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confessioncassette · 2 days

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The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader

18+. minors do not interact.

thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.

If this world is wearing thin And you're thinking of escape I'll go anywhere with you Just wrap me up in chains But if you try to go alone Don't think I'll understand

part 1

summary : After an unsuspecting death, you end up in hell and at the Hazbin Hotel. You become dead set on redemption. Alastor's feelings towards you are confusing and it pisses him off more than he can handle. In result, unknowingly to him, his feelings manifest through his shadow.

tw : violence, slight gore. No smut

words : 3.4k

notes : this chapter is world building. this story will absolutely have smut and a little angst. no dark content this story. but minors dni.

Your feet are fast beneath you. The rain pelts your face and uncomfortably slithers down into the fabric of your clothes.

But you keep running. In any other circumstance, you would say, at this moment, that you’re running because your life depends on it.

But your life, quite literally, depends on it.

Streetlights are a blur as you run down the empty street, pumping your arms higher and faster. Grinding your teeth and ignoring the way your lungs threaten to give out on you, you fight the urge to look back.

Your body screams to stop. But the only thing you need to feel, the only thing that matters, is feeling that plastic bag within your palm.

A faint groan falls past your lips as you try to keep up with your pace. Just a little farther, just a little faster and you’ll make it safe. Back to-

The roaring of an engine cuts through the downpour of rain. A bright light swerves over your form from behind you and grows bigger.

Don’t look back, don’t look back. Keep going. For her. For her. For her.

The car revs up to you all too fast. A pained noise comes up through your throat as tears welt at your eyes, but you don’t stop.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” A man screams at you through the open car window.

Darting your eyes to the right graces you an opening. An alley. And before thinking twice, you throw your body down the path.

You sprint down the cobblestone, careful not to catch your shoe on the uneven rock. It’s dark, and without the streetlights, you do the best you can to adjust. You’re caught between two tall buildings, the rain a little gentler now. Dodging between trash and dumpsters, you keep going.

This won’t be how you die.

But another building greets you at the end of this path. Catching your breath, you bring your hands to the stone and feel. Hoping, praying that there’s-

A ladder.

Shoving the plastic bag into your pocket, you grip the cold steel of the ladder and begin to climb.

All before rough hands forcefully grip your shoulders and throw you to the ground.

You wail as your skull cracks over a skewed rock.

“Thought you could outrun us, little bitch?”

“Y’can’t just take what y’want without payin’, you fucking whore!”

Three hooded men surround your body. Your eyes slide down to see a sharp object glistening in the faint light.

Fight, flight, or freeze.

You’ve heard the term, but you’ve never been in a moment where you needed to think of what to do so quickly. You know damn well you’d be fucked if you didn’t try. If you fled, they’d find you. Hunt you down. They’d probably make your death last longer. You knew what you were dealing with, you’ve gotten what you needed plenty of times from them. Always a clean transaction.

But stealing? This time? You knew what they were about. If you froze you’d stand no chance. Even if you knew them, they wouldn’t grant you mercy.

Stabilizing yourself onto your palm, your other hand sheaths a knife you keep hidden in your sock.

“Whoa! Deciding to be a big girl today?”

“Get the fuck back!” You don’t recognize your gavelled voice.

Swiping your knife at one man's belly catches him by surprise. And to your surprise, you got him good. Yelling out in pain, the man slumps forward and grips his stomach. Thankfully, this one wore a thin shirt under an open jacket.

“Jesus, fuck! Oh, y’done it now ya cunt.”

Thrashing in their hold, kicking anywhere you could, biting, screaming, scratching - it’s done no good.

One man is quick to put you in a headlock while the other lands blow after blow over your face.

The world is fading. Your vision blurs with blood. Your mouth slacks open and becomes numb from the pain, like your body is giving you one last grace before you die. Through puffy eyelids, you lift your head the best you can before catching the eyes of the man before you.

He steps close to your face, taking in your bloodied mess, and smiles menacingly before the blade of a cold knife slides over your throat.

–

Nausea hits you quickly when you wake. Are you awake? Is this a dream?

You hiss through gritted teeth as you roll your head to the side over… stone? You’re laying down… outside?

The sounds of screams finally filter through your ears all at once, like a radio was just turned up too loud and it rattles your bones.

The…fuck?

You rack your memory, shifting through everything you can remember from just before. It’s hazy, but you’re sure you blacked out. You throw your face into your hands, despite how your body protests any movement you give. And then like a freight train, it all hits you at once.

Sprinting down an empty street through the rain, the baggie you desperately held… Three mens’ faces. The feeling of slicing through one’s stomach like it was butter, watching the blood splatter over the cobblestone with a sickening splash as his intestines threaten to spill.

The look on the man's face as something cold touches your throat. The warmth that spilled down your body after that.

You died.

You’re fucking joking.

Denial, panic, dread, anxiety - it all crashes into you at once. Your home, your bills, your job were the first things that came to mind. What about your family? What would they think? Your lifeless body flashes through your mind.

What about my body? Will they hide me? Leave me there to rot? You’ve known in the past that they‘ve displayed bodies to others as a warning… but what will they do with yours?

Oh god, what would your family think of how your body looked when you died? They’ll know you suffered.

The pills.

Fuck the pills. Would they think you’re a druggie? Would they know-

Her.

Your body shakes as you blanch. You dry heave over the stone but nothing comes.

What about her? How will she be able to-

“Well well well! Lookie what the mortal realm dragged here! Fresh meat.” A gravel voice comes from, you look up to see, a dumpster.

“Oy, she’s fresh. Reeks of human.” The other agrees.

Adjusting your eyes, you assess the place you’re in. You guess you haven’t even considered where you are… were you alive? The mortal realm? ….Human?

Your body aches as you rise to your feet, swaying as you stand fully.

You shake your head, “what?” It comes out as a whisper. Not knowing if you’re speaking to yourself, into existence, or asking the men at the dumpster chain smoking cigarettes.

“Oy, poor thing don’t know where she’s at!”

“Give her a second - Hey! Hey miss! What ya in for?”

You take a moment to look… You’re standing in an alley.

Funny.

This alleyway is much shorter than the one you were just in. There's a group of men in suits smoking next to a dumpster, all dressed in slacked smiles and top hats. All very excited to hear what you have to say.

No. Not men.

Are you dreaming? You’ve gotta be. These men don’t look normal. Their bodies resemble sharks. Sharp teeth line their smile, bulbous noses… even tails.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. You don’t even feel like you’re in your own body.

One shark-man-thing elbows another after a comment you don’t hear, “Oy, don’t fuck around, not her fault she don’t know, right there, doll face?”

“Welcome to hell!” Another shark cackles out.

Your vision tunnels. You really are dead.

“So, sweetheart, ya gunna tell us what yer in for?”

Panic sets in and you're gone. Sprinting down the alley and into the vermillion streets of… hell.

Never knowing that you’d sprint like your life depended on it again, you bob and weave between small red creatures with horns, tall gangly dark voids, monsters with falling flesh that expose their bones, prickly beings with multiple arms…

A dream. Wake up.

You ran for miles. Hours, you’re sure of it. Satan himself must be laughing because you swear you didn't leave this one area even though you’ve been trying to escape for hours. You’ve passed the same towns, the same buildings, shops and landmarks multiple times now.

Your body refused to run any longer. Your legs feel like jelly and quiver with every step. You suppose it’s getting dark. You would never guess that ‘hell’ had a nighttime. Wasn’t it all flames and eternal suffering? These creatures here surely look like their suffering, but it wasn’t quite the image you’ve always pictured.

There were gift shops, libraries, tall business buildings, grocery stores, games, bars - a sinners paradise. Everything you could think of was right here.

The smells of burning flesh and acid still pierced your senses and in some areas you’d find mutilated bodies, vomit and unknown fluids littering the streets… but in other areas, they were clean, the people friendly.

This has got to be the workings of some fabricated bat-shit wild drugs your doctor gave you at the hospital. You’ll wake soon.

Dragging your feet along, the glow of multiple tv’s through a window catches your attention.

Your eyes are heavy. Everything about you is heavy. So you stare into the oblivion for god knows how long of commercials, wild news stories and-

“Are you a way-ward sinner looking for redemption? Are you fresh from the cut and confused why you’re here?” A staticy transatlantic voice booms through the screens. A wave of interest gives you a second wind.

“Well come on down to the Hazbin Hotel!” The commercial shows a happy group standing in front of a hotel. The camera pans to one individual in particular, holding out her hands to the camera with a comforting smile.

