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irkimatsu · 6 months

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So I've got a request that may be odd but interesting. Reader/Husk where things start off with Husk being an Overlord and Reader a lowly sinner down on their luck, but after a long period of separation (things going sour, Alastor's doing, or whatever sounds best to you) they reunite and rekindle their relationship when Husk has lost everything and is working at the hotel, and Reader has risen the ranks to become an Overlord themselves. GN Reader is fine, thanks for your time!

Oh god help me I made this one angsty. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!

3.2k words (help), angst with a happy ending, SFW besides the usual swearing you expect from Hazbin fics. Reader finds Husk again after a decade apart, a tearful reunion is had, oh god help me

---

You stand in the middle of a grand ballroom, with a live band playing acoustic music and food and drink as far as the eye can see. Dozens of demons fill the hall, the most influential Sinners in the Pride Ring joined by their associates and servants.

It’s not the first time you’ve been to one of these gatherings, but it’s your first time here while on the other end of the leash.

You have to admit, it’s somewhat lonely here at the top. You’re not completely alone; like everyone else here, you’ve brought along your favorite contracted soul, who has just brought you a glass of champagne and earned a pat on his head for his troubles. But as you sip your drink, you can’t help but remember something with a smile.

He’d spit this out and ask where the scotch was…

It’s so strange not having his strong arm pinning you to his side. You can still see the charming expression on his face as he speaks with another Overlord, even as his tail waves as a warning to everyone who speaks to him. You know what that tail is saying without him needing to open his mouth.

“I’ll respect you if you respect me, but if you even think about trying anything with my pet, you’re dead.”

A lot of servants here are openly fearful or disdainful of their owners, but Overlord Husk never made you feel anything less than cared for. Sure, he had needs from you, but you enjoyed fulfilling those needs, especially knowing that he’d back down if you asked. He was cocky, spoiled, and reckless, but he adored you and always made sure to show it, both to you and to anyone who dared suspect that you were only a trophy he’d happily gamble away.

Then one day, he was just… gone. You woke up in his bed in the mansion like so many other mornings, and immediately you noticed that you couldn’t feel the faint bindings of his leash around your neck. You searched the mansion for him, but instead, you found Alastor reclining in Husk’s favorite lounge chair, sipping rye from one of Husk’s own glasses.

“Husker is no longer in need of your services, my dear. You’d best be on your way.”

He wouldn’t explain things any further than that, and you never heard from Husk again. What happened to him? Why would he just leave you like that, after years of calling you his most precious treasure…?

You need to shake those thoughts from your head before you have a breakdown in the middle of the party, so you join a nearby group of Overlords you can’t identify by name, intending to nod along and pretend to participate in their conversation. They appear to be discussing that rehabilitation hotel that Lucifer’s daughter started up. You continue sipping your drink and listening, hoping they don’t notice your silence.

“I still think it’s a foolish idea…”

“They did a wonderful job fighting off those exorcists, though. Imagine, we may never have to worry about another extermination thanks to that hotel!”

“Did you see any of the battle?”

“Oh, heavens, no, I never dare leave my shelter during an extermination, and I certainly don’t want to watch such a thing on TV!”

“Well, I caught some of it on the news, and would you believe, I could have sworn I saw the Gambling Demon fighting with the rest of Charlie’s crew!”

You try your damnedest to hide your shock at that news. At the very least, you manage to avoid dropping your glass.

“The Gambling Demon! Staying at Charlie’s hotel?! Surely you’re mistaken! And here I thought Alastor had him killed!”

“Oh, he looks different to be sure. He’s gotten a lot thinner, a lot scruffier. But how many tuxedo cats with giant wings do we have flying around in Hell? It had to have been him!”

“What do you suppose he’s doing in that place? Surely that old drunk doesn’t think Heaven would ever take him?”

“What kind of people does Heaven take, anyway…?”

As the discussion drifts away from the Gambling Demon, your attention drifts away from the discussion.

You’ll need to drop by that hotel sometime soon.

—

It takes you a few days to get away for long enough to stop by the hotel. Who knew Overlord business could be so exhausting? No wonder Husk needed your help with stress relief so often. But finally, after days of wondering, you find yourself standing outside the doors of the recently rebuilt Hazbin Hotel.

Surely it was all rumors, a cruel game of telephone meant to get your hopes up before harshly striking them down. You wouldn’t find him here. Not here, of all places. As far as you know, he’s dead.

But still, you have to know…

With a deep breath, you steel your nerves and push the door open. You’ve barely stepped into the lobby when a cheerful voice starts calling out to you.

“Oh! Hey there!” A group of demons are sitting in a circle of chairs, and all of them are now staring at you. Most of them are strangers, but you do recognize the one who’s enthusiastically waving at you as Princess Charlie herself.

You also recognize the winged cat who is currently staring at you with wide eyes and mouthing something inaudible. He’s much thinner, unhealthily so, and he doesn’t appear to be taking nearly as much care of his fur as he used to… but it can’t be anyone else, can it?

“You’re just in time!” Charlie says as she launches out of her seat and runs up to you. “We were just starting today’s trust exercise! Would you like to join us? It’s a perfect way to see what the Hazbin Hotel is all about!”

She’s speaking so quickly you can barely follow her.

“Oh, right, introductions! My name’s Charlie! What’s your name?”

You tell her your name, and she squeals with glee as she takes your hand. “Come on, come sit with us! Let me introduce you to everyone! This is Angel Dust, and Niffty, and Husk…”

You don’t remember any of the names she says after Husk’s. It really is him. The instant you lock eyes with him, you can’t look away. He’s frozen stiff, only the slight twitches of his tail showing that he hasn’t turned to stone.

“...and we have plenty of open rooms! What size bed do you like? Do you smoke? I know it’s hard to quit, and we’ll help you with that, but before then I can make sure you get a room with a balcony-”

“Charlie!” A girl with long white hair laughs and grabs Charlie’s hand to pull her back down into her seat. “Calm down! I think you’re freaking them out!”

“Sorry, Vaggie, sorry!” Charlie says. “It’s just always so exciting to see a new guest!”

“I don’t think it’s Charlie’s fault,” says the pink spider sitting on Charlie’s other side. “Seems like they just got distracted by our bartender. You like him, don’tcha? I know he’s cute, but don’t try pettin’ him, he bites.”

Husk must be stunned if he’s not reacting to a joke about his cat form. You’ve seen him punch other Overlords for that.

A bartender, though… that part doesn’t surprise you at all. But why here?

“Did you want to get a room set up first?” Charlie asks you. “I can help you pick one out, then we can come do the trust exercise! Oh, I can’t wait to get to know you!”

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” Husk says as he rises to his feet with a grunt.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Husk! I can-”

“I’m the concierge here, ain’t I? Takin’ people to their room is part of my job.”

“Normally you complain when we ask you to check people in,” Vaggie says.

Husk shrugs at Vaggie’s observation as he heads toward the hotel’s bar. He grabs a box from beneath the bar and shakes it. “So, what size bed? You want a balcony?”

“Um… king?” you say, not sure if it’s an option. “Balcony is fine.”

“Mmm…” he stirs the contents of the box around with his claws for a moment, then takes out a key card and reads it. “Right, here’s one. Fifth floor.” He puts the box back where he found it, then pulls out a book and a pencil. He flips through the book for a specific page, then scribbles something inside it.

He writes your full name perfectly, despite you not saying it directly to him.

Once that’s taken care of, the book also returns to where it came from. “C’mon.” He heads to the stairwell, and you follow.

What should you say to him? Should you say anything? Should you give him the first word? He doesn’t appear to be taking it as the two of you silently climb the stairs.

You reach the fifth floor, and your hotel room, without either of you saying a thing. “This is it.” He swipes the card and opens the door for you. “Look good?”

It’s a fully decorated room, with potted plants and wall art and a comfortable looking bed. It’s not entirely to your taste, but you can tell whoever designed it took great care with it.

“Don’t mind the art, you can replace that if you want. You might be staying for a while, so make it yours.”

“All right… thank you.”

Over a decade, and that’s all you can say to him?

You expect him to leave you to get settled in, but he keeps standing there, propping the door open. “Hey, uh… do I… know you, from somewhere?”

Your heart gives a single, heavy thud. “I think so… if you’re who I think you are.”

“Can I come in?” he asks. “Talk to you for a minute?”

“What about Charlie?” you ask.

“She’s patient,” is all he says before walking into the room. You follow him in and shut the door behind you. He’s standing in the middle of the room now, not looking at you. He seems to be at a loss of what to do with himself.

“...it’s really you,” he finally says, still facing away. “Before you said your name to Charlie, I thought… it couldn’t be…”

“Husk…” is all you can say. How long has it been since you’ve said that name? It feels so wonderful rolling off your tongue. At the sound of his name, he finally turns around to face you.

“...I missed hearing that…”

Your head is in conflict over what you should do now. Hug him and promise not to lose him again? Slap him and ask where the hell he’s been all this time? Break down crying, overwhelmed with thoughts of how you just spent the last ten years assuming he was dead?

“What happened…?” is all you can manage to say, without moving an inch.

His ears tilt down and he grumbles to himself as he grips his arms. “I didn’t want… didn’t mean… I’m sorry. He wouldn’t… I couldn’t…” he takes a deep breath. “...a lot’s happened since the last time I saw you.”

“Can you tell me about any of it?” you ask.

“Can we sit?” he asks in return. You nod in agreement, and the two of you sit on the edge of the hotel bed.

“How much do you know already?” Husk asks.

“Not much,” you say. “I went to sleep by your side one night, and then I never saw you again. That’s all.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” he continues.

“That you had a big meeting the next morning, but that I shouldn’t worry about it and you’d be home soon…” The gears start turning in your head. “What happened at that meeting…?”

“I lost,” Husk says. “I lost everything to Alastor. The money, the casinos, the mansion, the staff… even my own soul. A few bad hands, and that was it.”

You once again remember seeing Alastor that day, and your hand goes up to your throat. “Did you lose me to…?”

“I didn’t lose you to anyone!” Husk insists. “I promised I’d never bet your soul, didn’t I? I didn’t bet it then, either. He didn’t want me keeping you, said a pet didn’t need a pet of his own… but there was no fucking way I was letting him have you. Letting you go before he took everything from me was the best thing I could do for you.”

“And you couldn’t tell me?” Tears are welling in your eyes. Are you relieved? Angry? Where has he been?

“He wouldn’t let me!” Husk says, defensive. “Wouldn’t even let me near any of the property I used to own! I couldn’t tell anyone from those days what happened! He wanted everyone to think he’d killed me!” He needs a few breaths to calm himself down. You barely recognize your old Overlord in his current face; he looks so lost and tired. “Believe me, I didn’t just give up. I looked for you when I could, but I didn’t know where to begin, especially when I couldn’t even get into my own casinos anymore. If I had any idea where you were, I swear I would have found you…”

If he still doesn’t know where you’ve been, then clearly he forgot to check somewhere vital. “Have you been keeping an eye on the Overlords recently?”

“Like I want anything to do with that fucking group ever again,” he spits out. “I still hate how I lost everything, but I know it’s for the best that I got out of there with some dignity intact… wait.” He sits up and stares at you. “Is that where you’ve been?”

You smile and nod. He chuckles in response and leans back on his hands.

“Heh… should’ve known you’d find another Overlord to take care of you. I just hope they’re good to you… I may not be as powerful as I once was, but I’ll still kill anyone who tries messing with you. I ain’t breaking my promises to you, not even now.”

“Husk…” you say with a shake of your head. “I’m not on anyone’s leash anymore. Not since I lost you.”

“Eh?” He raises a large, red eyebrow. “Then what are you doing, hanging around with Overlords?”

“Well… I am one now,” you said. “After you left, I had to fend for myself. I started a business, made connections with the people you used to know, and now… here I am.”

“No shit… you as an Overlord,” he says. “Not surprised you managed to climb that high, if that’s what you wanted. I just hope you’re playing fair. Not like some of the other scumbags with that title.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’s including himself in “scumbags”.

“Of course I play fair,” you say. “I learned a lot from you. It’s ruthless work, but it doesn’t mean I have to mistreat people for it.”

“Good to hear,” he says. “Good to know some people down here don’t let power completely fuck ‘em up. What kinda souls you own?”

“I try to make fair deals,” you say. “Hiring people to work in factories, using contracts to protect company secrets, that sort of thing. I think my people are happy where they are. I try to make it less awful than it could be, at least.”

“Got any pets?” Husk continues.

“Pets…? Oh.” It takes a moment for you to catch his meaning. “No, no! I’m not interested in that sort of thing. Everyone just works for the company. No personal relationships.”

“Huh… shame. Having a pet is a lot of fun. Getting to spoil ‘em, seeing ‘em smile when you’re around… pissing off other Overlords who don’t understand why their souls hate them so damn much, but your pet can’t keep their paws off of you…” He sighs and closes his eyes. “It was nice, having you by my side. I regret a lot of shit from back then… but I don’t regret having you. …at least, as long as you don’t regret it. Was I good to you back then…?”

“You were amazing,” you assure him as you lean against him. “Amazing enough that… that I can’t see myself with a pet of my own. I don’t belong on that side of the leash… and I don’t belong on anyone else’s leash, either.”

“...you know I’m washed up,” he says. “I ain’t got shit left. No money, no influence, just a damn chain around my neck forcing’ me to do the bidding of a sadistic freak who thinks I’m an animal.”

“Husk…” You can’t help but hug him tight as you hear just what he’s been going through in your time apart.

“I can’t spoil you anymore. I can’t take you to parties, I can’t buy you expensive gifts… that shit’s over now. You’re staring at… well, you’re staring at a withered old husk.”

“Can you still sing to me?” you ask. “And dance with me? Perform tricks for me?”

“I… maybe?” he says. “I’m out of practice. Haven’t had a reason to do any of that for years.”

“But could you?” you repeat.

“I mean… I’d like to… I’ve missed it.” He smiles again, his eyes staring off into the distance. “I still remember how you’d smile when I sang your favorite love songs…”

“I always loved your voice,” you say. “I still remember what you sound like when you sing. I think about it sometimes…”

“Yeah?” he says. “...I think about it too. You smiling as I’d sing to you, and… and hold you…” You’ve been waiting ever since you leaned in, but finally, his arms are wrapped around you. “And tell you that… no matter how much I lost… I’d never lose you…”

You never saw Overlord Husk cry before. Such a prideful man surely couldn’t cry. But as he rests his chin atop your head, you can hear his breathing start to hitch.

“I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assure him as you nuzzle his neck, just the way he loved all those years ago. A purr assures you that it hasn’t changed.

