuck you. I wasn’t aware I needed my ex-husband’s permission to do my job. One that I am quite exceptional at.”

“HUSBAND?” A chorus of voices rang through the silent foyer as Husker let out a low whistle before thoughtfully pouring the gin into your abandoned glass. The alcohol’s blissful coolness did little to dampen your temper as another word left Alastor’s curled lips.

“Till death do us part. I would consider this a technicality.”

“Oh don’t start that-” Husker protested as you grabbed the almost empty decanter, hurling it at the infuriating radio demon. His words fatigued like this wasn’t the first spat between lovers he had witnessed behind the bar. The glass smashed against the far wall as Alastor easily stepped out of the weapon’s range. His smug expression didn’t last long as he stumbled out of the way a sudden switch blade aimed for his gut. A single furry arm reaching out furiously swinging as another portal aimed for his knees. Draining your glass with a single long drink, you were quick to join the fray. The weapon of choice is a feathered quill, its sharp dripping crimson as Alastor fell into step with your challenge. A macabre dance of sorts as Alastor dipped into a mocking bow, ears tucking back to narrowly miss shining glint of metal.

“Fuck you. You broke those vows a LONG time AGO.”You snarled as you could feel anger begin to court something you hadn’t felt in years. Sentiment.  The cool burn of the fucking ring still on your finger, like a vice trapping the flesh of a forgotten life, but would ruin you to amputate. A string tying to a much happier time. At least one with glimpses of the emotion.

Alastor’s hand caught your wrist with ease as you snarled when he removed the silken glove from your left hand, revealing the accursed piece of brass. A cheap little thing, but it once meant the world to some stupid woman. Alastor’s eyes widened for the briefest second as if he hadn’t thought that his mocking words from earlier held any weight. Or was it because he hadn’t expected your free hand to strike him across the face.

“I didn’t ASK your PERMISSION. I DON’T FUCKING NEED IT. I NEVER DID.” Your voice was a low hiss now as your hand drifted to your throat. Black ink was slowly spreading across the crisp collar in a slow haze as splotches seeped through here and there on your dress. Ink oozed across the floor like a slow haze as Angel hastily scurried up onto the couch away from the ooze. The slippery forms of hands reached out from the ooze like a drowning man trying to breach the surface, their stained hands gripping your ankles. Alastor kicked at far more hostile hands, their passive grasp turning into sharp claws eager to sink into flesh.

“So. You made some new associates, kit. As did I”

“ALASTOR, ENOUGH.” Charlie’s voice broke through the haze of violence as you bit back your retort under Lucifer’s cool glare. The ink dissipated, but the trembling of your form didn’t. Control was something you always lacked when your temper sparked. It was your fatal flaw, it made you reckless. It scorched you from the inside out as your hands curled around yourself protectively, fighting the urge to gag as if each breath provoked another splattering of ink from the depths of your throat. 

“Breathe.” Lucifer muttered as he offered you a spare handkerchief. It was almost a shame to see the dark liquid greedily seep into the silk cloth like a drunk to drink. Angel was quick to pull up alongside you with a waste basket as you retched further ink into the bin.

“Had enough experience with the gutter to know the “oh fuck I am gonna hurl face”. Angel teased as you glared up at him. Managing only the faintest laugh as Angel winked cheekily at you.

“Well, that wasn’t the worst introduction to the hotel.” Charlie chimed weakly trying to lighten the mood as she stood in front of Alastor. Protecting you from him? Or was it the other way around. Or perhaps it was to spare the risk of another massive clean-up as an excited giggle lit up the room. A maid skittered about the room mop in hand as she invasively wiped a wet cloth over your face before darting off to the next puddle.

“Thank you, Niffty. We would be lost without you.” Lucifer mused as the maid gave a quick salute to the compliment. 

“I mean I did do the stabbing of the nasty big bug” Niffty said in a sing-song voice as you connected the words. This, this was the Sinner that managed to kill the first Man?

“Oh, now I can see why you were so out of sorts.” You sneered as there was that telltale twitch of Alastor’s left eye.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh never again darling.” 

“Well, now that this little reunion is settled. I do hope your files are in order. We have A LOT to cover.” Lucifer announced with a dramatic sigh. It was all false theatrics, you knew likely better than anyone of the renewed passion that had been lit in the King of Hell. The management of the realm itself, to remind the Sinners that he was in charge for a reason. With or without the rumors surrounding his prestige.

“Of course. Sir.” You answered flatly as you snapped your fingers once more. It was like watching a small parade of rabbits as the tiny creatures streamed into the hotel door. Needing little direction as Lucifer’s words began flowing like a river. Your pen dancing over the pages in furious shorthand. Allowing yourself to fall into the intoxicating haze of work into the long hours of the night.

“Now I think it’s time to call it a night. It was quite an eventful day for you.”

The words skittered over the page without a thought as your tired eyes read over them. It wasn’t diction, no, it was the start of a conversation. Lucifer observing you through steepled fingers as you put the finishing punctuation with a loud clack of the keys. Taking extra time to carefully remove the delicate paper from the roller, you wistfully blew over the damp ink. Ignoring the click of Lucifer’s tongue as he knew your procrastination tactics. He couldn’t exactly scold you for being considerate now could he.

“It won’t be a problem. It’s in the-” You began as Lucifer waved you over to the seat in front of his desk.  Now you were feeling like some school girl about to be lectured by the teacher as you slid into the seat with a guarded expression.

“I wouldn’t mind it being a problem. Smug prick could use another reminder of his standing. As powerful as he is, he is still a Sinner. Once human with an apparent speck of a heart that can be rattled it would seem. Especially if you know how to stab at the soft parts.” Lucifer mused with a raised brow.

“Are you asking me to kill Alastor, sir. I wouldn’t be against throttling him in his sleep tonight.” You deadpanned as your fingers twitched at the thought. 

“No. No. A bit of emotional torment is just dessert for me. Besides, I think Charlie would be a bit put out if it came to that. She was already so disappointed with the misunderstanding about a new Guest. Much less I had to talk her down from giving you a rousing speech after your little spat with him.”

You cringed at the imaginary conversation. You could all but see the wide-eyed princess flailing over the dramatics of love and how it’s worth fighting for. Possibly with an extra flair of confetti and trying to ply into a bit of romantic history. An impossible conversational trap that would make flaying feel preferable.

“I appreciate that, sir.” You muttered gratefully as Lucifer chuckled at your pained expression. However, you couldn’t help but feel like this was another trap when the devil’s expression turned from thoughtful to serious.

“I need you here. Charlie needs him here for some inane reason. Don’t push him too far, but don’t let him take advantage of you either. That’s a direct order. Now, off you go, we have plenty of nights to burn the midnight oil on.” Lucifer tutted before turning his chair, his own version of dismissal as you quietly left the study.

Your steps were aimless but seemed impossibly loud in the massive corridors of the hotel. Pale blue lighting drifting through the glass windows. As if it was a true moon outside instead of an endless haze of neon in the Pentagram below.  What would the fireflies look like here? Like some bastardized version of the one’s from Earth, perhaps emitting fire balls instead of a soft glow.  Fireflies dancing over the low tides of some forgotten lake as the early morning fog rolled in soon to be burned away by the rising sun.

“Oh, I know that look. Means it's time for a drink.” A hoarse voice broke you from your thoughts as you sheepishly ducked your head at the knowing words. It was almost embarrassing for Sinners to be caught lost in their memories from before, much to remember them in such vivid details. For many, regardless of age, their memories would come for them in their dreams. Sinners were meant to be punished, dreams ripping apart by the seams into their worst nightmares.  Or callous reminders of their sins amplified by tenfold to send them bolting upright in their beds.

“Afraid that won’t help me much tonight. Today was a bit..excessive” You admitted softly as Husk snorted at your shoddy attempt of downplaying the chaos of the day. The cat demon’s wings ruffled as the pregnant pause filled the space. You could only imagine the questions that were burning to be asked. Ones that you would loath to answer without a bit of sleep.

“So, how did-”

“How many broads do you take on midnight strolls, Whiskers. Hurting my feelings here. I am only a bit late..” 

Your luck may have been changing as Angel’s arrival easily caught Husk’s attention. Or more so, Angel demanded it as he stood behind the shorter demon with a knowing look. A moonlight stroll? You quickly covered your faint laugh with your hand as Husk’s gaze narrowed displeased. 

“A mere accident. Enjoy your night.” You mused as the pair exchanged a quick glance. It seemed they were just as eager to escape the conversation as you were.  The faintest notes of jazz punctured the silence as Husk rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Course, he is still in a prickly mood..” Husk growled 

Alastor and jazz was like watching the aftermath of a storm. Sometimes it was gentle lull ushering away dark clouds and foul weather. Other times it was the preamble to things to come as the restless notes went on into the early hours of the morning. 

“Ah, he’ll get over it if someone puts him-” Angel teased with a wink as you could feel your face begin to burn like a coal over the open fire.

“Have a good night.” Your words cut over the suggestive tone, perhaps too abruptly as the pair's laughter echoed after your footsteps. As if running away from the mere implication wouldn’t let your mind dance over the words. Your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you could almost taste the burn of rye. The ghostly touch on the back of your neck as you ran your hand over your face. As if that would wipe away the memories starting to prickle in the back of your mind. 

“Fuck.” You hissed as you realized your distracted steps had led you even closer to the source of the sound. Like the luring lull of a siren as there was a quiet rumble of a trumpet that sent goosebumps over your skin. All that was missing was the sweet scent of tobacco and low rumble of conversation. You startled backward onto the floor as the door slammed open at the crescendo of the song.

“Well, this is a surprise, do come in.” Alastor muttered as you silently cursed any entity for putting you in this position. Your dress slid up to above your knees, revealing the torn and ripped stockings beneath it as you hastily smoothed it back down. Alastor’s head tilting as he follows your hands up to your murderous expression before smiling that smug infuriating smile. 

“A leopard can’t change its spots. An intriguing idea isn’t it?” Alastor mused as he lazily waved to the free chair next to the fireplace. The nostalgic force barreled through your skull as your nails sank into the soft fabric of the arm rest. Everything about the room did. The pale tone of greens of the wallpaper, its edges fraying with its deceiving quality. The gentle crackle of the fire tinted by the low notes of jazz. Even the curious restless tap of Alastor’s fingers as he waited to hear your retort. 

“It can if the spots are painted on by another..” You huffed as you forced yourself to not fidget under his keen gaze. Like he was wanting to peel you open like a bit of wrapping paper over a shoddy gift. 

“But what sort of paints would the King of Hell use?” 

“Ones that I bought. I refuse to compromise on that.” 

“Well, even paint begins to fade. Funny how that happens.”

“Perhaps I should use ink instead. That continues to stain.”

The words were barbed and pointed as neither side was willing to back down. Did he really think you all but threw yourself at Lucifer’s feet without a second thought? Clinging to the nearest chance to pull yourself out from torment and torture. For the minute of peace in exchange for blistered fingers and reddened palms. 

“I am surprised you can’t see the stain on your hands. Seems like it was all over earlier.” Alastor quipped as you looked down at your hands. Still covered by the linen gloves as if that could conceal the blood on them. The dark sticky residue that once shown crimson, now tainted every single stroke of your pen.

