#bayou view

[blackxenergy]

Mediterranean Deck

Example of a mid-sized tuscan backyard deck design with a roof extension

#beadboard ceiling #balcony #bayou view #18 x 18 #monochromatic #stucco walls #arched

[simmaster]

my latest true detective season one autism activities have been making a map of louisiana (and a bit of texas) marking off every place the characters are said to have visited and a timeline of everything that happened to them that we have specific years for (some of them aren't from the year being said but from characters saying like "four years ago") which i definitely could have made look a lot less terrible but i was more focused on accuracy than it looking nice maybe i'll remake it idk

#i will never be fully happy with the map because i couldn't find carcosa #they never say where it was they only give hints but none of them line up #my phone and laptop looked like that charlie iasip meme with maps and lists of possible towns and roads and parishes #i didnt even know what a parish was until a couple days ago i know louisiana far better than i ever thought i would #ive been all over it in google maps but a lot of the towns in the bayou have no street view #at one point i genuinely considered writing the showrunner an email asking him to tell me where carcosa is supposed to be #when i say carcosa i mean the place at the end of the show its just more fun to say carcosa #but i had to admit defeat. map forever unfinished </3 #when i told my mother i was making these she looked at me like i was crazy and when i told my dad he got excited and helped me #autistic father son bonding :3 #micah.txt #detectiveposting

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [5]

・❥ You make a deal with Alastor, uh oh?

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

x: i actually enjoy alastor’s room a lot, esp that little pocket dimension he’s got going on. thought we’d take a chapter and play around with it!

~ 6.1k words

When you stepped into Alastor’s room, the last thing you expected to see was the opposite wall divulging into some swampy void of tall, dark trees as fog rolled across the grass. You swore you could even hear the faint sounds of bullfrogs calling across the flooded expanse.

A bayou in the middle of the hotel? Alastor must have done this, no doubt. Stopping just past the threshold to the large room, you pointed a questioning finger towards the swamp. 

“What is that…?” 

“Just a place to test my powers,” Alastor brushed past you, and the soft, orange lights nearby flickered to life as he entered beside you, “Somewhere the consequences of my actions won’t affect the outside world.”

“Consequences?”

“Correct,” Alastor seemed to be enjoying educating you on magic and what he was capable of, as he continued to undo his coat near the doorway as you explored, “The limits of my powers continue to expand, and anyone with a good head on their shoulders would do well to understand the potential risks involved when playing around with demonic forces. This is a sanctuary I can do that without causing chaos inside the hotel… and a quaint little view as well.”

“Is it real?” Your gaze skimmed across old black-and-white photos of demons you didn’t recognize.

“An illusion carefully crafted with years of work. I’ve fine-tuned it to display scenes closest to my memories from before.”

“It must remind you of home,” you said softly, eyes tracing an alligator skeleton nailed to the wall, a string of small, flickering lights snaking around its ribs and up its tail. 

Even if Alastor never mentioned it without a little prodding, it seemed as if his old home on Earth was something he continued to keep close to him. He still had a passion for music, for southern food, and his drive to keep everything the way it was only further displayed his fondness towards his life on earth. What wasn’t there to miss when you’d end up in a place like this for eternity?

“Indeed,” Alastor nodded slowly, and you watched his signature red suit slip slowly down his back. Underneath, a crimson dress shirt shimmered softly in the ambient light. Thin, leather straps hugged tightly across his chest and back, before wrapping around his shoulders for one and down his sides to latch tightly on his dress pants. 

The chest suspenders accentuated his slenderness, shaping the pointish frame of his suit to lovely lines like the noticeable curve of his hips. His thin, feminine waist was as prominent as ever with the straps keeping his shirt nestled tightly against his skin, revealing a more sophisticated figure than what his tuxedo suit had to offer.

Wowie.

You prayed Alastor would turn around to face you, only so you could see how yummy he looked from the front while he placed his signature red coat onto the hanger next to the door. You struggled to keep your eyes up as they traveled farther and farther down his firm back until—

Wait, a second. Was that small, dark red tuft of fur that was nestled against the small of his back, actually what you think it is? 

It jutted out from the top of Alastor’s pants, relaxed against the tight fabric. As the demon walked towards the bookshelf, arm raising towards a vintage radio, it swished cutely behind him. You zoned in on the ball of fluff, mouth slightly agape.

TAIL!

Heat instantly crept onto your cheeks, your fingers twitching, itching to reach forward and wrap your fingers around the plush fur. Alastor’s tail looked as soft as his ears, and that made your face only boil hotter as you imagined how his hair must feel similar. The thought of burying your face in him like a pillow made you smile dopely, before the realization of what you were thinking made you clamp your lips into a thin line.

Smacking a hand over your face, you tried to hide your embarrassment as Alastor moved a few feet further away, completely oblivious to your flustered figure ogling him.

What was wrong with you?! Here you were supposed to be helping him with his wounds but instead you were too busy drooling at how pretty he was!

Alastor’s tail was much more reactive than his ears, and as his fingers fussed with the radio dial, the increasingly audible jazz tune that began to waft through its speakers had that tuft of fur beginning to rise. White peaked from his underfur, as it slowly lifted in a silent expression of pleasure from the demon, as the music began to pour from the radio crystal clear.

You could understand why he was so intent on keeping it hidden underneath his suit. It didn’t seem like Alastor had complete control of his tail, and there was no doubt he saw it as a ‘weakness’ that other powerful demons could use against him somehow.

You thought it was adorable, and somehow, you’d convince Alastor of that too. 

A gentle jazz beat with words you didn’t recognize wafted through the air, as Alastor turned to face you with a satisfied grin. Your eyes instantly shot up to meet his own, but not in time for the demon to notice your strange, heated demeanor and the way you cracked a quick, innocent grin. 

He definitely caught you staring at his ass, and now you had other things to stare at with how snug that leather strap was across his upper body, and the way it seemed to only make his chest puff out even more. You definitely weren’t having a hard time controlling your gaze as Alastor sidled to the desk, a playful glint from his monocle as his eyelids lowered slightly. 

“Find something of interest?” He hummed, cracking a charming smile as he slid his claws gently across the oak desk’s surface, tracing lines downward until he landed at the top drawer. Pulling it open as you averted your gaze, eyes searching for anything of interest.

“Why, yes,” you nodded, putting a hand to your chin in dramatic thought as your attention landed on the bookshelf Alastor had just moved away from, the rows of books on full display, the titles unreadable in the dim light.

“You love to read, unsurprisingly.” You smiled as Alastor pulled a small medical kit from the drawer, turning to face you slowly, “Do you have a preferred genre?” 

“Murder mysteries are a favorite of mine,” He nodded, striding over to the twin vintage cushioned chairs that sat next to the fireplace, “The fear and the adrenaline that spikes through the protagonist as they try to find the killer before the killer finds them, a thrilling hunt from both sides.”

Alastor giggled at that, placing a hand to his mouth as if recalling a fond memory as you slowly joined him next to the fireplace. It flickered with bright green light, licking at the metal railings keeping its size in check as Alastor stood beside the chair, gesturing you to sit.

“You’re the one injured,” you frowned, plopping down into the chair as you took the medical kit from his free hand, “It should be me doing these things for you.” 

“Manners don’t go out the door just because there is blood present, I am still a gentleman,” Alastor replied with a waggle of his finger, before he took a seat near you, his claws tapping against the chair’s arm rhythmically with the jazz music. 

The warmth from the fire had your eyes drooping slightly, exhaustion tickling the back of your scalp. Even though it was technically still early afternoon, almost getting blown up multiple times, meeting the king of Hell who also saved your life, and being in the center of the two power demon’s bickering had drained you. 

Alastor’s room was very serene, the soft jazz lulling you into a tranquility that had you sinking further into the chair. The deep brown, neutral tones of the antique furniture that framed the room, along with the orange lights that flickered softly along the walls were easy on your eyes, and you smiled softly as you unclipped the medical case’s lid and opened it slowly.

With invisible hands, Alastor’s chair moved forward without effort, scraping softly against the dark red carpet beneath before stilling right as his legs were about to brush against your own. Skimming through the contents of bandaids, your attention landed on packaged tiny alcohol wipes and thin white gauze. Placing the two items on your lap, you leaned over and placed the medical kit on a side table nearby. 

Lifting a hand towards Alastor, you beckoned him forward and he slid his fingers into your palm. He leaned forward as you pulled his hand into your lap, one elbow against the arm of the chair, a hand cupping his chin as he watched you tenderly dab his cuts with the alcohol wipe. The smeared blood against his skin was cleaned off as you worked, and Alastor only silently judged you on the strange, affectionate behavior.

Why would you care so much about a few scratches on his hand, when it meant nothing in the long run. It's not like the rose was made out of angelic steel, yet you fretted simply because he could still feel the sting of the thorns on his tender skin.

For any other demon, Alastor would have slapped them across the face with a tentacle for suggesting to look after him in this way. Why would he reveal any kind of weakness to someone who could use it against him, or view him as what, fragile, delicate? That was not something The Radio Demon could have for his image.

Except, your intention was nothing but pure since the first time Alastor had met you. Even Charlie, the sweet and naive woman he’d come to grow fond of, still had her reasons for treating Alastor with great kindness. He was beneficial to her hotel’s success, and as long as he felt welcomed, he’d help her turn her dreams into reality. Since he began climbing the political ladder of Pentagram City, anytime someone wanted his presence was to use him. 

You, on the other hand, had no ulterior motive. Even when you learned from your friend the terrible things they claim Alastor committed, your curiosity and kindness towards him never faltered. 

You had never asked for his help, even going so far as to deny his assistance when it came to putting that snobby boss of yours back in line. Every time the two of you had crossed paths, it had been him initiating the meeting, him making the first moves for you to notice his presence, him seeking you out. 

And now, even seeing Alastor in any kind of vulnerable state, your soft and gentle demeanor didn’t waver, didn’t dull knowing he wasn’t a second-to-none overlord that could take on any threat as he’s so valiantly demonstrated before.

You didn’t value him any less for his injuries, and in truth, your image of him only improved knowing he was just a man in demon form. Someone with insecurities, human emotions like pain and jealousy, and a good eye for flora.

Except, Alastor wished you’d be paying less attention to his grievous wounds, and instead of focusing on the question you were rudely interrupted trying to answer this morning. 

“Come to a decision on your stay at the hotel?” 

Your hands halted in mid-air, the gauze between your fingers while you had been finishing up wrapping his fingers with the white tape. You had been thinking this whole time about different haircuts to subtly introduce Alastor to improve the only slightly lacking feature on his figure.