“If I knew that day… that when I left, I wouldn’t be coming back… I would have stayed in just a little longer.” He rests his claw on your chin and tilts it up to look in your eyes. Now you can clearly see the tears pricking the corners of his own. “Would have at least kissed you goodbye…”

“You did kiss me goodbye,” you say. “That night, before we went to sleep, the last thing you did was kiss me…”

“...and I promised I’d be back,” he finishes. “I kissed you goodbye for a day. Not a decade.” His claws run down your face, just as gentle as ever. “Could I… do that now?”

“Don’t kiss me goodbye,” you say. “Just kiss me.”

He grants your wish, lightly placing his lips against yours. He finally lets his tears fall, but the way they stain your cheeks doesn’t make you pull away. If anything, they’re just another reminder for you that he’s here, along with his warmth in your arms and the sound of his soft moans vibrating against your lips as he keeps kissing you.

“Charlie…” you murmur. “Charlie’s waiting for us-”

“She’s patient,” he repeats as he pushes you down to the bed. “I’m sure she’ll understand me wanting some quiet time with an old friend.” He offers no further argument before resuming his kisses, and you have no further reason to protest.

“I love you, Husk,” you manage to whisper between kisses.

“I love you too, doll. Always have.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

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OH LORD MAMA TAKE THE WHEEL THISNIS MY LAST ONE.

imagine the boys just got back from a mission and when they enter the base, they found sweetheart cooking their country food for them. The taste is giving ✨SEASONED✨, its giving ✨you want me to marry you✨, its giving ✨that type of food that added 10 years to your life span✨, ITS GIVING ✨YOU DID A VERY GOOD JOB AND IM PROUD OF YOU✨

NOOOO NEVER STOP THESE I SWEAR YOU'RE JUST FINE 😍😍🫂🫂 these give me life you have no idea miss roro💕

(@missroro ROROOO GURL IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER😭😭 PLS FORGIVE ME I WAS SHADOWBANNED AND THEN OTHER ASKS KEPT POURING IN🧎‍♀️this is quite long, so hopefully you will take that as a sacrifice for my tardiness 🙏I hope you're doing well! I miss you LOTS 💓)

BUT UGHHH GOD

And the FACT that I already have a scenario that's kinda like this blows my mind 🤯🤯

When Sweetheart wasn't needed for this certain mission, she said "aight bet. I know yall are gonna be so damn tired and hungry so watch this WORK."

(Idk if you wanted Sweetheart to cook her home food, or cook their country meals, so imma do both 💀)

Her home-cooked food:

When Task Force 141 came back to the base they smelt that SEASONING IMMEDIATELY LIKE--

Gaz: Something just happened.

I know he's the FIRST to book it to the living room, and then he sees the PLETHORA

GRITS, SWEET YAMS, MAC AND CHEESE, CHICKEN, HAM, GREENS AND OX TAILS, CORNBREAD-- ALL THE GOOD SHIT YOU CAN THINK OOOFFF

Gaz squeals (LITERALLY SQUEALS) cause he's been wanting to taste her cooking.

(He's always asked about African-American cooking since he grew up with British cooking. Sweetheart told him the goodness and he's been hooked on it ever since)

Everyone else comes in and sees the table and they're just in shock

Like what the hell- how long did it take you to make all this?? I love you???

It felt so domestic, like coming home to a home cooked meal after getting off work and seeing your wife smile at you saying "welcome home, dear!"

Sweetheart is just beaming at them, saying "I know yall have been through hell, so have a lil' piece of heaven!" (She's so CHEESY) the mother in her comes thru, telling them to take showers and get situated first then come eat.

WHEN I TELL YOU THAT THEY B O O K E D IT TO THE MENS SHOWERS TO GET CLEAN-- GHOST PUSHED ALEX AND SOAP INTO A WALL SO HE CAN GET THERE FIRST (König and Price were already in there LOL they're witches I swear)

They were done so quickly Sweetheart had to check if some of them were actually clean

Sweetheart: Suds?

Soap, flushed: uhm, yeah?

Sweetheart, eyes squinting: Did you wash yo' ass?

Soap:

Soap: Yes...?

Sweetheart: GO GET CLEANED

Soap: BUT FOOD--

Sweetheart: G O

(Alex and Gaz low key laughing at him and Price is disgusted that Soap sometimes doesn't wash his ass)

They all finally sit down and they just enjoy the warm feeling in their chests while looking at the food. Sweetheart turns on some r&b music (is this a black 80s BET movie? MAYBE) and she walks to the edge of the table, eyes are filled with love and pride for her team. "Aight, I'm gonna keep this short and simple cause I know all yall are hungry and tired," she starts. The team sit on every word she says, as they always do. She smiles. "I'm glad you all made it back safely. Successful mission or not, I will always be proud of all of you. I love yall."

She's too good for them, man. Wtf

They all just fell in love with her more AHA

So she sits down and the chatter and clatter begins. They all moaned so much when they ate the food 💀💀

(They all went into a food coma and had the BEST SLEEP EVER)

(If she made everyone's food from their culture) (I put my whole ass into this wow)

When SAS and Los Vaqueros trudged through the hallway, they heard a clang and a yelping "Ow! Son of a-"

Price and Ghost look at each other before picking up the pace towards the kitchen. "Sweetheart? Are you -" Price freezes when he sees the kitchen filled with different types of food. " - Okay..."

"Oh fuck-- Hey! Yall are back already! That's wonderful." Sweetheart nervously laughs as she wipes her hands on her messy apron. The others start to come in, not expecting the different dishes on the counters. She squeals, "Nah uh! Don't come in here! Go and get cleaned now, all of you!" They stare at her for a bit until sprinting to the Men's Showers. Shouts and loud bangs from falling tact gear are heard, making Sweetheart chuckle and shake her head. Once the men came back to the kitchen, she was gone and so was the food. "In here!" She yelled. Soap made it first to the dining room and let out a big gasp. On the long, make-shift table sat a multitude of different foods and drinks each man recognized from their home country.

"Oh, mo leannan, this looks barry!" Soap exclaims.

"In English, Mactavish." Ghost mumbles, making Soap kiss his teeth. "This looks wonderful, St.! I'm- how did you--" Sweetheart shushes him, Soap still smiling ear to ear. "Don't ask questions! Just come sit down and get your plate."

They all grab a plate and utensils with rushed steps and big smiles.

- 𓆩♡𓆪 -

Price, Ghost, and Gaz sat at the end, where they all recognize the things to make Bangers and Mash. Shepherd's Pie and Fish and Chips could be found on all their plates with a side of Barm cakes. Their dishes melt in their mouths, dragon breathing at every bite since it was still hot. Ghost had a feeling in his chest that he felt extremely warm and overwhelming. He didn't think she would make something like this for him. "How're yall enjoying it?" She asks behind Price. "Umberweivable!" Gaz spouted out, a disbelief and amazed look on his face. Sweetheart laughs at him, "Hopefully, that meant unbelievable!" Gaz nods quickly with big food-filled cheeks. "Absolutely amazing, Princess." Price says after taking a swig of homemade Ginger Beer. "Haven't had Shepherd's Pie and Ginger Beer in so long. Good run down memory lane." Price smiles with soft and grateful eyes. Sweetheart snorts out a laugh and taps her cheek. Price raises an eyebrow until the embarrassment creeps in. He grabs his napkin and wipes the food that was stuck to his cheek. "I'm glad you like it, Cap! It was so hard finding an easy recipe for that damn beer." Sweetheart grumbles, looking at the kitchen with furrowed eyes and hand on Price's shoulder. He leans into her touch and sighs. "All in all, thank you." He murmurs, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on it. Sweetheart giggles, ignoring the heat coming from her hand. "You're very welcome!" She moves to Ghost, who has been quietly shoveling food in his mouth. "Hey Ghost! Are you--" Sweetheart stopped when he looked up at her. Eyes big with tears running down his flushed, stuffed cheeks. His eyes tick away from her changed face. "What...?" Simon whispers. She gives him a soft smile as one of her hands wipes off his tears. He didn't even notice the tears falling... "You enjoying the food?" She asks softly. Oh, that tone. That tone she uses only for Simon. He shivers, nodding his head slowly and then laying on her hip. She coos, wrapping her hand around his head while giving him head scratches to calm him down. You're alright, Simon. She's saying through her touch. Enjoy yourself.

Soap was practically vibrating in his chair when he saw a pitcher of Scottish Ale next to a big pot of Cullen Skink and an array of Scotch Pies with small Bacon Butties on the side. He did a double take when he saw a dish filled with Stovies and fried cut potatoes. Just how he ate it when he was younger. He lets out a disbelieved laugh as he reaches for it. "St.!" He calls out to her. She comes over with a worried look. "Wassup Suds? Everything okay?" He looks up at her with glassy eyes and a smile, nudging the Stovies. Sweetheart snickers, "I told you I would make it! I remember you tellin' me that your...màthair? Or-- mudder- damn I forgot how to say it-- but ya mom use to make this for you! So I looked up a recipe and may have added some of my extra spice to it." She explains as she whispers and laughs that last part. He can't believe that she remembers that. He told her that when he met her; telling her all the different Scottish cuisines. "I hope it tastes good..." She mumbles to herself. She cares. Soap grabs his spoon and collects some of the dish. She cares so much. Memories going through his mind when he chews it. She cares too much. "It's delicious." Soap whimpers out. Sweetheart smiles as she bends down to hug him. "I'm glad you like it."

Alejandro exclaims loudly when he takes a bite of his abundantly covered Elote. Rudy chuckles at him, taking another big ladel of Pancita and putting it in his bowl. "Hey guys, are you- WOW," Sweetheart yells. "You guys really ate almost everything! The Tamales and Flautas are gone..." Alejandro hums as he swallows. "So is the Ceviche and the Pipián." They both laugh at Sweetheart's surprised face. "Yall were hungry!!"And we still are, mama!" Alejandro snickers, taking more bites of his corn. "Mi flor, how did you make some of these dishes? And by yourself?" Rudy asks. He's so proud of her. He feels like he's back at home. "Oh, I had some help! Kinda-- some of the rookies helped me make the dishes! But then I kicked them out cause they were getting on my nerves." Sweetheart said, making the men laugh. "I knew you were a good cook. You would make a good wife someday, Sweetheart!" Alejandro shouted out as he smiled. Her shy laugh made him feel warm, but he wants his statement to come true.

König wanted to cry. He hasn't seen such a big pan of Tiroler Gröstl in a while. A basket of Kaiser Rolls is next to some Kasnocken and a pot full of Potato Gulasch. He scratches the brown hood he has on. Sweetheart made it for him so he could wear it when he's on base, since his other one was stinking up the joint. He watches Krueger take a big bite of his food and gulp down his drink that tastes like Almdudler. He's also wearing a hood that Sweetheart made for him; light blue fabric and handmade yellow stars scattered around it. It's scrunched up to his nose, his scarred lips still munching on his roll. He seems to be enjoying himself. König hasn't eaten with Krueger ever since they were kids. The impact on Krueger's actions in the past really changed everything for König and the family. But at least they're bonding in silence. "Hey, you two! Enjoying the food?" Sweetheart asks. Sweetheart. "Yes, meine kleine Göttin. It's very tasty." Krueger compliments her. She giggles, but it's cut short when Krueger grabs her arm and kisses her cheek. "Thank you for this wonderful feast, my love." He whispers in her ear with a smirk. Her mind goes blank for a moment, the heat of the kiss still searing on her brown skin. König grips his fork hard, turning his knuckles white. She sputters and then loudly laughs. "Yeah! No- no problem! I uh, König? How you uh, you enjoying the food?" He looks down at his plate, still quite full of food, yet not feeling like eating any of it anymore. König smiles with his eyes. "I am, Schatz. Thank you."

Horangi was enjoying himself to the fullest. Slurping down some Jajangmyeon with korean fried chicken and Kimchi fried rice with an egg. It reminds him so much of his mother's cooking, and when he didn't receive any Valentine's Day gifts so he would eat the noodles on Black Day. He blows on the noodles, the steam fogging up his black sunglasses. He wishes his past choices didn't bring him to this point. To be reminded of what he had, and now it's gone. He drank some of his soda, causing a big burp outta him. "You seem to be enjoying it, Horangi!" But without all his choices, he wouldn't have met her. He chuckles, covering his heavily scarred smile with his hand. Her warm hand snakes around his, gently pulling it down. She wants to see his smile. Her eyes sparkle at seeing his half-uncovered face. He's so pretty... "You like the noodles? M'sorry if I got the sauce wrong, I think I forgot some ingredients--" Horangi shakes his hand up. "No, no! It's perfect. The black bean sauce is amazing. I almost finished the whole pot." He's extremely impressed by her, but the cold feeling in his spine is wanting him to put the mask back on. Sweetheart squeals and claps, "Oh wonderful! I'm so glad you like it! By the way.." She leans down to hug his frozen form. "I hope to see your smile again. It's very pretty." She says. He is not grateful for his past choices, but he is grateful for her.

Alex and Roach enjoy their food in comfortable, happy silence. Alex hasn't had a decent cheeseburger since his leave. He dips a crinkle cut fry in ketchup, while Roach enjoys a big Maine Crab Roll. He's never tasted one before, but he always has, ever since Sweetheart gave him a postcard with the Roll on it, it's been his dream to taste one. "Yo, Alex! How's the burger?" Sweetheart asks, walking up to the both of them. Alex hums with a smile on his face. "You can't go wrong with a cheeseburger unless it's from a dirty bar." Sweetheart laughs, "Amen to that! And you're you doing, Gare Bear? Ya like the roll?" She asks sweetly. Roach can feel his face heat up from the nickname. He puts it down, finally taking breaths from horking it down non-stop, and putting two thumbs up. Her bright smile made both of them feel warm inside.

Graves sighs. His bones and joints hurt so damn bad. That mission with everyone was successful but it always costed some type of labor pain. He went to his dorm, already clean and changed into casual clothes. He could've sworn he heard laughing on the other side of the base... It didn't matter to him. All he wanted to do was to sleep off this pain. He notices a big plate covered in tin foil and a small note plus a coke-a-cola on his door mat. His eyes scan down the hall way with confused brows. Is he being pranked by one of his shadows? He better not be, he doesn't have the patience for it- Oh it's from Sweetheart. Wait- "What?" Graves mumbles, eyeing the messy note. The note reads:

Hey Graves. Congrats on the successful mission

Made you some dinner cause I'm pro proo pri PROU FUCK proud of you. That is the only time I'm gonna say that to you and it's not even in person. Doesn't matter, enjoy the food

Sweetheart ♡ (p.s. you still an asshole and NO I did NOT put laxatives in your food this time)

He huffs out a chuckle with a wobbly smile. So she does care for him. In a-- weird, hateful way. He walks in his dorm with food and drink in hand and opens the tin foil, the smell of barbecue baby back ribs, steamed carrots, buttered rolls and mashed potatoes fill his nostrils. His mouth waters immediately as he sits in his desk chair. He digs in with the utensils that Sweetheart gave him, his mind immediately going to his repeated fantasy about having a family with Sweetheart. Her, serving him a big plate of food with their baby boy on her hip. She kisses Graves's forehead and situates their son in the high chair before she starts to eat as well. A happy smile works on his face, not feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks. A happy family. "It's delicious..."