“There are far worse reminders of our mistakes.” You nudged one side of your face, forcing it into a half smile as Alastor blinked once, but said nothing. You weren’t that blind to the fact that he was holding his cards close to the chest. Not willing to let the smallest risk of letting himself slip like he did before in the ruins of the radio station.

“Now let’s not dwell on the past.” Alastor proposed as you snorted at the clear diversion. There was a quick rattle of tea cups and the gentle floral notes of chamomile tea waiting to be poured within a blink of the eye. The hot liquid tasted slightly metallic on your tongue as you queried a brow but said nothing.  The faint chime of the cup hitting the saucer was all too loud in the room.

“You seem..better.” Hesitation in your voice as if cautiously approaching an injured animal. A single slow blink of Alastor’s eyes was a silent warning. Yet you couldn’t help but brooch the topic. 

“I am right as rain, my dear. Why wouldn’t I be?” Alastor hummed as you clicked your tongue in disapproval. Lying, he was lying to you. As if you weren’t the one that stumbled upon his little fit days prior. The obvious injuries inflicted on him by otherworldly forces, the faint twitch in his left arm when your gaze settled on it.

Now it was like falling back into familiar motions as your feet moved on their own accord to kneel next down to his chair. Your fingers diligently undoing the cuffed sleeve with a single snap of a button. Sharp nails curled under your chin forcing your focus from the fabric to Alastor. Less than impressed as you could feel your heartbeat thud a little bit faster from the malevolence of his ridgid form.

“Don’t act like a child.” You snipped as Alastor’s glare could have burnt into your soul. Well, if it still existed as you defiantly rolled up the fabric with a small hiss under your breath. Tendon and viscera was feebly trying to keep itself together by Alastor’s will. If infection ever existed in Hell, it would have to look like this at least it didn’t smell like rot.

“Pleased with yourself?” Alastor snapped coldly before pulling his arm away with a defiant snap of the button cuff. It was a mere glance but he was acting like you had proposed the idea of amputating the limb entirely. Now it was becoming nostalgic as a slow smirk spread across your lips as you leaned down closer to him. Your hands splayed comfortably over the top of the chair. There was a twitch in Alastor’s smile as you could all but see the same memories begin to play out.

“Still stubborn?”

“Always.” Alastor teased as his fingers sprawled over the length of your throat. Feeling your pulse underneath it. He was cheating in this little game of wills as a low hiss curled in your throat as his smile widened daring you to make the next move.

Any and all tension fled the room like a dog with its tail between its legs as the room’s door slammed open. A wide eyed and jittery Lucifer all but barged in without a single hint of volume regulation. A weary looking paperboy skittered after him with a blocky paper in its hand bearing the single word.

‘Sorry.’

“Cancel all my appointments tomorrow and fetch the coffee. I need to-”

Lucifer’s eyes went as a smirk slid over his snake-like features. His expression the picture of innocence as if he didn’t barge into the intimate moment. Hands tucked into his suit pockets as he slammed the final nail in the coffin for any chance of redemption. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Smug, amused notes that made you want to crawl into a hole and be buried alive.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Your answer came first in a rushed hiss as you quickly stood up to grab the troublesome rabbit by its ears as it frantically scribbled on its scrap of paper to explain the situation. That it had attempted to lead away your boss, but he just got this odd look when he heard the jazz. Please watch the ears. The excuses made your grip all the tighter as the little creature squealed in protest as it was thrown out into the hallway. 

While Alastor’s ‘No’ was far less pleased as the Devil was taking insurmountable delight in the situation. He smoothed out the rumpled edge of the sleeve with little ceremony as Lucifer seemed almost impatient for his next words. It was difficult to cover your laughter as the words never came, only the clatter of china and a loud sip of tea. 

“Now, before I fetch that coffee. What is the issue?” You huffed as you snapped your fingers together allowing your quill the float aimlessly around you. Lucifer spun on his heel before grabbing you by the wrist with a bright smile

“I want to redecorate my office. It’s looking a bit..drab. That means measuring, shopping and all the other joys of furnishing. Now let’s hop to it. We only have a few hours till morning, moonlight is wasting away as we speak. Since I wasn’t interrupting anything..” Lucifer declared as he wrapped his arm around your waist, all but ushering you from the room without a single second to spare.

You made sure to burn the coffee and watched with immense pleasure in seeing him choke it down.

[zombiebabysitter]

LOCATION: Wicked's Rest Trail TIMING: Current PARTIES: Charlie & Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) SUMMARY: While on a hike through the woods to catch up, Charlie and Wyatt run into a Sianach. They have to run for their lives. CONTENT WARNINGS: Talk of grief

“This is fucking terrifying!” Charlie exclaimed from the inside of the lamia’s mouth, though at the same time? This was fucking metal as fuck. “Run, Barlow! Run!”

Time had passed between when Charlie had been stabbed and now. He’d healed enough to be allowed to adventure on his own, but not enough to go back to the crazy activities he had been doing before all of this happened. It was enough to drive him crazy, to make him feel itchy all over because he couldn’t occupy his mind with something other than the grief and loss of his friends. He spent so much time out and about because he didn’t want to have Finn stuck dealing with the emotions that were radiating off of Charlie. He hated it. And so, that’s how he found himself messaging Wyatt to go on a hike with him. If he couldn’t go alone, at least he’d have his muscle wall of a gator friend to have his back in case something happened… again. 

They’d met up at one of the many trailheads to do nothing more than shoot the shit and hike. “See? I didn’t go alone this time.” Charlie had said as soon as they’d gotten out of their respective cars. “I can be responsible. But I’m going crazy being stuck indoors and if I have to stay and rest one more fucking day, I’ll lose my fucking shit, I swear to god.” Charlie rolled his eyes at himself before walking off toward the start of the trail. “It’s good to see you again,” he quickly added, turning around and smiling at his friend. Despite everything, Wyatt was still a good friend to Charlie. Despite everything, they still were. 

Walking was easy, talking about this, that, and the other or falling into a comfortable silence. There were occasional rustles in the trees and underbrush, but nothing to make Charlie stand at attention because, of course, there was wildlife out here. It was nature, after all. Still, he found himself looking over at every little noise, afraid that it would be that guy who came after him, or something worse. 

—

“So proud of you,” Wyatt responded with a hint of sass, wanting desperately to get back to where they’d been before that fucking hospital room. It still hurt, sure, but he was willing to look past that for a sense of normalcy. Following closely behind as they approached the trail, Wyatt lifted his head to meet Charlie’s gaze when he realized he was being spoken to. “Yeah. You too.” The response was delivered with a smile that, while lacking its usual carefree nature, was genuine. Wyatt had kind of been in hiding since the whole ordeal with Samir, finding that his nightmares were taking on new forms. As much as he tried to pretend he was fine, the guilt weighed heavy on his mind, always returning full force the moment he was left alone with his thoughts. It’s why he tried so hard not to be left alone lately, but Charlie had been there. He’d seen it happen. He’d found Wyatt after and tried to console him. Seeing Charlie on the path in front of him now felt no different from seeing him crouched on the other side of those bars. 

Wyatt’s hands were trembling and he shook them out as he cleared his throat and tried to pay attention to the small talk. The silences in between were harder, but not foreign to him. He was trying to just appreciate where they were. Nature, and shit. And also the fact that Charlie hadn’t abandoned him completely, even if that would’ve been the wiser thing to do. 

“So… how’s the new house?”

—

Watching as Wyatt seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, Charlie paused and fought the urge to put out a hand and rest it on his friend’s shoulder. Instead, he nudged his friend gently in the side with a searching gaze in his eyes. He’d noticed his shaking hands, noticed the way that Wyatt wasn’t entirely all-too present with him. But could he blame him? Not at all. “I get if you need a distraction,” Charlie said gently, raising his brows at the other, “but I’m also here if you want to talk, okay? Always.” And after that, Charlie kept walking, back to his chipper self, leading the way on the trail. 

“The house is… sans furniture.” The rockstar finally admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “Turns out, it’s hard to get furniture and find a style that makes sense. Starting from scratch sucks.” Charlie rolled his eyes as he thought about all the furniture he and Finn were going to have to build together. He wondered if they’d have a good time or end up yelling at the furniture. He wasn’t above yelling at inanimate objects and never had been. “But there’s a bed and a dining table and chairs, so…” he trailed off, then shrugged again. “Better than nothing?” 

Charlie found himself at a fork in the trail, then decided to go right, scuffing his boots against the dirt path before he kept walking, turning around to look at Wyatt for a moment, a bright smile on his face. “Oh yeah! You’ll have to come over and check out the recording studio that was put in the basement! I’ve got a soundproof booth, all my guitars, my keyboards, and a bunch of sound editing equipment. I’ve got a whole fucking setup, it’s amazing.” There was an excitement that entered Charlie’s voice as he began to talk about his music, it was clear that it was more to him than just fame. That being able to play and write music was its own reward.

—

The offer was kind, and of course Charlie felt the need to extend it. But Wyatt was reluctant to accept, knowing that it all came with more baggage than he felt like unpacking. Not on Charlie’s part, not really… most of that luggage belonged to the misguided shifter. So he just nodded in thanks, acknowledging it without committing to anything as he followed behind Charlie on the trail, stepping over a large root that'd grown across the path. 

It was very like Charlie to rush into moving before he'd even managed to furnish the place, and it drew an amused chuckle from Wyatt. “Better than nothing,” he agreed, “but I hope you've at least got a fridge. Actually, scratch that, I bet you're just ordering takeout for every meal, huh?” He grinned impishly, having taken great pleasure in hounding his roommate for always eating out and constantly insisting on cooking them meals to keep in the fridge. 

Brows rose when Charlie started getting excited about his studio, followed quickly by a grin. “That's awesome, man. You're really set on stickin’ ‘round here, huh?” He was… glad, mostly. He didn't love how dangerous it'd been for his friend so far, but he was selfishly happy that Charlie hadn't decided to fuck off to someplace he couldn't follow. “Yeah, I'll for sure come check it out.” He'd never been in a proper recording studio, having fully stuck to the live performance side of things his whole life. It would… probably be intimidating, if he was honest with himself. Ah well. 

—

Raising his hands in surrender to Wyatt’s correct theory of ordering takeout, he shrugged his shoulders with a sheepish smile across his lips. “Listen, man. I can’t cook for shit, you know that.” He was quick to say as they walked. “Like, please teach me the basics, I’m begging. Finn and I can’t eat takeout for the rest of our lives.” Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose with a laugh that was clearly at his own expense. “I’ll pay you, I’ll do whatever the fuck you want, just take me on as your student, I’m begging.” He clasped his hands together and shook it back and forth in a pleading motion at Wyatt. 

“Yeah, I really am.” Charlie then spoke in response to him putting down roots. “Despite it’s weirdness, I like it here. And with my affliction, it’s probably good to stick to an area where I can fit in rather than stick out, you know?” His hand went to his arm, where the bite was, covered with bandaging. His gaze went far away as if stuck somewhere else. Every time he was reminded of the reality of things, he remembered everything he was running from. Running from the death of his friends, the reality that they were well and truly gone. 