“Well–I, um, about that…” you started, grimacing at the way the words fell out of your mouth were scrambled under his intense gaze, “I have been thinking, but I mean, there’s a lot to think about. First off, while I believe Charlie really has something going on here with the hotel… I don’t think I fit the criteria.”

“Of course you do!” Alastor chuckled, as if you had just said the silliest thing to have graced his ears, “If a harlot and that slithering simpleton have a chance at leading a virtuous existence, then I'd say the cards are in your hands for that too!” 

You were about to open your mouth, before he leaned back into his chair, slipping his bandaged hand out of your grip and back to his side to inspect it carefully. 

“And, I’m quite confident you could find a more fulfilling job here at the hotel, instead of under that spineless wretch of a man,” Alastor continued, reclining back into the chair as he tilted his head in thought.

“Probably…”

“Not to mention, complimentary room and board? My, you’ve got a very tantalizing offer right in front of you, any sorry bloke off the street would be jumping at the opportunity you’ve been given.”

Was that true? Alastor was really selling this to you, and you reached up a hand to soothingly scratch your neck as you thought. Would it be so bad to stay here? 

Your thoughts from earlier this morning replayed in your head. There wasn’t anything specifically keeping you from denying the offer. You worked a dead-end job around people you were uncomfortable with, the place you were renting was small and falling apart, and you had nobody holding you back. Your friends were there, but weren’t close in your circle. Which kind of meant you didn’t have a circle… except these new demons at the hotel. You were warming up to them, and they weren’t too bad.

Did you really have a shot at redemption? Were you worthy of eternal happiness?

What if having such made you a laughingstock, what if joining these people made you a target of Heaven? That wouldn’t be good, and you were a nobody with no power that 

“Al…” You sighed with a groan, placing your head into your hands. Why did you have to be so indecisive?!

“Why don’t we make a deal?” Alastor's smile cracked wider, the curves of his lips becoming sharper as an unreadable expression crossed his eyes.

“A deal?”

“Just a simple thing,” He smiled innocently, leaning  “No contract or handshake necessary, I believe you are trustworthy to hold up your end with just words.”

God, he was super close to you now, practically nose to nose as he looked at you expectantly. A playful glint shimmered in his red monocle, and your breath hitched at his proximity. 

“What kind of deal?” You finally whispered, heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“You want to learn my interests, want a peek into my life above, hm?” He inched closer to you, smile widening as you leaned backward, “If I take you directly to the source, show you life as I lived it, then you must move to the hotel and stay for one month.”

‘Source’? What did he mean by that? And, if you agreed, you had to stay for a month? But, he was going to open himself up and share his past life with you, which meant a lot to you. 

His eyelids lowered again, something you had noticed earlier when he caught your ogling. Were they lowered in amusement? Some amateurs attempt at bedroom eyes? You could hardly think straight with how close he was to you, a hundred routes of where things could go next skimming through your mind.

Maybe that was just a delusion of yours, wanting Alastor to show more interest than just pretty flowers and a ring that he seemed to sport on you just for show. You barely knew the man, but his kindness and, oh, and that voice… you were just so impatient.

Alastor wasn’t a big physical romantic, you could tell. Which meant you needed to take things slow, respect his space and his pace. He flustered so easily when you complimented him, obviously new to the whole romantic thing in general, and that only made you want to do it again.

Which meant, it would be you that would have to make some moves this time. Even if they were small, it seemed any act of affection would send the deer demon into a tizzy. A kiss on the cheek? Too brazen. A flower crown for his antlers? A little too cottage-girly for him, perhaps.

“I enjoy your excitement at my proposition,” Alastor broke you from your thoughts, as he smiled widely at your dopey expression again, “But I’ll need you to agree with words, darling.”

You really needed to learn to keep your facial expressions in check, it was embarrassing how easily Alastor had been able to catch you mid-daydream so easily. 

“...Okay.” You finally whisper, and energy crackles inside the room right as the words leave your lips.

“Wonderful!” Alastor beamed, rising from the chair in one smooth motion, his good hand wrapping around your forearm suddenly before pulling you up beside him.

Blinking, you felt him slip an arm around yours before tugging you across the room. The jazz from the radio seemed to increase in volume the closer the two of you stepped closer to the pocket dimension a few feet away.

You halted right at the edge, the croaking from the frogs, and distant calls of the owl grew louder as you lifted your head towards the looming trees. The sky was starless, a large, dark blue shadow masking the scene at night as the fireflies danced. What was Alastor planning?

“Just a moment, I need to grab my cane,” he left your side, walking back to the fireplace as your gaze stayed frozen on the swampy atmosphere ahead. 

You leaned forward, trying to get a better look around the weird little pocket-dimension. Even the air inside changed, you could practically taste the humidity in the air as it began to stick to your forehead.

Did the grass still feel like grass, even in a powerful illusion like this? You had no idea Alastor was capable of this kind of magic, especially such vivid scenery. Slowly, you lifted a foot over where brown wood melted into greenery, still hesitant to touch the strange grass.

You held a breath as you crossed the threshold, the sounds of grass crunching beneath as you walked into the wetland. You could feel the water in the soil squelching as you walked slowly, towards nowhere in particular as you twisted your head at the unfamiliar area. 

Thick, swampy vines curled around large trunks and snaked into deep, mucky waters. The way was illuminated by the flickering bodies of fireflies as they danced almost rhythmically to the soft jazz in the background. Sometimes, the surface of the water nearby would ripple, and you swore the shadow of a long body of something stalking underneath the surface passed right next to you.

When you turned to face the line of trees in the distance, two pairs of glowing, yellow eyes met yours. A silhouette of a four-legged creature, tall with branching antlers that tickled at the leaves above its head. The two of you locked eyes for a few moments, and you opened your mouth slightly in awe as it stood elegantly before you.

“My, you are quite a wanderer!” A chipper voice exclaimed behind you, and you pivoted with a yelp to face the static-laced voice smiling softly toward you.

“This place is really amazing,” you laughed, twisting your head to find the buck had disappeared, “It actually feels like we’re back on Earth, almost.”

“It gets better,” Alastor hummed beside you, extending a hand that you accepted with gentle fingers as he grasped you softly.

“Well, how do I look?” He leaned closer to you, puffing his chest slightly as you skimmed across his pretty figure.

Your hands tentatively lifted to adjust the slightly angled black bowtie near his collar, and Alastor only watched you carefully as you fixed it back into place. 

“Perfect,” you sang with a smile, and he mimicked your expression with glee.

“Always a charm, my doe.” Alastor winked, before he slid his arm through yours once more and stood shoulder-to-shoulder beside you. 

His smile was playful, as he glanced at you standing tense beside him. You had a sneaking suspicion he was going to teleport you again, or do something magically stomach-twisting that had you wishing for a paper bag on the side.

“Now, close your eyes…” 

You followed his instruction, squeezing them shut with a deep breath.

You barely had time to exhale before the wind around you turned to a deathly chill, and the humidity was zapped from the air as that familiar feeling of weightlessness had you tightening your hold on Alastor.

You felt him shifting beside you, although you couldn’t imagine into what as your eyes stayed shut tight, cold gripping at your shoulders. It felt like the ground was alive, transforming right beneath you with barely a tremble as you held your breath tightly. 

Then, your ears popped and you felt the grass beneath your feet shift to firm, rocky pavement. There was music, jazz again, but this time the words were audible as women's voices sang with the bumping rhythm. 

‘I’m just a little Jackie Horner,’

‘Since I met my sugar cane,’ 

“Are you going to keep your eyes shut the entire time?” Alastor prodded beside you, his tone laced with amusement as you relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice. 

Taking a deep breath, you crack an eyelid, the darkened atmosphere easy on your vision as you slowly open your eyes to reveal a scene straight out of a history book. 

You were standing in the middle of a cracked, paved road, illuminated by a stretch of tall lamps that cast warm orange tones across the street. Buildings with tall shutters for windows beckoned an invisible finger for you to follow, as spicy, southern food hit your nostrils and the sounds of riled entertainment reached your ears.

‘I left a light lamp on that old corner,’

‘For the moon in lover’s lane,’ 

They all held porches that spanned the entire front of the house-sized buildings. Darkened, silhouetted figures laughed above your head, as you stood there in awe. 

There were a few cars parked on the sides of the street, with thin, flimsy wheels reminding you of distant times when vehicles were just starting to reach the public eye. 

It really felt like you had stepped into the past, everything reminisced to a world before TVs, social media, and WiFi. When newspapers and radios ruled supreme, people came together and danced on the streets instead of dancing behind the camera on silly apps. 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

“Welcome to New Orleans in Roarin’ Twenties!” Alastor beamed beside you, gesturing to the long row of storefronts, the air humming with lively energy and pulsing with vibrant rhythms of tunes long forgotten. 

You jumped at the sound of a baritone horn blaring from beside you. A steamboat filled with flickering lights and singing, boisterous voices chugged past you, its large wheel churning as water cascaded from the paddles. 

A figure turned to you, masked in shadows before they raised an arm and waved across the water towards you. Your lips curved wider with a smile, before lifting a cautious hand and returning the gesture.

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

You felt someone bump into your shoulder, another one of those mysterious figures that filled the street. 

“‘Scuse me, miss,” the stranger tipped his hat apologetically to you, bowing slightly as he brushed by.

‘So I never take her where the gang goes,’ 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’

You twisted your head to finally get a good look at the strangers around you, before your eyes widened at the sight of a doll-like man, his mouth sewn into a wide smile. Black buttons glinted at you from where his eyes should have been, as the man placed his hat back on and turned away. 

You didn’t have time to process the sight before Alastor was pulling you down the street, a live band played outside one bar, the paint mashing keys to a much faster rhythm as two women swung each other across the sidewalk with laughter and the clicking of heels. 

Alastor pulled you along until the two of you stopped at a bakery storefront. Shadowed puppets flowed around you, as your eyes landed on a steaming plate of deep-fried goodness sitting patiently on a table right outside the doorway. 

“Beignets,” He hummed, handing you a pastry, “A cultural classic in these parts.”

‘I’m a rowdy dowdy, that’s me,’

It reminded you of a tiny pillow, sugar coating its surface as you squished the crunchy delicacy before lifting it to your lips.

Taking a bite, the warmth of the bread bloomed across your body as the food traveled down your throat. Your tongue reached out to swipe at the leftover sugar hanging on your lips, as you smiled with pleasure. 