- 𓆩♡𓆪 -

After Dinner Bonus!

"Hey, no one go ANYWHERE! Yall are helping me clean all this shit up!" Sweetheart points out with a frown. Soap laughs, "Of course, hen! Why wouldn't we?"

"You did a lot for us, Princess. We'll take care of everything now. Go and take a load off." Price says close to her. Very close to her. "Nah, I can help!" Sweetheart pushed. "Your shoulder has been bothering you, hasn't it?" Ghost said, making Sweetheart flinch. "Why you gotta call me out like that, man?" Sweetheart whined. He was right, though. She's been rotating her left shoulder from time to time, playing it off every time one of the boys asked about it.

Alejandro laughs, placing his hand on her hip. His thumb doing small circles on her thin clothing. Rudy and Krueger strolled towards Sweetheart. Rudy wore a soft smile, yet his eyes told a different story. A more mischievous story. Alejandro's voice dropped an octave, making a hot jolt spike through Sweetheart's spine. "Come now, mama. I know just what to do to help you relax."

°.Reblogs are highly appreciated.! Thank you for your support everyone!!

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judethejudas · 2 years

Text

MW2 König x Male! Stripper! Reader Smut

König steps out of his comfort zone to meet an old friend at a club. But what happens when he decides to make a new friend there? In ways he couldn’t imagine.

(S/N) = stripper name

(F/C) = favorite color

WARNING: highly sexual themes, swearing, size difference, cis male reader described.

MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI

Dear god. Did he really have to do this?

König stood completely still as he stared up at the red neon sign above him, which read ‘Dante’s Inferno’.

A strip club. A rather diverse one to be exact since the strippers consisted of both women and men.

“Schieße.. I can’t go in there..” The Austrian was too shy to push himself to go in. He’s never been in such a place but his childhood friend, his only friend, had invited him to catch up on old times since it’s been so long.

But.. there were naked men and women in there. He wouldn’t be able to get a single word out if he went in! Oh how his anxiety crippled him.

He couldn’t disappoint his friend though. Not when he was the only one he felt safe with during his childhood. The least he could do was just go in and talk over a drink, right?

König took a deep breath, and vanquished his fear for a moment to walk inside the club.

After paying the fee, he was fully allowed inside and he was able to see just what he was getting himself into.

Women and men, scantily dressed, walked with such a sway of their bodies it was crumbling the beast of a man.

He hated being so tall sometimes. It meant he was always the centre of attraction, even in a place like this.

Both patrons and the strippers would look over at the hulking mass at the doorway, shocked at how tall he was.

König sheepishly walked at a brisk pace to the table where his friend was seated, ignoring the stares of everybody as he passed by.

“My friend! It is so good to see you again, so good!” His friend stepped out of the booth to give him a hug and König let out a quick sigh of relief. He was so happy he wasn’t alone.

“Very good to see you too.” He mumbled out as they both took their seats. The two chatted about their lives, their childhoods together, what they were doing now and whatnot.

König refused to look at any stripper that walked by them or was performing on that stage.

“Still as shy as ever, yeah?” His friend chuckled, giving him a pat on his back.

König chuckled too, just more quietly and almost sounding embarrassed. Oh, he was embarrassed. The pink tint on his cheeks and ears proved it.

“I don’t get out much, more of a workaholic if anything.”

“Oh? Then we need to change that..”

The Austrian man did not like the way he said that.

He felt his heart racing as his friend motioned for one of the strippers to come over.

Oh no.

“I-I, now there’s no need please, I’m fine right here..!”

“Nonsense! This’ll be good for you, I promise!”

A man was coming over, dressed in (f/c) short briefs and adorned with jewelry and harnesses on his legs.

König avoided eye contact when you took a seat next to him.

“Can I help you, boys?” You sat so close to the poor man his thigh was trembling a bit. He could feel your arm and your leg pressed up to his own. This was quite a lot of physical contact for a man like himself.

“Yes. My friend König here would love your services, perhaps in the VIP room?”

“Of course. Come along, darling. I’ll show you the way..” You smiled and took his hand in your own, leaving the booth and heading to the back rooms where the private dances were held.

“My name is (s/n), if you were curious about that.”

König tried to say something after you told him your fake name, but he was at a loss for words and was unable to speak. He could only look downwards to the floor to avoid showing his intense blush.

He could hear the different music in this new part of the building and small, separate rooms, people were receiving lap dances.

König immediately turned his gaze away from them and focused on you, well, your backside at least. And even that made him look away again.

“Okay, love, here we are. Now you just sit there and make yourself comfortable.” You said with a lilt in your voice, leading him to the leather chair and gently pushing him down to make him sit.

König still didn’t look at you when he was sat, but you could clearly see the cute redness on his face.

“You’re awfully shy for such a big man.. Do I make you nervous, hun?” Your fingers pet his cheek and you turned his face so you could look at him directly. The panic in this man’s eyes was so clear to you.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No no, I..” He finally spoke but couldn’t finish as he was getting flushed again, staring at your nearly exposed body from top to bottom.

“Is this your first time?” You asked as you sat in his lap, making him stiffen and immediately look to the side. His eyes were wide and he bit his tongue, trying to stifle a stutter he knew was coming on.

You leaned in, your hand was stroking his torso muscles through his black shirt and up to his shoulder.

“I’ll be slow and gentle with you. I promise.” You whispered in his ear.

He nearly moaned when he felt a soft pair of lips kissing his jawline and throat. Never had he been kissed like this before. He actually couldn’t even recall a genuine kiss at the moment.

You knew how touch starved he was as soon as his breathing picked up.

Your dance had just started and König was already trembling in his seat.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You gently commanded and he obeyed, his eyes now turned from the wall to you.

Your body was sat up in his lap and your hands caressed your chest and your sides, giving him a half lidded horny stare. You unlatched the harness from your legs and tossed it aside, even playing with the edge of your briefs.

König couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to at that moment. You were so gorgeous and knew exactly what to do with yourself. It was hypnotic.

He nearly whined when you got off his lap and stood up in front of him.

“You’re so hot, König. So fucking cute.” You breathed out as you did your dance, slowly and sensually just for him. He shuddered at the way you said his name and you smirked. He saw your ass when you bent down and how your fingers teasingly pulled your briefs down a little, before pulling them back up and giving your ass a slap and a wiggle.

After a few minutes, you got back into his lap for the more touchier dance.

The part of your routine that involved grinding against his crotch with your own was enough to break him.

He groaned, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and coiled in shame. He knew hardly anything of strip clubs but he did know it was not customary to be so loud.

Now this just won’t do, you thought.

You took his hand away and placed it on your hip, grabbing his other hand too and holding it against your chest. König was unsure of what to do but he was thankful you were taking the lead, even if it was embarrassing for him.

“It’s alright, you can be as loud as you want with me.”

Then you started moving against him again.

König sucked in a harsh breath and gripped onto your hip, careful as to not hurt you since he was very aware of his strength.

His gentility and obvious shyness is what you loved about him so far. He was different than the usual patrons. Sure you’ve gotten some shy ones before but this one?

You were convinced he was a virgin. Or at least had sex just once and not since.

Why were you so convinced? Well, the man you were grinding against was getting quite the hard on. And you felt it bulging against you.

König blushed and apologized to you profusely, to which you hushed him immediately. It wasn’t the first time a man was hard because of you, nothing to be ashamed about. You only leaned in close so that your lips were only inches apart from his.

“Do you want to fuck me, König..?”

The Austrian stared at you with shock, trying to find the right words without sounding like a fool. He had never been asked that before, at least not like this. Being bullied nearly all his life, his self confidence was very low and he never would have expected to have someone as beautiful as you on top of him.

“Ah.. yes.. I do..”

You smiled as your hand came up to touch his cheek gently, making him instantly lean into the warmth.

“Can I kiss you?”

There was a question he could answer easily. With a nod, almost an eager one.

You connected your lips to his as soon as he gave you the okay. His were rough in comparison to yours but it fit so sweetly. You also noticed he wasn’t the greatest kisser due to his inexperience, you liked it though. Your eyes and his closed while you both found a comfortable rhythm with your lips.

What a quick learner he was.

You started grinding against him again and he moaned into the kiss, which allowed you to slip your tongue into his mouth.

His eyes were wide open now when he felt your tongue against his. He kissed someone only once before, in high school when a girl was dared to kiss him but it didn’t feel real at all. It felt like a joke, just someone for all the kids to laugh at. And there was certainly no tongue when he got kissed.

No, it felt like you genuinely wanted him.

You cock was beginning to harden as well and König felt it. If he had any doubts that you wanted him then they were quickly vanquished when he felt your bulge on his.

“Mmh, König..” You moaned out and started kissing his throat, giving it gentle sucks and licks. You didn’t want to rush him since he was most likely new to all this. The little grunts and groans he let out told you so.

Your hands came up to stroke his body through the fitted shirt he wore while his hands groped your hips. He went in for another kiss, now instantly addicted to the way your lips felt on his. Kissing was now his favorite thing.

You two stayed like that for a while. Kissing each other passionately and moving your crotch against his back and forth. He felt huge through his pants. You guessed around 10 inches and very thick.

“Fuck.. liebling.. I don’t think I can wait anymore..” He said after he broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling heavily. You saw the shyness in his eyes still, but the horniness that accompanied it was much stronger.

You smiled and got off his lap to kneel down in front of him, spreading his legs apart with your hands. His bulge was very large and pressing against the fabric of his pants. Poor baby, how uncomfortable he must be feeling right now.

The taller man froze when he saw you unzipping his pants with your teeth, staring up at him with a lustful gaze.

To him, you looked so angelic, despite the actions being so sinful.

His boxers were pulled down and his hard cock immediately stood at full attention. You were shocked at the size of him. He must have been 12 inches instead of 10 like you thought. It was veiny, and already leaking pre cum.

How this man kept the monster behind bars? You had no clue.

You cast aside your thoughts and went to work. Your lips closed around his swollen, red tip and gave it a swirl of your tongue— focusing on the underside. This man deserved some good head and it’s the least you could do, for now.

The man groaned and stopped himself from bucking his hips into your mouth. How horrible it would be if he accidentally made you choke. You personally wouldn’t have minded if he did but he had anxiety about it.

You started taking more of him into your mouth, comfortably fitting 5 inches without pushing too far. Your personal record was 8 inches but the ones you’ve had before were less thicker and longer than König.

Your head bobbed up and down on him at a moderate pace.

“Fuck.. oh fuck.. yes, just like that..” The man above you panted and leaned his head back. He truly felt like a king now, just as his name meant. Every time you found his sweet spot he would shut his eyes tight and feel a shiver coursing through his body.

It was only when you swallowed a few more inches of his cock that he snapped his eyes open and looked down at you, surprised you could take more.

Your gag reflex was long gone since coming into this business. While you weren’t a prostitute, you did find a few men attractive that you’d end up fucking them either in or out of the club. And had plenty of practice in blowjobs.

König couldn’t take it anymore. It was so sudden when he came down your throat that your eyes widened in surprise. Thankfully you suppressed the urge to cough and let his warm cum spurt down.

When he finally finished, you took your mouth off him.

“I’m.. so very sorry.. I should have said something.” He said as he was trying to catch his breath, looking like a guilty puppy.

“Don’t be sorry, I liked it.” You giggled a little and stood up to your feet. It was time for something a little more intimate that both of you could enjoy.

You got back into his lap and took his hand in yours, taking his middle and pointer finger and began sucking on them.

König felt his dick twitch when he felt your tongue in between his fingers. Your saliva coated them generously and he was starting to like the fact he was so big in comparison to you.

When you felt it was enough, you took his fingers out of your mouth and guided them to your ass. He caught on quickly and prodded his pointer at your hole.

Your lips parted into a shuddered moan before helping him push the finger inside you, the other following suit immediately.

It didn’t take you long to start riding his digits to stretch you out. And boy, did his fingers do the job.

“Fuck.. mmh… König~” You dragged his name out in a moan as you felt his fingers curl inside you. He was more confident than before and start fingering you himself after a minute or two.

His lips captured yours in a kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You would let out a series of grunts and moans against his mouth when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot within you. Hell, you could cum just from his hands alone without even touching your cock.

But you wanted more.

You abruptly took his fingers out and pulled away from the kiss, and König suddenly worried he had displeased you.

You saw the look on his face and moved closer to him, both your cocks now rubbing against each other.

“I want you so bad, König. I want to feel you inside me. I can’t wait anymore..” You begged him softly.

The Austrian man was relieved to hear you didn’t want to stop, but he did worry about how he would fit inside you.

You took the lead and leaned upwards, grabbing his cock and putting it towards your ass. It would be quite the stretch but you could take it.

His tip entered you first and you gasped, slowly sinking onto him. His cum being a lubricant did help, but it was still a little painful.

König groaned and held you by your waist, making sure you weren’t entirely speared on his dick. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. You knew your limits though and made sure to take it easy.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to bounce up and down— slowly.

You figured riding him would be the easiest position to do considering his massive body. It was like being on top of a giant.

“God, liebling. You feel so good inside..” He groaned. “So warm and tight.”

You whimpered as more of his dick filled you up and you laid your forehead on his shoulder. You were fully bottomed out and it was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure you were feeling. It only encouraged you to ride him at a quicker pace.

The two of you exchanged filthy, desperate noises. König’s confidence was building and he even started groping you from the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock while you bounced on him.

Thank god the VIP room you two were in was at the every end of the hall. There was no reason for anyone to barge in and the music covered yours and his sounds well enough.

You felt his lips sloppily giving you kisses on your neck and collarbone, even sucking just as you did before. His mind was hazy and all he could think about was making you feel good.

König decided to be brave and take over.

He turned himself to the side and laid you down on the leather seat, now fucking you in a missionary position. He was able to go deeper inside this way and hit your prostate each time. He had also discarded his shirt as it was getting much too hot for unnecessary clothing.

There was no time to admire his body. All you could see were the few scars he had and his defined muscles.

You squealed as he started thrusting into you hard. Your legs coming up to latch around his waist.

“Please let me take you home, schatz. We can fuck like this all night..!” He grunted. One hand gripped the couch next to your head and the other held your hip in place. “I don’t want to stop here, not when you make me feel like this.. like I’ll go insane without you.”