“Damn right, you will! If you want to record anything, just let me know, I know people.” He shot the other a playful wink, knowing that he was people. “I feel like things are looking up after everything that happened.” He spoke, referring to the attack of his friends. “Sure, some setbacks with a literal demon stabbing me, but… I’m nothing if not resilient.” Charlie shrugged his shoulders, ignoring the nagging feeling that he was pushing something away, something that threatened to bubble to the surface every night when he was by himself. 

As they walked, the forest took on an eerie silence that not even Charlie could yap through to ignore. “Weird,” he murmured to Wyatt as his gaze looked through the treeline, seeing a few small animals running through the brush, but thought nothing of it. “Huh,” he spoke before continuing forward.

—

“I tried teaching you the basics, and you scorched my fuckin’ pans,” Wyatt laughed, shaking his head. “They got classes for that, man. Burn their shit.” It wasn’t that he really minded teaching Charlie, it was just that that probably meant that Finn would be around, and Wyatt didn’t really want any part of that. He nodded in agreement when Charlie went on to say that this was a place he’d fit in better once he was… undead. Food would probably be easier to come by at least, since Charlie didn’t strike Wyatt as the type to suddenly be okay with killing people for food. His loss.

The conversation turned to Caleb, and Wyatt frowned. He was not making the connection between the word ‘demon’ and the literal, actual thing that existed, figuring it was just a turn of phrase. It felt harsh, but then so was stabbing someone who Wyatt couldn’t imagine had given Caleb any reason to be stabbed. His messages had gone unanswered thus far, but the next time Wyatt saw Caleb around town, they were going to have words. “That’s good, at least. That things are lookin’ up. Hope it stays that way.” 

“Hm?” Lost in thought, Wyatt hadn’t noticed how deathly-quiet the woods had become. He did now, though, and slowed to a stop. “Wait.” He glanced around them, feeling his proverbial hackles raise. There was something out there. Blinking away his blue eyes, yellow ones taking their place, Wyatt used his thermal vision to try and spot anything hiding in the underbrush. There was a vibration behind him, a pretty sizable one, even though it wasn’t paired with a sound that matched. Confused, Wyatt turned and saw the heat signature of something pretty big lurking in the distance, and he stepped toward Charlie. “We should go,” he urged the other in the direction that moved away from the thing he could see, opposite of the trail itself. 

—

Charlie huffed and puffed as Wyatt spoke of his ruined pans. “I replaced them with top-of-the-line shit!” He retaliated with a groan. “And I bought you those premium fuckin’ steaks you had been talking about.” He pouted and stomped his feet in protest as they kept walking. “But fine, I get it. You don’t want me around, it’s fine.” He raised his hands in clear submission, ready to turn to the next subject. 

He watched as Wyatt went somewhere else, but knew it wasn’t his place to comment, not anymore. Instead, he kept looking in the tree line, then watched as Wyatt stopped and his eyes flickered to their reptilian yellow ones. Charlie watched him, then followed his gaze. He didn’t see what the other saw, which wasn’t too surprising. “Uh, what is it?” He found himself asking, unsure what was out there. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stick around to find out. 

He then nodded his head, deciding to follow Wyatt’s instincts on this, and followed his friend from the trail, but that’s when the large beast moved closer. One moment they were alone, and the next, there was a large deer-like monstrosity with a bright red head. “What the fuck…” Charlie whispered, eyes going wide as he watched it charge another deer, butted it with its head, and the deer fell down, dead. 

Charlie reared back, gripping Wyatt’s arm, frozen in place. They were in serious danger now, but how the fuck were they supposed to get out of here? That thing was fast. “Wyatt… what the fuck?” He whispered, unable to tear his gaze from the mutant deer, lest it charge at them next.

—

It didn't look like either of them were going to be able to outrun this thing, and it was facing them down now. “Don't know,” Wyatt growled, heart beating quickly in his chest as he tried to figure out the best course of action here. Seemed like getting them both the fuck out of dodge ASAP was the move, and that meant he was going to have to shift. He prayed that it'd function as intended this time, none of this half-assed crap that'd been happening in the ring. But the jeans had to go, those were a bitch and a half to rip through. Also he liked them, damn it. “Start runnin',” he instructed Charlie, gaze fixed on the creature. “I'll catch up.” He was already kicking off his shoes, motioning for Charlie to head in the direction of the ocean with a jerk of his head, disrobing in record time and starting the shift.

The red headed deer (why did redheaded things hate him so much?) lowered its head and started to charge. Wyatt closed his eyes and focused, pissed that it took so much concentration lately when it was supposed to be like second nature. No, first nature. This was his natural state of being. Still, his body complied (much to his relief) and the monster barreling toward them started to look smaller as he towered into the air. Without waiting for the whole thing to be done, Wyatt turned tail and ran after Charlie, catching up with him easily. “Hold on!” he shouted as he scooped the musician up in his mouth, careful not to bite down and cause harm. The monster was close behind, thrashing those red antlers around and making a sound that made elk calls sound like soothing lullabies. Wyatt picked up the pace, loping along the forest floor, dodging trees and leaping over fallen logs, all while keeping his jaw locked in place half-open to keep Charlie safe. 

The trees began to thin, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Wyatt realized he could see the ocean. But it was… very far below them. The cliff's edge came up suddenly and the lamia skidded to a stop, sending dirt, grass, and pebbles flying over the edge. He swung his head around to look at their pursuer, who had lost some ground but was not slowing down. 

At a loss, the shifter peered carefully over the edge. Fuck. He let Charlie climb out of his mouth, then held out his arms like he wanted to pull him in for a hug. “... I think we gotta jump.”

—

As soon as Wyatt instructed him to start running, Charlie didn’t need to be told twice. He remembered all of his skipped gym classes back in high school and cursed himself as he sprinted as fast as he could away from the creature with the bright red head. Then, he was being scooped up, holding back a yelp as he realized it was Wyatt helping him out. 

He allowed himself to be carried, though the whole experience felt surreal and made everything feel like an out of body experience. “This is fucking terrifying!” Charlie exclaimed from the inside of the lamia’s mouth, though at the same time? This was fucking metal as fuck. “Run, Barlow! Run!” He shouted, having no other way to help out than shout words of encouragement. 

When Wyatt opened his mouth, Charlie scurried out with a wild look in his eyes, staring over the cliff’s edge, then back at his friend. “I think we have to jump, too.” Charlie replied with a deep breath before wrapping his arms around Wyatt and closing his eyes tightly. “Jump, man!” Charlie shouted, noticing the devil deer running straight for them. “JUMP!” He shouted again before using all his weight with Wyatt’s to jump over the edge of the cliff. 

For a moment, they were falling through the air, and Charlie felt his heart drop through his stomach. Charlie took a deep breath and held it before they hit the water, going under, under, under. They began to float back up, and Charlie gasped for breath as soon as they resurfaced. He opened his eyes, still clinging to the lamia for dear life as he looked back up at where they had jumped to see an angry evil deer staring down at them, but not following. “Holy fucking shit, we lived!” Charlie shouted, letting out a laugh of astonishment. He let go of Wyatt, splashing him with a huge grin on his face. “We fucking lived!”

—

As they plummeted toward the water, Wyatt curled his body around Charlie, twisting in the air to make sure he was going to hit it first. He tried to angle himself to take the blow on his neck and shoulders, finding that to be the sturdiest part of him—no teeth had ever gotten through the natural armor there, after all. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, but he held Charlie firmly against him until he felt their velocity slowing. Then, the lamia released his friend, eyes snapping open and nosing him toward the surface. They broke through the waves, Wyatt sucking in a deep breath and relishing the ache—they'd lived. Charlie was goddamn right. Laughing as the man let go of his head to splash him, Wyatt blew saltwater out of his nose in a misty spray, then swam close again and nudged Charlie with his shoulder. “Climb on, Evel Knievel, I'll get us back to shore.” And then came the long trek back up to the car. Well, it looked like they were still getting their hike after all.

—

Charlie grinned brightly as he was misted by Wyatt, shaking his head as he climbed onto his friend’s back. “I can’t believe we did that.” He muttered as Wyatt swam them to shore. “I mean, for real. That was kinda fucking freeing, wasn’t it?” He found himself rambling on, the thrill of the jump still coursing through his veins. “We’ve gotta get back to our fucking roots, you and me. Scuba diving, ridiculous shit that bonds us together because if we think about the shit that’s going on in our lives, we’ll fall apart.” Charlie blinked, realizing that was the most honest he’d been with himself in a while.

After they got to shore, Charlie climbed off of his friend’s back and patted his arm. “Thanks for the lift, man.” He spoke with a grin. “Guess we’re walking all the way back to our cars, huh?” Charlie pulled out his soaked phone and frowned, hoping it would turn on. It didn’t. “Welp, I have no sense of direction and my phone is ruined.” He announced, looking toward the other for a hopefully better sense of direction.

—

“Hey, you’re the only one fallin’ apart in this equation,” Wyatt argued, even though they both knew it wasn’t true. “Anyway, yeah. We should.” He laughed again as he watched Charlie pull out his phone. “Yeah, and mine’s… wherever the fuck in the woods my clothes are. I’ll get you to your car and go back on my own, in case that big bitch is still around.” Not having his clothes meant he wasn’t shifting back—he’d rather risk someone seeing him like this than he would someone seeing him human and nude. The last thing he needed was another trip to jail, this time for public indecency. Fuck’s sake. 

The pair struck off up the easiest path they could find back to the top of the ridge, Wyatt making sure to give the area where they’d seen that pissed off mega-deer a wide berth. The lamia had to slow down his usual gait, walking on all fours to better match Charlie’s speed as they tramped through the woods. He had a pretty good sense of where they’d come from, and didn’t think the trail head would be all that far off from where they’d come topside, it wasn’t like they’d been hiking for hours when they had to book it. Maybe an hour, tops. “If you’re wiped… I will let you ride me,” the lamia snorted. “Or if your feet are screamin’ for bein’ wet n’ shoved into shoes. Can’t imagine.” 

—

Unable to suppress the smirk that was growing on his features, Charlie turned to Wyatt and looked him over. “You sound like you’re just looking for an excuse to hold me, man.” Charlie shot at his friend with a soft laugh. “I can handle myself, I’m a big boy.” Charlie looked down at his soaked clothes, glad he didn’t wear his favorite boots today. “Can put one foot in front of the other just like you can.” 

As they walked, Charlie let out a tired sigh. It was easier to run away from the grief he’d been suppressing for so long. It was so much easier to outrun instead of face it head-on. Moments of adrenaline with Wyatt led to philosophical thinking that he didn’t need to go through. He’d already been through so much with his friend. God forbid he made it worse. But still, the more he ran away, the more the threat of the grief threatened to swallow him whole. Charlie scuffed his feet against the ground as the pair walked, gaze downward and sullen instead of the usual cheer that Charlie could so easily wear. 

“I’m… struggling.” He finally spoke, only having voiced such feelings to Finn. “Like the grief, it’s catching up with me and I don’t know what the fuck to do.” Charlie let his posture deflate to that of defeat, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I told you that.” He muttered, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his face. “Forget I said it, back to cheery Charles.” 