‘She’s a high hat baby, that’s she,’

Alastor only watched you with a soft expression, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you fill your mouth.

“You seem to be enjoying that,” he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth still partially occupied by the delicious treat. “It’s amazing! I’ve never tasted anything like it before,” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pastry.

“Well, there’s a lot of things you have yet to experience, my doe!” He sang, before tugging you along with a static-laced chuckle.

As the two of you strolled down the bustling street, your eyes caught a small crowd surrounding a man in a tall, black hat as he smiled charmingly at the audience.

The magician, dressed in a dapper suit adorned with intricate patterns, stood before a small crowd, his hands moving with precision and finesse as he dazzled onlookers with his feats of magic.

Curiosity piqued, you and Alastor paused to watch the spectacle unfold. The magician’s fingers danced across a deck of cards with effortless grace, manipulating them in ways that seemed impossible. Cards vanished into thin air only to reappear in unexpected places, leaving the crowd gasping in amazement.

Alastor only glanced at you unamusingly, and you laughed softly at his facial expression. Magic card tricks were nothing in comparison to what he was capable of, and you were sure he could wow this illusionary crowd in a heartbeat.

The two of you turned, halfway down the street now, as Alastor pointed at a few different sights. He even introduced you to instruments you’d never heard of before as the two of you continued on. 

“Have you ever performed?” You turned to him, another southern treat in your hand as you kept pace underneath the gas-lit lamps above. 

“On the streets? No, not like this,” Alastor shook his head, his nails clicking against his cane rhythmically with the music wafting from a bar nearby as the two of you stood near the edge of the river. 

You had gotten your hands on a small cup of Duchess Potatoes, a light, creamier version of the classic spud. Placing a small spoonful in your mouth, you swirled the flavors across your taste buds as you watched Alastor stare out at the open expanse of water.

“Once in a while, I’d stop at an old friend of mine’s jazz club, and on the nights I had a few extra drinks in my system, I'd lend my voice to the flappers as they danced.” 

“That sounds like fun!”

“It was,” He nodded, recounting the memories with amusement, “Mimzy would always tease me that I'd make better use as a flapper than a radio host. Sometimes, I think about life if I would have 

You laughed softly, imagining such a scene of Alastor dancing in a high skirt and fishnets. 

It wasn’t until the doors to a bar at the end of the street burst open, and large instruments were dragged through the threshold and out into the streets. Men gathered, readying their musical weapons for another nightly show as onlookers turned their attention to them. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked with a large, devilish smile as he turned to face the small crowd gathering. Couples glided in, teasing each other as they paired around the pianist and his band of stringed instruments. You watched his ears twitch slightly, twisting towards the rising noises.

“It looks like they are all going to dance!” You replied next to him, and Alastor turned to see interest gleaming in your gaze. He watched you for a few moments, before his crimson eyes landed on a trolly that was moving its way down the large street and towards the band.

You felt fingers lace around your wrist, and the gentle tugging from beside you as you met Alastor’s mischievous gaze.

“Let’s make sure we don’t miss it, then!” He winked, before he pulled you towards the lumbering vehicle. 

With wide eyes, you watched Alastor take a running start and gracefully leap onto the back of the trolley, hanging tightly to the railing as he beckoned for you to join.

You watched for a moment, before taking a deep breath and running to catch up with the trolly. Laughing, you reached out a hand to grasp Alastor’s as you closed in on the back of the vehicle.

You felt a sizzle of magic drag you an inch forward, and your fingers laced with Alastor’s as he pulled you beside him. He snaked one hand securely around your waist as you leaned out from the side of the vehicle, the wind whipping against your face as you watched the street lights flicker past. 

“I used to time myself on how fast I could make it on,” Alastor’s voice broke you from your awe, and you turned your head to meet his gaze, “I’m not sure if I've improved since my younger days.” 

You only smiled softly, the proximity of his touch hot on your mind, but you didn’t speak a word as the trolley continued on its path, the bar’s lights flashing with life as you beelined towards it. 

The trolley was fast, as it sped by the large steamboat, which honked as if in greeting to the passing vehicle. The trolley replied with a jingle of its own, before the boat disappeared farther down the river.

The trolley began to slow a few feet from the band, which you were thankful for, unsure if you had the physical form to tuck and roll successfully had you needed to make a quick exit.

Alastor landed on the pavement with a thump, twisting his grip so he could help you down with both hands firmly placed at your sides. 

“Let’s hurry before we miss it!” He sang, before pulling you along towards the crowd. The pianist thrummed the keys, inciting the dancers to twirl faster and they were lost in a hypnotic bustle of bodies fluidly maneuvering against each other. The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed along with the drumming beat, twisting in a tune of its own creation as you and Alastor moved closer.

But, why did it look like he was going to pull you in the center? Weren’t the two of you just going to stand back and watch? 

You didn’t have time to answer your own questions before you were in the center of the dancing couples. You froze with the spotlight on you, the jazz ringing in your ears as your shoulders softly pumped to the music.

Alastor took your hands carefully, his legs beginning to move in practiced motion as you stood there awkwardly.

“I can’t dance!” You squeaked. 

“It’s the Charleston, darling!” His voice cut through the romping rhythm, sending you a charming grin as he began to move his feet, “It’s not too hard, just follow my lead!” 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves as you focused on Alastor’s movements. His feet moved with precision and fluidity, his body swaying effortlessly to the beat of the music. You tried to mimic his steps, clumsily at first, but with each passing moment, you found yourself growing more confident as you fell into sync with his rhythm.

As the music swirled around you, you lost yourself in the dance, allowing Alastor to guide you with gentle precision. His hands were warm and reassuring against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you moved together in perfect harmony.

The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed in time with the drumming beat, creating a hypnotic melody that seemed to envelop you in its embrace. The world around you faded away as you focused solely on the dance.

With each step, each turn, you felt yourself letting go of your inhibitions, allowing the music to flow through you like a river. You spun and twirled with glee, lost in the intoxicating energy of the moment, a smile spreading across your face as laughter bubbled up from deep within your chest.

As the song reached its climax, you and Alastor moved as one, your bodies intertwined in a symphony of movement and sound. In that fleeting moment, there was no past or future, no worries or doubts – there was only the here and now, the exhilarating rush of the dance, and the feeling of Alastor’s touch against your skin. 

As the music faded into the night, you found yourself breathless and exhilarated, your cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement. You turned to Alastor with a grin, your eyes shining with newfound confidence.

“I can’t believe I just did that!” You exclaimed, the thrill of the dance still coursing through your veins. Alastor chuckled softly, his gaze warm and affectionate as he tilted his head towards you. 

“You were marvelous, my dear,” he replied, his voice filled with pride. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone as extraordinary as you.”

You returned the smile, a breathless laugh escaping your lips as you swayed next to him. The music was beginning to die, the scene slowly falling away as the grass began to replace the tiled, stone pavement under your feet. 

Never did you imagine you’d find yourself dancing near glistening waters, eating the delicacies that the human world once had to offer. 

Never did you imagine, Alastor would be such a good dancer! And, dancing with you, no less! 

“I think my hunger for information has been quenched, for now,” you smiled playfully, eyes locked onto Alastor as the world around you shifted. 

“Good,” Alastor smiled satisfactorily, before a mischievous glint reflected through his monocle, “Now… I believe it's time to hold up your end of the deal.” 

Right. The part where you had to move into the hotel. One month. Not a year, not forever, just one month. Couldn’t you decide by then? 

Yes, you could. You could come to a decision now, honestly, but something else was itching at the back of your mind. An act of affection that would no doubt get a reaction from the demon in front of you. 

“I think you’re onto something…” You nodded slowly, pulling Alastor's hand toward you with a sly smile.

Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed at your behavior, as his fingers lifted closer and closer towards your lips. 

With gentle reverence, you pressed a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, your lips lingering against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. Alastor’s breath caught in his throat, a startled look crossing his features as he watched you with wide eyes.

Finally, the roles had reversed. 

For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still as you held his hand in yours, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The touch of your lips against his skin sent a fire igniting inside Alastor, one he was struggling to contain. 

A flush of color spread across his cheeks, a rare display of vulnerability that took you by surprise. His usual composed demeanor faltered for just a moment, revealing the depth of emotion hidden beneath the surface.

“Y-you…” Alastor stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched for the right words. But before he could find them, he was interrupted by the sound of laughter echoing in the distance, the moment broken by the world slowly shifting around you.

Clearing his throat and regaining his composure, Alastor withdrew his hand from yours with careful movements. 

“Well, I suppose we should be getting your things,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. But the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed the lingering effects of your gesture.

Behind him, the fireplace illuminated the non-magical side of Alastor’s room, the vintage clock displaying arms that had barely moved an inch since you left on your little adventure. 

“Seems so,” you replied with a honeyed tone, batting your eyelashes at him as he adjusted his bowtie with clumsy fingers.

If you had looked down while flustering the poor man, you’d have noticed his tail high, white fur on full display behind him. Instead, you brushed past him and back into the confines of normalcy.

awwww man, we made it, alastor finally has his girl staying at the hotel! and a lil kissy kiss :3

i hope you guys could understand what was going on lmao i spent like an hour or two looking up pictures of new orleans, southern food, and steamboats 😂

thank you with your patience on this part, have a great day! 🤍

tags 1/2 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie @luujjvi @amoraneuro @kimmikreates

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hellaverse

[zealousllamawolf]

Lost in the Woods (Alastor x Reader) Part 2

!!Minors Please DNI!!

Pairing- Alastor x Reader

Summary- After having a heated moment before someone interrupts Alastor eagerly comes back to show you what you had missed.

Word Count- 1.7K

Warnings- none I think

Tags- SMUT, blood sharing, rough sex, p in v, oral (Alastor receiving) OOC Alastor if you blink.

Part 1

~Alastor’s POV~

  Alastor scuffs as he pulls Nifty out of the ice machine behind that bar sitting her down, wiping the ice flakes off her nose. “There you go dear’ he wipes his hands on his coat, turning to look at Charlie. “Now, was all you need darling,’ a hint of annoyance bubbled over, eager to return to your disheveled body in the bayou.

  “Yes, sorry about that,” Charlie shuffles awkwardly at his impatience.

  ‘’You know how Nifty is, who knows what bug she went after.” Alastor chuckles patting Nifty on the head, lighting up his tone. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I have business to attend to” he smiles mischievously as he disappears back into the shadows moving through them to his room.