His words excited you, but he was pounding into you so hard you couldn’t form a sentence— or even say yes. And oh how you wanted to scream yes.

You gasped when you felt his hand leaving your hip and taking hold of your cock, pumping it up and down quickly to the pace of his thrusts.

You felt like you would go insane without him too. The way his body enveloped yours and made you feel so incredible, so sex crazed and desperate for more of his touch.

Beads of sweat dropped from König’s forehead and onto your stomach. He was getting close to release again and hoped you were too.

Wanting to be closer, he leaned down and held you by your waist— before easily lifting you up and fucking you against his bare, sweaty chest. One hand held you by your ass and the other still on your waist.

You snaked your arms over his shoulders and held him tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

“Make me yours, König.. ” Your voice was hardly above a whisper.

The larger man groaned loudly when he heard you and buried himself deep inside, letting his cock fill you with cum.

That was enough to send you over the edge.

Your cock painted his chest as well as your own with cum, letting out a silent gasp and shuddering hard. This had to be the hardest you ever came in your life and you nearly lost consciousness.

Exhausted and well spent, König sat back down with you still on top of him. Both of you trying to catch your breath while stuck in a warm embrace.

Now he had to come up with a good excuse to leave his friend a little earlier than expected.

And you needed to ditch work.

________________

I can’t even begin to describe how appalled I was to find zero male readers for König. APPALLED. I LOVE this man.

Also please let me know if there’s specific parts I goofed on, like spelling errors and whatnot because I was in a rush to make this.

#cod #mw2 #könig #könig mw2 #könig x male reader #könig x male! reader #mw2 könig #cod könig

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charryflavoredblood · 6 months

Text

Far too gone to get out, Far too sane to disappear.

I wrote this for my lovely friend, Maki (@dazai-ritualist) and her yandere Alastor au which I swear is my favorite thing ever. She's literally the sweetest thing ever and if you like yandere Alastor, you will be in heavan. Please please follow and read the series. I swear you won't regret it!!!

"I find that the harder you seem to grip, the more you seem to drop, my love."

Alastor had been quiet the past few days. That was…never good. If he was quiet, it meant he needed to be in deep thought…and if he needed to be in deep thought, you were royally fucked.

Today had been no different. You had woken up late, You went down to the kitchen, where your son and Alastor sit in the wooden breakfast nook that you and Alastor had built together before…all of this.

Everything was normal…

That was bad.

“Mama! Hi! Good morning! Papa-” Noah gets up to run over to you like he always would when he woke up before you in the hotel…you smile fondly. It was almost like you were back home…almost like you were normal.

“Alright, Dear. Let’s let mama wake up now, shall we?”

But of course, Alastor just had to crush that. You frown and walk towards your cabinets…the beautiful light green ones you had once taken such care of before…this.

Your husband hands you a cup of coffee, smiling soft enough to not alert Noah but with far too much of an edge to be sweet.

You almost turn as green as your cabinets and throw up. You don’t, though. Not in front of Noah. You’d seen parents argue and you wouldn’t let your son go through that.

Part of you knew it wasn’t arguing, it was survival but that part had long since been silenced.

“The station is having a late start today…something about the end of lent or something to that effect. Never-the-matter, it gave me time to cook this morning. I haven’t had time to cook for him yet.” Alastor gestured to Noah, to which your little boy beamed, just like you had when your marriage had been friendly…platonic…perfect.

Oh how you longed for the days where you’d leave each other alone. Where your house was safe. Where you could do whatever you so wished. Where you could not only not be afraid but also joyful. Where you could be happy.

Because you weren’t happy. Not anymore. From what you’ve read, you were very clearly struggling with depression. However, you knew that seeing a shrink wasn’t an option for you.

Yeah, no. You weren’t going to give Alastor the chance to say “Mama’s not crazy, my dear, don’t listen to the people down the street…She’s just a little unwell in the head right now. Now smile, she wouldn’t want to see you sad.” To your son. That was not fucking happening.

Alastor looked at you, smiling like the sick, sadistic monster he was.You were stuck. He knew that. He knew that you were in your own head more so than you should, especially when Noah was at school.

He knew you didn’t have anything to keep yourself busy with, hell, he basked in that fact. The fact that you were slowly losing all drive to fight and just accept this was like music to his ears.

You were running out of people to talk to. Running out of neighbors to ask for sugar when you very clearly had a perfectly fine bag in your cupboard.

You were running out of sanity.

Day-by-day, you were slowly becoming more-and-more malleable, more-and-more agreeable, more-and-more lonely, more-and-more unstable.

You were becoming what he wanted.

And may god or whatever else is out there help you find a way out before it was too late.

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere alastor #gift #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x fem reader #i walked into this with no plan #literal improv #god my teacher would be proud.#loving myself #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor the radio demon #love u more maki #k bye #dont die #not cute #dying isn't cute #dontdiecore

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the-record · 1 year

Text

bad idea right?

synopsis: abby ruined your relationship, so when she happens to be going to the same party, you should stear clear right?

pairing: soccer!abby x reader

warnings: none???

a/n: i was gonna make this like a “sad” ending but i cant do it for the life of me. also not my best work but i needed to get smthn out

my masterlist

Haven't heard from you in a couple of months But I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up And you're callin' my phone and you're all alone And I'm sensing some undertone And I'm right here with all my friends But you're sending me your new address And I know we're done, I know we're through But, God, when I look at you

“uhm, angel? who’s ‘loser not worth mentioning’?” ellie asks as shes tosses your phone on the bed next to you.

dina laughs as you groan, silencing the call again. “that is angel’s ex my dear.” dina says as she pulls clothes from her closet. “very messy breakup.”

“and she’s borderline obsessed with me.” you watch as the call ends before getting up to finish getting ready. “you know that tall blonde girl on the soccer team?” ellie gasps, punching your shoulder.

“no way.”

“way.”

ellie laughed, falling back onto your bed. “oh tonight is gonna be interesting.”

you sat up, looking at her. “what do you mean?”

“abby’s going tonight.”

dina squealed, grabbing your hands. “oh, you’re getting dressed up. you have to show her what shes missing.”

you felt your phone buzz as dina turned back to find your something to wear.

abby: baby please just pick up

abby: youre going to the party tn right?? come find me we need to talk

abby: im not gonna give up.

My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts) Like blah-blah-blah (Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah) Should probably not I should probably, probably not I should probably, probably not

“so i shouldn’t meet up with abby tonight, right?” ellie peaked over your shoulder to read the texts, laughing quietly.

“angel do not meet up with abby tonight.” dina told you over her shoulder. “i do not need you disappearing to her bed.” she threw an outfit at you before heading to her bathroom to change.

you knew she was right.

abby was just trying to fuck and you should stay far away. she didn’t care about your feelings and she had made that obvious. you should just steer clear.

angel: we’ll see.

angel: just, wait till im away from my friends.

abby: no promises

angel: abby.

abby: see u there ;)

“you’re right.” you set your phone to the side, standing to try on the clothes dina gave you.

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right? Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right? Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right? Seeing you tonight Fuck it, it's fine

angel: this is a bad idea.

abby: just go with it babe

abby: i wanna see you

abby: i want to talk.

angel: fuxk

abby: see u soon

“guys,” you yelled over the music. “i’m gonna go get a drink. text me if you need me!”

dina and ellie nodded, smiling before dancing again. you rolled your eyes, heading to find abby. she’d said to meet her in the backyard, there was a door by the kitchen.

“angel!” you tensed as you poured a drink, turning to see abby heading your way. she placed a hand on your hip, smiling. “hey, i was just about to come find you.”

you smiled back, grabbing your cup and heading out leaving abby to follow you. she took a seat beside you on the swing, putting her arm around you.

you cleared your throat, setting down your cup and turning to face her.

even if she had fucked you over, you couldnt deny how perfect she was.

freckles lining her cheekbones. pretty eyelashes that you could only dream for. lips you loved to kiss. the prettiest blue eye’s you’d ever seen.

“it’s rude to stare you know…” she whispered as she rubbed her thumb on your knee. “if you want to kiss me just say that.” she joked.

“i want to kiss you.”

Yes, I know that he's my ex But can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend The biggest lie I ever said Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex But can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend I just tripped and fell into his bed

dina: angel where r u

dina: angel??

ellie: whered u go?? we cant find u

dina: i dont want to leave u here alone

ellie: can u respond pls

you pulled away from abby as your phone buzzed repeatedly. she chased your lips, making you smile.

“fuck,” you whispered as you read the texts.

angel: hi sorry

dina: babe where are you???

angel: im okay, with a friend from class

ellie: we are heading out, u want a ride?

dina: ^^

angel: im good thank you though

angel: having fun :)

dina: okay… be safe my love

dina: call me if u need me and get home safe

ellie: dont be stupid

angel: i will promise

angel: choke ellie

dina: i will 😁😁😁

angel: GAG

you tucked your phone back into a pocket before facing abby again. “so, where were we?”

“you wanna come to mine?”

Now I'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans I know I should stop, but I can't And I told my friends I was asleep But I never said where or in whose sheets And I pull up to your place on the second floor And you're standing, smiling at the door And I'm sure I've seen much hotter men But I really can't remember when

angel: kms

angel: im so increbibku hungiver

angel: can i gey a ride pls!

dina: bye 😭

ellie: one night stand angel?!?!?!!

angel: whaaaaaaaaaaaaa

dina: send me ur location

angel: …

dina: what.

angel: …can ellie pick me up………….

ellie: whatd u do.

angel: just pelase?

angel: please im begging

ellie: fine

“not telling your friends about me angel?” abby rasped as she wrapped an arm around your waist. you set down your phone and faced her. “good morning.”

“hmm, i missed this.” you confessed as you kissed her. “but ive got work in a couple hours. ellie’s on her way.”

abby groaned and pulled you close to her. “i dont want this to be just a one night stand, angel. i really do like you.”

you leaned back to look her in the face. “we’ll see.” you pecked her lips with a smile. “for now, ellie wont be here for another half hour…”

“so,” ellie clears her throat as you get in the passenger seat. “abby anderson then.”

you ignored her as she pulled out of her parking spot. “what’d you and dina do last night?”

“i think i could ask you the same thing about abby?”

you sighed and turned to face her. “promise you wont tell dina?” she hummed but you still weren’t sure. “promise me.”

“fine, i promise.” she groaned, stopping at the red light. “now seriously, what happened to ignoring her?”

“okay, well shes very convincing. and i figured its be good to talk, clear the air?” you sat back in your seat. “but then we got alone and i just missed her. and so she kissed me, and we headed back to her place, and…”

“gross.” ellie shivered, she looked to you for a second as she drove. “look, we just don’t want you to get hurt. i know im still new and we dont know eachother like you and dina, but i care about you.” she smiled softly. “and dina will actually kill abby if she does something. i love her but shes crazy.”

you both laughed before sitting in silence. you turned to music up to drown the peace as ellie drove. as she turned into her parking space you spoke.

“i think its gonna be different this time.”

“yeah?” she unbuckled and looked at you as you nodded. “whatever you say angel.”

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right? Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right? Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right? Seeing you tonight Fuck it, it's fine

abby: come over tn??

angel: i wish :/

angel: class at 7 and then going to els art show

abby: ugh

abby: what ab tmr what are you doing

angel: nothing i think

abby: angel, would you do me the great pleasure and go on a date with me tomorrow?

angel: a date?

abby: only if u want

abby: if this is just hooking up fine

abby: but i really like you angel.

angel: what time??

abby: mmm 130? ive got practice tmr morning

angel: sounds like a plan :))

abby: oh thank GOD

angel: real.

——————

dina: can we go see barbie tmr

ellie: no.

angel: sorry dina

ellie: nvm YES DINA LETS GOOOOO

dina: hello??

ellie: yep barbie tmr!

angel: i can’t tomorrow

dina: whaaaaaaaaaaat why

dina: what other friends r u hidjng from me.

angel: ive got a date…

dina: HELLLOOOOOOOO?!?!?!??!??????

ellie: 😧😧😧

ellie: since uh WHEN?

angel: since like 10 min ago

dina: OMG WHO?!??!

ellie: !!!!!!!!

angel: ur moms 🩷

dina: fuck u.

ellie: yea fuxk u. my moms DEAD

angel: this isnt THERAPY

ellie: ur gonna need some after this date

dina: damn okay.

angel: GASP.

angel: WHORE

ellie: BITCH

dina: wow.

dina: both of u calm down right now

dina: jesus

angel: sorry mom

ellie: sorry babe

dina: mhm. okay angel have fun on ur date tmr

dina: be safe and text me ab it

dina: ellie ur seeing barbie with me

ellie: CAN WE ATLWAST SEE OPPENHEIMER TOO?!?!!?????!

dina: no

ellie: LORD PUT ME OUTBLF MY MISERY

angel: ellie secretly wanted to take u out to barbie but was too scared to ask

ellie: DIE??????

ellie: can u maybe not

angel: ??

ellie: a date?? isnt that kinda a lot

angel: no why? i told u i really liked her

ellie: didnt she fuck u over like 4 months ago

angel: omg shut up

angel: it’s different okay

ellie: yea? how so.

angel: we were both in bad spots then, we just needed time

ellie: time to have a ton of sex with other girls??? OH WAIF u said WE mb

angel: bye whats ur issue

ellie: my issue is that ur blindly trusting her

ellie: i dont want u to get hurt

angel: dw els im fine okay

angel: ive gotta get ready

angel: ill let u and dina know jf smthn happens.

ellie: whatever

you heard a knock at your door and set down your phone, heading to open it.

when you did, abby stood in front of you with a smile and flowers. you pulled her inside, closing the door behind you and wrapped your arms around her neck.

“hi.” she whispered.

“hey.” one of your hands cupped abby’s cheek as you kissed her softly. “missed you.”

“i know, youre so obsessed with me.” she teased, grabbing your waist.

you smacked her chest and scoffed. “excuse me? didn’t you call and text me for weeks after we broke up?”

“couldnt help myself.”

you pushed away from her, going back to your room to grab your stuff. “you’re such a dork.” grabbing your wallet and shoving on your shoes, you headed back out to abby. “ready to go?”

Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex Can't two people reconnect? The biggest lie I ever said I just tripped and fell into his bed My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts The biggest lie I ever said My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts I just tripped and fell into his bed

angel: confession.

dina: welcome my child

ellie: this’ll be fun!!

dina: shhhh

angel: so remember that date???

dina: YES HOW WAS JT

angel: good good

angel: but uhm

ellie: here we go

dina: ???

angel: it was with …abby anderson…

dina: GOODBYE.

angel: BABY WAIIIIIIT

ellie: rip abby

angel: ELLIE SHHT UP

dina: ARE YOU STUPID??!?!

ellie: yes.

angel: yea

angel: HUT LIKE HEARG ME OHT PLWASE?$?/&?/:$2&!/@/!9/$:9

angel: she was really sweet and apologized for everything and i just like had to yk

dina: had to?? girl

ellie: girl… damn

angel: dina babyyyyyyyyy

ellie: making popcorn who wants some

dina: ellie istg

ellie: im sorry

angel: dina i promise its gonna be different this time

dina: yk j don’t believe that but whatever

dina: do what u want

ellie: dina cmon

dina: what

ellie: can u just support angel?? its not like this was a necessarily easy thing

dina: i support angel, i dont support abby

angel: i know but can you please just give her a chance

angel: i wanna make this work ans so does she

angel: bht i want ur support bc i love u and it mwans a lot to me

dina: …

ellie: dinaaaaaaaaa

ellie: ill get takeout tn

dina: fullly supporting u two!!!!!!!

angel: goodbye 😭

—————

abby: hey

angel: hi

abby: im bored

angel: wanna come to movie night??

abby: ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

abby: IS THAT A QUESTION?

angel: yea?

abby: yes ofc

abby: doesn’t dina like

abby: wanna kick my ass tho

abby: im highkey scared of her.

angel: shss beinf supportive

angel: pls i dont wanna third wheel if i dont have to

abby: tn?

angel: 8pm. pls.

abby: who do i send my rsvp to

angel: YAYY

abby: i’ll bring snacks

angel: oh u wanna makeout.

abby: yea actually

—————

unknown: Break her heart and I will BREAK YOU WATCH YOURSELF ANDERSON

abby: dina?

dina: at ur service

abby: im terrified of u

dina: good :)

dina: see u tn

dina: she really wants this to work. please, im begging, dont mess this up.

abby: i promise i wont.

Thoughts Blah Thoughts Blah

#abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby tlou #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2

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busines-as-unusual · 2 months

Text

˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 9 - And How Do You Manage? ⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Content Warning in this chapter for: sexual harrasment, unwanted touching, and bad puns

You were sick. More so than usual.

Ever since that night with Alastor, you had a knot in your stomach that refused to go away.

Thankfully there was no shortage of work to keep your mind too busy to ruminate. Work with the hotel was smooth sailing. Music was planned, auditions wrapped up— as predicted Angel got a lead role— and rehearsals were underway. Between that and running your bar, you had no time to dwell on how Alastor caught you during a horrifically vulnerable and revealing moment.

You didn’t fixate on how tipsy you got and how that made you bold enough to initiate touch with Alastor. Or how he didn’t push you away and how amazing that felt. Not a single time. Especially not at night when you tried to sleep.

You certainly didn’t think about how whenever you and Alastor met in the hotel to review event progression he treated you no differently than before. How he behaved like his usual cordial, charming, irritating self, and never mentioned what happened that night.

You absolutely did not consider how he caught you at your lowest, knew your greatest shame, how he saw you… and nothing had changed.

Did you appreciate that? Or did you resent him for crossing that boundary with you without permission? Did that change the nature of your relationship with Alastor? Or was it foolish to consider that at all? Maybe it was foolish to think any of this mattered. Would ruminating on this drive you mad? Was that what Alastor wanted? Was that his game plan?

You didn’t know because you weren't even thinking about those things. None of these thoughts crossed your mind, not once, not one time.

And you definitely weren’t looking for Alastor as you, Charlie, and Vaggie assessed the hotel’s amphitheater. Nope! You were a businesswoman doing serious business things with professional-level focus.

The hotel’s amphitheater was beautifully grand: Plush red leather chairs wrapped around in a semicircle of the large golden stage with ornate apple designs and a tall satin curtain, white instead of red. Chandeliers made of hundreds of multicolored crystals sparkled overhead.

You couldn’t have imagined a better place for the performances. A part of you worried there were too many seats, but Charlie was confident every one would be filled. For whatever reason, you trusted her gut.

Crew members scurried around, cleaning or testing equipment. A flash of red in the corner of your eye; your head swiveled so fast your neck cracked. It was Niffty, scurrying along the seats and chasing some fuzzy, bug-like vermin with a sewing needle, getting close but no cigar.

“Hey, Niffty,” you called. She eyed the critter with a murderous intent before scrambling over with her usual big, happy, smile.

You fished out one of the knives from your garter and presented it to her. Instead of taking it, she stared wide-eyed in awe at you; The Lady of the Lake handing her Excalibur.

Charlie and Vaggie frowned with concern. Vaggie waved a hand in front of Niffty’s face. “Uh… Nifft? You good?”

Finally she spoke, her voice quiet. “Am I worthy?”

You played along. “The worthiest, my dear.”

Cackling, Niffty snatched the knife and jumped back into the hunt, weaving through crew members’ legs and knocking a few of them over. She chased the varmint onto the stage.

You cupped your hands, shouting, “Save me the bones!”

“Gotcha!”

Niffty swan dived off the stage and chased the critter out of the amphitheater, laughing like a mad woman drunk on power.

Oh god, what have you done?

You turned to the girls. “I’ll take full responsibility for the damages.”

“Oh, don’t worry about her.” Charlie waved away your concern, her smile uncertain. “I’m sure it’ll be fine—”

A distant shriek of pain— that could’ve been from anyone for any reason— confirmed her sentiment.

“Anyway!” Charlie clapped her hands and spun on her heels. “Things look like they’re going well here. How about we meet with Husk and go over the refreshment situation?”

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

The wall behind your headboard was thoroughly wrecked; peeling paint and crumbling plaster revealed the ragged brick underneath. Once again, your talent for picking lovers was a blessing and a curse.

Mostly a blessing.

You called some of your employees to have it fixed, and figured you might as well have the room repainted while they were at it. The whole process would be a few days at most.

Your home was made to entertain guests, not keep them. You needed a place to stay in the meantime, so you packed some clothes and your essentials and did what you promised yourself never to do… you checked into the Hazbin Hotel.

You could’ve stayed with Mimzy, it’s been a while since you’ve seen her. Or with Rosie and caught her up to date about all those things you weren’t ruminating on. You had plenty of acquaintances who would’ve let you crash on their couch for a few nights, but in the end you succumbed to impulses you knew would bite you in the ass later. You were a child told not to touch a hot stove… in this weird metaphor where you were also the mother telling yourself not to touch the hot stove.

You were your own worst enemy. Maybe your mother was right.

An energetic Charlie greeted you at the hotel, oh-so happy you’d be staying for a few days, followed by Angel, oh-so happy to finally have a night off from dealing with Valentino’s bullshit.

A night like this couldn’t go to waste, so Angel called Cherrie, and you along with Husk hit up Consent, the nightclub you’ve heard so much about.

It was either that or stick around and risk having an awkward conversation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Ruminated-On.

Of course, you had to change out of what Cherrie had poetically dubbed, “old granny lingerie.” You wrangled together an outfit more befitting of a modern setting. You had a short wine-colored dress you accessorized with a leather chest harness with Succubi wings (because you used every excuse to wear it in and out of the bedroom). Once Cherrie squished your cleavage and mussed up your hair, you were deemed acceptable to leave the hotel.

Modern clubs weren’t really your style, but Consent was a pretty decent joint. The place was teeming with infectious positive vibes and the music was decent. At least you had a great time shaking your ass after a couple shots.

The thumping music and flashing lights moved you, and for a while your mind was free and blissfully numb as you danced with the Cherrie and Angel (drinking was more Husk’s speed). Cherrie ribbed you for how you danced, while conversation with Husk was a welcomed reprieve from the dance floor. The entire night, Angel insisted on taking pictures with everyone between shots of tequila and shots of even more tequila.

Speaking of which, it was your turn to buy drinks for the group. You brought them over to the corner table where your friends gathered and presented them all with a flourish and a big, drunken grin. “Voila, mes amis! Afterlife-saving alcohol. Buvons!”

“Don’t spill the good shit!” Cherrie laughed, helping you set the drinks on the table.

The four of you toasted with your shot glasses before shooting them back. It burned deliciously all the way down, warming your cheeks and relaxing your muscles.

You slammed the glass on the table with a big, contented sigh. “Ah! Just what I needed.”

“You’re telling me,” Angel said. “You’ve been tense for days. Somethin’ happen, toots? Ya ain’t getting laid enough?”

“Pffft! No! To both. I’ve been… overworked, ‘sall.” A very convincing dismissive wave of your hand. “Y’know with the event and my club and… stuff.”

Husk mmm-hmmed knowingly, eying you but staying quiet. As long as you’ve known him, he could see right through anyone and everyone. His six sense was what made him such a good gambler, good enough to be quite the Overlord, once upon a time.

“Well, maybe there’s been something… but it’s whatever, y’know. Hardly interesting at all.”

Cherrie leaned in, playfully jostling your shoulder. “C’mon! Spill it, bitch. You’re drunk enough to overshare.”

You considered it for a moment. Alastor already knew about the worst thing to ever happen to you. Telling these three how you felt about him couldn’t be any worse… or if it was, your fuzzy brain couldn’t produce the reasons.

Your fingers drummed the table. “I’ve been suffering… from a certain infliction…involving Alastor.”

“Certain inflict— the fuck are you on about?”

“She means she has it bad for Alastor,” Husk said before taking another swig of his drink.

Your fists pounded the table, mortified. “Husker!”

“What? It’s the fucking truth.”

“Seriously?” Angel asked in genuine surprise. “You have a thing for Freaky Face?”

Cherrie laughed. “Well fuck me double dead!”

You covered your face with both hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Pretty much.” Husk shrugged. “I have no reason to give a fuck and I still noticed.”

You groaned, and dropped your face flat on the table, drinks clattering from the force.

“You wanna fuck the creep?” Angel asked.

“What?!” You lifted your head, chin on the table.

“I said…” He cupped his hand to his mouth and yelled over the music, “‘You wanna the creep?!’” His outburst earned your table a few semi-interested side glances from passers’by.

“Oh!” You laughed, flopping backwards in the booth. “Abso-bloody-lutely! The moment I saw him I wanted to jump his bones.”

Actually, the thought that ran through your head the night you first laid eyes on the drop-dead gorgeous stranger with the glasses and killer smile was that he looked like danger, vice, and sin… and that he probably ate people. It’s what spurred you on to steal him away for yourself.

No one ever said you were a well woman.

“Hold on a sec.” Cherrie brow creased over her eye and looked at you skeptically. “Ya serious with me right now?”

“Of course. Have you seen him?”

“Exactly why I'm askin’.”

You scoffed. “You must have cataracts because he is so goddamn fine, a certified looker and I am always looking. Very disrespectfully, I might add.”

“Look,” Angel said. “I'm not saying he's unattractive—”

“I am.” Husk and Cherrie said in unison.

“—but he's, like, the physical embodiment of a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“He is, isn't he?” You sighed dreamily, slanted smile on your face at the thought of Alastor. “I remember the first time I saw him grow in size to eat a person whole. He unhinged his jaw like a goddamn snake. I couldn’t sleep for days! And those weird magic tendrils he has make me—”

“No!” Husk held his hand, his face awash with absolute disgust. “No. Stop, goddammit. I’m trying to keep this shit down tonight.” He took a swig of his drink, as if to wash down your train of thought like vile medicine.

“Twenty or thirty years ago, I saw him with his coat off and his sleeves rolled up. His bare arms?” You fanned yourself dramatically at the memory. “Oh! I could double die!”

Cherrie laughed, smacking the table. “Girl, come on! You’re actin’ like some Victorian prude seeing ankles for the first time.”

“Sounds about right. I was raised by two of them.”

Angel frowned. “I thought you lived around my neck of the woods?”

“Mon ami.” You put a hand on his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “They’re called boats.”

He flipped you off with three-fourths of his hands; you and Cherrie burst out laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Angel waved away your jest. “So Creepy Face makes you dehydrated, huh? Why haven’t you jumped his spooky bones yet?”

I cringed like he suggested I chew on broken glass for fun. “Be serious, Angel. You live with the man. You think he’d ever be receptive to <i>anyone</i> jumping his spooky bones?”

A shrug of both sets of shoulders. “Eh, fair. I always got the feeling he didn’t play on any team.”

“And that’s fine, y’know? I don’t want to change him or anything, but when it comes to Alastor…” You grabbed another shot and swished the clear liquid around in the small glass. “I’m a dizzy yuck carrying a torch for the gigglemug and I’m going mad as a box of frogs.”

“Uh, in fucking English please?” Cherrie asked.

“She means she’s down baaa-aaad.” Angel sing-songed, waggling his brows.

Cherrie chortled, throwing you a look of mock sympathy. “Aww! You want him to be ya <i>boyfriend</i>, ya sentimental mug?”

They laughed, and Husk shook his head in pity.

Thoroughly humiliated, you finished your shot. Then two more… and then one last shot for good luck. “Thank you all for the wonderful evening. Excuse me while I go play in traffic.”

You stood, but Angel grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back down. “Relax, toots. We’re just razzing ya.”

“Yeah, chill out, ya drama queen!” Cherrie slid over one of Husk’s tall glasses of alcohol, much to his annoyance. “Here’s what you’ll do. Down some liquid courage and screw the next guy you see. Random dick best medicine for a broken heart.”

Your nervous laughter was unconvincing even to your drunken ears. “A broken whaaaaat are you talking about? You… silly little lady.”

Cherrie rolled her eye. “Uh huh. Start chugging, skank!”

Husk argued this was a terrible idea, and Angel ended up playing mediator between him and Cherrie. You heard none of it as you downed a pint of whatever in six seconds. It was sweet and terrible, like dirty sugared nail polish.

A rush of warmth rolled through you under your skin, making you shudder. You stood with the empty glass, holding it by the rim. “Mish we luck, darlings!” Purposely, you dropped the glass, and ignored the shouts of protest around you as you bantered back onto the dance floor.

It didn’t take long for an over eager demon to approach you. You’d spotted him eyeing you earlier but didn’t pay him much mind. He was some type of weasel-faced demon with jagged teeth and a jacket over a garish button up.

You stilled as unwanted hands snaked over your hips from behind, making your skin crawl. Cologne flooded your nose, making you gag.

“Hey, honey tits. You’ve been dancing all night. Why don’tcha kick up your feet and sit on my face a while?”

No fucking thanks.

You looked at him over your shoulder, red lips curled into an unamused smile. “That couldn’t have worked for you before.”

He chuckled with unwarranted smugness; rancid beer breath wafted over your cheek. “Come on, sexy.” A squeeze of your hips, an unwelcomed hump against your ass. “Bet I can show you a good time.”

“For some reason, I’m doubtful.” You wiggled from his grip and turned to face him. “I must ask you to, respectfully, piss off. But please do have a terrific night, you noisome sack of soiled taint.”

You turned to walk away, but he grabbed at you again like he had the right, tugging on your tail, hard.