—

Maybe he was. Maybe he wished more people would hold him when he looked like this, when he looked the way he was supposed to, the way he’d been born. Maybe Wyatt was so desperate for affection when he felt he was at his most monstrous that he’d lowered the bar all the way to the ground, cracking jokes and hoping people would take pity.

So far, the only taker had been Maggie, and that was almost certainly only because she didn’t know what he really was.

Failing that, the lamia just lapsed into silence. He wasn’t surprised when Charlie broke that silence first, but the chosen topic of conversation did strike him as uncharacteristic. Or perhaps that was just because he didn’t know Charlie as well as he thought, just like he hadn’t known Caleb as well as he’d thought. He probably didn’t know anyone he had ever called a friend down to a very deep level, because he wouldn’t let himself. He almost never let them get that close, for one reason or another. It was his own fault he was alone. 

Charlie was backpedaling, but the gator just shook his head, keeping his gaze on the path (or lack thereof) ahead when he replied. “Let it catch up,” Wyatt advised. “You can’t outrun it. Let it catch up, let it drown you for a while… then come out the other side. Better. Stronger.” He’d gone through it when he’d left his family behind. The moment he ran, he felt he couldn’t stop or else the hurt would find him. But it had anyway, in spite of everything he did to keep it at bay. His anger, his fear, and the sharp, painful ache of longing in his heart when he thought of his mother… “It tore me to shreds. I thought I’d die, I hurt so bad. But I didn’t. I cried and I raged against everythin’ I could find, until one day it just… it just felt like less. And the next day, it was less than that. I put myself back together, piece by piece, and I ain’t ever been that low since.” That was probably a lie—he thought perhaps his time in jail had come close, but that wasn’t part of this conversation. “Let it come. Weather the storm. I know you got it in you.”

—

As Wyatt began to dispense advice Charlie truly didn’t know he had, the rockstar stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the lamia with a face of awe. It wasn’t just good advice, it was the best advice, and Charlie was well and truly shocked. “I…” Charlie blinked, then bit his lip. “Yeah, I know know you’re right. It just…” he trailed off again, shaking his head. “People expect a lot from me. I can’t afford to fall apart.” 

It wasn’t just about him and what he wanted, it was about the people that relied on him to keep a steady paycheck going. He couldn’t take a break because he had a manager, a producer, an agent, a publicist, and so on and so forth. Most of all, there was Finn. Finn didn’t seem to take it well when Charlie wasn’t okay. But couldn’t he feel it? Couldn’t he feel that Charlie was burying it all down, couldn’t he feel that it was there beneath the surface? 

“I’m afraid that the storm will knock me to pieces,” Charlie admitted, slowly beginning to walk again, knowing that if he stopped now, he’d well and truly fall apart. “I think I made… a mistake. A big one.” Charlie wasn’t sure what he was referring to. Was it allowing his friends to go to the cemetery that night? Was it that day in the hospital? Or when he let Finn in that close? Was it letting Wyatt get away? He wasn’t sure. Every day his thoughts swirled into a nasty concoction of guilt and self-hatred that he couldn’t avoid. 

His feet trudged on as he forced himself to walk, that cocktail of self-loathing threatening to overflow. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said softly. “I seem to have a habit of flying too close to the sun and then burning up and falling back down to earth, don’t I? Just a modern-day Icarian nightmare.”

—

“Fuck those people. You gotta stop puttin’ everyone else before yourself,” Wyatt said with a huff. “It's gonna catch up with you one way or another. You might as well be prepared to face it head on, don't let it blindside you if you got the chance.” Wyatt hadn't had that chance, but he wished he had. Maybe he would have gone back home, were that the case. Maybe he'd be playing music in New Orleans and helping his mama come up with new recipes for the restaurant if he'd had this foresight back then, instead of trapped in a town that was too cold, fighting to make money for people who saw him as little more than means to an end. All the people he'd met here would be better for never having crossed his path. Charlie wouldn't have been put in such a hard position, and he'd probably be happier, at least when it came to his love life. 

But there was no going back, so all Wyatt could do was try to convince Charlie to take control of his reality. 

“Don't be sorry. You're gonna make mistakes, but I know you're doin’ the best you can.” He still hadn't looked over at Charlie, finding it much easier to speak openly like this if he didn't make eye contact. “Just… try to learn from it. Like you know I fuckin’ don't.” He laughed bitterly. “Don't be like me.”

—

Charlie stared at Wyatt for a long moment, listening to what his friend was saying and taking it in. Wyatt was right, but Charlie wasn’t sure he was ready to face that pain that was on the other end of things. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be. But he supposed he had to at least try, right? And if it became too much, he could always retreat and go back to the way things have been. Doing crazy shit had given him a rush that rivaled performing. But here was Wyatt, telling him to do what needed to happen, when he couldn’t even do it himself. 

“Well.” Charlie started, pausing as he fought for words he couldn’t quite formulate. “I’ll stop running when you do.” Charlie looked over to Wyatt, a serious expression on his face. “Because I don’t think I can. It’ll tear me apart, everything I lost.” Charlie pressed a hand onto his chest, right where the ring that Gareth never gave him was. “I don’t think I can.” His voice was barely there, and suddenly walking made his legs feel like they were weighted down. “I think I’ll take you up on the piggyback ride,” he decided with a half-hearted smirk. 

As Charlie climbed onto his friend’s back, he couldn’t help but think how surreal all of this was. One of his best friends was a fucking giant alligator. He was going to become a zombie. Finn read people’s emotions when he sucked at it himself, all of it was so surreal. “For what it’s worth,” Charlie found himself speaking after getting situated, “I’m glad that you’re here.”

—

He wasn’t going to argue with a brick wall, and if Charlie felt so certain that he wasn’t ready to face the shadow looming over his head and the storm nipping at his heels, who was Wyatt to push him harder? As Charlie had pointed out, Wyatt wasn’t following his own fuckin’ advice, so it was no wonder that he’d go ignored. Maybe Charlie would feel more ready later, and maybe then he’d think about what Wyatt had said and take it to heart. Or maybe he wouldn’t, and maybe he’d end up as sick and twisted as Wyatt had become. It was out of the lamia’s hands. 

“Sure,” he responded with a breathy chuckle, stopping and lowering himself to the ground so Charlie could climb up on his back. He hadn’t gotten far before Charlie spoke again, and his words made Wyatt’s stomach feel funny. 

“Thanks,” was all he could think to say. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

[tangleweave]

@brooklynislandgirl (continued from xx)

For all his well-meaning, for all his kindly affect, and for all his efforts towards justice and peace… Spider-Man does have a curious sense of decorum when it comes to entering buildings. Even he would make a point of acknowledging it. Most other people would simply use the front door, or perhaps even call ahead to alert their friends that they're in the neighborhood and want to drop in. In the curious case of Beth Riley, the portfolio is expanded beyond the simple niceties of companionship and possibly mutual attraction and also includes medical assistance, ranging from first aid to critical care. Given what she has to offer, it would naturally behoove him to maintain goodwill with her in whatever way he might.

And so one would think that he would be courteous enough to reach out to her when he's on his way to her place. Even more so since tonight, there is no emergency, medical or otherwise, that requires her unique skill-set. All he wants is her ear. Her thoughtful counsel. Maybe he wants her to lend voice to his own convictions, which have spent the better part of the night being tested both from within and without. The rips and tears in his outfit likely speak to the trials he faced tonight.

It won't be the last costume he mends. And it's very far removed from the first.

He can hardly blame Beth for taking her time in considering her reply, and she's far more generous to him than he's a right to receive, considering he'd simply shown up in her window. Beth is kind and gracious to a fault, and he thinks the Admiral likely had very little to do with that. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could have met her brother. From what little she's been willing to share about him, he sounds like both an outright terror, and the perfect safeguard for her. Someone who recognized she was too good for this world and did his level best to shield her from the worst of it whenever he could.

He slips onto the bar stool and listens intently while Beth offers her reply. Speaks to her perspective of living in perpetual paradox. Varied and contradictory belief systems clashing against one another full-time, demanding wildly different behaviors of her in any given moment. He bobs his head. It's a familiar place she describes. He has a home there, too.

"I'll bet you could ask a bunch of folks out there, they'd say that being Spider-Man has got to be pretty awesome," he murmurs, as he clasps his hands about the coffee mug she's given him. "All that strength. All that acrobatic skill. He could do anything he wanted to. If I had all that ability, what would I do with it? Pro wrestling, maybe, or Cirque du Soleil. Perform, make tons of money, travel the world. Not be stuck in this dead-end job… not be lonely… not feel helpless."

He gives a listless shrug that probably looks more morose than it's actually meant to convey. "I could be doing all of that. Or none of that, and something else entirely. I don't have to do this. Superpowered people in costumes are a dime a dozen in New York. But then, so are jerks who're always looking to take by force what's not theirs."

He turns his head a little, as though glancing from his cup to Beth. "There's a long story behind it, but maybe you've heard of a guy who calls himself Carnage. He's… well, he's one seriously bad guy. Really messed up in the head. And he has super powers which just make it way easier for him to do what he wants. Which is to kill pretty much everyone. He's like if Charlie Manson was bulletproof and could turn his hands into knives."

He swipes a hand like he's brushing a dust bunny off her immaculate kitchen island. "Anyway, tonight was a big, long fight with him. Bunch of good people got hurt. I had the chance to take him down. Like, for good." He hesitates, tilting his head back contemplatively. "Why do they call it that? Is it good, when you take a life?"

Then he peers at her again. "I couldn't do it. Not even for this guy. I left him to the folks who'll lock him back up, with no guarantee that he won't escape again and start it all up again. And the people who wanted to know why I held back. Cops. Cloak and Dagger. Iron Fist. Wolverine. Ghost Rider -- Beth, I had Captain America telling me nobody would've blamed me if I'd taken him out. Do you know what that's like, having one of your superhero idols telling you, 'You could have sacrificed your principles and I wouldn't have looked at you any differently'?"

He sets his palms on the wood surface of the bar. "What am I supposed to do with that? I've never killed anyone. What would even give me the right? Do the rules change when it's someone bad enough?"

He lets out a sigh, not really expecting an answer from her immediately. For all he knows, she's only catching about half of what he's saying; he knows the mask occludes some of her ability to comprehend him. But it's not like Peter Parker could tell her about any of this while serving soup at the FEAST Center, now, is it?

"I keep thinking about that moment when Frodo says he wishes Bilbo had killed Gollum when he had the chance. And then Gandalf says, 'Many who live deserve death, and some who die deserve life. Can you give it to them?' And I know the answer for myself, anyway. I take a life, I can't ever give it back. That's not one of my superpowers. And life is precious. It's so fleeting and fragile. It's not mine to take away from someone. I already know what…"

He bites his tongue just in time. He already knows what his dearly departed uncle would say. He already knows what his heart tells him is right.

He already knows how it feels to watch in impotence as a life is stolen away.

"… I can respect myself." He says it tightly enough that it's evident he struggles to really believe it. "When I look in the mirror, I see someone who's driven to do the right thing. I just don't think I realized that so many of my peers figured 'right' to be a movable feast, depending on who it's getting served to. And I don't know if I can look at some of them the same way now."