“I believe that you can change and find your way into heaven! Allow me and our staff to help you with your path to redemption!” The camera cuts to pictures of the inside. Beautiful wallpaper lined the walls, fresh new carpet, golden accents throughout, new bathrooms and a beautiful wooden bar… fresh new rooms with offensively comfortable beds.

“After the most recent extermination, our hotel was destroyed. But! With a little help, we have re-built it bottom up. We have new additions as well! Come read in our extensive library, relax in our spa, come have a drink at our new and bigger bar. Come lay in bedrooms twice the size as the last one! And it’s all waiting for you here at the Hazbin Hotel!”

The Hazbin Hotel… it sounds like just what you needed. A bed, some food, a drink and most importantly - a bed to sleep this dream off.

Taking a once over the directions to the hotel listed on the screen, you begin your walk up to the highest point in hell.

A damn is that a walk. With all the running you did all day, you’re lucky you were able to walk across town and up the hill to where a luxurious and brightly lit hotel stands tall.

Taking in the beauty of it all and the grand entrance doors, you knock gently.

It didn’t take long for the door to burst open and you're met with that same friendly face you saw in the commercial.

“Hello there! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where we can make your redemption become a reality! I am so happy you’re here!” The frantic woman takes your hand in hers, shaking it firmly.

“Charlie, Charlie, I know you’re excited but-” A shorter woman appears behind her with long white hair and purple skin. Her eye meets yours as she offers a small smile.

“I’m Vaggie, this is Charlie. Are you here to check-into the hotel?”

Bouncing up and down, the tall blond balls her fists together in excitement.

“I’m Charlie Morningstar! The owner of this hotel! And you are?”

You smile, giving her your name before she squeals in excitement.

“If you’d have me, I’d like to check in.” You say.

“Ohmygoodness this is great! Come on, we will give you a tour!” With a sigh from Vaggie, Charlie gently takes your hand and leads you inside.

Surprisingly, a clean scent hits you as you walk through the threshold. It’s warm and inviting, unlike most of the places you ventured to today. Golden lanterns light up the lobby beautifully, the marble of the floor shines brightly beneath the ambiance.

“This is our lobby, where we check-in guests like you!”

A beautiful golden double ended staircase lined with red carpet stands tall at the end of the lobby. Elevators line the hallways behind it, to the right is a common area with luxurious furniture, fully equipped with that same mahogany bar you saw on the commercial.

“It’s… beautiful.” You sigh and under your breath you continue, “Too bad it’s just a dream.”

You notice that the shoulders on both women beside you fall. Charlie chuckles nervously, “What do you mean it’s a dream?”

You shrug. “I mean, isn’t this all a dream? I pass out and I wake up… here,” you gesture to the beautiful lobby. “I’m sure I’ll wake up soon, but I never imagined that I could conjure up a place like this.”

Charlie fiddles with her fingers and opens her mouth to respond, but it’s Vaggie who steps forward.

“Did you say that you ‘passed out and woke up here?’” You nod, head still spinning around to take it all in. The ceilings are high and painted with beautiful artwork, expressing all colors that you haven’t really seen much outside in this dream.

Vaggie is hesitant before she continues.

“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but this isn’t a dream. You’ve died and ended up in hell.” Her hand on your shoulder is gentle.

You cock your head to face her. You want to laugh. You want to smile it off. Of course they would say that, doesn’t everyone in dreams tell you that? But the expression she carries is genuine and there’s this tension in the air.

And you feel that spiral all over again. Your heart rate quickens and it’s difficult to swallow, your mouth is so dry… you shake your head.

“Ah! What do we have here, Charlotte?”

That familiar transatlantic accent courses through the room as smooth as you’ve heard once before.

“She’s just arrived!” Charlie clears her throat, blanketing the tension with her upbeat sing-song voice.

“I thought I could smell something… fresh. What do they call you, sweetheart?” He hums.

Peering up, you’re met with a tall man dressed in a red suit. His hands rest over a cane as his gaze peers down at you. A wicked smile paints his face as his ears stand proudly atop his head.

You give him your name, offering him a small smile and in response, the man cocks his head to the side, ears tilting inwards as he does.

“A lovely name. I’m Alastor, it is quite a pleasure to meet you.” Your eyes scan his face and that beautiful smile. His eyes are a deep red and his features sharp. You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

His vermillion stare is heavy as he offers a hand. You take it hesitantly and to your surprise, he is far more gentle than Charlie’s initial greeting. His thumb swipes over your knuckles as his eyes drink your entire being in.

“Charlie, I think I’ll take care of the rest.”

Vaggie cuts in, “I don’t think so. Not a good idea to be alon-”

Alastor’s head cracks in the direction of her. The slightest flicker of lights is barely noticeable in the lobby.

“It’s okay, Vaggie. It’s late anyways! We will spend all day with her tomorrow. Oh! I have so many ideas on exercises and breakfast and lunch and-”

“Yes, we do.” Vaggie’s hand rests over the blonde’s then her attention turns to you. “Just… be careful. Alastor will show you to your room when you’re done. We will see you in the morning.”

The girls bid you goodnight and the lobby feels strangely empty without them here.

You’re left with Alastor, who you don’t know his role here yet, who’s stare is unwavering ever since he’s met you.

“Right this way, dear.” The metal of his cane gently guides you through the halls as he continues the tour Charlie set off.

The man is eerily quiet through the tour. With his arms folded behind his back, he would take you to each floor and show you all the things this place has to offer.

The stare he gives burns on your skin, but you do your best to ignore. You’re not in any state to question right now. Especially as to why he walks so close, why he brushes up against you when opening doors for you and why he’s failed to focus on anything other than your frazzled state.

The hotel is beautiful. Full of everything anyone could ever want. A library, a spa, a gym, a bar, formal dining room, common rooms, fully equipped kitchen. This place has it all, and you’re welcome here? Everything this hotel has, is for you to gain redemption and go to heaven?

The thought of heaven crosses your mind. You mull it over. Heaven would be nice to spend eternity but… Why? Why weren’t you chosen to go to heaven and ended up here?

But this sense of dread fills you deep in your core. You’ve died. Did they already find your body? How much time has passed on earth?

“Is it not up to your standards, little doe?” Alastor’s voice chimes in, lifting an eyebrow.

Pushing away the thought, you shake your head. “No, no, that’s not it at all. This place is beautiful. I’m just,” you sigh, shoulders slumping inward.

“It’ll take time.” You don’t notice the way his hand twitches.

“I don’t even know why I am here.” Your footsteps are muffled by the lush carpet as you pass the hotel rooms.

“Some don’t understand why they’re here when they first arrive. I’m sure a bath and some rest will help.” Stopping in front of a mahogany door, Alastor steps close to you. The tips of his shoes almost touch yours. The wisps of his hair curl under his chin as he looks down to you. His curious expression was only a flash, as it was replaced with a casual grin, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Your line of sight rests at the base of his chest, his scent of whiskey and soap fill your senses.

A hand grazes over your waist, his face brushes over your cheek as he leans forward to open the door. His warmth radiates into you, but only for a fleeting moment-

“And here we are, my dear. Your very own living quarters!” Spinning you around quickly, your eyes fall on the large room that you can now call yours.

A king bed plush with pillows and a soft comforter. A desk, a closet, a couch and lounge chair set that sit perfectly in front of a golden fireplace. In the back - a large bathroom with a claw foot tub and stand up shower.

You gasp at it all.

“Mine?” You turn to Alastor standing tall at the doorway. The light from behind him outcasts his features that are facing you. His presence is strong and you’ve noticed that the moment you met. His stance always unwavering, his movements calculated. Something pulls beneath your chest, a nagging feeling that there’s more beneath the aloof surface.

“All yours, little doe.”

He watches you silently before he continues.

“My radio studio is the door directly to your left and my room is just across the hall. If you need anything, I am close.”

“Thank you, Alastor.” You smile at him. A genuine smile. And it feels like the first one in a while. Things don’t feel so grim after all. You could really make this work. Your chest flutters with hope.

Hell, you’ll even give redemption a shot.

Alastor hesitates. Keeping his gaze over yours as you stand in the middle of your room. You can’t see any of his features, but his eyes burn through yours. The deep red forces its way through the darkness, and you can’t quite pinpoint the emotion that lays there.

“Until tomorrow, goodnight.” And before you could wish the same, he is gone and your door is already closed.

–

With a hot shower to scrub away the day, you crawl into bed. Sleep manifests faster than you think. Guess you didn’t realize how tired you were. And before you know it, you're comfortably slumped and drifting into peaceful sleep.