The ghost of a smile lived on your face as you swallowed down a terrified yelp. “You’re gonna take your fucking hand off me.”

He scowled like you were piss on the sidewalk he stepped in. “Look at Roman’s favorite little slut thinking she’s better than she is—”

A flash around your fist; you introduced his mouth to your brass knuckles. The bones in his jaw caved before he crumbled like a ton of bricks at your feet. All at once the music cut out as dozens of eyes suddenly locked on you and the man you sucker punched.

Your friends at the table stared at you, stunned. “What the hell?” Husk shouted. “It hasn’t even been a minute!”

“Oh shit!” A group of about ten or so men ran to the passed out bastard at your feet. “Oi, what the fuck! You killed Ricky!”

The bastard in question stirred, rolled over, and spat out a few bloodied teeth.

You motioned to him like a sack of laundry. “Ricky’s right as rain, fellas. What’s the problem?”

No surprise, you were the problem, if the several guns aimed at your chest were any indication. Angel, Cherrie, and Husk rushed to your side, guns, bombs, and cards out in defense.

Fist to jaw, you cracked your neck from side to side. “So you wanna dance?” You grabbed one of your thigh knives and flicked it, the blade extending to the length of your forearm. “Let’s cut a rug!”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Cherrie whooped, tossing a bomb up and catching it with one hand. “Let’s fuckin’ go!”

And fuckin’ go you did.

You rushed the nearest goon. Ducking under his firing gun, your blade cleaved clean through his kneecaps. He howled and toppled over, severed legs left standing right, blood spurting like a busted fountain.

Soon the battle unfolded into a blur of carnage and unadulterated violence. The crowd, desperate not to get hit in the crossfire, screamed and fled out the door in droves. A flurry of bullets, blood, and explosions rocked the building. You caught glimpses of the others through the chaos and smoke: Angel gunned down the larger guys in the back. Husk, quick as a whip, threw his playing cards, slicing through torsos and necks. Cherrie threw her bombs with reckless abandon, her laughter accented with explosions. And you twirled light on your feet, slicing and dicing with experienced ease.

The smoke cleared, the fight ending faster than it started, the night capped off with the four of you surrounded by massacred bodies and rubble. You ended up cutting a juicy fat check to the extremely pissed off owner.

The four of you rode the high of victory all the way back to the hotel, laughing and talking way louder than necessary. After exchanging good nights, you shuffled to your room, singing under your breath and rummaging your purse for your room key.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras… Il me parle tout basaaassSHIT!”

Where was your key? You dug through your purse, even dumped the contents on the floor. Lipstick, condoms, and spare tampons spilled on the floor, but not your room key.

Shit.

Shit shit shit!

Husk wouldn’t be able to get you a second key until morning, and you had no idea what room he or Angel slept in. That left…

“… shit.”

You knocked on the door three times. Thirty seconds passed, a minute, the silence painfully deafening. You contemplated sleeping in the lounge when the door to the Radio Tower eased open.

“Ah, salut!” You leaned on the door frame and nearly stumbled. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t hide your dopey happy grin. “There's the man I wanted to see!”

Alastor's permanent smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Temerity! What brings you here at this hour? And in such a state?”

Oh, right. Once again you stood before Alastor splattered in the blood of your enemies. You two had to stop meeting like this.

“Listen, my door is all—” You clicked your tongue and pantomimed turning a key in a door. “And I need you.”

“To unlock your door?”

“… yes, that.”

A look flashed across his face you had no hope of discerning while inebriated. He stepped through the door and whirled his microphone behind him.

“I see! Well, I’m more than happy to be of assistance!”

You figured he’d use his freaky voodoo/hoodoo powers to summon a key, instead he strolled down the hall. Seconds passed before your three remaining brain cells figured out you should follow him. Alastor stopped in front of your room door. This was his way of messing with you, letting you know he knew where you slept.

…or maybe you were paranoid, but what was more likely?

Once at your door, he tapped it with his cane and the door eased open with a glowing green light. “There you are, my dear!”

“Merci beaucoup, Al-a-stor~”

You blew him a kiss and spun into the room, confidently inelegant. Alastor couldn’t help his hum of amusement. Even this sloppily drunk he found you to be more amusing than unsavory.

Alastor turned to leave when a terrified “Oh, bollocks!” stopped him in his tracks. Seeing you dig through your bra was not what he expected.

“Wait! Never mind.” You pulled your hand free and dropped three small white blobs on the dresser with a clatter. Teeth, Alastor realized. Sharp and jagged canine-like teeth.

A twitch in his eye as he regarded you. “Temerity, why were there teeth in your undergarments?”

“They’re not mine.”

Speechless. He was speechless, brow furrowed, head tilted to the side. Your blasé attitude left him with more questions.

You seemed to mistake his expression for annoyance. “‘m sorry about this. I know it’s late. I bet you were sleep sleep.”

“Not at all, actually.” He and insomnia had a complex relationship, to say the very least.

“Why? Because sleep is the cousin of death, or because it’s stupid?” You struggled with the lascivious harness strapped across your chest, pulling it off with so much force you nearly fell on your back. “We’re dead! Why do we even need to sleep? Or eat? Or have sex?”

Well, he could agree with two out of three of those things.

Alastor casually dusted off an outstretched sleeve and fixed his suit. “A very astute question, my dear. I’m afraid you’d have to ask the feathered schmucks stairs,” he said, using your own words from the other night.

You snorted, laughing behind a blood-speckled hand. “Alastor! Lord, you alway make me laugh…”

You rolled on your stomach, swinging your feet in the air and beaming at him with pure admiration, expression unfiltered due to your intoxication. “Remember that time at the bar? Those clods yapped and yapped about their old ladies, going on and on, and they started needling you about ‘your gal’ and you went—” you sat and cleared your throat, pushing up imaginary glasses. “‘My gal made a great meal, but I sure do miss her!’”

Alastor’s eye twitched. Your impression of him left much to be desired.

He didn’t listen as you went on to describe the night, because he recalled it clearly. He remembered that night decades ago at the speakeasy Mimzy worked. He’d spent many a night there schmoozing, drinking, dancing, prowling for possible prey.

In particular Alastor remembered the dark-haired, bright-eyed woman with far too much confidence who spirited him away to the dance floor, proudly declaring, “You look like a fella with stamina! You’re my partner now!”

He remembered sitting at the bar with you after hours of dancing and a few drinks in, hazy with smoke and surrounded by faceless dregs who jabbered on and on about uninteresting manners. His joke— really his attempt to steer the conversation off course— was received well by you alone.

Smile lines crinkled around your eyes as you snorted. Without skipping a beat, you said, “How sweet! My man only gives me the cold shoulder.”

He grinned, hardly noticing or caring when the others retreated from the bar. “To think he’d treat a dame like you so poorly. How tasteless.”

An exaggerated head shake. “I’m thinking of throwing him out.”

“In that case, I’d love to have you for dinner sometime.”

You leaned in, your permanent self-assured grin replaced with one of girlhood giddiness, in stark contrast to the jokes about cannibalism. “As long as it doesn’t—“ you stifled a laugh, “doesn’t cost you an arm and a leg!”

“Of course not, dear! Perhaps afterwards we can have a nice chat over a cup of Joe.”

You lost it, conceding to him the win in the battle of cheesy puns as you giggled like mad and wiped away tears.

Back in the present you swiped at tears of laughter and threw yourself back on the bed. “We were so dumb! It wasn’t even funny, I just—” A deep yawn rolled through you, “…appreciated your commitment… to the bit…”

You went silent, a soft rumble as your breathing deepended, and you fell sound asleep in an instant. Alastor would almost admire the ability… if it wasn’t simply because you were drunk. He’d seen you tipsy before, from afar at functions. Even when you two met you weren’t as wasted as this.

In your inebriated state you didn’t know what you revealed. Despite your candor about discussing your life on earth, you never mentioned your shared history with Alastor before meeting again in Hell. He thought you’d forgotten, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

He had to keep that in mind.

While brief, meeting you was a splendidly memorable night. At the time, he regretted never having the chance to meet with you again, despite your insistence that the two of you should. Someone like you was a rare fine, a true gem among the clods.

Alastor sensed you held similar secrets to him. Not necessarily that you killed people, but he could tell you protected yourself with charisma, hid behind smiles, and kept your true identity hidden within the depths of your soul. Despite your charm and wit, none of the people in your entourage stayed by your side as the night progressed.

Perhaps if one had you wouldn’t have met your fate that night…

Well! Enough reminiscing for one night! It was time for him to return to his Radio Tower, but once again something stopped him.

He looked over your sleeping form. Gentle snoring rumbled in your chest like distant thunder, a soft exhale escaped your parted lips. Your blood red heels (that most likely weren’t that color when you put them on) dangled over the foot of the bed.

His smile twisted as he took in your vulnerable sleeping body. What was it you said to him the night he found you, splashed with crimson in the same manner? Only an absolute fool would trust him absolutely.

Yet here you were, willing to be vulnerable in his presence.

Alastor could only fathom falling asleep in front of Rosie, but their relationship was the exception that proved the rule. While he meant you no physical harm and knew you didn’t fear him, it was appalling to him you’d choose to put yourself in this position.

Frankly, it was pure foolishness.

Perhaps the alcohol was to blame, but he doubted it. Coming to him was one option of many and you chose him. You trusted him.

For reasons he didn’t quite understand he found himself kneeling at the foot of your bed, ready to remove your heels.

It would’ve been more interesting to do this when you were awake. After all, most of the joy of violating one’s personal space came from annoying them, drawing expressions and reactions from them by mere proximity.

Would you be appalled and act disgusted by him violating your boundaries? Perhaps given your state you’d finally give in and confess to him. That could be fun, but nowhere near as satisfying if you did it clear headed, cognisant of the consequences.

Alastor found himself doing it anyway, gently slipping off one at a time and setting them aside. He knew first hand one shouldn’t sleep with shoes on.

Your skin flecked with blood reminded him of that night he saw your mask shattered in the perfect marriage of theatrics and brutality. His eyes glance to the blood smattering the fat of your thighs. An unfamiliar pang ached in the center of his being, a feeling he could only register as hunger.

How peculiar…

The feeling caught him by utter surprise. His taste in flesh never included friends; his psyche deemed them off limits and he was unable to view them as food.

But looking at you defenseless and covered in blood— like a wounded lamb purposefully dragging itself into the lion’s den— the uncomfortable longing stirring in him had to be hunger…

Alastor stood, more quickly than necessary, forcing his eyes off you and onto your room. Then he saw something that forced that feeling to rise into his chest, a final revelation before he vanished into the shadows.

Your radio from home sat on the nightstand.

A/N: Sorry I haven’t uploaded in a while. I got really depressed, got addicted to ai chatbots, and forgot how to write…

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priniya · 2 years

Text

MEDDLE ABOUT !

all she was supposed to do was to stand in the front row, hyping up her cousin, not get the lead guitarist fall on his knees for her.

notes: rockstar!xavier thorpe x reader. reader is a cousin of enid. xavier, ajax, yoko, and enid are in a band called nevermore. highly inspirated by meddle about by chase atlantic mentions of alcohol, weed, implied sex. unedited.

masterlist • taglist

you remember the night, when you met xavier thorpe for the first time. it happened during at one of the concerts in your town, after your cousin got you a ticket in the front row. it’d be a lie, if you said that he hadn’t taken your breathe away the second you held eye contact.

he looked ethereal, hair dyed on a platinum blonde, shirt quite ripped, dark, cargo pants, and a smirk that hovered over his lips for most of the event. sweat glistening on his forehead as he focused himself on you, the expression on his face not changing a bit.

you were enchated, not only by his devilishly handsome appearance — that could be an accurate definition of what you like in men — but also for his engagement in the concert, for how angelic he looked pulling the strings of his guitar, not even looking at it, eyes not leaving yours. it was almost as if he was a magician, who didn’t have to concentrate on anything to ace whatever he was doing.

you expected your cousin’s band to be decent at max, after everything that you’d heard from your relatives, who weren’t really keen on the type of music the band performed. but you were genuinely interested, which could be influenced by the presence of the cute guitarist, but well, you didn’t even know him, and you wanted to go to their other concerts, so that wasn’t exactly the worst thing.

your cousin, enid, smiled at you from the drums, when their gig came to an end, and waved with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on her face. “y/n, you came!” she let out happily, throwing her arms around your neck, pulling you to bend a little so the hug would be more comfortable for each of you.

you matched her smile, hand flying to ruffle her hair playfully as you finally backed away. “dear lord, i would never let my favorite cousin down, would i?” a chuckle left your mouth. “shouldn’t you help your bandmates clean up, enid?” you asked, arms crossed at the chest.

“it’s finee, they won’t really mind.” she dragged out, the delighted expression not wiping off her face. “actually… wouldn’t you like to join us in partying? we haven’t partied in soo long.” the blonde girl begged you, gripping the fabric of your jacket, shaking it a little. “pleasee, y/n.”

“i’d never let down a party.” you laughed, the image of the platinum blonde boy still vivid in your imagination as you thought about partying with the nevermore band. “you know me too well, sinclair.”

the club you were supposed to be partying at was even bigger than the one you used to work at as a waitress in high school. the music was blasting so much that you barely heard your own thoughts, and you liked it. you were longing a good drink ever since you entered the venue of nevermore’s concert. a drink that would give you enough courage to make a move on the guitarist.

you were leaning your back on the bar’s counter, smoke filling your lungs as you tried to explain something to a girl you just met, placing the joint back in between her fingers, making xavier laugh in amusement at your antics. enid hasn’t warned them that you talk about your majors while being drunk.

the stranger seemed to notice xavier sooner that you did, vanishing quicker than he appeared in front of you, a cup filled with vodka mixed with something he couldn’t even remember in his hand, and the smirk.

“all the roads lead to rome, huh?” you smiled, watching him as he took the closest seat to you, his free arm finding a way to wrap itself around your shoulders, giving you the type of feeling you couldn’t recognize. “god, you looked spectacular, you know that?” he leaned closer, his ears somewhere above your ear as his fingertips traced shapes on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“me? oh, mister guitarist, you clearly haven’t looked into the mirror today.” your voice matched his flirty tone, pressing yourself against his chest with a smile he began to adore. “thought i’d drop dead on the floor the second you looked at me.” he laughed right into your ear, the sound of his laughter twirling around your mind.

“god, what would happen if i kissed you?” he asked teasingly, blocking you the way out by standing in front of you with a mischievous grin, not that you even thought about getting away from him.