[ash-ormes]

With the ages of each of them and I'm my au the family tree. So there are the four parents Mrs. Afton (31), Clara(28), Willam(30), and Vincent(30) (I consider him to be William's twin brother that help raise the kids with Clara I know Vincent is just William but in this au he is his own person) the oldest kid is Terrence(17 at the start of the au 17 and ends to be around 40ish i don't have exaxt ages just around the ages of these), next is Michael(just turned 16), then Evan (c.c) and Elizabeth (both are 5 at the start and by Evans death he is just turned 6) are twins they are the youngest.

Next I will get in to the official time line I am only going with the afton family for this one I will make another post with the animatonics in my next post) I will start at the first death cause every thing up to here is based on matpats time line.

So the first death in my au is Elizabeth in short Mrs. Afton was going to watch the kids then she told willam to do it and Willam told Terrence to watch them and Terrence told Michael to watch them so Micheal told C.c (I will refer to him as c.c) to watch Elizabeth. So when Eli(I will call Elizabeth as Eli) wanted to go and see circus baby C.c being only five and Eli being at the time much stronger as sassyer then he is couldn't stop her as when she ran into the room the cut seen from baby happens but the reason baby doesn't see C.c is cause he was running to get to Eli but was behind on of the tables (in his game its shown that he can easily hid under are around tables) so they were too small to be seen as she is stuck in the chest baby says nobody heard her crys or screams or banging but I think C.c would be crying and banging and yelling cause in my au Elizabeth is a daddy's girl and refuses to cry or seem weak. So when Willam realizes that the has not seen Eli or C.c in a long time he tells Terrence's and Michael to do it and they come back and say he was crying for some reason saying Eli was in baby. So as soon as Willam realizes what happened he tells the two to close up and he will check on Evan and Eli. So he goes and walks in grabbing C.c and whispering that if he told anyone shit from what happened that he would make sure it would happen to him.

Next when there mom Mrs. Afton realizes her kid is missing and her husband is acting like nothing happend she reports her missing and decides to divorce him but oh no the night she tells Willam and drives away turns out he slashed her tires and she skid down the road and dead (like that one animation) so when the police first ask about the Mrs. Afton they all don't say anything but they take more time one C.c cause they think they can get him to Crack under pressure and so when Willam realizes it he goes and conditions C.c (abuses him and anything that he trys to talk to anyone about any of this they don't believe him aka his friends in his game) which the missing person and the death gets weaped under the rug.

The next death Charlie Willam thinks that sense Henry has a daughter and he doesn't that he should Take Henry's daughter away and so after a drunken night at the bar he ends up at the restaurant at he kills Charlie out which is when he drives home and Willam walks in Micheal tells him to him in other words to go easy on him and he gets angry and stuff so when he goes out side he sees the foot prints which is never explained. So the rest of mid night moterous continues the same. But I think that the person who brought C.c to that place was Fredbear cause at this time he still loves the animatonics as he see's Charlie's death but also goes to his mother's grave.

The next death is C.c which happens after Willam in plants the idea of having a prank on C.c birthday, so that in Willams mind that he rigeds every thing to kill if someone did something and he put the nightmares in the basement during this time but he needs a place to put the funtimes and he can use the nightmares now so he puts the funtimes down stairs and brings the nightmares up in Elis old room he puts them there at night and makes them want to try to get into C.c room so C.c becomes afraid of the animatonics so then Willam is neglectful and abusive to Michael and C.c (he hids C.c abuse from Mick so that mick hats C.c also Terrence is in his twenty's and soon to be starting as a security guard once he gets out of college) but Mick thinks that C.c did something to Eli and he almost breaks C.c to telling him but Willam walking into the room and Mick tell him what he is doing and says C.c is about to tell him and Willam gives C.c a look and C.c just starts to cry as he runs our of the room Willam following which he then locks C.c in his room and put the idea of putting C.c in fredbears mouth, and soon Willam changes the gears to deadly. So the rest of the normal stuff happens thought out fnaf 4 (the ones who killed him though were not Terrences friends younger siblings so the names we associated with them are actually there older siblings and then missing children are there younger siblings other then fritz(aka foxy) he is an only child).

The next deaths are the 5 missing children every thing is the same but in the back ground Willam made C.c make friends with the kids so how he loowers them back is telling them he knows where C.c is he's just in the back which other then with Susie he does that and kills them so Charlie puts them in the suits and Cassidy even though knowing C.c still kicked him out of the suit so C.c become shadow freddy as we see he has more a Fredbear design so I think that's what he became.

The next deaths are Terrence and Jermey they both dead soon after each other I believe in fnaf 2 we play as Micheal but phone guy in my au is Terrence though out and he died during the time Jermey was killed and Jermey is one of his friends from high school so Jermey put in his word as his dad was pushed out of the company by Henry but the animatonics thought that Terrence was Willam so they were more aggressive on one of his nights he was recording and so the last voice memo from phone guy happened cause I don't think they would attack anyone other then people who look like Willam. But they did attake Jermey because C.c seeing Terrence and Jermey his bullies older brothers he tempers with them and they attake Jermey which leads to him getting bit (side note I think it was magle who bit him cause I think magle is Susie's dog so seeing anyone wearing what killed him he is going to attake if he is able to and C.c disabled his restrictions to attake and kill).

The next death is Willam (side note I know that Willam told Mike to find Eli but how he did it me and my friend found away Mike doesn't check his messages so often so when he does it's way after Willam's death) but everything is the same but the reason why the animatonics were able to get into the room and the spring lot was in there was cause Charlie and C.c busted a pipe and knew that C.c dad would go into the spring lot but the water would kill him and so they laughed as they killed him as that's why they weren't there in the sense.

And the next parts are the same as matpats story line other then bits and pieces which I am happy to answer if asked. But that is all I am going to type for to day I will continue tomorrow for where I cut matpat off again and pick up on my au.

[neerdokells]

The Farm, Part 18

We were awakened just before dawn by wolves licking us, gently rubbing their muzzles against us and whining for us to stir. Our heat had subsided somewhat, but we were still on a high from the night before and therefore subject to the instincts of our forms. We rose to join the pack. We were halfway to the glade when we heard Brutus speak.

“Nora,” he said. We all stopped, looking at one another and then him in confusion. “Nora,” he said again, approaching her. “They’re calling you.” He turned his head, and we followed the movement until we could see the farmhouse with two men watching us from the back porch. We recognized a desire to approach them before we recognized who they were. We stopped a few feet from them and sat up as the canines we were, our tails wagging, our minds finally clearing and returning to normal.

“God, look at them,” George said, stepping down and scratching me behind my ear. It was a blissful sensation, and I found my tongue hanging out of my mouth involuntarily as I leaned into his hand. “I never paid much mind to furries, but I'm starting to think I should have!”

“Mmm, yeah,” Malcolm said, leaning on the railing. “I could enjoy teaching them some tricks. But we need to either figure out which one is Nora and get her back, or figure out a way to call her out of work.”

“It's this one,” George answered, walking over and cupping Nora's muzzle in his hands. “I'd know her in any form.” She yipped happily and licked his face.

“You think they understand you right now?” We all barked in response. “Oh. I guess so. Well, about the tricks thing–” Portia walked onto the porch and rubbed against him, and he lowered his hand into her fur to scratch at her neck. “Well, if you like the idea, we can definitely play at this again some time. But do you have to stay in this form?”

Portia looked to me, and I felt the command. With a howl, I pulled apart the magic that had changed us, and we all returned to human forms, though mine was now decidedly female. We each stood up and dusted ourselves off, then hurried into the house to warm up. Nora went straight to get ready for work, while Portia and I bundled up in the living room. That evening, as we sat around the fireplace under a shared quilt with coffee and tea, Evan came in from the backyard.

“What happened last night?” Charlie asked as Evan kissed his cheek and sat down next to him on the loveseat.

“While you guys were out at the bar, I got back from checking on my pack and decided to take a nap in the yard,” Evan explained. “And then I woke up with the three of them there, and the scent of their pheromones were overwhelming.” He nodded toward us. “Please tell me that was your intention?”

“We wanted to know what that knotted dick of yours felt like,” Nora answered, “but I don’t fully understand what happened to us when we changed.”

“We wanted to be sexually attractive to a wolf,” I said. “I don't think any of us thought through what that meant.”

“What did it mean?”

“I think we were in heat.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that. Sexy bitches in heat.”

“Hey, uh, hold on,” George said. “Heat doesn't just mean horny for wolves. Were you, uh, how to ask this?”

Mistress’ eyes grew wide as plates. “Were we fertile?!?”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on sensing the inner workings of my body. As a shapeshifter, I found it came pretty naturally to know what was going on down to the cellular level if I paid it half a mind. “Uh…yes. My body is definitely under the impression I was trying to get pregnant.”

“Did it work?” Charlie asked.

“Too soon to tell. I won’t know until an egg tries to implant, if it does.”

“If any of you got pregnant from that, would you be having…puppies?”

“I know this one,” Evan said, “it comes up with werewolves. If you change form, by your own power or under someone else’s, and you’re pregnant, the fetus changes form with you. When you go into labor, you get stuck in whatever form you’re in, and that’s the form the baby takes when it’s born.”

“So if I got pregnant last night, and I remain human the rest of the pregnancy, I’ll have a baby human?” Nora asked.

“Well. It doesn’t change the number of babies you’re going to have, and since we were wolves at the time, it probably won’t be one.”

“Four to seven to a litter, on average, but as many as ten,” Malcolm said. We all turned to look at him. “What? When I learned we were going to have wolves living in the glade, I looked up information on them.”

“I could be pregnant with ten babies?” Mistress asked.

“Might not want to be human for that,” Nora said. “So wait, if I get pregnant in any form, and I’m a fairy, I could just choose to have fairy babies or human babies?”

“Anything you want, I suppose,” Evan said. “You could deliver fish if you wanted.”

“And the fact that their parents were humans, or kinda human, or something, wouldn’t change that?”

“They might be smarter than your average fish, but nothing beyond that. My wolf children are all just wolves, because their mother was a wolf. The fact that I’m human sometimes didn’t seem to change much for them.”

“Full moon begins this Friday,” I pointed out. “Are we going through with the planned ritual?”

“Absolutely!” Nora said.

“But what if you are pregnant?” George asked.

“Especially if I’m pregnant! If I’m gonna be dealing with a litter of babies in me for months, and then childbirth, I want to be able to choose my form without depending on Esme! No offense.”

“None taken,” I said, “it sounds like it’d come in handy.”

“Maybe I should be a fairy,” Mistress muttered, looking down and rubbing her belly.

[novashelby]

My take on Tommy not being capable of romantic love :-

yes he's manipulative, uses people to get what he wants, but I disagree with anon and you on his charector Analysis and here's why

he pimped out grace to Kimber and people really tend to look past how shitty that was and even grace was too quick to forgive him, but he was still not that close to grace back then and still figuring out his feelings, he does come back to get her though bcz his conscience troubles him as he had started to develop feelings.. have some sort of care for her...