You didn’t even realize the shadow that slithers under your door.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #alastor smut #alastor

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hawkinsbnbg · 1 day

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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.

The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.

No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.

Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.

They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.

Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.

Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.

They all saw him.

A thing that Steve would never take for granted.

Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.

"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.

"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"

"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.

"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.

"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.

"Hey!"

"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.

Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.

Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.

"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."

"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.

"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.

"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.

Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."

She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.

It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.

As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.

"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"

"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.

"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"

"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."

"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.

When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.

"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.

Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.

"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.

By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.

As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.

He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.

But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.

As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.

And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.

He had bumped right into someone.

He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.

Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.

Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.

"Harrington?"

Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.

"Munson."

#steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #stobin #pre steddie #platonic soulmates stobin #soulmates steddie #soulmates whoes souls are connected so even death can’t do them apart #sionewrites #might have a part 2 if reactions are good #sorry it's not even halloween and i posted this lmao

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hrts4scarr · 1 day

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ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.

"staring at my sister, huh?"

jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.

sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"

jenson grumbles under his breath.

"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.

"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.

jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."

seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."

"i promise." jenson nods sternly.

〜

days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.

jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.

so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.

you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.

jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.

you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.

but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.

he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)

it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

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katyobsesses · 2 days

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in the right place

@bucktommyweek Prompt: Alternate First Meeting

What if Tommy never left the 118?

word count: 985

AO3 LINK

The laughter around the table never failed to make Tommy smile as he ate.

These moments with the 118 had only just started to become the norm when he had applied for his transfer to Harbor. But, thankfully, that transfer had fallen through at the last minute and Bobby had agreed to keep him on for at least another year as he reapplied. And while becoming a pilot for the LAFD was Tommy’s dream, he was glad for the extra time spent with the 118 and its new dynamic.

The firehouse under Captain Gerrard was very much a thing of the past, now, and Tommy was glad that he was able to see the 118 become what it was today from the inside, rather than the outside looking in. It had become a family.

To which a new member was set to join today.

Everyone was in high spirits as they ate lunch, waiting for the new Probie to turn up.

Tommy spun his spaghetti onto his fork, humming in agreement to whatever Hen had just said as he ate it. He looked up from his plate as he chewed, and spotted a kid bounding his way across the walkway towards them.

He nudged Howie in the side with his elbow.

“Cap,” Howie relayed, his own mouth also still stuffed with pasta. Tommy rolled his eyes at him and Howie shot him a muffled What? before taking another bite with a smirk.

“Uh… Hi!” The kid greeted with a nervous little wave as he came to a stop, “I’m Evan Buckley? New recruit. I was told to report to Captain Nash…”

The table fell silent as the prank they’d planned for this moment got underway.

Bobby tilted his head to the side in believable mock confusion at Evan’s words, before turning to everyone at the table. Tommy had to take another bite of food to stop himself from either speaking up in the kid’s defense, or laughing at his expense.

“You know a Captain Nash?” Bobby asked Howie, who, dramatically, shook his head, obviously trying not to laugh himself, “You?” Bobby asked Hen, who did a much more convincing head shake her face a mask of confusion.

“You?” Bobby finally asked Tommy. He swallowed his pasta, and his laughter, as he shook his head.

“Nope,” He answered with a shrug, lips threatening to quirk.

“Uh…” Evan started, his eyes widening and his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “Um…”

Finally Cap let him out of his misery with a smile, pulling the empty seat at his side out from the table.

“Take a seat, Evan,” He said, and finally Tommy could let his laugh free.

It came out louder than he expected, a full body laugh instead of the chuckle he’d been anticipating, but Evan had just looked so incredibly adorable with the dear in headlights look in his blue eyes, with the nervous fidgeting belied by a smile, with the way he jumped at the sound of Tommy’s laughter before laughing along with everyone else. A giant grin spread across Evan’s face, a flush gracing his cheeks and he ducked his head as he sat in the offered seat.

“Thanks,” Evan said before looking around at the plethora of plates on the table, then at everyone sitting around him. His blue eyes met Tommy’s and Tommy felt his heart literally skip a beat in his chest as that grin was turned in his direction.

“This is amazing,” Evan gushed, turning away from Tommy and beginning to load his plate, “Is it always like this?”

“Always,” Hen agreed, sharing a smile with Tommy and Howie. Tommy smiled back at her with a nod, while Howie swallowed his pasta.

“Well,” He added, “When Bobby’s in the Captain’s chair, anyway.”

Evan smiled, ducking his head again as if trying to hide the look of disbelief that flashed across his face.

“Think I might be in the right place,” He said, mostly to himself, and begun to dig into his plate of spaghetti.

Tommy diverted his eyes from Evan, finally, and spun his spaghetti onto his fork, willing his heart rate to even out. He could feel Hen’s eyes on him from across the table and he risked a glance towards her.

She was looking at him with contemplation in her eyes, the look eerily similar to the one she got when she had just figured out some confusing medical emergency. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her in the universal signal for what? and she looked between himself and Evan before raising her own in return. Tommy felt his cheeks start to heat, as he took another bite of pasta and broke eye contact with Hen.

Fuck.

He’d had a plan. He was going to leave the 118, start anew someplace else, and finally stop lying to everyone around him, the way he had finally stopped lying to himself. He had decided it would be easier to be open with new people who didn’t really know him before; someplace he didn’t have a history.

But then his transfer had fallen through, and he’d had to add an extra year or so onto the timeline he’d set himself.

But maybe this was the Universe’s way of making sure he stuck to that timeline, regardless. This kid’s adorable awkward confidence and Tommy’s apparent inability to mask his reaction to it was going to be the thing to out him. He could feel it in the flush of his cheeks and the beating of his heart, in the smile he couldn’t seem to drop as Evan began his next sentence with Did you know..?

He looked back up from his plate, and over to Evan again, letting his macho mask fall as Evan’s face lit into an excited smile at one of Chimney’s dramatized stories of their saves.

Tommy wondered if, maybe, he was in the right place too.

#bucktommyweek #bucktommyweekend #bucktommy #kinkley #tevan #kinley #whatever their shipname is #bucktommy fanfic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 #911 abc #911 fanfiction #katy writes #katywrites

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writteninlunarlight-years · 19 hours

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Can I request headcanons for Raphael, Haarlep, and Zevlor being jealous of some guy is flirting with their female s/o although she's oblivious that he's flirting with her? He's so possessive that he even took her back home to have a heated make-out while holding her close & his tail wrapped around her leg!

I love a Possessive man. I'm not even going to lie. I always get asked if I met a guy in the books or fics I read how I would handle them. In theory, I would love it; in practice, I am a sassy beach and would probably not last.

HEADCANON~~~~~~Haarlep, Zevlor, Raphael

Haarlep-

He couldn't believe the fact he was so irate at this moment. Like he has never felt more than real lust since that was what he was incarnated for. Right now, though, it was as if he was a Demon of Wrath instead of a Demon of Lust.

How could you be so damn oblivious? You just sat there smiling with that stupid, adorable, cute smile.

You were perfect inside and out, something he didn't see in many people. You were the woman of his dreams. That wasn't an easy feat for a demon that could literally bed anyone.

You were his and his alone, so why was another demon standing so close to his woman.

(Haarlep would literally be the iconic TV trope of a partner breaking a champagne or wine glass in hand out of anger. Man is one for theatrics. Come on.)

It was all over after the demon talking to you touched your face to move some hair behind your ear. Before you could even process what was happening, Harrlep was on top of the other demon, practically torturing him.

Once Raphael dismissed and sent him on his way, he grabbed you and took you to his room.

Mans is a pacer when he fears his emotions are too big to handle right then.

Once calmed down, especially by your words, he just turned to you and, with no hesitation, kissed you passionately.

Let's be honest: Haarlep is a man of business. He doesn't play around.

As extra reassurance, you wouldn't leave him for three weeks straight; his tail was wrapped positively around your thigh or waist, constantly teasing you and testing others.

Zevlor-

I'm not going to lie. In my first playthrough, I punched Zevlor, so I can confidently say Mans is a big baby. He plays it off cool, but once his ego is hurt, he tanks Man, and it's so cute.

Watching the male tiefling flirt with you was literally hell on earth. Might as well have Avernus burning around him as you laugh at that stupid demon's jokes.

This party to celebrate your victory was supposed to be a night for you and him to sneak off and consummate your relationship before the long journey through the shadowlands. (If you know, you know, and I cry every time)

Man is more of a self-deprecating jealous than a wrathful jealous. So, unlike Haarlep, who just waits to explode, Zevlor is coming up with 1000 reasons why the other demon is so much better for you.