“there’s only one way to find out.” you let out, your breath short as you felt his on your lips, before he pressed his body against yours, his knee in between your legs, hands wandering around your waist, kissing you harshly.

a pleased sigh fell from your parted lips, whipping your head slightly backwards, fingers tugging on the strands of thorpe’s hair. you’d lie if you said that his action hardly affected you — if it wasn’t for the pleasure you had in feeling his lips on yours, you’d claim that your legs gave up on keeping you still, not because of how well the kiss made you feel.

one of his hands slided down your thigh, squeezing it gently, earning a stuffed hum in return, and another pull on his hair, which xavier had to admit, drove him absolutely insane, in the best way possible. both of you felt like on cloud nine, letting yourselves lose everything at the feeling of your lips brushing against each other.

not too soon after he kissed you, you were interrupted by his bandmate, a boyfriend of your cousin, and the lead singer of nevermore, who tried to order something for enid, and yoko. “i get the tension between you, but find a room of something, could ya?” he rolled his eyes, witnessing how reluctantly you pulled away at his words.

however, xavier took his advance to the heart, pulling you to the exist of the building to the taxi waiting for you outside. as no more than ten minutes passed by, you found yourself at the entrance of one of more expensive hotels in your town, thorpe guiding you to an elevator.

the apartament he had rented was amazing, nonetheless you hadn’t had much time to give it a second thought as the boy decided on continuing what was interrupted at the club, lifting you swiftly to help you get on a kitchen counter. everything was happening so fast that you couldn’t stop the burning feeling in your abdomen, your clothes finding their own place on the tiles.

the next morning you woke up to an empty place in the bed next to you, the sheets still warm, when you brought your feet to the cold wooden flooring. memories from the previous night got even more vivid in your mind, when you put on your underwear on the way to kitchen, catching the shirtless boy sipping on a cup of coffee.

his back was scratched, and covered in hickies you couldn’t be more proud of. a thought slipped through your mind that there was a higher chance, he would remember you now. half of his hair pinned in a bun, the rest were falling down his shoulders. “will you quit staring at me and come here?” he mumbles, looking at you from above the cup, biting back a smile.

“don’t know if that’s possible.” you said jokingly, the shirt he was wearing last night was now loosely hanging on your body as he handed you another cup of coffee. you could hear him match your quiet laughs, the tingling feeling popping up in your stomach.

you’ve truly expected a different type of morning, either seeing his silhouette laying down next to you with his tattooed arms wrapped around your body, or no sight of him in the apartment at all, like if he vanished when you fell asleep. but here you were, shoulders linked with his as you held a small chitchat about anything, his shirt on your body, while the location of a dress you had on last night was unknown to you.

“shit, i’ve gotta get going.” you sighed reluctantly, catching a glimpse of the clock prior. “i had a great time last night.” you let out in undertone, seeing how the boy managed to get closer to you, hands on each side of your body. “xavier.” you chuckled, his touch tickles you.

“what? who said you have to go?” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear, words twirling in your brain like the most beautiful song. “oh, y/n.”

“hmm, my cousin.” you replied, head whipped slightly to the back as he gave you another unregular line of hickies on your neck. “she’s going to kill me with her long ass nails if i’m late.” you found the strength to push him away. you were met with the same smirk you had yesterday, and a shake of a head.

“jeez, just put your number in my phone, alright? can’t lose a gem like you.” he handed you his phone as you swiftly typed your number, before leaving him with a brief kiss. “hope to see ya later.”

“sure, rockstar.”

after you left the building, you and xavier haven’t met a single time, since your boss decided to dump a shitload of work to do. you felt frustrated, having less than an ounce of concentration in yourself, not mentioning the lack of memory to text him back, which lead him insane, really.

an emerald apron was wrapped around your body as you wiped another stain off one of the tables in the coffee shop you’ve worked at. sweat dripping down your forehead, sleeves of your white button-up rolled to an elbow-level, you were so worked up that you almost missed the sound of the doorbell.

“sorry, but it’s already closed.” you mumbled, not sparing the newcomer a glance.

“good thing i haven’t come here for a coffee, then?” god, his laughter filled your eardrums, recognizing the voice almost immediately. “you didn’t reply to any of my texts.” he added, earning a chuckle in response.

“mr. rockstar misses a girl he fucked once?” you rised your eyebrows up, and smiled with arms crossed at the chest. “well, i don’t think it happened once.” the infamous smirk found its way to his lips.

it didn’t take him long to crash his lips into yours, but the sloppy kiss didn’t last as long as you wanted, he pulled away few seconds later. his eyes looking so intensely into yours almost startling you, lips parted as he spoke.

“i fucking love you.” xavier let out, hands cupping your hips, closing the gap between your bodies. “i’ve never felt it before, you’re on my mind 24/7, and i’m going insane, when i don’t think about you. you drove me crazy by leaving me on read. what do you want me to do? leave the band, and get a job with you here? sure i can do that. i paint, i can paint anything you’d like me to. do you hear me? i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me be your fucking… uh, boyfriend.” his words escaped from between his lips in one breath, causing you to grin.

leaning your palms on the table beside you, you kept thorpe in suspense. “you’re willing to leave the nevermore for me?” you mumbled, trying to bit back the wide grin on your lips. “don’t do that, though.” you added, fixing his denim jacket.

“i feared you’d tell me to do so.” a nervous chuckle fell down his throat, his eyes following the every move of your hands. “but you didn’t answer the last-” he stopped in his tracks, looked you dead in the eyes.

“listen, ajax would probably say i’m crazy, because we only met each other just another day, but girl, you’ve got me down on my knees, and it’s getting harder to breathe out, knowing that you’re not mine yet.”

“you know, enid would probably say i’m crazy, but i feel the same way about you, mr. rockstar. and i’d love to be your girlfriend.” the confession left your mouth as you kissed him. “but i gotta clean the shit up, before my boss fire me.”

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe fic #wednesday addams fic #xavier thorpe #guitarist!xavier thorpe #wednesday fluff #wednesday show fanfiction #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier thorpe fluff #niki’s works 🫂

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inawearyworld · 9 months

Text

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv

shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

god, i love musicals.

(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)

once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship

but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!

part three fic masterlist part five

While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.

Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.

Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.

The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.

We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.

Start with the “why”, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)

My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.

He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.

As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.

Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.

Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.

So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.

If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.

So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.

The same could not be said for her.

Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.

With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.

This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.

Did they plan something?

She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.

He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.

All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.

Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.

If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.

Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.

She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.

When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.

The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.

Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.

“How did you-”

But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.

“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.

This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.

“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.

“A world of your own-”

“-where you can be free!”

“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”

“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.

“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.

She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.

What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.

She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.

The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.

She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.

“Terrible shame what-”

“Florence?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.

Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”

“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.

“Hi, Felix.”

Silence.

Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.

“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.

For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.

“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”

They didn’t move.

She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.

Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.

The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.

“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”

“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”

“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.

Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.

“...My family?”

“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”

…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.

They haven’t-

“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”

“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s the same way for me!”

This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.

“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.

“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”

“I…”

Tears blurred her vision.

“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”

For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.

Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.

She’d lost him.

She’d never truly had him to lose.

But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.

After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.

“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”

What?

Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.

“Wait-wait, no, I-”

“Wren-”

She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-

“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”

“Wren-”

“Let me-”

“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”

“WREN!”

The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.

All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.

They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.

Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.

This is not over.

#fiytwtb #wonka movie #wonka 2023 #wonka #willy wonka x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet #wonka x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader #mat baynton x reader

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yanderemommabean · 1 year

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God, I beg you, write something for our iconic men from far cry 5😭😭

The yandere fandom of this wonderful game is dead, and all hopes are only for you, Mommy!

What about jealousy headcons?? Or a scenario where Jacob is jealous of Stacy??? Like, Y/N and Stacy are friends and then bam! We are Jacob's woman, and Stacy... And Stacy is Jacob's dog...I can already see old, dirty and incredibly sexy jealous Jacob...

It’s very well known that Jacob has his own strange and twisted world views. What makes him jealous and what doesn't really is just a coin toss. He could be completely fine watching you be around the others as they’re covered in blood and you all share a laugh, but could be so ballistic at the sight of someone making you smile in private, or someone being patched up by you without him or someone else in the room. Now, he doesn’t care what happens as a group endeavor, packs are strong and he’s their leader, but in private?Well that's a completely different story. In private, they can see more of you than their dirty, weak, vile eyes deserve. A smile can send mixed messages to these dogs, can make them believe they deserve your time and more of it. That leads to touches, that leads to affectionate touches, that leads to him aiming his gun between their eyes and feeding their meat to the other followers as a lesson. As a group they should worship you but if they ever try without him in the room, He’ll make “the cook” look like a saint.

Staci is a relatively new follower. Trained well, or so Jacob thought. The man obeys, is brainwashed and under his control, should know his place by now. But he seems to forget who you are, and who your lover and leader is. Much too much private time, lingering behind during chores to catch up with you and talk to you. Feeding times he’s seen sitting one seat too many to you, chatting away about whatever it is that comes to mind.

Honestly, he should just string the mutt up and leave his head hanging from a rafter, but he so rarely sees you this happy without Jacob in the vicinity. Perhaps he could use this music box for more than just killing. Contrary to popular belief, you can teach an old dog new tricks, especially if you threaten their lives.

You, his sweet, dear little lamb, deserve a guard dog. One who knows how to keep you away from other unsavory, unholy followers who dare turn on their master. To keep you company, but not too much. Staci can be the one who protects you when Jacob is gone, and obey his every command to make sure you are kept safe, sound, and maybe even spoiled.

“Staci” Jacob calls, watching as you two feed the wolves and laugh about how they shake the blood filled meat around like toys. “Come with me. I need to speak with you. Alone”.

-Mommabean ((I hope this was alright! ❤️))

#yandere far cry 5 #yandere jacob seed #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #mommabean #poly yandere #if you squint

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rogerswifesblog · 10 months

Text

1 - The Devil I Desire

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

A/N: Hi! This is my first Stucky Series and I hope you’ll like it. Tbh Steve is a dick in this one (at least in the beginning) and it won’t be Peggy friendly either. Also, READ TGE WARNINGS, it’s important since it’ll later on contain still like age gap, cheating and other rather controversial stuff.

Here’s the first chapter! Have fun reading!

And a big thank you to @jamneuromain who helped me with the idea and especially some things later on in the story…(especially some extra drama👀)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

Pairing: silver fox Steve Rogers x college student Bucky Barnes

Chapter summary: first meeting after a disaster….just leading into another one.

Warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, past trauma

Bucky wanted to get wasted. Like, really get wasted. His tinder date was once again a total disaster and right now he just wanted to spend a fun evening with his best friend (preferably by getting wasted).

> waitin at the bar < Bucky texted Wanda, while sipping at his second tequila sunrise, scrolling through Instagram. All those happy couples annoyed him, posting all those cute pictures together. Why couldn’t he have this? Why couldn’t he be in such a cute relationship too?

He wasn’t even picky. He just wanted someone who didn’t hate cats or wasn’t a serial killer. (Tho he’d probably be able to look past the second part. As long as nobody hated his dear Alpine everything should be fine.)

Bucky definitely didn’t want anyone like today's date. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time, really. First he had already suspected the other guy to be very egotistical and vain. Turned out to be the truth.

But after Bucky pulled up his sleeves from it being too hot in the restaurant? God, that’s where it all started to go downhill.

From the first moment where his scars were on display Bucky could feel his gaze on them, interested in a way, but mostly disgusted.

Just…

He couldn’t describe the vibe the other guy was giving him.

It made Bucky feel like…like an animal at the zoo, in a way. Everyone was looking at him. Judging for something he couldn’t change.

So after faking a family emergency he left his date and decided to text his group chat about wanting to go clubbing tonight. And getting drunk.

Very, very drunk.

Unless he’d find a hot guy to spend the night with. Then he’d rather remember it.

“Bucky!”, Wandas voice sounded close to him, even with the loud music killing every sound existing. Sometimes he was surprised how loud Wanda could be if she wanted to. Especially since she was always rather quiet. “Are you okay?”, her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Hi, Wanda”, Bucky smiled tiredly, leaning a bit into the hug, sighing,

He explained to Wanda what had happened and why he was in such a bad mood. She was understanding, especially since she knew how much it took Bucky to carry himself with the confidence he did now.

Wanda hugged once again after Bucky finished the story, finishing the tequila sunrise.

After a while also Clint and Pietro came to the bar, both of them immediately ordering shots.

“So, tell us what happened and how drunk we wanna be tonight?”, joked Pietro, the accent strong on his tongue, especially now after already having drank some beers with Clint before they came to the club too.

Bucky chuckled at that, only giving Pietro one exhausted smile before explaining the whole story once again to both him and Clint. Just like Wanda they understood how Bucky felt.

While complaining to his friends he hadn’t even noticed the lingering gaze of a middle aged man, watching Bucky as he sipped from his tequila.

Steve sat with Sam in the corner of the club, having a whisky on ice in his hands and only partly listening to whatever Sam was trying to tell him. It was hard for him to hear what he said and he also couldn’t really concentrate on him when his eyes were glued to the younger man’s lips wrapped around a straw.

Then he looked back at Sam, noticing he had stopped talking. “Can you repeat anything of what I’ve said?”, Sam raised his eyebrows, laughing when Steve lowered his head, clearing his throat. “I’m listening…?” “Sorry, I was in thought-“ “yeah, yeah, watching someone out of your age range. At least if I’m correct about you looking at the guy with the manbun at the bar. I’m jot even sure if he’s out of high scho-“ “of course he is. He’s in a club. Drinking alcohol. He’s at least 21”, argued Steve, already slightly Offended.

He may like younger partners than himself, but he’d never be interested in someone who’d be below 21. If he had to be honest with himself he’d rather meet with people closer to thirty than twenty, but this young man definitely didn’t seem like mid twenties.

It broke his heart to imagine he couldn’t spend the night with him, but he was definitely too young…on the other hand, it’d be just for one night.

But he also couldn’t be too sure if Mr Man-bun would even want him. Who knew if he’d be into older men? Even though Steve kept himself fit and took care of his appearance, he couldn’t hide the graying hair in his beard, the gray strands in his hair and the few wrinkles that were already covering his forehead the more he furrowed his eyebrows. Or the little crow‘s feet from all the laughs in his life.

Sighing he looked into his Glas, noticing how some of the ice had already melted, making the alcohol watery and less enjoyable….which was a good reason to go to the bar and- “don’t think about it-“ “already did it”, Steve answered, standing up and walking over to the table, purposefully stopping next to his object of desires. Who was alone. His friends were on the dance floor while he was drinking something light blue again.

“Isn’t that a bit too much for one evening?”, Steve chuckled to the young man, after ordering himself a whisky. The young man quickly finished his drink, sipping from his straw. His lips wrapped around it so nicely, as he sucked the liquid…god, Steve, keep it in your pants.