The first moment where they really bond and he sort of fell for her was when she shoots the IRA guy, he is having ptsd when he can't stop hitting the second one with spitton, grace sees it she momentarily recoils but, she sees him to , she understands him, she asks him if he is okay?she embraces him right after seeing him at his worst and I feel that's first time he feels not only seen but also accepted when it comes to his trauma , " now you've seen me" you might call it trauma bonding but it's not superficial or toxic they really have moment of true intimacy there, I don't want to go on here and make this longer than it is, but they didn't develop grace and Tommy's relationship enough and didn't did her charector justice in later seasons but he did love her , there are moments where there's mirroring between them specially in first season, and he sees her not just a typical bar maid he can see there's so much more too it, there so many moments between some very simply where just with their eyes they convey so much, when he ask her "to help him with life buisness fucking everything" it shows he's Willing to open up, that he's neither too stuck up nor egoistic or chauvinistic, even the way that sex scene is filmed is very different from his others there's vulnerability and intimacy there also a sense of paternership , there are many ways where the show shows us he sees her as an equal, yes there relationship isn't build up that well specially since in first season she's undercover and in second and third we barely see them, also not that there isn't some degree of infatuation as well between them but there's also genuine connection both can coexist, when he almost proposes to her in garrison on black star day, and back tracks on it when he feels she is upset , when he says " we are the same, we can talk"

When he forgives her for betraying him quite quickly , despite the fact that Danny died bcz of her betrayal , and everything could have gone wrong it was a big deal, he's heartbroken but he still understands her, forgives her, sees her, as Polly says " he's too soft ,soft like you" to grace all these things show that he truly cared .

the scene between them when when she says she loves him and he says we can say it all we want but doesn't changed a thing shows the difference between the world they come from.

Also someone said,cillian clarified in an interview that he never cheated on grace probably wouldn't have, we can't say for sure how their relationship would have panned out but there was definitely scope there specially if grace understood him.

He was very much willing to give up the buisness for her make something legitimate as he says, he was forced/blackmailed to do the deal with the Russians by the section he's frustrated because of the danger that's putting charlie and grace in , he has to do it even though u can see he doesn't want to he tries to back out but can't, he's blackmailed by Campbell too for the assisination at the races and to kill that IRA guy, he hated it being used by posh people, he tries to get out of it what he can, there's a time when he says to Polly " these people they are worst then us " that has lot of weight, if u really look at it, yes he's ambitious but he's not money crazy or uncesserally cruel or sadistic, he is laid back he's hardly aggressive, he tries to get his way with least collateral damage possible and only time we see him loose control is after ruby and grace''s death, even then he doesn't really tortures changretta and shoots him.

He didn't want to kill IRA men, it's grace who shoots and he tells her why did you shoot , and he had to then combat, he was even hesitant to shoot Kimber u can see he shoots only after he shoots Danny whereas he could have earlier , he would have preferred to take over without it.

He doesn't react when Michaels adoptive mom hits him, or when that lady who's son arthur killed in boxing ring when she baits them to changretta makes them walk in trap , he lets her go too even after her betrayal , he isn't really unreasonably vindictive either. When Michael drawns all the money of the company despite of Tommy telling him to pull the money out of the stock market he's kind of lenient n gives him a chance comparatively , he"s not hurting him or Polly just for money, he's not exploitative either.

There's one scene that says alot when he takes John's side on angel changretta's case , you see the first thing he says is " we do it because we can" but very quickly the next thing he says is " because if we don't they will , they will come for us and they won't stop until each of us is dead" look at the scene there's body language and other things as well he's scared, that's the subtext, he's in survival mode, he's been though war and that's what a lot of his trauma is about, in the begging of the series itself he says to Polly I have been through war I 'v learnt some things, yes living like you are already dead makes you fearless but also takes out the joy and hope and light out of your life because, living like you are already dead isn't actually living at all it's surviving it's constantly being in a Survival mode, at surface it might seem like being power hungry or arrogant or having too fragile of an ego , the " taking what u want " but if u look closely and with all the examples I have given and more you see that's not exactly what he is

he's trying to make way for himself in a world that's pitted against him, the " they are worst than us" " will never accept us" they whole angle of rich and posh people using him, there's a contrast and struggle the show paints, he also faces racism with whole being a gypsy thing, when he says to Campbell "he knew what he did to Polly " , and they both will be in hell , the show does makes a difference, it shows though Tommy isn't right many people in power around him are worst and hypocrites that's also a point in grace falling for him and realising that things aren't that black and white and that police and govt. Can be more horrible than even the gangsters, the dialogue when Campbell calls Tommy an animal and she's like but yet it was him " that tried to stop me" ( from shoting ira men), we never see Tommy actually being physically aggressive with women, forcing himself upon them not taking well to rejection or exploiting people in an extreme manner he has a detached buisness like attitude, but not unessarily mean or cruel.

He is no feminist icon but he's not mysoginistic either, he's capable of treating women as equal we see that with his relationships with Polly , Ada and grace .

He is opposed to Ada's marriage for practical reasons but supports and helps in the end anyways.

And offcuz not seen him hitting a kid or being bit pedo either, did u forget the scene where he hits that NUN for abusing kids , how angry he is, one of the themes of the show is despite of his flaws how he is almost the lesser evil, when it comes to people with power there, that whole " you are the bad guy but you are our bad guy " dialog from Harry and many things in show make it that way.

So I don't know based on what you are saying Tommy in TBOIC is more realistic or honest take on his charector, I disagree for all the above stated reasons, he is not, because he is not that mysoginistic, agressive, physically abusive, extremely exploitative etc.etc. He does have a moral compas to an extent sure, also you don't have to write a canon Tommy in your fic, that's your prerogative and creative freedom, but I just don't agree with that as an charector analysis.

yes he is a gangster and has his set of toxic traits but he isn't the typical gangster archetype either, I think many people who think that way are basically going on surface level based on his mannerisms and lots of other superficial things and miss a lot of nuance about the charector, he isn't the tom hardy kind of ganster from the movie lengend, Tommy actually has emotional intelligence and is capable of romantic love we see that many times, though he's utterly lonely and gets only more and more distanced from his emotional body as the series goes on. He uses people to get what he wants and surely is a complex charector with his flaws but he's also not really the impulsive , aggressive , or the most simple typical chauvinistic kind, he's not narssicistic

his actions before falling for grace completely can't define him, he was willing to leave the buisness for her I think he was genuine about that and in the show we see he is pressured and blackmailed to do the deal with Russians he isn't doing it out of greed but because he's stuck. Yes he He's Loyal and Pragmatic, he is loyal to his family and those close to him, but his decisions are often pragmatic, even if they hurt the people he loves. He prioritizes the survival and success of his business and is willing to make hard choices, he sees his buisness as a means to protect his family and secure their future and status even if it ends up hurting them sure but he is not necessarily about putting it above love and family . His strive for power is his strive for control and survival in many ways more than just being about money and ambition.

Tommy was pressured and blackmailed into doing the deal with the Russians in Season 3. His involvement with the Russians wasn’t something he wanted, particularly because of the danger it posed to his family, including Grace and their son, Charlie.

At the beginning of Season 3, Tommy is trying to live a more legitimate life, having married Grace and started a family. However, he's coerced into working with the Russians by a group called the Economic League ("The Section"), a powerful organization with deep political ties. They use blackmail, including threats to his family, to force him into brokering dangerous and illegal deals with the Russian aristocracy.

Tommy is acutely aware of the risks involved and is reluctant to get involved precisely because he doesn't want to endanger Grace and Charlie. He even expresses concern about how his business dealings could expose his loved ones to danger. Unfortunately, despite his efforts to protect them, the situation spirals out of control, leading to Grace's tragic death.

This moment marks a turning point for Tommy. After Grace's death, he becomes even more driven by his ambition and thirst for power, in part as a way to cope with his grief and guilt. But during this phase, it’s clear that he initially wanted to keep his family safe and avoid deeper involvement in the dangerous deals.

So while Tommy is often portrayed as ruthless and ambitious, this situation demonstrates that there are moments when he’s forced into compromising his values and relationships for survival, making him a more tragic and layered character.

Beneath his tough exterior, he is haunted by his past, particularly his experiences in the war and the loss of loved ones. He struggles with PTSD, guilt, and an inner void. Tommy exists in amorally grey area. While he engages in crime and violence, he also has a sense of justice and loyalty to his family and community. He can be both cruel and compassionate.

He is shaped by the violence and instability of his environment, and his ambition and pain coexist in a constant internal battle.

Yes Tommy’s actions show that while he deeply values his family, his relentless drive for power and success often leads him to sacrifice personal relationships. His ambition blinds him to the emotional toll, making it seem like he is willing to put business first, even at the cost of love and family bonds.

it's not like he lacks the capacity for it and is just about his ambition either, so he is capable of romantic love I feel that's pretty much shown in the the show .

That's just the way I like to use his character. I meant more that I don't think he's suitable for romantic relations. He's toxic. He's a gangster. I get what you're saying and I'm not gonna disagree.

But thank you for this novel. I'm wondering if I can add it to my good reads? (Not trying to be rude, but funny).

I wish I had more capacity to answer you thoroughly, but I don't.

I can tell you are a Grace fan. I still stand by my opinion that their relationship was as favorable as white milk. Personally. But I respect your take. 👍

[saltcxrcle]

pull it to the side ⥁ s. winchester

summary: sam wants to try something out.

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem reader, [can be read as gn afab! reader]

word count: 1.3K

warnings: MINORS DNI, hint of dom/sub dynamics, oral fem! receiving, biting, slight choking, smug sam, porn w/out plot, no use of y/n, kinda edited

a/n: uhh hi guys this came out of nowhere but it was sparked because of guess by charlie xcx and billie so yeah here it is loll [also the title is a lyric from the song]

anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You and Sam all but stumbled into the room, lips attached to one other as you guys hastily pawed at each other, eager to get rid of the troublesome clothes on your bodies. Through the haze of lust, you could tell that you were being pushed back, and you had landed on the edge of the bed. Your lips had finally separated from Sam’s for the first time since you entered the room. 

Your naked chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath underneath Sam’s hungry gaze. You were already so fucked out, and Sam hadn’t done anything but overwhelm you with his kisses and insistent hands. You were stripped naked, barring your underwear, which had yet to be taken off and practically soaked through with your arousal, making the soft white color of the panties almost translucent. 

Sam’s large form loomed over you, making you lean back until your bare back hit the sheets of the bed. Sam’s lips were pulled into a salacious smirk as he hovered over you, his hips slotting in between your open legs. You let out a soft moan as you felt the rough denim of his jeans rut against your clothed core. 

You saw Sam’s lips twitch up further before planting soft, teasing kisses across your jaw and cheek before capturing your lips between his. His tongue breached your mouth instantly, swiping his tongue against yours and making your brain go haywire as his warm hands roamed over your thighs and hips until one of them made it to one of your breasts and started to knead it. A keening whine left your mouth as he pinched the hardened nub in between his fingers. 

A low chuckle rumbled in Sam’s chest. “God, I love your noises.” He mumbled against your lips before biting the bottom one gently. 