  Desire once returning to his crotch stretching the fabric tautly, clearing his throat once he remembers the feeling of your cunt under in fingers, wondering if you were wet below the thin barrier of clothes. Alastor decision to leave his shadow to watch over you paid off; there you were stripping off your clothes down to just your undergarments as he watched though his shadow’s eyes. You make your way over the pond’s dock before sticking your foot in the water seemly to evaluate the temperature.

  Once Alastor reaches his room, he teleported to the edge of the pond near the dock behind you. Taking in your figure though half-lidded eyes his stare trails up and down your body stopping around your plump backside before noticing a large thin scar that trailed around your waist following the curve of your hip before stopping above your lower back. You were perfect, he thought to himself grinning lustfully.

  “My, my dear, it seems you have made yourself quite comfortable” his voice dropping lowly, you jump and lose your balance tipping backwards into the water. Alastor rushes forward, dropping to his knees he peers over the edge waiting for you to break the surface for air, when you didn’t come back up after a long thirty seconds the duckweed blocking his view under the water Alastor quickly stands up and throw off his coat off, kicking off his shoes unbuttoning his shirt before scanning the water’s surface again. He leans down again over the dock’s edge as your faces pops up under a lily pad hiding underneath staring up at Alastor grinning.

“Oh, you checky girl.” Alastor says breathlessly hanging his head lowly in relief, the tension leaving his shoulders. Why did he feel such a need to dive in the water after you? He wanted to protect you, keeping you all to himself, wanted to mark you and show everyone you were his and his only. Anger starter to rise unable to catch his breath, he pants out “Never do that again,’ wincing at his sharp tone he adds, “Please,’ softly.

He watches you swim up to him resting your arms on the dock you grab his arm reassuringly, “Okay, I won’t if you come in here with me” you say pushing yourself up enough out of the water and plant a soft kiss on his cheek before trailing kisses down his jawline, Alastor growls in response hastily shedding his shirt and pants. A night swim is a bad idea anyways, Alastor indulges.

 He sits down with his feet over the edge before slipping in the lukewarm water completely submerging himself even though he can touch the bottom. He feels his shoulder being yanked up by your hands, so he abides rising himself up out the water, directly in front of you. You wrap your hands around his shoulders and link your legs around his waist. Alastor groans at the sudden pressure pressing against his crotch and bring his hands to your hips noticing your panties were no longer on your bottom as well as your bare chest pressing against his, in the distance he sees your undergarments floating at the surface.

 “Ha, ha so eager little doe.” Alastor says as he runs his hands to your ass cheeks gripping them tightly. You throw back your head grinding against his hardening cock. “But patience is a virtue,’ he says teasing.

  Alastor twists around with you still connected at the hips. He pushes further into the water on his back, the movement sliding his length down your uncovered core making you moan at the friction. Resting your hands on his chest you arch your back allowing him to see your breasts peeking up out of the water duckweed sticking to your upper half.

  “But Alastor, I need you,’ you say pleadingly.

  “Oh, forgive me but I thought we were taking a nice night swim?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, making you frown in desperation, Alastor gins enjoying teasing you knowing he will not be able to hold out much longer as his cock twitches with desire.

  You lean down and plant a feverish kiss directly on his, sliding your tongue on his bottom lip tasting a hint a blood from his fresh cut lip. The heat from your kiss snaps something in Alastor and in an instant, he teleports both of you to the closest tree, pushing you against the trunk. He deepens the kiss exploring your mouth feeling one of your sharp canines nick his bottom lip making you kiss him more intensity. Alastor pulls back with a low groan.

  “You know idea what you are doing to me my dear,” Alastor says breathless shuddering when you run your fingers through his hair gripping at the root making him suck in a breath.

  “S-show me, Al” you beg grinding on his cock.

  “It hurts that you assume I would give in that quickly silly girl.” Alastor lies slickly through his teeth, chuckling when you pout at him although it does not last too long before you unwrap your legs from his waist and start to get on your knees running your hands down his chest as you meet the ground stopping when you reach his hips. “So perfect,’ he whispers when you start to pull down his briefs.

  You look up with pleading eyes “May I sir?” his cock twitched at being called ‘sir,’ he runs his thumb on your cheekbone glowing down at you and nods.

  He used his spare arm and rest it against the tree letting out a moan as you free his throbbing cock, the cool air cooling his precum that started to gather at his aching red tip. He watches as you stare hungrily at his length groaning as your mouth encases his tip, sliding down taking him inch by inch till your mouth takes all of him.

  “So sweet of you taking my cock like a good girl.” Alastor gasps as you pull him out of your mouth twirling your tongue around his tip before diving back down again picking up speed, moaning sends vibrations all around his cock, resulting in him thrusting into to your mouth going past the curve of your throat. “Mmh, you make me feel so good darling,” you look up at him unable to say anything as he gently thrusts into your mouth tears forming in your eyes. You slide him out of your mouth with a pop.

 “Are you going to show me now how much I make you feel good now?” you ask cheekily, Alastor respond by picking you back up like you weighed nothing, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist again, teasing you with his tip lined up with your dripping entrance. Aching your back made his tip slip in making you moan at the sensation; you try to lower yourself further on to his cock but his firm hands stops you. You look at him with a crazed face, but he just stares at you grinning maliciously before thrusting into you with such force making you release all the air from your lungs. You gasp unable to catch your breath as he does not stop before pulling out of you, slamming back into your gummy walls. “O-oh God,” you shudder.

  “No dear its only me here and me only making you feel this way.” Alastor starts roughing fucking you into the tree. He does not stop there, forcing your legs higher pressing them against your chest, all that was holding you up now was your back firmly pressed against the tree and the pace he thrusted into you. Every time he pulls out, his tip pressed against your g-spot making waves of pleasure course though your body, he feels your walls clamp around his cock. Alastor changes his angle until he hits the right spot making you moan his name, hearing his name come out of your swollen lip makes him go feral, the coil in his stomach tightens further, he knows your close too when your legs start to push against his hands.

  “Just like that Alastor, please” you beg tears falling down your face, your whole body tightens, and he hears you scream his name as your release floods your body, your walls spasming around his cock.

  “Almost there little doe.” He growls picking up his pace to unnatural pace chasing his own high.

  “C-can I bite you?” you say fixed gaze at his neck.

  “Yes, dear take your fill” you don’t wait till be finished speaking as your bit down hard at the curve of this throat, making his groan in pain, the sensation spread though his body right down to his cock, with one last trust he finishes inside of you panting. You do not stop your assault running your tongue against the wound you created until the blood stopped flowing freely.

  Pulling back both of you panting with his cock still buried deep in your cunt. He pulls out, his seed pouring out of your elevated cunt. You close your eyes as he carries you to his bedroom, he whispers pressing his mouth to your ear, “You did so well, but now it time for you to rest. You have a very busy night ahead of you.” He says softly.