Zevlor becomes withdrawn and makes his way to his maps and equipment for the expedition, no longer interested in the party.

If he can't see his heart get broken, how can his heart get broken, you know?

However, what this man loved about you most was that you picked up on so many subtle clues. So, with little time between his self-deprecating and abandonment of the party, you were at his side.

The man couldn't even look you in the eyes. He was so sure he would fuck something up.

After some gentle coaxing, he finally listens to you and holds you so gently, kissing you fiercely and passionately.

(He may leave a few hickies or ten to really make sure everyone knew you were taken)

While on the road to Baldur's Gate, he never took his tail from around your waist. He kept you close and secure next to him.

God forbid the tiefling from the party even remotely gets too close to you. That tail might go to other places to prove a point.

Raphael-

He is far too prideful and egotistical to physically show anyone or anything in general how upset he is that another man is talking to you.

He would rather burn in hell under his father's thumb than admit he is jealous.

He knows at the end of the day, you are his. I mean, he had your soul. The first night you two consummated, he took it from you.

That didn't stop the nagging feeling he had watching you laugh, smile, and, in his eyes, flaunt what was his.

Being prideful, Raphael's approach to removing the threat was simple. He simply reminded everyone how powerful he really was.

All it took was a quick interjection into the conversation and not so-subtly informing the lingering demon about how his father was a king of hell.

Once the threat was taken care of, he turned to you. Oddly enough, with a simple, commanding look, you knew it was time to retreat to your shared quarters.

Before you could make it through the door fully, you were slammed against a wall, mouth covered by his.

By the end of the night, you had more marks covering your body than you cared to admit, but damn, at least everyone knew who owned you.

After that incident, at every gala or event he held, you were to sit on his lap with his tail wrapped firmly around your body.

If you behaved well, he would use his tail elsewhere, too.

I had a lot of fun writing this; when I first joined Tumblr many moons ago, this wasn't a huge thing, so this is my first time writing one of these. I really hope I didn't disappoint. Thank you so much to everyone from Annons to other blogs for the help and support in beginning my journey to writing! I appreciate all of you!

#baulders gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #raphael bg3 #raphael #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #zevlor x reader #bg3 zevlor #haarlep #bg3 haarlep #bg3 raphael #house of hope #raphael the cambion

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marredmusings · 1 day

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umm so i wrote a little fic/blurb idk i don't think it's good but it's something that's been stuck in my head for a while with my own little oc named grace but her name is only mentioned a few times so it could totally be ignored and seen as reader.

anyway this is my first ever fic so please be kind to me and if you have suggestions or other fic ideas i'd love to hear them.

not proof read and lowercase intended.

and if you think it's awful please lie to me i'm fragile 😔

deny

you are a lover girl. a hopeless romantic, someone who dreams of finding "the one" and living happily ever after. kie often says you tend to fall in love a little with everyone you meet. you can't help it though, you have so much love in you, it feels like you'll burst at the seams if you don't share it with others.

you think you're in love with your best friend jj maybank. no one understands you the way the wild blond haired boy does. no one can communicate with you with just a single look the way jj does. no one makes your heart beat out of your chest and your tummy flutter the way his dimpled smile does, eyes crinkling at the corners, a slight sunburn on his nose because lord know that boy doesn't use the sunscreen you bought him.

so yeah you're in love with jj maybank but then yesterday a different boy kissed you. pope heyward, your other best friend, genius extraordinaire whom you thought was maybe in love with kie but no- he kissed you and you felt a tingle in your ever beating heart. heat filled your cheeks and your ears became fuzzy. that was a new feeling when it came to pope. it made you excited to explore because as much as you love jj, you don't think the boy would ever return your undying affection because your friendship meant too much.

----

you stood in the threshold of popes bedroom, gasp stuck in your throat, eyes wide and mouth open at the sight before you. you’re not sure how to process what you’re seeing.

before you on the bed that pope kissed you on not even 24 hours ago, is jj maybank, your closest friend, kissing the heyward boy.

so many emotions flow through you at the sight before you.

shock because not once has jj; or pope for that matter mentioned or even hinted that they liked men- or each other. then again, jj has always liked beautiful people and pope is certainly that.

sadness because you and pope had literally just kissed. maybe you were naive to think a simple kiss meant something more to the boy, but it was pope, you don't think there's a mean bone in his body. then again you’ve always been too much of a romantic, too blinded to really see what’s in front of you. blinded by your want and need to be loved that perhaps you create situations in your mind that you interpret as reality? maybe you need to contact your therapist again. you're sounding even more delusional than before.

lastly, you feel jealousy. the angry green monster rumbling around in your tummy, making its way up your throat. you’re not sure what exactly is making you jealous because the image of the two boys kissing is surely confusing. are you jealous because pope is kissing another person who isn’t you? a part of you is jealous because he’s kissing jj. or maybe it’s that jj is kissing pope or that maybe they’re kissing eachother and they're not kissing you? you're not sure at this point. dear diary jealousy is a disease babes, and you are infected.

you must have made a noise because next thing you know, the two boys are pulling apart, a string of spit still connecting them and for a second your love rattled brain is jealous of it. the spit that is, because deep down you’ve always known that you wanted them both… to be the one to connect them. you feel slightly crazy being jealous of spit.

jjs face goes beat red and then flushes pale, like a ghost. he looks terrified and like he might vomit all over the floor in a second.

“grace!” popes panicked voice reaches your ears but they’re still kind of ringing from the shock of seeing your supposedly straight best friends kiss.

in your heartbroken haze you wonder if you're being a bad ally right now. you love the gays you swear! you just never pictured pope and jj as being a part of the gays ™.

you clear your throat, “jb and kie are waiting for us downstairs. we were going out on the boat today, remember?”

you try and say that as gently as possible because jj still looks like he’s going to pass out and pope isn’t much better.

popes hands are shaking as he reaches for you and a part of you wants to pull away but you’re not mean. you’ve never been mean so even if your feelings are hurt you’ll always put your best friends feelings above your own. and it looks like pope needs to touch you. maybe to hold your hand and reassure him you’re really standing there, witnessing something that you probably shouldn’t have.

so many emotions flicker through popes eyes. you can’t really see his blush but you’re sure if you touch his face it would be hotter than the sun.

pope grabs your hands in his shaking ones. you can feel how clammy they are and you hazard a look back to jj who has yet to even move. you’re a little concerned he’s gone into shock.

you let out a soft sigh and smile at the boys, a smile that is mostly genuine.

you squeeze popes hand and make eye contact with the panicked blonde boy on the bed.

“it’s ok jj. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” you speak kindly, as if you’re talking to a scared feral cat.

you only see jj swallow hard. “for what it’s worth, i understand the appeal... wanting to kiss pope and all.” you tease hoping to cut the obvious tension in the room. you feel like you're the one choking now.

jj and pope both let out huffs like they’re afraid to laugh but also relieved you’re not upset.

“you’re not mad?” jj croaks like he still has a frog lodged in his throat. he looks at you with soft wonder, like you’re the best thing in his life. his stare makes your tummy flutter.

“of course not. you guys are my best friends. i only ever want you to be happy!” you reply honestly. jj deserves happiness after the shit life he’s been dealt. he deserves good things and if you have to set aside your feelings in order for him to have good things then by golly you’ll do that.

“grace, about yesterday-“ pope starts off,

“don’t worry buddy, already forgotten.” you cut him off. hopefully saving him the strife of having to apologize to you about the kiss and saving you the embarrassment of him telling you he regrets your kiss. you don't think you could survive hearing that out loud.

you march over to jj still holding popes hand, effectively dragging the boy with you. you throw your arms tightly around jjs neck and after a heartbeat, jj returns your hug. you move your head to look at pope and nod at him, encouraging him to join the hug.

“now c’mon. you know how pissy jb gets when he’s made to wait” you giggle.

you lead the boys out of popes room and home and into the twinkie without giving them an option of saying no.

“finally! i thought y’all died or something. what took so long” john b huffs in exasperation.

“my fault jb!” you quickly chirp so the boys don’t have to panic and think of a lie “pope showed me the new book he got and it’s my favourite and i starting gushing and you know me i can’t shut up and… well i forgot why i went up to get them in the first place” you giggle with a sheepish smile.