His lips left yours, and he skimmed his lips down your jaw with a feather-light touch as he kissed and nipped at your neck. Sam filled your senses as you felt his mouth trail lower and lower, kissing and biting anywhere he could. You knew you would be covered in small bruises and bite marks by the time Sam was done with you, but you couldn’t give a single shit about it at the moment as you felt his breath ghost against your lower belly as he sunk in between your open legs. 

“Fuck.” Sam breathed out when he saw the state of your underwear. “You’re soaking, aren’t you sweetheart?” You could hear the satisfaction in his voice as he left sloppy kisses on your inner thighs. 

One of your hands made its way into his hair, brushing the hair away from his forehead while the other gripped the sheets next to you tightly. When you met his eyes, the hazel in them was non-existent as they were overtaken by the lust that had taken over any rational he had. 

“S’all for you.” You managed to rasp out. 

“All for me?” The smirk that was on his face could have rivaled the devil’s as he sucked a mark into your plush inner thigh. Sam all but shoved his face into your crotch; you felt him take a deep inhale of your clothed cunt and let out a groan. “You smell so good.”

A soft whimper left your lips as his lips kissed your covered mound through your underwear. Sam started to lap at your cunt through the soaked material, making it even wetter. 

“Fuck.” He said with a grunt. “You’re so wet. I can taste you through your underwear.” Sam went from licking to kissing at your clit. 

You could feel how your underwear was stuck to your cunt like a second skin. Low moans and whines left your parted lips as Sam mouthed at your cunt, licking and kissing at it with your soaked panties acting as the only barrier between your dripping core and his mouth. 

One of Sam’s hands left your thigh to pull the material of your underwear taut against you, making a small yelp escape your mouth at the new sensation. 

Sam pulled away for a moment. “Bet if I could make you cum just like this.” He said to himself, tugging the underwear tighter against you.  

You tugged at the strands on top of his head, making Sam look up at your shaking head. “Take them off.” You pouted at him. 

You moved the hand that wasn’t in Sam’s hair off of the bed and to the waistband of your underwear. Sam acted quickly and used his free hand to grab your wrist and pin it back down on the bed. 

Sam moved from his spot between your legs to hover over you, your hand falling from his hair as he shook his head and looked at you with a stern glare.

He clicked his tongue at you. “You’re not in charge tonight.” 

You couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face. Before you could even blink, both of your wrists were pinned above your head in one of Sam’s hands on the headboard while the other wrapped around the base of your neck loosely. 

“You wanna act like a brat tonight? Because I’ll treat you like one.” Sam’s nostrils flared as he leaned closer to you, his nose brushing against yours, and you held his fiery gaze. 

You shook your head at him. “Wanna be your good girl.” 

“Then you’ll take what I give you.” The hand that was at the base of your neck moved up to wrap around your neck, but he didn’t put any pressure on it. A small whimper left your lips at the feeling of Sam’s big hand around your throat. 

Sam sent you a dark smirk before kissing you fast and hard. “Keep them there.” He squeezed your wrists before slinking down your body until he was face-to-face with your covered cunt again. He pulled your underwear hard against you and wasted no time trying to get you to cum. 

You wished you could feel his talented tongue against your bare cunt, but pleasure still surged through you as you felt him press his tongue hard against you and focused on your clothed clit. Sam managed to suck at it through the fabric, making you buck against his mouth. You could feel the familiar heat brew in your lower belly as Sam continued his ministrations. You were writhing on the bed, trying to keep your hands against the headboard as you tried to grind against Sam’s face. 

Sam threw an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he ate you out like a man starved. Loud moans erupted from the back of your throat as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. 

Sam could tell you were getting close. “You gonna cum, pretty girl?” 

“Yes!” You gasped.” Pl-please let me cum.” You all but whined out, tears welling up in your eyes. You were so worked up, and all you wanted was for Sam to let you cum and finally fuck you. 

Sam chuckled against you, the vibrations making the warmth in your core even hotter. “Gonna make you cum.” He doubled down, wanting to make you cum as soon as possible. 

You were covered in a sheen of sweat as you felt the band in your core become tighter and tighter. Sam took your clit and sucked on it hard, biting it lightly, and the band snapped. Your mouth was open in a silent moan as pleasure racked through your body. Sam mouthed at your soaked-through underwear as you came down, shiny with his spit and your cum. 

Sam planted soft kisses up your body and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips when you finally calmed down. You let out a low moan as you tasted yourself against his slick-covered lips. You didn’t realize that your eyes had closed until they fluttered open to see Sam’s satisfied smile. 

“Told you I could make cum with them on.” 

[foodfightnovelization]

Chapter 6: Analysis and Discussion

Here we are in Chapter 6, and Dex is making his way to the Copabanana through a seedy back-alley known as the Discount Aisle District. This area of the market goes unnamed in the actual movie- it just cuts to a darker, shady-looking area, but it makes sense this is obviously the personification of the discount aisle. We see Polar Penguin, an ice cream Ike, being shaken down by Cheazel the Weasel. And man, I love this character! He's snakey, he's sneaky, he's a parody of Peter Lorre's character from Casablanca, he has weird stretchy limbs and he's just kinda a charming rogue type of character. Like Han Solo if he was a weasel, a mascot for a brand of cheese, and lived in a supermarket.

The scene continues as Dex demands Cheazel lets Polar go, and Cheazel instantly drops him, hoping to make a quick buck off the Dogtective instead. It's mentioned he has some items he'd be interested in selling him, such as poker chips and watches and "other supermarket debris" and I like the implication here that all the things he's selling are people's belongings that they've dropped whilst shopping. In the movie, he opens up his coat to show off these items and says "Perhaps you desire a companion for those, heh heh, lonely bachelor nights?" and we see a sex doll in one of the compartments of his jacket. This is entirely left out of the novelization, which is good because showing a blowup doll in something intended for children is UNUSUAL. We also get another Casablanca reference here, with Cheazel saying "You despise me, don't you?" This is a quote from Peter Lorre's character Ugarte, who Cheazel is almost entirely a homage to.

Cheazel gets hit by a passing train, which Dex hitches a ride on to get to the Copabanana. Once he arrives at his club, he's greeted by Hedda Shopper who asks if he's still single (he is) as he greets Maximilius and enters. He then notices Polar Penguin from earlier step into the crowd, hoping to be let in. This is more or less the same as it is in the movie, so let's move on.

Polar gets let into the the club, thanking Dex for looking out for him, and we enter the Copabanana. Inside, we're treated to a description of "an upmarket canned fish Ike" who's apparently the maitre d', leading guests to their tables. In the movie this is Charlie the Tuna, mascot of real-world brand Sunkist Tuna, so this is once again just a case of the novelization having to avoid naming copyrighted products. Additionally, in the movie one of the guests following him is a Roman gladiator who falls into a cow's asshole and screams "Oh, I'm stuck in a butt, it's so disgusting!" No I'm not making this up, and it's been wisely left out of the novelization (or perhaps was added to the script after the novelization was written).

Dex sits at the bar and asks "Got Milk?" to the bartender, who replies "Do I look like a dairy queen to you?" Given it's not capitalized here, and she says "a dairy queen" where as in the movie she says "the Dairy Queen" this might be another instance of writing around copyright, but it's hard to tell.

Dex pours himself some more milk, and over at the bar overhears Kaptain Krispy talking about how his chips got stomped earlier. (Geez, they're REALLY getting a lot of mileage out of this bag of chips being stomped, it's been mentioned like three or four times already) Dex makes a pun about getting shitfaced- one of the few more adult jokes that seems to have been kept in the novelization- and Krispy passes out into a bowl of his own chips, as Chapter 6 draws to a close.

So this chapter was a little longer, not hugely different to the movie but there were some interesting tidbits here and there. I just checked and there are a total of 24 chapters (and 125 pages) in this novelization as well so it makes sense a lot of these have been fairly short- that averages out at about 5 pages per chapter. Anyway, see you next time for Chapter 7!

[charmac]

Here's some more normal and sane behaviour:

In The Gang Buys a Roller Rink, their starting point is established as per the breakdown above, with Charlie holding the majority, but it's revealed in The Gang Sells Out that he's essentially bartered and sold his shares down to have a minimal stake in the bar (being, sadly, all his money went to buy their failing business of a bar and he now has to rely on the guys for most other things):

So if Charlie started with 86.4% and sold half to Mac (presumably first), Mac would at one point have held a near-majority at 49.2%, with Charlie holding 43.3% and Dennis with only 7.6%. If he then gave half to Dennis, that would bump Dennis up to 29.2% and Charlie down to 21.6%.

There's no real way to measure "a shitload", but I'll throw out 15% to Mac for half a sandwich (being a chunk of his remaining shares). Which would bump Mac up to 58.3% and Charlie down to 6.6%.

So, interestingly, by Season 3 Mac would have had a majority stake in the bar. Though, as we know from Season 1, the three of them used 'majority rule' for bar decisions, meaning either Mac received his majority sometime after Season 1 (most likely), or he could have vetoed the gay bar idea if he knew how to do math and had any business sense

However, none of their shares matter post-Season 3, since Charlie, as an owner, put 100% of the shares in the bar up as the Pri(d/z)e for the dance marathon in The Gang Dances Their Asses Off. The competition was won by a homeless man on behalf of Frank, so Frank ends up with 100% of the shares in Paddy's Pub by the end of Season 3.

It's then somewhat implied over the seasons that he's given at least some shares back to the guys, probably for the sake of liability and not out of care. Frank Retires finally gives us the breakdown of the current (2015) shares:

(With the remaining 3% being owned by "Franquito")

We just have to assume Frank split the 46% equally between the three of them, and Charlie has once again bartered and sold most of his shares away. Just for easier math we'll say it ends up with Charlie keeping 4%, and Mac and Dennis at 21% each. (BUT Dennis is technically Franquito, so Dennis actually holds 24% of the shares.)

I believe Frank Retires is the last time (chronologically) that ownership in Paddy's is mentioned. So Frank still owns a majority and the Gang are all stuck under his thumb, with Dennis holding more interest than Mac who holds more than Charlie (and Dee always having held 0%) but none of that mattering since they can never have a combined majority over Frank.

normal. normal and sane behaviour.

[kinfanfiction]

Charlie Eppes x Fem!Reader - Chapter 2 - 1 Year Later

A/n: More angst just not through the entire chapter! 

Listen- once I write too much fluff I have to prove that I can write angst too. THIS WILL HAVE FLUFF TOO I PROMISE!

Today I came to the realization VERY FAR INTO WRITING THIS CHAPTER that at CalSci THERE IS NO ENGLISH CLASS because it's an INSTITUTE OF SCIENCE and being an archivist would’ve made more sense, perhaps with the reader residing in the library, and now I must decide to either go back and edit the shit out of this or simply ✨ignore✨ this realization. I will post with just what I’ve written out so far and see what y’all think. Then, upon hearing your opinions I’ll decide what to do next.

The lesson learned is I need to do more research before making writing choices lmao.

Also, the reader in this fanfic has a fear of intimacy like me. 🤭 so slay!