  That was the last thing you hear before falling asleep in his arms. Alastor sighs contently with you sleeping on his chest, he slowly traced your faded scar wondering what happened.

~~~

A/N

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

____________________________________________________

Tag List

@cutesytwt @opulentshits @elegant-face-tree @walnutnut @lustylita

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel radio demon #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x y/n

[theneighborhoodsave]

Willow Creek Map Key

Crawdad Quarter

Willow Historical Society & streetcar depot- History Museum

Ellington's Jazz Lounge- Live music lounge

Ally's Boutique Salon- Salon, spa and clothing shop

Bayou Sentinel & Antiques- Local newspaper office, archives and thriftea shop

Magnolia Municipal Park- Local park, family splash park and Krazy Kajun food stand

Foundry Cove

YSAC (Young Sims Activity Center)- Community Center

Crick Convenience & Drug- 24 hour convenience store

20-24 Foundry Dr.

25 Foundry Dr.

26 Foundry Dr.

Courtyard Lane

Firehouse Vet & Pet Park- Veterinarian's office & pet training gym

Laissez Terrace- Bohemian Bean Cafe, 5 apartments and 738 Courtyard Ln.

731 Courtyard Ln.

732-734 Courtyard Ln.

733 Courtyard Ln.

Pendula View

Quiet Voices Memorial- Cemetery, speakeasy and nightclub

Lakeside Manor

Leonard-Montgomery House

Magnolia Estate

Sage Estates

Mariner's Outlook

Sage Beach Community- Shore House, Sea Esta, Ocean Pearl, Second Wind

#neighborhood save #the neighborhood save #sims 4 #ts4 #sims community #ts4 simblr #simblr #ts4 build #sims build #sims save file #sims map #save file progress #save file #ts4 builds #the sims #ts4 save file #ts4 willow creek #willow creek

[mousy-nona]

Prompt. Alastor hits deer mating season and tries not to let anyone know, but Lucifer finds out.

Obligatory warning: It's a mating prompt. There's going to be EXPLICIT SCENES.

“Do you smell that?” 

Husk sniffed the air delicately, then shook his head. “Nothing but Angel Dust’s normal B.O.”

Angel Dust purred. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.” 

The cat rolled his eyes and turned back towards the bar, but not before Lucifer caught the rare smile he reserved for Angel Dust curving on the corners of his lips. 

“Do you seriously not smell that?” Lucifer asked, puzzled. The scent was growing stronger by the second, so rich and heavy it seemed to hang in the air. Musky, woody, with a spicy sharpness to it, like crushed pine needles and orange blossoms. There was something else to it though – something that Lucifer couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it filled his head like an opium cloud. His thoughts felt slow, like molasses in winter. 

His body was a different story. Every time he breathed in, a tingle of electricity ran through him. His fingers were trembling, and his skin felt too tight and a little numb at the same time. 

Am I being drugged?

He was just about to excuse himself when Alastor came rushing around the corner. He was moving fast, as if he was being chased by a pack of wolves, and muttering something to himself like a lunatic. He didn’t see Lucifer until it was too late, and they collided into each other so hard the impact sent them both tumbling to the ground. 

“Ouch! Clean up on aisle four!” Angel Dust crowed. 

“Shut up.” Alastor’s voice was distorted, as if it had been spliced into four. He sounded strained, his throat clenched. 

The scent was unbelievably strong now. Lucifer’s head swam with it. On autopilot, he picked himself up off the ground and extended a hand towards Alastor to help him up. Alastor moved to swat it away, but the second their hands touched, it was like a sonic blast ripped through the hotel. Lucifer’s world went numb, flexed and narrowed in on one thing, and one thing only: Alastor. A bolt of lightning ran up his arm, through his chest, down his legs, and pooled underneath his belt. His legs went weak with need. 

Alastor, for his part, didn’t seem much better off. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his chest heaving as his breathing stuttered. He was staring at Lucifer as if he was a ghost. 

And then something shifted. His eyes went blank, and Alastor – the Alastor Lucifer knew, at least – flickered out of view as something else, something infinitely hungrier and far more desperate, took over. 

Alastor snarled and leapt forward, grabbing Lucifer by the neck. People were shouting something behind them, but Lucifer couldn’t hear them, couldn’t see them over the thick fog of musk and wood rolling off of Alastor. 

Shadows swallowed them whole, and spat them back out in a dark bayou, lit only by the weak light of the stars and the moon twinkling high above.

“Where–?”

But Alastor wasn’t listening. His sharp claws ripped Lucifer’s shirt and coat into shreds in a matter of seconds, his red eyes gleaming with a hazy madness. 

Lucifer forced himself to shake off some of that beguiling smell. It was telling him to relax, to give in. It urged him to thread his hands through Alastor’s gorgeous hair, to stroke his antlers, to finally admit to his deepest, most shameful desire – that he had always wondered what Alastor might taste like.

But he still didn’t know what the hell was going on. 

“What – Alastor, wait – slow down!” He pushed Alastor back with a blast of angelic grace. Alastor hissed, his eyes still crazed with need, and came for him again. This time, Lucifer grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him into a nearby spring. 

Alastor spluttered as he surfaced, shaking some of the water off his head. “What the hell was that for?” His voice was still distorted, but at least he was using his words again. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Lucifer demanded. 

Alastor pulled himself out of the spring and flung his drenched coat off with a bitter grumble, revealing his bare forearms and – to Lucifer’s endless delight – a little tuft of a tail. In the gentle light of the moon, Lucifer could see every ripple of his toned abs, every flex of his broad chest beneath the wet shirt that clung to him like a second skin.

The hazy smell grew stronger. Breathe through it. Don’t lose control. “What did you say?”

“It's my mating season,” Alastor snarled, meeting his eyes again. There was something hypnotic in their scarlet gleam. Lucifer found himself taking a step forward before he caught himself. “Every couple of years, my pheromones go into overdrive. I – no, my body – sends out signals to any potential mates. I usually wait it out.” He shuddered, his jaw flexing. “It’s never found anyone before.” 

A sizzle of pride and pure, clean joy cut through the haze filling Lucifer’s brain. So Alastor had never done this with anyone before? 

(Was he special?)

“So what are you saying – that you’re horny?” 

Alastor blurred – and suddenly he was in front of him, ripping the rest of Lucifer’s tattered shirt from his body. He yelped, but Alastor ignored him. 

“If that’s how you want to think about it,” he growled, then he dug his teeth into the crook of Lucifer’s neck. 

A jolt of intense pain that turned into searing pleasure roared through Lucifer. As if in a trance, he grabbed one of Alastor’s antlers and wound his other hand into the softness of his hair. Then he pulled, hard, forcing Alastor to let go with an audible hiss. 

“None of that,” he snapped.

Alastor grinned, and it was sharp enough to cut him to the core. “No need to play coy with me, your Majesty. The thing about these pheromones – they work both ways. And they never work on the unwilling.” 

The quick flash of heat (shameshameshame) was invitation enough for Alastor to pounce again. He rid Lucifer of his belt and his pants just as quickly as he did his shirt. Lucifer, not to be outdone, showed Alastor he had a pair of claws on his own and slashed Alastor’s entire outfit in half with one slice of his nail. It wasn’t a clean cut – a thin line of red welled up on Alastor’s chest, his stomach, and his right thigh. 

Lucifer was about to apologize, but the words died in his throat when Alastor dipped his finger into his own blood and sucked it clean.

“Want to try?” He asked in his trademark sing-song. 

Lucifer surged forward. Their mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongue, and Lucifer felt himself go even harder at the dark taste of spice and sin on his lips. 

“You drive me crazy,” he whispered when they broke apart. 

“My dear, I am crazy,” Alastor chuckled. “What did you expect?” 

Then Lucifer grazed his upper thigh, perilously close to his dick, and Alastor cut himself off with a gasp. That strange need clouded his eyes, and once again, Alastor’s primal self took over. He roared, pushing Lucifer onto the ground, their bare legs tangling as he pushed his hand between their legs. 

The haze swirled, that sweet, opium smell wiping out the rest of Lucifer’s good sense as Alastor gripped his naked cock with his claws. He groaned, lifting his hips obligingly towards the deer to give him a better angle. That groan turned into a cry when he felt Alastor smearing his own precum on the head of his dick and pushing it against his entrance. 

More, his heart thudded. More. More. 

He must have been saying it out loud without realizing it, because Alastor grinned. “As you wish.” 

Then he pushed in. Lucifer screamed as he felt Alastor’s hardness invading him, penetrating him, stretching him to the limit. But with it, he felt the bond between them swell, take on a new shape. The hatred was still there, yes, but there was something else now too. 

And through it all, the same sentence kept running over and over in his fevered brain: Alastor’s never taken another mate.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, his back arching as he let loose a low moan. His body was shaking, and his hips were moving as if he was a man possessed. That smell was thick in the air, drugging them both as the pleasure washed over them, coming faster and faster until finally –

The explosion that ripped through Lucifer was like nothing he had ever felt before. He had been there for the birth of the cosmos, for the first steps of mankind, for everything that had come before and that would come after. He had thought he had experienced all the firsts in the world. 

But this…

He clutched Alastor, who was still trembling from the force of the release. Unlike Lucifer, who was basking in the afterglow, he looked…unsure of himself. Now that the pressing drive of the mating call had disappeared, he looked lost, as if he’d been dumped in the middle of a strange land with no map and no compass. 

“Don’t go,” Lucifer whispered, eyeing the strange shadows that were bubbling by his feet. “Stay here with me.”

Alastor wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Lucifer didn’t make him. But he did hold his hand. 

“We can work it out together. Just stay.”

Alastor didn’t say anything. But the shadows disappeared, and the two of them sat in the stillness and the quiet of the bayou.

He didn’t let go of his hand.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor #radioapple #my google search history wants me to find jesus #try googling “deer mating signs” without feeling weird #duckiedeer #alastor x lucifer #prompts #asks

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The Deal with Niffty; 1 Year Anniversary

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[Part 2 with Niffty, word count 1446, Cw: bug genocide none]

———————

You counted the days, double checking on the Scenic Hell calendar pinned up in the kitchen. You didn’t mention anything until that evening; Niffty was literally underfoot all day. “Tomorrow will be one year from when you made the deal with Niffty, cher.”

Alastor paused in his nightly routine, counting in his head. “I suppose it is. Ah, how the time flies.”

“We should do something, celebrate a little.”

Your husband gave you a questioning smile in the reflection of your vanity mirror. “We’ve never done that for any other Sinner.”

“We haven’t had any other Sinner chase you for weeks to make a deal,” you pointed out logically. “But she is yours, Alastor, it’s up to you.” He hummed noncommittally as two of you settled in for the night.

In the morning, you woke to a warm buttery smell and the hiss of a hot pan. Alastor, wearing a black apron, was making hotcakes and sausages. Niffty, still dressed in her nightgown and rubbing sleep from her eye, wandered into the kitchen. She spotted Alastor at the stove and immediately skittered up to him.

“Sir! I’m supposed to make breakfast!” She shot up to his shoulder and tugged on one antler.

Alastor, usually despising that much physical contact, merely shrugged and twirled his spatula as dramatically as his cane. “Well my dear, Y/N reminded me it’s been one year since we struck our deal. So I decided we’ll have some fun today.” He plucked the little cyclops of his shoulder and deposited her on the stool next to the table.

She scampered down and climbed back up his side to perch on his head. “Ooo, what kind of fun?” Her grin turned feral as she watched him flip hotcakes.

He finished cooking and delivered both food and the little maid to the table. “We’ll figure that out together.” The three of you started eating before he continued. “So my dear, what would you like to do today?” Alastor asked Niffty as he cut into his sausage.

Niffty, her cheeks full of hotcakes and syrup, froze. Her giant eye pinned as she stared at Alastor. A minute passed, then she gulped down her mouthful of food before automatically shoveling another forkful of hotcakes into her mouth. You realized she probably never really thought about it, enthusiastic as she was about her work.