“you’re so lucky you’re cute, grace” kie laughs teasingly.

you see pope and jj making eye contact. you have a feeling you might need to play therapist for them soon. pope doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings without beating around the bush and well, jjs favourite thing to do is deny deny deny.

actually, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do too! deny you have feelings for pope. deny you have feelings for jj. deny you ever saw them kiss and deny that them kissing only upset you because you weren’t a part of it. deny that a part of you enjoyed it. deny that your feelings matter in this situation and deny that if given the chance, you’d love to be in between a beautiful jj maybank and pope heyward sandwich.

yep, deny deny deny. this is gonna be a long freaking summer.

#jj maybank #kiara carrera #obx #outer banks #pope heyward #jj maybank x reader #pope x reader x jj #jj maybank x oc #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x oc #john b routledge #my fic #obx fanfiction #obx fic

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utilitycaster · 14 hours

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💙💜

Which character is not as hot as everyone else seems to think?

We've talked about this in DMs anyway but OTOHAN. She's physically attractive I suppose, although that's 100% from official art and absolutely not from initial description (perhaps that's just me, but Matt described her as having eyes like a bird of prey, and somehow the image of her in my head has always been. does anyone remember the weird turkey pictures of Ole Golly in Harriet the Spy (the book). Is this too weird a pull? Did I make it up because I can't seem to find an online image? Unclear.) But point being before the official art came out I was not imagining her as attractive, even. And then there's personality. Like, yeah, you can say someone is hot based on just a physical image without knowing them; this is how celebrity works. But when you've only one got one singular physical image and it doesn't really match your mind's eye which isn't terribly attractive, anyway and then there's no personality but...I can't even say zealotry because we literally don't know anything about her motivations other than raw murder. I can't even enjoy the inherent eroticism of the sword. Anyway. If you want hot middle age women villains why not og Delilah before she became a loser, or Raishan's human form, or Ripley, or Avantika, or Vess deRogna, or Liliana. If you just want hot middle age women with a propensity for violence why not Deanna with Jerry the Goat. If you are specifically interested in the "milf" archetype (Otohan is not a mother, so this is rather telling) then might I suggest Veth, who is not middle-aged yet but she is a mother and she is super good at violence. All of these women have hopes and dreams and personalities and aren't a blank dull slate to project upon, as I personally am entirely unattracted to the latter. Anyway hopefully this also fulfills one obligation to either @playerkingsley or @whirlingbadger who asked about "mischaracterized"; Otohan is a polarizing figure with many who agree with the above as well but she is also wildly mischaracterized as hot and interesting when she is at best depicted as attractive and deathly (and deadly) boring. She bored everyone to death; the sword just got in front of her.

Which character is way hotter than everyone else seems to think?

Eshteross. I fear we moved on too soon when he died. Everyone in Bells Hells wanted a slice of this hot old orc man when he was doing his sword practice, and also he was community-minded and loyal and devoted. More generally you know that post that's like "hobbits have it all figured out, farmers market high as shit, why are people horny for elves"? This is true but also might I suggests orcs. Elves are overrated. Why are people's fantasy lithe hairlessness. This is a very narrow beauty ideal and I reject it. We, as a fandom, and dare I say, a society, need to be hornier for orcs.

I'm going to go watch candela and the inbox remains closed and will for much of the rest of the day but there are two more asks that have the exact same two hearts and I will be providing two more separate answers as well as another mischaracterization answer, and possibly making an eye appointment although I'm inclined to think the hearts just look super alike on my computer.

#cr tag #unpopular opinions ask meme

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 2 days

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Aw those best friend hcs were fun! Can you do everyone else at the hotel? Especially Vaggie?

A/N: I absolutely can! I'll make a part 3 or edit this one if I somehow forget someone (it could happen). This is quite the little grouping 🤣 I hope you like it!

Having them as best friend's part two:

Includes: Vaggie, Sir Pentious, Niffty, and Cherri Bomb.

Part One

Vaggie

Her deal is tough love.

As her best friend, you're used to being called an idiot half a dozen times a day.

You'll just be chilling after making some decision or saying something and she'll be like: "Not only are you blind, you're fucking stupid too!" But it wouldn't hold any malice

She's never really been one for gossip, but you can bet that she'll listen to how your day was.

Definitely the friend who would interrogate anyone you show interest in.

If someone says something out of line about you, she's putting them in their place before you can open your mouth to defend yourself.

Vaggie isn't very touchy, but she'll hug you sometimes. Especially if it was something like after the battle and she was just happy you were alive.

She's almost always there to ward off the bad.

Sleepovers! They're never her idea, but she can't say no when you give her those puppy dog eyes.

Really, she's always there for you, but with a sibling dynamic that makes some question if the two of you really tolerate each other at all. You do, but barely lmao.

Sir Pentious

He's a drama king. Sweet, but definitely dramatic.

100% the friend to hold your drink at a party. . . Because he's HOLDING EVERYONE'S DRINK!

If you had to go anywhere, he's sending the Egg Bois with you. They call you 'not master' and it's the cutest thing ever.

Sleepovers would be his idea, no doubt. An offer that couldn't be refused.

He calmly interrogates any potential suitors of yours, and if they seem fine, he might let them go on a date with you.

Will literally cry if you call someone else your best friend. Friend's are okay. But if you called Angel Dust or Charlie your best friend? Immediate tears. "But. . . I thought I wasss your besssst friend." Apologize, right now.

Gives you some new weaponized invention and your favorite Hellish sweet treat every year on your 'death day'. He takes it very seriously.

He's all for the tea, but only if there's 100% truth behind it. Like you witnessed the HOTTEST tea of the month and just went 'Sir P NEEDS to know'.

Everyone mistakes the calmness and caring nature of Sir Pentious as having feelings for you. Common misconception. That's just your slithery best friend.

Y'all take naps together at random because you can. And naps are life.

Niffty

You're almost as chaotic as she is, but you're better at hiding it. Sorry not sorry.

Because of her, everything you own is cleaner than when you got it and you found it disturbing at first, but eventually got used to it.

She climbs you like a tree and uses you to see better in large crowds.

She talks so fast half the time you could barely understand her until it clicked and you could reply.

She's very knife happy. Someone breaks your heart? "STAB! STAB! STAB!" Followed by maniacal giggles and her footsteps down the hall.

She tries new recipes and uses you as the taste tester to see if the others would enjoy it. The answer is usually yes.

Niffty is super blunt. She won't hold back a single thought, even if it could potentially hurt your feelings.

She rarely takes breaks, but when she does, her small frame is usually beside you, watching TV or relaying the latest drama she heard on the streets.

She's a good listener, but once again, she's also blunt.

Every picture of the two of you, she has that same far away look in her eye. Every. Single. One.

Cherri Bomb

She's a bad influence, that much is certain, but no amount of peer pressure could get you to do something you didn't want to do. That's why you're best friends.

She loves partying and dragging you out, but most nights, you stay in, which then in a way, forces her to stay in too.

"[Y/N/N], you bitch, why aren't you dressed? I thought we were going out tonight!" No. No you weren't.

She encourages you to step out of your comfort zone 24/7, because you're in Hell and it could only get so much worse.

She listens, but doesn't really pay attention all that much. There's almost always something else on her mind, but she makes it up to you somehow.

She'd probably push you down the stairs for fun if she felt like it.

Most likely to sing karaoke with you, absolutely plastered in a bar somewhere on the outskirts of the Pride Ring.

If you handed your cup to her to go to the bathroom, she'd probably misunderstand and drink it.

Glares at anyone who looks in your direction, purely because she doesn't trust very many at all.