     You woke up to your alarm at 5:30 AM. Early enough to prepare your lesson plan for your English Literature class. You assigned the reading of One Hundred Years of Solitude and arranged to host a socratic seminar with the class to discuss important elements in the novel. Soon after, you’d have them write an essay on it highlighting what it taught them about the importance of their friends and family. You had already prepared everything you needed for your Creative Writing lecture, so this was the last of your work for the time being. You sat at your desk for about an hour until you finally had everything you needed for your class. 

     You packed yourself a lunch, got yourself together, made sure you had your keys, your phone, and your wallet. You put your lunch in a cooled lunch box, made sure you had all necessary items in your purse, and then, with all your things together, you walked out to your car. You put your bags in the passenger seat, stuck your key in the ignition, and then drove to the CalSci campus. 

     You arrived at your office fairly early, put your lunch in you mini fridge, and almost immediately started writing out the date and lesson plans for each class on the blackboard. Once that was finished, your stomach rumbled and you realized that you’d forgotten to eat breakfast. Your first class didn’t start for a few more hours, so you knew you had more than enough time to run down to the dining hall and grab a bite to eat.

      Charlie sat in the cafeteria with a club sandwich, gazing around at the bright fluorescent lights that tended to overwhelm him, and you as well. He saw you as you reached the food bar and began serving yourself a slice of breakfast pizza and some caesar salad with a coke. It felt a little forbidden because you felt like pizza was a dinner food, but it was right there and you had to have it. Pizza is enjoyable at any hour of the day. Charlie grinned, and when you turned around he waved you over to his booth. You smiled back and began making your way over there. As you walked, a few students waved and said hi, and you returned the gesture, and eventually you made it to your seat across from Charlie, setting your plate on the table in front of you. “Good morning, Charlie.” You smiled at the familiar face. 

     “Good morning, Y/n.” He returned. “What brings you here so early?” 

     “Overcompensation for the amount of work I thought I had to do. I guess now I have the time to eat at my leisure and triple check my lesson plans.” You spoke optimistically with a brief chuckle. “What brings you here early?”

     He laughed, “Well, I think I did something similar. Though, before my alarm had a chance to blare loudly in my ear, I found myself waking up early with my mind already full of ideas. I wanted to add on to my already prepared plan some more specific and important details. Now I’m starting to realize those details are probably only important to me.” His laughter shifted to a more nervous tone as it trickled out into silence. 

     “Nonsense, anyone taking your class knows they signed up for the most thoughtful mathematics professor on campus. They have to have expected, and must welcome any extra information you’ve decided to add into your lessons. If they wanted less than that, they should've joined another class. You’re the best in your field, don’t hesitate to represent that to them.” You spoke in between bites, still careful not to talk with your mouth full. 

     He couldn’t help but light up again at your encouraging sentiment. “Thank you, I needed that.” He spoke softly. You didn’t respond, you just nodded, and then you both finished your food thinking quietly to yourselves. Once you were finished, the two of you got up to toss your leftover trash and you turned to him. “You got anymore time on your hands?” You questioned, and he grinned. 

     “Would you like to take a walk?” He suggested, as if he was reading your mind.

     “You know it.” 

     The two of you snuck around parts of the campus like a couple of delinquents, even though you were just professors terrified of interacting with your students outside of the classroom more than you already had that morning. Charlie knew the premises well, so he’d already calculated and memorized the best route to take in his head. “So, what about you? How are your classes going?” Charlie inquired as you walked by his side. 

     “Oh they’re going great! In my English Lit class my students have had many interesting things to say about 100 Years of Solitude so far. Their individual takes on the material is very intriguing. Then, in my Creative Writing class, I see so many students I can tell will one day become famous writers. I love nurturing their young minds and seeing them rise to their full potential.” You rambled on for a moment before just smiling softly, and Charlie did the same. He knew he tended to be the talkative one in your friendship, but when it came to you he loved to listen. You were a compassionate person that he deeply admired. To you, he was a brilliant man that you enjoyed learning from. Throughout your school years, you always hated your math classes until he explained the material. He brought light to it’s essence in the universe. You got him to enjoy his English classes by doing the same with that subject. 

     “I like seeing you. I feel like we don’t get enough moments like this because we work on opposite sides of the campus, and you don’t live next door anymore.” The young professor commented gently. 

     “I guess there has been a lot of lost time between us. We’ll make up for it though, I’m sure of that. I can visit more, maybe we’ll work on future lesson plans together?” You suggested, glancing over at him before focusing on the path ahead.

     “I’d like that.” He agreed.

     The first time you’d parted for a long period, you were thirteen. He had gotten far ahead of you in school, so he graduated early and got into Princeton. For the next three years you communicated through letters. You could’ve called, but you preferred to write him so you could annoy him by occasionally correcting his grammar and spelling. Technically, you could’ve skipped grades, graduated early, and gone to Princeton with him, your grades were just about as good as his, but you never wanted to graduate early. You didn’t even want to skip a grade. Besides, even if that was something you wanted, your parents couldn’t afford it. Still, you refused to let Charlie stay in middle school. He had a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you made sure he took it. 

     Over the three years Charlie was away, you missed a lot of major changes in each other’s lives. You got into your first relationship, which ended up leaving you scarred and afraid to try to date anyone new. You got in with the wrong crowd, who used you and made you feel horrible about yourself. In your junior year of high school, you decided to focus on your academic life and iced out everyone from school that had known you by going into running start. The only bit of socializing you accepted at that point was still talking to Charlie through your letters. You read all his published articles and you were absolutely fascinated by everything he had to say, even if you only understood half of it. 

     Charlie came back taller than you, which wasn’t surprising but it was a little frustrating. You used to make fun of him for being shorter, and now you were reaping what you’d sewn. His grammar wasn’t any better though, so you still had that. He’d also traded out his glasses for contacts, which you grieved dramatically. You loved how dorky he looked with his glasses. He seemed much more confident. You no longer recognized him as the awkward little boy who felt like his mind was too big for any room he entered, he now felt like he had an established his place in the world. You were so glad he finally found a community of likeminded individuals. 

     When he came back, Charlie noticed you had changed too. He saw that you seemed somber and more reserved. He remembered you once being an open book, you were bright and full of ideas just like him. He had his chance to expand his mind, but you had been shut down by your peers time and again. He knew there was something you weren’t telling him, but anytime he tried to ask if you were okay, you just shrugged and put on a brave face. Even if you refused to tell him what happened while he was away, he was still determined to remind you of the brilliant person you’d always been. He’d carry on to always wonder what exactly he’d missed, but he didn’t continue to ask. 

     He helped you through your running start classes, and before you knew it he was attending your graduation. 

     “I wish I’d gotten to attend your graduation.” You’d whispered to him later that day.

     “Don’t worry. My mom took pictures!” He’d smiled. 

     Then you both went to his house and looked through said pictures. Margaret had taken a plethora of those, so it really did feel like you’d been there.

     You and Charlie walked around campus talking more about your students, he began talking about one student that used a certain mathematical formula in an instant where he really shouldn’t have, and you once again had no idea what he was talking about, but you knew where the punchline was, so you laughed. Eventually you found yourselves staring closely at the flower buds on a nearby tree. Charlie of course dived into how, thanks to mathematics, he could predict an estimate of how long it would be until each bud bloomed into a flower. 

     You pointed to one specific bud that stood out from the rest, “What about this one? How long do you estimate it’ll take to bloom?” You questioned, and he leaned in close to look at the bud. The close proximity made you take a step back, and he noticed but didn’t say anything. Before he left for Princeton, you had no problem being close to him in any sense of the word. You hugged, tackled, and cuddled him constantly, you told him everything you thought and felt. Then, when he came back you would walk beside him, but you never even so much as hugged him, and you only told him surface level information about your life. That continued until his mom passed, and then, unless it was emotionally necessary, you went back to keeping him at arm’s length. He’d gotten used to that at this point.

     “This one shouldn’t take more than two weeks.” He observed after a moment of what you assumed was internal calculations.

     “Then we’ll come back here in two weeks.” You spoke decidedly. 

     He smirked and chuckled, turning his head to look at you as he did, “Do you doubt my estimate?” He responded as he returned to standing upright.

     You shook your head, “I know better than that. I just want to see your prediction come true. Besides, I love to see flowers bloom. It’s been a long Winter, I want to revel in Spring’s arrival with you.”

     He smiled softly, “That sounds like a good idea.” He agreed. 

[mcyt-peach]

that’s great! I’m the person who asked if u wrote for c!quackity :)

do u think u could write headcanons and/or a small dialogue section of c!quackity falling in love with the reader after his breakup with c!sapnap and c!karl?

(bonus points if the reader is dream’s little sister who’s a cute lamb and very king :0)

c!quackity falling in love with dream's lamb!sister

⋆｡˚ summary: Quackity never thought he'd open up again after the loves of his lives left, but here you come, proving him wrong

⋆｡˚ pairing: c!quackity x fem!reader

⋆｡˚ warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, mentions of abandonment

⋆｡˚ note: returning to my roots with a c!quackity piece I hope you enjoyed this piece b/c it was so fluffy <3

maybe creating a whole nation based on the intense need to feel control after a bad breakup was a bit dramatic, but Quackity always lived by the “go big or go home” rule

Las Nevadas had become home to an odd crew, a fox with daddy issues, a god... shark... person? and an alien with a penchant for mercenary work

which is why you’re such a breath of fresh air when you wander your way into town

for the first time since his fiancés ran off, Quackity feels that squeeze in his heart at your kind smile

you don’t belong here, if the ears on top of your head are any indication, a lamb hybrid like yourself belongs in some meadow somewhere, not this desert paradise for the disturbed

but here you were all the same, prancing along the streets and peering in at the shiny displays

he tried to stay away, he’ll swear it up and down, but there was something about you that drew Quackity in, despite his better judgement

but when you plop down at the counter when he’s on bar duty, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to talk to you (at least that’s the excuse he gives)

you tell him your life story over an extra sweet shirley temple, how your brother, who remains unnamed, kept you stuck in a faux meadow your whole life, afraid you’d be targeted

“Targeted? Why would anyone try and hurt such a sweet thing like you.” you blush at his words, because of course you do, and turn your eyes away from him

“Well, he said it was because of these,” your finger points to your hybrid features, “but I think he was just a bad person.”

your lip quivers at the thought and Quackity desperately wants to do whatever he can to get your smile back

he knows what you won’t say, your brother’s actions being too obvious to look past, but something about the way you smile shyly into your drink wipes away every thought that you could be working for Dream

“Tell you what, you stay here and I’ll make sure your brother doesn’t come looking for you, yeah?”

your shining eyes are enough to give him a heart attack and with that, you’ve become a resident of Las Nevadas

it should be obvious, but you get along with everyone perfectly, you share Charlie and Foolish’s sense of compassion and Fundy and Purpled help teach you to be proud of your hybrid side

but it’s Quackity you stick by most, after learning of his past on one of your many nightly chats

your heart breaks at the betrayal he went through and you make a silent promise to never make him worry that you’ll leave

not that you’d ever want to, with the way he picks you up from your shifts and walks you home, which soon becomes his home as well

you’ve fit yourself into his family and he finally, finally stops feeling alone