You savored a bite. “How about…” you mused aloud, “we find more bugs than the bayou has?” Niffty’s attention snapped to you as she smiled around her bite of breakfast.

Fed and caffeinated, the three of you walked to your proposed destination. Niffty traveled three times the distance as she dashed around you and Alastor, occasionally climbing up one of you for a better view.

Your destination was a moderate two story building with two large glass enclosures connected. The sign above the entrance read Infernal Insectorium. Niffty’s eye widened as she started giggling on Alastor’s shoulder.

“Y/N, are you certain of this? Our dear Niffty is sure to decimate the population,” Alastor asked with amusement. “If you want to put this establishment out of business, this is an original way of doing so.”

“Not to worry, cher.” You pulled him inside, paying the entrance fee for the three of you. Niffty climbed down and started to run off, but you snagged her blouse before she could. “This place breeds quite a few critters for various purposes. So much so that they have a special wing for removing the substandard ones.” The foyer led to the two wings; one was labeled Observation Room, the other Culling Room. Through the glass walls to both you could see lush indoor gardens.

You led the way to the Culling Room. There was a small room between the foyer and the garden with a door leading to each. Only one could be open at a time, preventing any insect escapes. There was a member of the staff stationed in the room to operate the doors and ensure the bugs stayed where they were meant to be.

Once inside, you let Niffty go. “Eeeeheheheheheeeee!” she laughed, skittering off the path to chase down her first victim. Alastor walked arm in arm with you, admiring the garden.

“However did this place come about? And how did you find out about it my dear?”

Your talons brushed a flowering vine aside. “Evidently this was originally an insect house, supplying silkworms, beetles and snails for dyes, in addition to the indoor garden. But so many visitors kept eating the insects on display, they decided to add this room and charge for the privilege.”

Niffty’s giggles and mutters of “stab, stab, stab” were joined by other chuckles and squeals as demons hunted down their tiny prey. As you rounded a corner you saw a pair of frog-like demons at a wrought iron table catching flying insects with their tongues while making eyes at each other.

“Quite resourceful,” Alastor commented. He spotted an open bench for you both to relax on as Niffty had her fun. He hummed contentedly, soft jazz music filling the area around him. The tiny cyclops dashed into view on occasion, wielding either her favorite chef’s knife or a needle as she scurried after various bugs. She brought ones she was particularly proud of to pile up on the bench “for her collection.”

Whenever a creepy crawly got too close to you or your husband, it found itself impaled by one of your talons. Depending on the bug, you’d either eat it or add it it a separate pile for someone else to indulge in. Even Niffty had a limit to her energy and after a few hours she plopped herself between the two of you. She sifted through her spoils, selecting her favorite specimens. The rest were added to the pile you made.

After her selection was carefully wrapped in a handkerchief and stowed in your handbag, Alastor decided it was time for a late lunch. Food refilled her well of energy and afterwards Niffty was skipping around him again. “Now then, anything else we should do today Niffty, Y/N?”

“Oh oh, I need supplies to display my collection!” Niffty said eagerly, bouncing rapidly. “This way guys!” She ran back and forth between Alastor and the nearest crossroads. She repeated this after every turn until she brought you all to a craft store. The purple spider demon behind the counter recognized the cyclops. “Long time no see Niffty! Where you been sweets?”

“Hi Cici! I’m working for Alastor now. We’re celebrating my one year anniversary!”

“Greetings! The name’s Alastor and this is my darling Y/N. Pleasure to meet you my dear, quite a pleasure,” he said, holding out his hand to shake.

Cici either recognized your husband’s name or voice. She shook his hand carefully and asked Niffty in a shaky voice, “You…you’re working for the Radio Demon?” Niffty responded with a quick and cheerful “yup!” before dashing down an aisle.

“Yes indeedy! She was quite insistent about working for me. Even after my darling whisked her away multiple times! We found her to be extremely persistent.”

“She wore us down,” you added. “It’s been an excellent decision in the end.”

Cici looked a bit less nervous. “Well, she has always liked bad boys.”

Niffty returned with a stack of items; frames, cloth, pins, and boards. “More shadow boxes sweets?” Cici started tallying things up.

“Uh huh! They took me bug hunting today! I’ve got lots of new friends for my collection,” she replied, her voice turning into a cackle at the end.

Alastor paid for the items and stored the lot in his shadow. “I believe we’ve had quite an enjoyable outing today. What say we head back?”

“‘Kay! Bye Cici, see ya later!” Niffty waved rapidly at her friend while bouncing out the door Alastor was holding for you both. You waved at the spider, saying “au revoir!” as you accepted Alastor’s arm.

Niffty continued to zip around the streets on the way home. But her energy started to flag again. A little over halfway, she started dozing off on Alastor’s shoulder. You scooped her up and placed her in your purse; you’d brought your largest in anticipation of this. Her bright red hair peeked out from the top of the bag.

“It has been a lovely diversion today, I must admit,” Alastor said as the sky began to darken.”

“Agreed. I have to say I’m glad Niffty was so persistent. She’s been an excellent addition to the household. And not just because she’s so willing to do housework.” Alastor didn’t reply, but the cheerful music that swelled as he hummed said enough.

——————

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

#hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin niffty #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #asexual alastor #asexual reader #niffty #fluff #asexual

[blackopals-world]

What's the NRC staff's experience at ♨️!Yuu's bath house? I don't believe you've ever written about it in detail; only mentioning it on ♨️!Yuu's initial post. Then again I may have missed it since Tumblr is being rude right now. Feel free to gloss over this one if it doesn't seem like something you want to answer.

I haven't written about this yet.

The staff are in the unique position of having free access to the Onsen and its service. In exchange, it gets to operate without an alcohol license.

Yuu has promised that all the drinks are watered-down to the legal requirements and no one is getting drunk (which is only half true.) Keeping the faculty in the loop keeps Yuu out of trouble.

The Onsen has a private spring designated for VIPs and faculty. It has unlimited food and bottle service.

The main reason the adults use it is because it's the only place to relax away from students. Say what you want but standing all day, and being surrounded by unruly brats is exhausting. The onsen is perfect for getting away.

Everyone has a reason to go and it differs for everyone.

Trein

He's old he needs a good soak in the mineral baths. He usually drinks a strong soju and talks to Yuu about his younger days. Grandpa has a lot of wild stories before he became a teacher. He also goes on and on about his wife and how they fell in love.

He treats Yuu like a grandkid and goes to the onsen mostly for the atmosphere.

Crewel

He completely changes when he's relaxed. Yeah, he is worried about Yuu but when he is tired he needs to cut loose. He will literally let his hair down for one thing. He smokes even if Yuu gives him the stink eyes and tells him to take it outside.

He usually let's Yuu mix him a cocktail or a house wine of their choosing.

He uses the spa services the most. Facials, manicures, pedicures, and hair treatments.

Behind all that, if you get him in at the same time as Sam he's a college student again. Roughhousing, drinking, and telling vulgar jokes. If Yuu isn't there to see it.

Sam

The only reason he's still allowed is because he supplies the Spa and bar. He doesn't ask questions either.

He orders hard liquor, dark. Whiskey, vermouth, and Adictivo Doble Reposado (a favorite in my family) He once tried to get away with ordering absinthe and was poured a glass of water.

He enjoys the steam room says it feels like a hot summer Louisiana day by the bayou. (Trust me you with that was true. Louisiana summers can be amazing but the swamp is no joke)

Sam likes to goad the others into drinking more before challenging them to a few rounds of cards. He doesn't play any of the workers because Yuu trains them on how to win or lose games on purpose. Those girls could whoop your butt.

Vargas

He needs a good ice bath and massage after training. He views the onsen as an important part of taking care of your health. Taking time to relax the muscles and taking care of your body is key to a long life and healthy mind.

That being said he orders tons of beer and food. We can't all be perfect. He falls asleep sometimes and snores like a bear.

He likes to play ping-pong in the game room but he's really bad at it. No one tells him because he's so determined to win. It's doesn't matter because if everyone is drunk they all suck but think they are playing the best game of pong ever.

Crowley

Banned.

Fine. He's allowed. Begrudgingly.

He isn't treated badly but Yuu would rather he leave. But the onsen would be shut down he didn't agree to let it stay open.

He takes off the mask for once and scared Yuu.

"Who are you?!"

"What are you asking? It is me your dear headmage."

"You're lying! Where is the bird man?!"

Yeah, no object permanence here.

Crowley will get wasted off his ass and join in any chaos the others create. Children, the lot of them. He drinks just about anything. It's whatever suits his fancy that day.

He gets his hair done while he's there along with his nails. Yuu finds it weird that his hair creates a natural black oil like some species of bird and his nails are as hard as talons and just as sharp.

#onsen!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #divus crewel #twst divus #mozus trein #twst trein #twst sam #vargas #twst vargas #coach vargas #twst dire crowley #twisted wonderland crowley #twst crowley

[madhatterbri]

Savior | E.M.

Summary: Elijah may prove useful to you in more ways than one.

"Come on, Gertrude. Don't fail me now," you frantically begged while looking at the speedometer of your old car. The old girl was over twenty years old and on her last legs. The car shook at the speed you were going but you had to get away. If they caught you, you would be dead.

A werewolf, you, was spotted in New Orleans. Marcel, the vampire ruler of New Orleans, hated werewolves. He wasn't shy of letting that be known. In fact, he would often leave the bodies of past werewolves scattered around as a reminder. His men constantly patrolled for any wandering werewolves and they spotted you.

You knew it was stupid to go but you had no choice. One of your friends is sick. They needed a potion that one of the quarter's witches could cook up. Despite wearing a hoodie and baggy clothing they easily spotted you. Marcel had your picture engraved in all his followers' minds. You so happened to be one of his biggest protestors.

In the rear view mirror, you could no longer see the two vampires chasing you. Maybe they had given up trying to catch you. The bayou wasn't much farther ahead. Once you turned your attention back to the road you saw how mistaken you were.

The two vampires stood in the middle of the road. You were gaining speed on them fast. They wanted to play a game of chicken. You looked at the brown paper bag in the seat next to you. The potion had to make it to your friend before tomorrow. Maybe you could somehow turn the car to avoid hitting them and run in the woods to the bayou. At the last second you turned the wheel towards the side.

The tires screeched loudly while turning. The momentum caused the car to flip over with you inside. You slipped out of your open window and onto the ground. Your body screamed in pain. Blood covered your face, ribs, and legs. Slowly, you rolled over to crawl away.

The two vampires appeared before you. Their faces stern as they accepted your defeat. Tears sprung to your eyes. Your friend was going to die because you failed. Your pack needed all the members they could hold if they ever wanted to take down Marcel.

A brunette man in a suit appeared behind them. You stared at the stranger unsure if this was a friend or foe. He had a serious look on his face that was hard to read. One of your chasers turned to look at him.

The attack happened in an instant. The mysterious man pulled two stakes and stabbed the vampires. The vampires fell to the ground dead. You laid your head down trying to catch your breath. You never noticed you had been holding it.

"Are you going to kill me instead? I must have a nice bounty on my head from Marcel. Maybe you will get one of those rings," you gasped trying to hide that you were in pain. Your head pounded.

The man said nothing. He adjusted his sweater and approached you. He stood above you. His brown eyes narrowed as he assessed your body.