Would reluctantly agree to a sleepover if you asked, just because you're her main bitch.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vaggie #sir pentious #niffty #hazbin hotel imagine #egg bois #cherri hazbin hotel

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star2stop · 1 year

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skittles lady for the soul <3 (or from the soul if you know what i mean)

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eddis-not-eeddis · 7 days

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#just saw another video of a korean woman who got her eyes “fixed” because she had an “ugly” face #and i just want to rip and tear and bite everyone in the plastic surgery business over there because NOOOOOOOOO #noooooooo #she was so beautiful #her eyes were gorgeous #she didn't need to “fix” anything to look pretty #she was already such a beautiful woman #my heart actually hurts every time a korean woman tells me she's not pretty yet because she still hasn't fixed her eyes or her nose #i'm literally sitting here gnashing my teeth #korean faces are so beautiful #korean woman are lovely to the point that i am actually probably sinfully covetous of their natural eyes and noses #why do we live in a world where beautiful people mutilate themselves to match such a completely arbitrary standard #if you think plastic surgery culture is bad in the u.s....it is #but this entire problem is on STEROIDS in south korea

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sunny12th · 1 year

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#goodmorning everyone i got 3 hours of sleep #i just think ya know the starks all have a lot of cannibalism going on. where is dany's cannibalism moments?#she should eat Eurons heart <3 in the Gods Eye #also she should lose her hair when she comes to power in westeros (whatever that looks like). she'll be the new Egg 🥚#i have no proof that she'll be taller than jon but the vibes are immaculant. jon is a short king and the shortest targ survivor #sam and dany would be bestiest #dany and arriane should resolve any issues by making out. this is real diplomacy. also dany needs a girlfriend #asoiaf #polls #mine #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf polls #dany and aegon should kill robert strong together. just the horror of it? the monster that killed your fam is literally a monster #they just keep hacking at him and he just keeps living and theyre both going a little mad until he's literally in pieces #they should trauma bond is my point

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confessioncassette · 5 hours

Text

The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader

18+. minors do not interact.

thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.

part 2

tw : no smut this chapter. angst. alastor being a jerk. mild gore/wound

words : 5.3k

notes : i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

When you wake the next morning, your head is a blur. Sitting up in your bed you take a minute to look around your new living situation. It takes a second to understand that this isn’t the room you usually wake up in but, despite all of that, you feel good.

The reality of being in hell was hard on you yesterday. You’ve had your little breakdown and denial fest.. you won’t let that bother you today. Pushing past things is how you manage. Always one step at a time. Plus, you’re in a place that offers redemption now. What’s done is done and now you can focus on how to get into heaven and maybe sort out a plan there. With God or something, right?

He’s literally God, maybe he could help your situation on earth. You doubt anyone here could help you… or even want to help you.

No headaches, your body doesn’t burn… today feels like you can start fresh. Rolling to get out of bed, your eyes catch a bundle of red in the corner of your eye.

Three red peonies tied together in a bow lay delicately over your unoccupied pillow.

You examine the vibrant flowers and thumb around the stems. You wonder who was thoughtful enough to give a simple yet welcoming gift.

Alastor’s fleeting expression and charming smile snatches your memory from last night. Your face almost burns, remembering how close he was to you, his face grazing against your cheek, breath fanning over you as it does.

Smiling to yourself, you think today would be a good day to get back on track. Charlie is willing to help you, and you might learn more about the gentleman from last night. You can even thank him for the lovely flowers.

The hotel buzzes with life when you walk to the formal dining room. Delicious breakfast foods waft through the air. The warm smell of coffee buzzes through your body.

“C’mon Husky, don’t chya wanna try it? I’ve been slavin’ over this all mornin’ for ya!” A tall, fluffy man leans over the dining room table, sliding a plate of food to a grumpy cat.

“Fuck no! Satan knows what you put in there and I don’t wanna risk dying twice.” Taking a swig from a browned bottle, the cat pushes away the plate.

The tall man’s shoulder slump as he lets out a groan. “Fine, but one day you’re gunna try my cookin’ and you’ll love it. You might even beg for moore.” He teases, taking the plate for himself as Husk rolls his eyes.

“Oh, good morning! How was your first night?” Charlie beams from the head of the table and everyone’s heads swivel to you. Suddenly, you’re on the spot.

“It was great, thank you. I actually had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you smile, “I needed it.”

“Everyone welcome our new guest! She arrived late last night.”

It was a small creature with a giant eye who lunged herself toward you first. Her little legs patting the floor and up your body before you could react.

“I’m Nifty, I clean.” A sinister giggle erupts from her lips before the tall man who offered.. Husk is it?.. a plate gently and removes her from you.

“Hey doll, I’m Angel.”

Alastor watches from the hallway as the group introduces themselves to you. Hidden in the shadows, he watches you closely. The way you smile fondly towards people you barely know, how you embrace each one with a greeting. Clearly, you lighten the room. But you’re a mystery, and one he doesn’t want to get involved with.

Does he?

Your sweet doe eyes are burned in a memory. He couldn’t help but get close enough to smell you, and fuck, did your saccerine smell burn through his nostrils as well. He could see your panic, the reality of your new eternal life smacking you in the face… the frustration it caused you last night.

But were you really keen on redemption? He could see the light beam behind your eyes once you stood at the center of your room. You belong here, you’re here for a reason. It’s hell afterall. Every sinner who comes here belongs to this wretched place to burn forever. Surely Charlie’s delusions didn’t persuade you in one night?

Surely you’re not that…simple?

“Will Alastor be joining us for breakfast? He’s the only one I haven’t seen this morning.” Alastor ears perk up at your voice from afar.

“Ehh, smiles doesn’t usually eat with us. Probably up in his room going to town on some animal he caught this mornin’.” Angel grimaces.

Watching your reaction closely, the slight fall of your face doesn’t go unnoticed. But you’re quick to recover with a smile and dig in with everyone else.

“Okay everyone! Gather around! Today we will be learning about each other.” Charlie’s hand gestures to you on the couch as everyone else filters into the common room.

Angel plops himself over the couch’s armchair next to you, stretching his long legs over your thighs. Husk mopes in the room, bottle in hand and leans against the fireplace. Nifty props herself over the table happily swinging her legs and Vaggie stands beside her partner, eyeing everyone down.

Your eyes carefully glance around the room, trying not to bring attention that you’re looking for Alastor. From your comment at breakfast before, you don’t want to keep bringing the man up to avoid conversations you don’t want to have.

But it fails.

“Looking for tall dark and creepy?” Angel shimmies his chest and throws you a wink.

Rolling your eyes you push playfully at Angel’s leg. “No, just making sure everyone is here.” Giving him a side eye you whisper, “nosey.”

Angel laughs and gives you a nudge, “Well looks like you’re in luck toots, looks who’s comin’.”

Perking up, you watch Alastor’s tall form stride in the room and take a seat in an armchair directly across from you. His smile is wide, but it seems strained? Folding one leg over the other, he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes scan the room, probably checking for roll-call, before landing directly over you.

You give a smile but he doesn’t react.

“Okay! Now that everyone is here, we will be telling 2 truths and a lie. Everyone will say two truths about themselves and one lie. The group will have to guess which one is a lie. So fun!” Charlie claps.

“I don’t want to put our new guest on the spot, so let’s start with Husk.”

A low groan emits from the fireplace where Husk stands. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but maybe he’s been here long enough to know that he has to participate.

“Alright, uh, I can down a whole bottle of whiskey with no reaction, I suck at dice games, and I hate water.”

“I’ll give you something to down, Husky~” Angel tosses his head back and blows him a kiss.

“For fuckssake,” Husk rolls his eyes.

“Oh oh! I know, the lie is he hates water! I’ve seen him take bubble baths at night.” Nifty giggles sinisterly.

“Okay good job, Nifty.” Vaggie cringes and turns her attention to you, “Would you like to give it a try next?”

Glancing between her and Alastor’s heavy stare, has he been looking at you this whole time? You shrug. “Sure, I'll give it a shot. Let me think…” You hum.

“I’ve been in hell for a long time, I love to dance and I’m pretty good at it, and I stole drugs when I was alive.” You’re not that great with coming up with things on the spot, but you gave it your best shot. First things that came to your mind and all without being too personal.

Angel drags out a hum, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you can dance. Not sure if I would paint you as someone who would steal. You act like Miss-goodie-two-shoes’s-distant relative over there. I’m gunna go with that one.”

You couldn’t help but contain your smile, you could have sworn that your appearance gave you away that you literally died just yesterday.

“Nope! I died yesterday and found this place last night. Thank god I saw your commercial, I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t.”

Angel’s mouth drops open and leans forward. “Hold on, you’re like, super fresh? No kiddin’. So… you stole drugs?” He looks you up and down, “can you do it again?”

“Matter of fact, we don’t know much about you. Anything at all really. I’ll take it you’re here because you stole, but there’s gotta be more than that.” Husk examines his bottle.

You shift in your seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I stole but- I don’t know.” Memories of stealing drugs, scamming people for money flood your mind. That stuff was bad, but did it really land you here in hell? I’m sure it’s a part of the 10 commandments or sins or whatever…

The man. Your knife.

You killed someone right before dying.

“What drugs do you like? I got some good connections. We could totally-”

“No! Nonono, no one is going to do that. Say no to drugs! Remember we are trying to get redeemed?” Charlie’s arms wave frantically as she lets out a nervous laugh.

It was all for protection. You never wanted to hurt anyone like that before, it’s not like you wake up blood thirty for killing. It was self defense.

Guilt bubbles within your gut, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Would they even care if you killed? You’re sure almost everyone in hell has killed, even in the afterlife.