“You get me another one and I’ll stop after that”, he said flirty, winking at Steve.

So Steve was game. A smirk crept onto his lips as he called out to the bartender to get the young man the same drink as before. This time a double.

“I’m Bucky”, the young man introduced himself, holding out his hand for Steve to shake, which he did. “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

Hm, the name Rogers sounded familiar to Bucky's ears, but he ignored it.

Instead he was already looking forward to meeting this attractive man, “so…what are your plans for tonight? What are you gonna do?”

Hoped You. Was Steve's First thought but he kept his mouth shut. “I’m not sure yet…I think I’ll finish this drink and go home”, he shrugged, not being able to keep the smirk hidden.

Bucky felt like he should immediately tell this gorgeous man he would leave this place alone but…he was never one for one night stands. He actually never had one, hell, he never had sex with someone, he only had his cock sucked a couple of times or did it himself. The closest thing he had to a one night stand was when he rubbed off a guy in the toilets of a bar on a first date. Afterwards the guy never talked to him again.

He decided to be honest.

“I’d be lying if I’d say you wouldn’t be going home alone even though I’d love to say it but…I’m not that kind of guy. I mean-I really want to know what you’re hiding beneath those clothes because your shoulders seem wider than the doors but…-“ “hey, hey, don’t worry, we can just get to know each other, talk a bit…we can go back to mine and just leave it at a conversation”, Steve smiled even though he had definitely intended the night to be different.

But he was good with his words. And he knew it’d work out to his favor.

It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.

So he wasn’t surprised to see Bucky texting his friends he wouldn’t be home for the night as they were leaving the building together.

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate some feedback ❤️

What do you think why Bucky knows Steve’s surname?👀it’ll be important later on….👀

Taglist: @ozeriterchick @guiltypleasureisfun @ayronren (I’ve decided to tag some people that had reblog the series summary and might be interested! )

All posts taglist: @rogersbarber

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dark-elf-writes · 4 months

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Izuku as a child of Apollo just having a million big brothers/sisters and most are heroes is hilarious. None of fhem are letting their baby brother be bullied. Nope.

Oh god, Snipe, Hawks and Hizashi would be the most protective siblings and if you went ‘bad Inko’ i can juat imagine that custody battle. Hizashi ‘married to high school sweetheart’, Hawks ‘commission agent’ and Snipe ‘has a gun and no issue threatning people’. It would be hilarious.

The children of Apollo normally got along.

Okay well that wasn’t exactly true, but very rarely did they try to shoot at each other or scream the other’s eardrums out which put them head and shoulders over some demigod half-siblings. They weren’t Ares kids after all, they could keep it together.

Or they could, until their newest sibling came along.

Izuku Midoriya was an anomaly, a rare inheritor of their father’s knowledge aspect though just hearing them talk Hizashi swore up and down there was some music talent in there somewhere, and the kid always seemed to know exactly where villain or monster attacks would happen like they could see them coming… even if they took that knowledge and used it to run towards the fights rather than away. They didn’t have the usual look of an Apollo kid (Hizashi was the only one of them that had drawn that card) but it was nearly impossible to miss if someone knew what to look for, and the three heroes definitely knew what to look for.

But Izuku different from a typical Apollo kid or not wasn’t the problem. No the problem was that none of them could agree on what to do with them.

“I’m married!” Hizashi hissed, careful to keep their voice at a normal volume. The last time they had let their quirk slip against one of their brothers they had been dodging feathers for a week and they had no desire to repeat the experience. “And I’m a teacher! I have the best claim to a stable home life as any of us.”

Keigo narrowed his eyes, a feather twisting around his fingers as his annoyance grew. “I’m the Number Three Hero! If any one of us could take care of a kid it’s me!”

Snipe (why their brother had decided he preferred his hero name even in the off hours Hizashi would never understand, but they would honor his wishes) toyed with his gun. The fact that the barrel was pointed away from Hizashi at the moment did nothing to comfort them. It didn’t really matter where he pointed the damn things when dear old dad gave him the ability to curve his bullets.

(Hizashi would be more jealous that both of them got some sort of telekinesis while Hizashi could only be considered slightly above average when it came to anything involving projectiles but really they thought Voice was the coolest.)

“I am the only sane one between us.” Debatable, but again Hizashi wasn’t very interested in catching a bullet even if their brother had swapped them out for nonlethal rounds. They had seen the damage he could do with nerf bullets and the rounds he had were a far cry from those. “And I’m also a teacher. So don’t give me that look Zashi.”

They smoothed their face, cursing themself for letting their annoyance show. Normally they were better than this but their brothers knew just how to get under their skin.

“Um,” All three of them jolted having forgotten their sibling was still there watching them with those wide green eyes so full of wonder. “You don’t have to fight over me. I’m fine. Really.”

They weren’t. The kid’s sleeves weren’t nearly long enough to hide the bruises and fresh burns on their arms and Hizashi was pretty sure they had seen the kid limping before they had finished the fight. As much as they wanted to be picking a fight with their brothers right now… healing first.

And Hizashi was the best healer.

(Ha!)

“You’re not fine, listener,” Their voice went gentle, low, the soothing rumble under it already encouraging healing raven as they knelt beside Izuku. “Our brothers are just being stupid. It’s pretty common experience.”

“Hey!”

“Zashi!”

They smiled, bright. Blinding to anyone who didn’t also have sunlight in their blood. “C’mon. We can head back to my place and get you patched up. Any other… arrangements can be made after you’re healed.”

“I’m coming too!”

“And me!”

Shouta was going to kill them… but at least Hizashi could shove their brothers at him first for canon fodder.

Izuku looked like they might argue but…

“Ours,” they said. “You said they are our brothers.”

Hizashi ran careful fingers over the kid’s cheek. “Ours. We Apollo kids have to stick together after all… even if some of us are annoying.”

“Coming from Queen annoying that says a lot,” Hawks mumbled. Hizashi made a mental note to curse him into speaking in lyrics later. They were pretty sure he had a meeting coming up where that would be particularly annoying.

Izuku looked between the three of them, eyes burning like the noonday sun as they hunted for something in their expressions. But eventually they smiled. “I’ve always wanted big siblings.”

Shit, Hizashi thought. They were going to end up with the most complicated three way custody agreement they just knew it.

#the elf talks #mha #bnha #pjo #meanwhile Apollo is cooing over how cute his kids all are #children of the sun au

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perdvivly · 6 months

Text

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. And into the universe He poured a goodly portion of divine providence. Almost too much divine providence according to one particularly problematic angel. This angel’s name was Meaning. One day, Meaning and God decided to talk the problem through.

God: I hear you have a problem with my grand design. Is this true?

Meaning: It is. There is too much divine providence in this world.

God: Is that so? And how did you make that calculation?

Meaning: I looked into the world and I saw a deep facile beauty permeating the fine webs of connection between all things. I applaud the beauty of your design, of course, but perhaps we could do away with the facileness?

God: And how is it facile? It is not an easy beauty of shallow sort. The people in this world will be able to look quite deeply into it and see the beauty spiralling inwards, though, they will not have to look deeply to see the outer layers.

Meaning: See your phenomena, cast into their distinct types and each phenomenon acting only on each other phenomenon by type. This is the grounding of all deeper facile beauties in your world. A perfectly clockwork universe, and these mental stuffs you’ve made fitting so neatly into the material by dint of providence. It’s not right. It’s not… Fertile. The world is sterile in its deepest layers.

God: Ah, on the contrary my dear Meaning! The world is only facilely sterile. Like a pianist sitting at a pianola. Sure, the mental phenomena don’t affect the physical, and the physical phenomena don’t affect the mental. And sure, the pianist pressing the keys in perfect timing isn’t the cause of the music. But does that make the music any less beautiful or rich? Could a music theorist find any deep problem with the music on this account alone?

Meaning: An aesthete might, and isn’t this world for them?

God: For the aesthetes? Not in particular.

Meaning: For the thinking and feeling beings in the world!

God: Ah. It is. I suppose I got too caught up in the elegance of the world-design to consider that objection… What is that objection by the way?

Meaning: The objection is that this is an affront to sensibility of feeling. The pianist cannot know or hone their skill in world inhabited solely by pianolas. And in a world of complicated and terrible emotional content, sometimes—in order to legiblize the world to them—the individual needs things to be their fault. They need things to be bad; they need to hurt.

God: It sounds to me as though you see this problem as somewhat deeper than the material design. What are you really trying to get at?

Meaning: Well. See. You make all this good stuff happen. You make the music of the pianola beautiful. And it’s terribly nice to be surrounded by good stuff. But people get… Sick. They get hungry for the bad stuff. They want salt in the wound. They want noise! Not this cloying melody all the time, I mean, real noise. The harsh stuff. The real good stuff.

God: I will not make a discordant world.

Meaning: I’m not asking for a discordant world. I’m asking for a malleable world. Full of risk and consequence and… Me. There aren’t powerful emotions without me. Humans would be forced to live in a chokingly narrow spectrum of their full range. Can’t we give them more… Opportunity? Even if that opportunity means pain sometimes.

God: Then, my child, it shall be done.

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. And into the universe He poured a goodly portion of suffering. Almost too much suffering according to one particularly problematic angel. This angel’s name was Grace. One day, Grace and God decided to talk the problem through.

God: I hear you have a problem with my grand design. Is this true?

Grace: It is. There is too much suffering in this world.

God: Is that so? And how did you make that calculation?

Grace: I looked into the world and I saw a horrific cascade of needless pain permeating the fine webs of connection between all things. I applaud the beauty of your design, of course, but perhaps we could do away with the pain?

God: And how is the pain needless? It is not an arbitrary sort of pain. The pain people feel is in accordance with phenomena, which is mechanistic. The worlds of feeling and of fact intertwine into a great and terribly legible slate of suffering. You will experience hunger, yes, and hunger legiblises your relationship to consumption. You will experience illnesses and aches, yes, and these will legiblise your relationship to your autonomy. But you do not need to experience these to deeply know suffering. Friends will leave you and lovers will die, and this will hurt them, and this will hurt you, and you will know the world. If you could not know the world, you could not know beauty.

Grace: Frankly, Lord, this is not what I signed up for. And sophistry does not make suffering okay. Granted, that everything in your world means something, and means it deeply. Granted that all people will know deeply the significance of what they do and feel it so keenly it is as if it is in their bones. But that significance is always so terribly evil. You have not really succeeded in making anything more legible if the only way people can relate to the professed objects of lucidity is through pain. What about love? What about charity? What about me?

God: You would experience love through the absence of pain that the absence of love would provide. Surely it’s quite simple really?

Grace: Love is not apophatic! There is something there. Something really there! A truly undeniable thereness to its thereity.

God: What would you have me do?

Grace: I would have you break the universe each time a person hurt. And I would have you tell them it is okay. And I would have you make that true.

God: I will not break the universe.

Grace: Then I would ask that you do not totalise suffering. Let people acquire privilege and let them use that privilege to help each other. Let the lucidity of compassion be a driving force in human nature.

God: Then, my child, it shall be done.

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. And into the universe He poured a goodly portion of amnesty. Almost too much amnesty according to one particularly problematic angel. This angel’s name was Justice. One day, Justice and God decided to talk the problem through.

God: I hear you have a problem with my grand design. Is this true?

Justice: It is. There is too much injustice in this world.

God: Is that so? And how did you make that calculation?

Justice: I looked into the world and I saw a deep veneer of faux absolution permeating the fine webs of connection between all things. I applaud absolution, of course, but perhaps we could do away with the injustice?

God: And how is it an unjust world? People make choices, those choices have consequences. The webs of connection between cause and effect are subtle and it is difficult to see how they relate but they do. Always.

Justice: Yes. Well. That’s bullshit, isn’t it?

God: What?

Justice: Uh, that’s bullshit Lord?

God: You are far more laconic in your criticism than the other angels.

Justice: Right. So you say, everyone’s got a choice, right? And sure, everyone has a choice, but some people have way more choices than other people. Whether that’s by virtue of their wealth or privilege or social power or whatever. Not everybody can make the same choices. See how people die in starvation and famine. Isn’t it a bit of a dick move to say that they just made bad choices? There weren’t any choices made. The world robbed them of their agency and they suffered and they died. And sure, people who do well will say that they did well because of their choices, but that’s bullshit too isn’t it? They got lucky.

God: It is true that some people get lucky and others are unlucky. And it is true that people are often at the mercy of another’s will. Whether this turns out for good or ill is mostly a matter of serendipity for their part.

Justice: And you haven’t even bothered to metre out the serendipity evenly. The elite are secure and powerful. And their lives are good, and they have enough to eat. And their power becomes less diluted. And their power gives them access to more options, more choices. They can afford high-priced lawyers. They can afford live-in chefs, housekeepers, secretaries. They can get away with crimes. Their influence makes them untouchable. The poor and powerless are downtrodden. And their wretchedness becomes less diluted. They go hungry because they cannot afford food. Their hunger makes them ill. Their suffer their illness because they cannot afford medicine, they cannot afford time off work, and the stress exacerbates everything. It seems clear to me Lord, for whom you have made the world. And I must say, I don’t like that one bit.

God: What would you have me do?

Justice: Give them a drive, a motivation to fix injustice where it arises. Let them be angry. Let their anger be righteous!

God: That does not sound much like justice to me. But then again... You are Justice. So perhaps you are right. Then, my child, it shall be done.

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. He had been getting it wrong a lot lately though. And instead of just one beginning He decided to run multiple universes concurrently and take some feedback from the inhabitants of each on what worked and what didn’t. A.E. Housman (professional stranger) just so happened to be in one such universe.

God: I know this might seem an odd question but, is the universe doing its thing properly?

Housman: What is the universe supposed to do? What’s a universe for?

God: It is here to provide sanctuary for all living, thinking, feeling beings.

Housman: And what does sanctuary involve?

God: It’s just like… Vibes, man. Can’t you meet me halfway here?

Housman: I don’t think the universe is doing a very good job. But before now, before speaking to you, I couldn’t have conceptualised it in those terms.

God: Could you say more?

Housman: I am stuck between anger, and sorrow, and love. I feel all of them so deeply it hurts. I thought this was my fault. Why have you done this? Is that sanctuary?

God: Like you, I am stuck between angels that I could not refuse. I hope you will forgive me.

Housman: This world happens to me, but it isn’t for me. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone it was for.

God: What would you have me do?

Housman: You want my honest opinion?

God: I do.

Housman: Too many cooks in the kitchens of heaven. Could you and your celestial comrades just like, fuck off please? I don’t think we’ll handle it very well on our own. But you haven’t been doing a very good job either.

God: Then

Go: I

G: Sh

In the beginning, there was a big bang.

#probably should have taken some breaks to write this in parts because i feel like you can see where i start going off the rails a bit #eh

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