"You are hurt," he pointed out.

"No shit," you spoke sarcastically.

"Despite the fact that you grew up in the backwaters of some swamp," he started while crouching down. "Do show a little respect. I am an Original after all,"

"You are one of the ones Marcel is worried about," you spoke softly. A gleam of hope twinkled in your eye. Maybe you could ally with this man and his family to have more freedom.

"I am and I believe you and I have some business to discuss," Elijah smiled.

#fanfiction #imagine #the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah tvd #elijah x reader #elijah x you #elijah mikaelson x you #tvd

[randbitb]

I think something about blood in the bayou people don’t like talk about or want to talk about in terms of discussing it as a period piece of 1970s-1980s America, South America to be exact is that the political views of those time periods, and the social structures of that time period, still exists in blood in the bayou, it doesn’t exist in a bubble, and it’s really interesting to play into that, and to look at the characters and the town and the environment of it all and analyse the characters from that point of view. It’s more fun than looking at them from the perspective of someone who grew up in the 20th - 21st century where whilst that shit still exists, and it sucks that it does, doesn’t exist to the degree and severity that it Used To.

#gunky post #bitb #blood in the bayou #jrwi #jrwi bitb

[hype-blue-fixation]

Spying from the Bayou (SFW tickle ficlet)

One sided radiostatic and implied platonic radiorose.

Vox spies on Alastor doing self tickling while talking to Rosie through his voodoo dolls.

He was hopeless. Obsessed. Pitiable. Always one step behind no matter how far forward he thought he was. His name was Vox. Even today, he thought he'd won some sparkling victory for having snuck a camera into the Radio Demon's tardis room. Normally he would be met with fuzzy images of the demon from where his stupid outdated power messed with the technology.

Now he watched crystal clear as Alastor entered, locking his door with comically sized chains and locks. Whatever he was about to do was something he really didn't want anyone to see, and Vox sat on the edge of his seat to drink every second of it. Perhaps some blackmail or a dirty secret would come of his spying.

Alastor began unbuttoning his jacket. Then suddenly his clothes poofed away into a closet, replaced by a vintage women's night gown and pants. No doubt a gift from Rosie. Alastor yawned and stretched his way into bed. Fluffy fur poured out from the gown collar, getting thinner toward his hands and hooves. Vox's heart melted at how soft the radio demon looked. Not at all like his usual conniving and murderous self. The TV demon was already drooling over the headlines. Slandering his rival's foreboding reputation. Imprinting the image of a delicate fawn into the eyes of the public.

He continued watching as Alastor cozied up in bed, pulling his pillows around him and summoning plushy voodoo dolls to his side. God, how much better could this get? He hugged the dolls close and picked at their stitched faces, absent-mindedly tearing the thread out as he stared at the ceiling. It was obvious his mind was wandering in far away places. If only Vox could see those thoughts.

The claws that had been picking at the doll eventually reached up to touch the corners of his own permanent smile. Picking away as if he could remove the invisible thread in his face, too. A small pang of guilt tugged at Vox's heart. A feeling he quickly overwhelmed with quips about how weak and dumb Alastor looked. Vulnerable. Exploitable. How so very exploitable.

Alastor suddenly rearranged himself into a sitting position. His dolls close, friends that had no choice but to do his bidding. Stay exactly how he posed them with their stitched up grins. Then he began talking to them as if they were alive or possessed the ghost of someone special.

“Rosie, dear. Are you there?”

Of course it would be Rosie. Who else? The dolls didn't make a sound, but the way that Alastor smiled…genuinely smiled with his eyes…made it seem like he could hear her voice through them.

“That's good to hear. Unfortunately my day hasn't been quite so bright. I wish I could come see you. I'm in one of…those moods. How do you call it? Yes, that word.”

Vox leaned forward as if he could step into the room himself and hear the other side of the conversation. How frustrating.

Alastor went quiet and brought his hands up to his neck. At first looking like he was trying to strangle himself, but a shift in the camera view revealed that he was spidering his hands from the top and bottom of his neck. Lightly scratching his nails across the pale, sun deficient skin. His eyes fluttered closed, his head tilting from one side to the other as if he couldn't decide which side felt better.

A deep sigh of genuine relaxation echoed in the large room. The hands moved from his neck and took turns rolling up the gown sleeve of the opposite arm. Exposing more skin and thin fur that faded out into a beautiful shade of ebony. One hand scribbled on the underside of the other forearm. Extremely slow and teasy, all the way from the elbow to wrist and back. His eyes opened, but his gaze floated off into some unknown space.

When he switched arms, his body twitched and his breath hitched. Whatever he was doing, it made him feel good. Relaxed. Cuddly. As his claws kept dancing around, he melted against his bed and hid his face in a pile of plushy dolls. Hiding the genuine curls to the edge of his smile, muffling the soft giggles and whines that threatened to be heard.

Vox was livid. He wanted to see that dumb silly little grin with a spaced out stare. Catch those disgustingly adorable sounds on record to broadcast all over Hell. Even when Alastor wasn't aware of the camera, he still made his likeness impossible to capture.

Out of what seemed like nowhere, Alastor removed his gown top. Revealing an upper body full of fluffy, curling fur. One arm tucked behind his head as the opposite hand explored with tickly touches. The fleshy underside of his upper arm, toward the armpit, down the side, and back up again. His body jerked when certain spots were grazed along, especially close to the armpit and over his ribcage. Sometimes even pulling out a sweet little giggly hum.

Vox wanted more. To have his claws dancing on those sensitive spots, eliciting those sickeningly adorable little sounds. Imagine the blackmail. Imagine the stories. Imagine his own exploding heart and popping circuits from how cute it was. He could feel his screen heating up to a point where the fans nearly kicked on.

“Rosie, shush! You're not helping! Shut up!” Alastor playfully bantered, saying mean things in the purest way. Whatever she was whispering through the dolls, given that this whole thing wasn't just imagination, had the radio demon's face turning a healthy shade of pink. He switched to the other side, playing with a fresh set of nerves. 

His little hooves shivered and clicked against each other as he tried very hard not to break into a giggle fit. His smile growing with his need to hide it in the pillows and dolls.

“No,” Vox whispered at the screen, “you're going to show me that ugly little smile.”

As if he could hear him and obey his command, Alastor turned his face up. The smile completely true and bright, not hiding any shifty schemes behind its sharp teeth. Only genuine joy and fuzzy feelings. This only happened by accident, but Vox felt like Alastor was looking directly at him. Oh how his digital heart leapt at the mere fleeting thought. Hopeless.

Alastor's claws moved from his sides and both settled on his soft belly. Scribbling up the sides, over the top. His fingers moving in such an eye-catching and fascinating way. Like spider legs barely contacting his skin. it almost looked like art. The reactions even more so.

Little fawn-like bleats. Biting his lip to dam up the embarrassing noise. His hooves still clicking and kicking ever so slightly.

A single claw circled around his belly button, and that seemed to be the absolute end of his patience. He melted into a pile of giggling goo. Draping the idle arm over his mouth to muffle the sound. Such a shield could only hide so much. Eventually his giggles and sighs rose higher.

Locked away emotions bubbled up inside Vox. The desire to make those giggles fill up that entire room. To see his rival reduced to a fuzzy mass of useless goo. Unable to look him in the eyes because he was too busy hiding in dolls and pillows. Exploiting the demon wasn't even part of these strange desires. What could these feelings even be called? They were too pure for him to apply any label he knew.

Alastor's self teasing came to an end. He stretched out on his bed and sighed deeply. Fully relaxed like a baby in a warm cradle. And for the first time, Vox actually witnessed the overlord sleep. Gripping tightly to his voodoo dolls. Curled up in a fetal position with his head folded back on his body uncomfortably. His eyes stayed wide open, but Vox somehow knew he was sleeping inside that empty head. Creepy. Unsettling. Adorable. Charming.

After witnessing that pure little scene, Vox couldn't bring himself to do any of the things he'd originally planned. Exposing Alastor in this way felt morally wrong, like stealing a baby's candy or kicking an old woman who's already on the ground. At least he forever had the footage to go back and watch again and again. To obsess over.

Except that he forgot to hit the record button.

What a shame.

#lee!alastor #ticklefic #self tickling #Ler?Vox #sfw tickle community #sfw tickles #my writing

[nunalastor]

to the international peeps who might be like wtf are you guys talking about

- viv in the past has said alastor is mixed race creole. it hasn't been confirmed canon and might have changed because his voice actor is now iranian. however, in the pilot he mentions jambalaya and he has a bayou and other nods to louisiana that suggest a louisiana upbringing

- creole is one of those weird terms that can mean different things to different people. but generally it means you're some mix of french, spanish, african, and/or native american - so you can be white creole or black creole but most people associate it with darker people

- if he's creole, it means he's from louisiana (but doesn't necessarily mean new orleans)

- louisiana was a colony of spain and france before becoming part of the us

- france was an important ally of the united states against british rule and its military and economic help were crucial to american victory so the us could become independent

- the us bought louisiana from france as part of the louisiana purchase

- some people in the us were anti-french for white supremist reasons (omg you guys are fucking minorities??) - especially prior to the civil war

- during both world wars there was a lot of negative propaganda about the french in the us (german propaganda to destabilize, americans trying to drum up support for the war like france is weak and cowardly so you guyssss we gotta help them)

- post civil war there was a lot of racism that pushed towards segregation between races + anglicization (english white vs other races white) and people were like stop being french and speaking french this is AMERICA and made english the sole language in louisiana schools in 1921

- but now french people are just considered white with all the advantages that come with it

- there are still some stereotypes that exist about france in the us (mainly people from france vs being french) but it's nothing like the xenophobia of somewhere like the uk.

- now most people in the us view the french almost 99% positively - especially because of globalization - and the idea of hating the french is seen as so absurd it's funny (because the us cares more about hating asian/brown/black ppl and religious minorities)

#history #so we're making fun of anti-french sentiments that were over long before we were born

[blueiight]

The Great Flood of 1924 or 1927?aka, a bored trivia post

s1e05 has become the boogeyman of this fanbase for events that largely occur toward the very end of it, but the flood that leads to claudia’s makeshift burials being exposed is very fascinating in terms of chronology. it speaks to how amc iwtv only slightly shifts around history to situate its immortal characters deeply within the environment of a city thats largely viewed by many, including the source material itself, as an ahistorical pleasure garden with no past or present worth caring about.

from @diasdelfuego’s s1 timeline, we have already seen an example of how the show moves with its environment, altering the release date/place of jelly roll morton’s wolverine blues from 1923 indiana to 1917 new orleans [and it be a record the fictional lestat played a role in creating — lestat aiding in a notorious trickster’s story, one of the most oblique lies on louis’s end to make lestat look more sympathetic or one of the funniest historical movearounds on the showrunners’ end, who knows].

this great flood that brings the living situation in rue royale to a head for claudia is another one of them. when lestat and louis read claudia’s diaries, they discover how shes kept careful record of the people shes buried, killed, and mutilated. they interrogate her to ask where the bodies are, and only toward the end of the confrontation does she reveal where she buried them all.

LOUIS: Where are the bodies?

CLAUDIA: Chalmette. Now get out of my room!