“C’mon, toots, tell us a little about yourself. This is about sharing after-all,” Angel teases. “I wanna know all the shit you did when you were alive! You sound like a good time, Y’know my girl buddy would love you-”

“I think that’s enough for today.” A staticy voice interrupts the conversation. Your head swivels to meet the demon who carries a strained smile. The hair on his ears stick up in a frenzy while his claws grip over the top of his microphone cane.

“But Alastor we barely got star-”

“I think,” Alastors voice grows with static, every word pronounced precisely, “that is enough for today.”

Angel's legs slide off you as he stands to stretch, “Aww what a buzzkill.”

Before you have the chance to leave the room, your face is met with Alastor’s chest.

He lifts his chin, but his eyes bore down at yours. Your eyes shoot wide with the proximity, and something within his chest spurs as wait for him to speak.

“I would like to speak with you privately, my dear.”

Following him up the stairs and into his radio tower, you tread lightly in new territory. Papers over his desk are neatly stacked next to a forgotten cup of coffee. The walls are floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pride, you’ve come to know. Dusk stretches the horizon and little dots of light twinkle in the distance over the city. On the other side of the room, old equipment lined the wall. Hundreds of knobs and switches cover the machines and you wonder how he’s able to work such equipment. Speakers, extra microphones sat upon a bookshelf along with books, magazines and other nic-nacs you’re sure he has collected through the years.

You’re not sure how old the demon is, and you’re not sure how you haven’t thought about it since meeting him, especially when he has taken up most of your mind these past 24 hours.

You guess he’s from the roaring 20’s? 30’s? He’s dressed sophisticatedly with not a hair out of place. His posture paints him a perfect gentleman in a society where it mattered. His transatlantic accent was smooth and you long to hear it more than you should, or do. And guessing by this set up, the ON AIR sign that hangs directly over his desk, you could be right.

But what of this demon? What is his story? You’ll put a pin in it and ask angel later-

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here so I’ll cut to the chase.” Alastor’s arms are neatly behind his back as he looks over Pride. Without turning to you, he continues.

“I’m looking for more help around the hotel. Husk’s job is primarily tending to the bar, Nifty cleans and Charlie is over her head with trying to recruit sinners. I’d like to say that I have everything handled with paperwork and trying to keep this pace afloat, but I don’t.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. He.. can’t handle it all? He definitely gives the calm, cool collected attitude of one who would never need help.

“So, you need my help? I thought I was just a sinner trying to get redemption?”

Alastor stiffens for a moment before turning to you. “I thought you should know that Charlie and I had a discussion earlier. We think that you fit into the family seamlessly. We both thought you would be great at helping us with our little project.” He tilts his head, scanning you over, “Unless you don’t want to?”

You shake your head. This might not be a bad idea. This could actually help you in more ways than one. This could help you more with gaining redemption and be a part of a bigger picture.

“No, that all sounds great actually. What exactly do you have in mind for me to help you with?”

“More of the mundane things like checking over the hotel to make sure everything is in order, placing orders for food, toilet paper - the essentials.”

“So the mundane things you don’t want to do?” You laugh lightheartedly. “Sure, Alastor, I can do that for you. Do you have a check list for me?”

In one snap, Alastor conjures up a daily ‘to-do” list for you. Your eyes widen at his magic.

“If you can do that, why can’t you make food and toilet paper appear instead of ordering it?”

His smile is smug, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, little doe”

Turning on your heel, you say over your shoulder, “One day, I’d like to properly thank you for the flowers you left me.”

He watches you disappear through the doorway, confusion carved over his face. Flowers?

What an interesting thing to say… An odd woman.

Woman. Your presence had been the first in his studio.

Charlie and the guests know that no one is allowed in this room, for it’s locked 24/7. This room is his pride, his sanctuary and the one thing he’s carried on since dying. Besides killing and torturing innocent people, he supposes.

Clawing at the staff of his cane he shakes the thought of your company being… comforting.

His ear twitches in frustration. This foreign feeling- this odd hunger for catching your eye in a sea of others, to smell you near has become a twisted form of entertainment. He has to ignore the way his lower belly heats and aches when you're near…Is it entertainment? He stares at the door where you just stood.

Is his curiosity growing in the little moments you spend together or is it something he can’t pinpoint? His facade will fail to hold if he continues like this.

A predator assessing his pray like it’s a game. Except, it doesn’t feel like that kind of a hunt.

Stepping out from the bathroom after your nighttime routine, a darkness catches the corner of your eye.

“Hello?” you call out.

The darkness in the corner slithers across the floor and manifests itself in the center of your room.

You curse under your breath, while it’s not the craziest thing you’ve seen, it’s definitely unexpected.

“Um, hello there…” You stay standing in the doorway of your bathroom. Looking the creature over as it stands tall.

The creature, no, shadow, is dark, but you can make out that its body is made up of swirling smoke. It’s face gives a chiseled smile, imitating teeth through the smoke, and resting on top of it’s head were a pair of outgrown antlers that stretch wide.

You tilt your head at the creature, curious on why it hasn’t responded to you.

It tilts his head back, mimicking your movement.

“Cute,” you giggle, “what are you?”

The shadows' eyes glow green in response and gives you a bigger grin.

“Are you here at the hotel too? I just got here yesterday…” you shift on the balls of your feet. “Do you have a name?”

The shadow dissipates into the ground and for a moment, you’re spooked. Backing up into your bathroom, a coldness caresses your neck from behind.

Spinning around fast, you’re met with it again. The creature folds forward to meet your face.

Oh fuck no.

You fumble backwards a little too fast but the creature is quick to catch you by an arm. It steadies you easily.

“You’re.. Good, right? Friend?” The words fall stupidly out of your mouth. You feel like you’re talking to a child in simple words and a sweet voice. God knows that this creature is probably thousands of years old but you’re speaking to it like it lacks some form of intelligence.

The creature smiles and nods, backing away from you before wisping itself around your body in a cloud of smoke.

Warmth surrounds your body, unlike the coldness around your neck from before.

“Friend, okay…good.” You smile and embrace the dance it gives you.

The creature manifests itself over in front of your nightstand and the bundle of shadows steps aside to reveal the red peonies from this morning. Your eyebrows raise and realization hits you.

“That was you? What a lovely gift to give.. To me.” Surprise followed by stupidity hits you in the last bit of that sentence.

How could you be so stupid to think Alastor would give you those flowers? He hasn’t even spent much time around you, let alone want to speak to you. Every time you’re in the vicinity of him, he pretends you don’t exist.

Foolish.

Foolish to think that he would even take a liking to you.

And you mentioned it to him hours ago… God, he’s probably so confused and you look like a fucking idiot.

The shadow slumps at your reaction. Its swirls grow faster over its body, like the wheels in its head are thinking of a way to cheer you up.

Warmth caresses around your hips and playfully drags you to your bed. You let it happen because, for some ungodly reason, you trust this shadow.

It’s gentle hand lingers over your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek. A familiar feeling. Almost like the feeling of last night when Alastor’s-

No.

The creature lifts your chin to look at him as he takes a seat by you on the bed and you mentally brush away the cringe.

You both stare at each other for a moment. You're entranced by its odd behavior. Although, its presence feels familiar, a kind of nostalgia you cannot place. His warmth feels like a gentle hug, a friend in the darkness when you're alone.

The faint smell of whiskey, a bar of soap and lemongrass.

A warm song that dances inside your nostrils.

Your room is quiet, as you let the shadow tickle your face and neck.

Soft music begins to play when your eyes fight sleep. But you give into the lull of the shadows lullaby.

From that first night of meeting the creature, you’re woken up gently by it patting your head and urging you to get dressed. Funny enough, the creature disappears while you get ready, giving you privacy. But ultimately, you wouldn’t mind it at all if it stayed.

One night, after a particularly hard day working under Alastor, you named the being.

Umbra.

Not the most creative, but it was the first thing that popped in your head… and he, you’ve come to find out, was quite happy with the new nickname.

You weren’t sure where he came from, what he is, or what manifested himself to you that night, but you’re thankful for the company.

Umbra was quiet. He never spoke, but damn is he funny. Every night, he meets you in your room practically bouncing off the walls, or more so sliding everywhere in a mist of shadows and patiently listens when you talk about your day.

Every morning you wake up with new little flowers over your unoccupied pillow. Each of them a bundle of red, for some reason. But lovely all the same.

It became a nightly routine to where he’ll lull you to sleep with gentle caresses and soft old-timey music.