LOUIS: Chalmette's three feet below the river line—

CLAUDIA: So what, get out of my room!

LOUIS: What happens when the next storm comes out the Gulf?

and sequenced near immediately, in classic amc iwtv didactic fashion, the next storm comes out the gulf and unburies the bodies claudia buried on very low-lying ground.

now, temporarily exiting the show and into reality, the true flood of southern louisiana in this period occurred in 1927, when the missisippi river valley experienced heavy rainfall.

where disaster stops, and where segregationist city engineers enter, is that bankers and business leaders in new orleans lobbied the governor to intentionally broke the levee outside of new orleans proper, and so he did, ensuring that the city itself would not be flooded, but flooded out much of the low-lying areas in st. bernard parish. remember chalmette? it is in st. bernard parish.

the subsequent conversation lestat + louis have with tom anderson confirm this even more, with tom describing the number of bodies, the 56 ‘floaters’ from the ninth ward [a neighborhood in new orleans that borders chalmette], all people who have been mutilated in some fashion.

tom anderson notes this as well:

Most of the poor fools they hooked out of the bayou are former inhabitants of the Quarter, so don't be too startled if the police come knockin' on your door.

indicating that most of the people claudia killed, mutilated, and buried there were the wealthy, white neighbors of the rue royale mansion and not residents of low-lying parishes that were seen as fodder by the state of louisiana. now why didnt lestat, who was able to hypnotize an entire room of soldiers in episode 3, hypnotize the 3-4 officers that came to inspect their mansion? questions, questions… (that have very obvious answers but are secondary to this post)

referring back to the s1 timeline linked, this great flood of 1927 was either moved up to 1924, matching the decision to move up + alter the creation of the wolverine blues in episode 3 for narrative reasons, and/or refers to the odyssey of recollection, aka., how keeping exact dates and recalling the numerous historical events u have lived under after 145 or so years of misery become difficult. this post is just a fun little trivia bit + something i found to be interesting

#yn. #iwtv #vampterview #louis de pointe du lac #claudia #lestat de lioncourt #family from hell

[snoutbleed]

Telling a story takes guts.

Forensic photographer Sören Heinrich can’t ignore the nausea bubbling in his throat when documenting someone's darkest day. He loses sleep over the fates he captures but is drawn to the purpose vested in his grisly role. When blood-slicked prints become Sören's next subject, he finds a message that blurs the line between his personal and professional life.

"This is where I’ve been. Don’t follow."

Unable to fathom his long-lost brother’s crimson handwriting, Sören descends into the criminal underworld for answers. The young boar's inner demons guide him toward a morbid self-reckoning.

Direktion 2 has their work cut out for them.

Crime is on the rise in post-reunification Berlin. Among the cases, the Polizeidirektorate in the city's westernmost boroughs is baffled by freak murders at the hands of denizens without motive.

In the shadow of the Berlin Wall, the crime wave takes a supernatural twist behind the lock of a post-Soviet puzzle.

Camera flashes at the crime scenes reveal gruesome secrets stirring in the shadows.

Unravel the conspiracy in #LONG STORY SHORT.

#The Filing Cabinet -- scan the profiles of those in the know. #Bloodstained Polaroids -- view the images of lives gone astray. #Evidence Board -- learn the details of secrets best kept. #Mystery Signals -- behold the lore of the mind melt. Face the music in the official Long Story Short playlist!

Everyone gathers toward the Abschnitt.

There are several Polizei Berlin stations like the Abschnitt, but everyone tied to this supernatural symphony ends up near this Spandau station particularly.

Sören Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The black sheep of the Abschnitt. Sören’s abrasive nature keeps his co-workers at bay, a division widened by their western ideals clashing with his East German upbringing. He distances himself from the station through tight focus on his job, always the first to arrive at a crime scene. Don Jae Hale -- ( elk | tag | bio ) The silver-tongued Kriminalhauptkommissar of the Abschnitt. Hale is quick to dismiss the killings up until his leadership comes under siege by the paranoid public. Umeya Romanova -- ( fox | tag | bio ) The Bundeskriminalamt detective sent to assist with the Abschnitt’s mounting cases. Rumor says Umeya is there for more than the mystery, but her motives veiled by a callous attitude. Marieke Reiss -- ( rabbit | tag | bio ) The star psychology student barely escaped a killing. Now a key witness, Marieke can’t rest easy knowing she could be the next victim, driving her to take matters into her own hands. Reinhardt Müller -- ( donkey | tag | bio ) The Abschnitt’s disgraced ace detective, worn down and living in the grimy corners of Berlin. When crime spikes, Reinhardt tries to relive his “glory days" of detective work. Ukko Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The crime lord defends his territory with brutal but firm methods. He's sworn to his found family, the country's political rift making him protective to a fault. Vorwitz Albrecht -- ( bat | tag | bio ) A gardener with good banners but bad morals. Vorwitz's unsavory career choices put him in the Abschnitt, but he finds a way out with Sören.

Entropy knows no bounds.

Stop, look and listen: stories are everywhere. Behold my settings.

Face more madness in #TALES GONE STALE.

LAID TO WASTE -- an abomination stirs in the bayou, its secrets poisoning a township. THE WASTED LIVES -- a group of galactic fugitives embark on a never-ending getaway on a runaway cruiser. (Links need an update. Stay tuned.)

The mind behind the melancholy.

ACHTUNG! This blog is 18+ for gore and suggestive content!

You can call me Dissy (she/her). I'm a writer with stories and ideas always bouncing inside my head, especially this one. Feel free to ask me about myself, my writing, my characters, or anything else. I promise you I can bark up a tree for hours.

I also do Polaroid photography: check out @hogrot for my shots!

I also encourage comments, critique, etc. about this setting. I want to pace myself while writing this, therefore I have all the time I need to refine this where I can. I don't expect this story to come out for a while anyway, especially as I run it through critiques. Hell, this pet project wouldn't have come into fruition thanks to the feedback of some incredible friends.

Shoutout to PYRY for doing character design and art for this setting, as well as giving his ideas and characters for the Heinrich plotline. Go check out his killer art. This story wouldn't exist without him.

Another shoutout to @tsanapi, an incredible artist who drew the art pictured above. Her sense of style is so keen.

And a final thanks to you, the reader, for tuning into the mind melt. This signals wouldn't have picked up without you.

#wip intro #writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing #story writing #furry writing #writing community #writer intro #long story short #furry #furry art #oc art #oc writing

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Wow, now this is a castle. It looks to be in good shape for being built in 1973 and it's in New Orleans, Louisiana. 3bds, 1ba, $500K. Whoever took the photos didn't know what they were doing- most of them are so small and there aren't many. But, here it is, and it's a bargain. I don't know what they're talking about but it's 2 properties- one is the castle, and the other is a 2bd, 1ba "camp" on the water. They don't show the "camp."

Some of the photos are so tiny.

This must be one of the entrances. There's an open entrance way with a door on the other side.

This quite a kitchen It looks very castle-like and is in the round.

Plus, there's a throne in the kitchen. I wonder how long it's been empty- look at the dust.

This kitchen is cool- look at the view of the water from the sink.

This is probably a photo of what it looks like now. The scaffolding must mean they were doing work. Does that carousel horse convey? What about the ghouls on the newel post?

The stairs in the kitchen lead up to this area with doors to the bedrooms and bath. Small picture of the ceiling details.

One of the bedrooms, not sure if it's the primary. Looks like it has new furniture b/c there's a tag still on it, plus a small closet in the wall.

This is the only bath. The shower can fit a very tall person and the toilet has a great view.

They don't show any other rooms, like what's in the turret, but it has access to a nice rooftop deck.

Look at the little turret in the corner. That is so cute. Looks like you can climb up and look out the little window in the roof.

The view at dusk.

The home is on a small water outlet of Lake Pontchartrain, called Castle Bayou.

They've got a photo of this house, which I'm guessing is the camp they say is included in the sale.

I like this castle, it's so cute, like a mini castle. Wish they had some decent photos of the whole thing.

#castle house #NOLA homes #houses #house tours #home tour

[flywolfwriting]

Throw Me in the Deep End

Charlie was proud to say she was not afraid of the dark. It certainly impressed the other seven-year-olds in her class, and her parents always told her how proud they were that she had conquered that fear so young. That she was so brave for sleeping without a night light. 

It was even mostly true. She could sleep in her own room, and could sneak about the manor in the middle of the night without her heart in her throat, but sometimes it still quickened, and if she looked out the windows her breath caught. She was still only seven, after all, and it was a big, scary world beyond the safety of the manor walls. 

It took her time to settle into their New Orleans holiday home. She learned the creaking of the walls and the whispering of the wind, grew accustomed to the way shadows cloaked her temporary bedroom. She kept the curtains open for just that small glimmer of moonlight and buried her head under her blankets to keep from looking outside. 

She didn't say anything to her parents, though, not even when her mom woke her before sunrise to take her on an early-morning walk. They drove for ages with Charlie napping in the backseat, until her mom pulled over and told her they'd arrived. Charlie hugged close to her, but put on a brave face when Lilith led her into the bayou. She protested only a little when directed to stay put for a moment, her plea cut off with a firm, "You're mommy's brave little girl, aren't you?" 

Charlie wanted so badly to be so she nodded and did as asked. She watched her mother disappear into the darkness and waited. 

And waited.

And kept waiting. 

The song of the bayou played around Charlie and her trembling fingers clutched the hem of her shirt tightly as she tried not to imagine glowing eyes creeping closer around her, silent tears streaking her cheeks. 

Finally she could take it no more and with a sob she raced back the way they'd come. 

"Mommy!"

—---------------------

Alastor loved nights like this, when the shadows clung to him like cobwebs and the crescent moon offered just enough light to avoid stepping into the alligator-infested waters. He could see the glint of their eyes watching as he dumped the duffle bag and opened it. They moved closer but didn't creep onto the small finger of land he stood on. They simply waited, and when he threw the first limb into the water they struck, the still bayou turning into churning bodies fighting for meat. 

Alastor threw the next piece, quietly humming as he watched them feed. This was almost the best part, second only to the moment blood welled under his fingers and his victim realized they were about to die. He kept the best cuts to himself, of course, but the gators seemed to appreciate his treats all the same. 

When he finished he loaded the bag with soil before tossing it in, tucked his gloves back into his pocket, and set off with a spring in his step. 

That was when he heard the sob.

Alastor froze, listening carefully. The bayou was full of strange sounds but he had learned them all, knew each creak of wood, the splash of an alligator sliding into the water, the hum of every insect. He slipped into the shadow between the trees and waited, his knife at the ready. They weren't truly deep within the bayou itself; he couldn't risk the noise of a boat. It was plausible someone had followed him. 

What came next was a greater shock: a child, a little girl, stumbling into view. 

No, they weren't deep, but dawn had yet to crack the sky and they weren't near any roads. 

Alastor resisted a sigh and tucked his knife back into its sheath against his thigh and stepped out. 

The girl let out a short scream and fled.

“Wait-” Alastor called, then took off after her. He couldn't see her anymore but he heard her footsteps, another short scream, and the expected splash as she fell into the water. 

And then a more familiar kind of splash.

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#Hazbin Hotel #Alastor #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #RadioApple #Slow burn #ao3 #flywolf33 #flywolfwriting #my fic #please don't repost to another site #fanfic #Human au #found family #hazbin hotel rosie #serial killer Alastor #title from Deep End by I Prevail