And it’s given you the best sleep of your life.

Alastor however, has been more distant than before. When asking for new lists everyday, he’ll stare down at you through lowered eyelids and hand you a list bigger than the last.

He never questioned your flowers comment, but you’re sure he hasn’t forgotten.

Though, through his aloof attitude, he still invades your personal space when talking to you - and he only talks to you when it’s absolutely needed. His stare burns new holes through you everyday before he locks himself up in his radio tower until dinner or Charlie's group exercises.

“Smiles has been such a fucking jerk lately, what did you do to’m?” Angel slumps over the armchair, preoccupied with texting.

“Me? He hardly talks to me! Everyday he’ll just hand me a list to do and disappears.”

“That’s exactly the problem, ever since he’s offered you a job here he’s been acting like there's a stick up his ass more than normal. You must being doin’ shit at your job.” He nudges you and you both laugh.

“Yeah, no idea. I try to talk to him. He’s the one person in this whole place I don’t even know about… but he ignores me.”

“I don’t think he completely ignores you, doll face. Do you notice how you’re the only thing he can look at when you’re around? Hard to get him to help Charlie lately, too.”

You blush and drag your gaze to the floor. “No, I didn’t notice that. What’s his deal anyways?”

Angel went into detail about how Alastor wa/is one of the most powerful overlords in the Pride ring. 7 years ago he disappeared or some shit but 7 months ago he came back and randomly ended up here. Some bullshit about wanting to help Charlie with her ridiculous delusions about saving a sinner. He’s just here for the ‘entertainment’, but he’s been a big help honestly. Especially in his battle during the extermination - before he got wounded.

Wounded? He could get hurt? A powerful overlord who has thousands of contracted souls could get… hurt? But there airs another question…

He doesn’t believe in redemption?

Your thoughts were cut short by a shadow carrying a mischievous grin lurking in the hallway. Umbra swirls in a mist of shadows as his eyes glow green and gestures for you to follow him.

Raising from the couch you head his way.

“Maybe he just needs some good head!” Angel calls out to you.

You follow Umbra as he slithers over the carpet, manifests himself over the walls and guides you upstairs. His cute grin makes you laugh, and you're excited to see what he has in store for you today.

Not noticing that you pass your own room, your eyes only watching Umbra flee with excitement, he leads you to a door at the end of a hallway. He turns to you, looking you once over and dissipates through the door.

Knowing you want him to follow, and without a second thought, your hand turns the knob and you fly inside Alastor’s radio room.

There, hunched over his desk wearing only his long sleeve undershirt and pants, Alastor’s back is turned to you.

“Who the fuck,” Alastor’s head turns over his shoulder, black eyes blown wide as his red pupils snap to you.

“Alastor- shit, I’m,” you back away, accidentally shutting the door behind you.

“Has anyone taught you proper manners? Don’t you know that walking in on someone is-” Every word cuts through you like a knife, the static in his voice grows louder in every syllable. The lights flicker around you as Alastor’s body grows larger in scale, his antlers growing wide.

“I didn’t know!” You yell honestly, you didn't know. Or, you weren’t paying attention.

“The door was locked, how did you get in here?” Red liquid oozes out of his mouth as his empty black eyes stare you down. But you’re not looking at the anger on his face, or the way his body engulfs the room. No, you're looking at how his arm covers a wound on his side. Your eyes scan to the side, where ointments and bandages lay askew over his desk.

“You’re hurt, Alastor.”

The radio demon stops, and for a moment, you catch surprise painted in his features.

“Let me help?” You offer, taking a step forward.

He doesn’t move.

“Get out.”

You step forward, unafraid of his form. He's hurt, and you can see the blood squelching against his hand, dripping to the floor.

You reach out, covering your hand over his bloodied one and your eyes flicker upwards to the beast before you.

A silent plea to let him help. If he’s been doing this on his own since the extermination, he hasn’t been doing a great job at mending it.

He gives a frustrated sigh, and shrinks back down to his normal self. Internally rolling your eyes at how easy that was to do… an all powerful overlord listening to you was a confidence booster to say the least.

You look down to assess the wound. His red undershirt wet and stained with blood on the right side of his torso.

You flash him a look for silent permission, and he nods ever so slightly, his eyes fixated on your face. You begin to unbutton his shirt from the top down. You scan your fingers delicately over his chest and down towards the wound. Alastor lets out a shaky sigh that goes unnoticed by you.

You expose his torso more by opening up his shirt to get a better look. Alastor leans back in his chair and curves his hips upwards ever so faintly. You swallow, fighting the demons in your head to take a closer look at his exposed body.

“Looks… bad.” You manage to say, focusing only on the wound before gentle fingers slide under your chin and angle your face upwards so he can see you fully.

And you swear, that for a moment, something swirls deep within his gaze. Something more than he lets on. A flash of hope? Eagerness?

Now’s not the time.

You clear your throat before grabbing supplies and getting to work.

Alastor was silent as you mended him. His eyes never left your face as you cleaned the wound and bandaged it neatly.

“All better!” You chime, doing your best to ignore the buzz on your chin from his touch, “Next time you try to do this yourself, try to find me? I don’t think it’s healed right for at least a couple weeks. You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten infected.”

“We’re in hell, dear, I’m sure there’s worse things to worry about than an infected wound.”

He didn’t even bother to say thank you.

Is this the sophisticated and well-mannered demon Charlie raved about? The helpful demon that made this hotel?

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and your shoulders shrug downward.

“Is there a reason why you’ve been so avoidant since I arrived? Everyone has been talking about how you’ve been acting differently since I showed up. Why is that? Did I do anything to you?” You avoid his eye contact by putting away the medical supplies inside a metal box.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. I’ve always been the same.” He leans back in his chair.

Something doesn’t add up.

“Everyone talks about how you’re this powerful overlord, yet you lock yourself up in this tower all day and night. They all talk about how you were always around and ever since me you’re nowhere to be found.”

“I’d watch your mouth, little doe.” He snarls, but doesn’t move from his chair.

You stand, and for once you’re just taller than him even when he’s sitting down. Stories you’ve heard, the things the other residents say about him - nothing is adding up. Angel even went out of his way to ask what the fuck you did to him to act like this.

“I can’t help but think that you’re trying to avoid me. Are you scared of me or something? Or do you just like to see me do all of your bitch work so you don’t have to look at me?”

“And why,” Alastor stands, towering over you. You never realized how much taller and broader he is compared to you. His entire frame engulfs your size. “Would I be scared of a pathetic, weak sinner who died so easily doing something so reckless and ended up here?”

A beat, “I’d go far as to say you’re forgettable in this cesspool. Why would I go out of my way to avoid that?” He hums, lowering to your level at the waist. You want to punch that smug smile on his face.

You ball your fists and keep his eye contact. You scrunch up your nose and grind out every word with anger, “That’s hilarious coming from someone who did the same. Not so different, you and I.”

You didn’t care enough to see his expression before turning on your heel and head straight to your room.

Sinking onto your bed, you throw your head between your hands with a groan.

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

It doesn't take long before a presence in front of you lingers, and a warm caress slithers over your cheek.

“Not now, Umrba. I’m not in the mood.”

Umbra’s smokey hand tugs gently at your arm, pulling it forward and causing your head to droop. You allow him to pull you up and into an embrace.

Scents of whiskey, soap and lemongrass once again fill your head. A lovely haze that you’ve come to cherish. A friend.

A comfort.

A beautiful melody fills the air, and swallows you whole. Umbra’s body shakes with a staticy old tune.

“I’ll never smile again, until I smile at you” The voices sing a beautiful sorrowful melody, filling the air. Umbra’s arms skate over you and places his hands in yours.

The stance of a dance.

Umbra guides your one arm over his back, there he rests the other around your waist. A close embrace that you happily welcome.

“For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize…”

Guiding your hips in a gentle sway, you rest your cheek on his torso. The both of you sway to the melody slowly in your dimly lit room.

And, like always, the shadow doesn’t say a word. And maybe you like it that way. With all the chaos pounding loudly in your head, Umbra can always grant you the safe space you need. No judgment, no games.

No words.

Umbra pulls you around in a dizzying spin on your toes, earning a giggle from you. The music crescendos softly.

“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…”

Guiding you around your room, you follow his lead. Wisps of smoke trail after him and curl at the bottom of your feet. Warmth is all you can feel.

You’re picked up swiftly and spun like a child before being placed softly in your bed. Umbra continues to play the melody until you are cast away in blissful sleep.

“Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again, until I smile at you.”

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