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flower-boi16 · 13 days

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Top 5 Best & Worst Characters in Hellaverse

So, for the most part, Hellaverse has pretty meh to bad characters. Buuuuut, there are a few decent/good ones, so, just for fun, let's go over the top 5 best AND worst characters in Hellaverse (in my opinion).

5. (Worst) Stella

So Stella. Stella, Stella, Stella...you had so much potential to be interesting...but you just...aren't. Just for the record I don't think making Stella abusive is a retcon since it doesn't contradict any of her past behavior in season 1 minus like...one background painting.

That's not really my problem with Stella being abusive. My problem is that it makes her boring and the show does that as a way to woobify Stolas. Really not much to say, she's just...boring.

5. (Best) Octavia

It's pretty funny how Octavia is pretty much the most beloved character in the critical community. She's both decently likable and is a bit interesting when you look at her, as she's a girl who was negatively affected by her fathers' actions and is dealing with the negative changes that have happened to her due to her parents always arguing...

...also her father is Stolas so she is therefore the most sympathetic character by default. Really, there aren't that many good characters in either Hazbin or Helluva, and Octavia isn't an amazing character, she only appears in like, two episodes, but she's still fine by herself and is one of Viv's better characters.

4. (Worst) Charlie

I already made a full post about the issues with my problems with Charlie as a character so I won't once again go very deeply here. You're probably wondering why Charlie is even here to begin with since I stated that I don't exactly hate her.

...well, just because I don't hate a character doesn't really mean I like that character. A majority of Hazbin's characters have similar problems of not being that developed at all and the development they do have often feels rushed. The reason why I put Charlie as the 4th worst character in Hellaverse is because, well, out of every character in Hazbin's main cast...Charlie is just kind of the one with the biggest issues.

Again, I already talked about my issues with Charlie in my post about her but just to recap; Charlie suffers from being heavily underdeveloped, she isn't a very compelling protagonist and has 0 growth throughout the show. She learns absolutely nothing. Her mentality is never once challenged by the narrative and she is always portrayed as right and anyone who disagrees with her is automatically wrong, and she also feels heavily overshadowed by the rest of the cast despite being the main character.

Charlie is also not the best person at times like some people have pointed out (she KNOWS THAT ANGEL IS BEING ABUSED and she chooses not to do anything about it. Wow, what a great friend), and overall she kinda sucks as a protagonist.

4. (Best) Lucifer

I've seen Lucifer gain a lot of flak from people with them calling him a bad person and it's not entirely unjustified. I can definitely understand why it may be hard to sympathize with the guy who literally greenlit annual genocides of his own people because he thought that they deserved death.

Not to mention him calling Charlie a "failure" in the pilot which is just...never addressed here. Also it's fairly weird that despite Lucifer being the sin of pride...he isn't really prideful of anything...? So ya, there a few issues with Lucifer as a character.

In spite of that though, I don't think that Lucifer is a particularly bad character. If anything, he's actually one of the more well-developed of the main cast and he has an arc that's decently compelling...?

He initially started out as a dreamer, someone with many creative and imaginative ideas for Heaven, but his ideas were always rejected and he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven.

After he was cast down to Hell as punishment for accidentally letting evil seep into the world, he lost his will to dream and fell into depression, having a heavily cynical view of Heaven and Hell due to his past experiences. He closes himself off and doesn't stay in contact with his loved ones, mainly his daughter due to his depression. He tries convincing Charlie into his cynical views because he doesn't want his own daughter to face the same crushing rejection he faced.

However, he reconnects with his daughter and brings back a spark in him that was lost long ago, and he promises to support Charlie and her dreams, despite his depression not immediately disappearing.

Admittedly that part is pretty rushed, like Charlie just says "but dad...mah people!!!!" and he's just like "ok". Again, it's not perfect and has some small issues, but compared to most of Hazbin and Helluva's other characters, Lucifer's arc is far more well-developed and is interesting in it's own right. If anything, Lucifer thinking that his people deserve death simply shows his cynical mindset that he's had for years, and Charlie's able to bring back that dreamer that was crushed long ago.

So ya. Lucifer is not amazing, but I like him. He's neat.

3. (Worst) Chaz

Chaz sucks. Chaz is a character that only exists just to make a bunch of unfunny sex jokes and nothing else. He is completely one-dimensional and is nothing more than a walking sex joke. And his "jokes" aren't even remotely funny.

I really don't have much to even say about Chaz. He's just THAT one-note.

3. (Best) Velvvette

I've talked about my thoughts on Velvvette before so I won't go too in depth here again. Buuut needless to say I think she's probably my favorite character in hellaverse. She's one of the few antagonists Viv's made that's actually entertaining and fun to watch, with a well-developed and charismatic personality that's not just "asshole who swears a lot". She isn't the best character in hellaverse though, but she has far more depth as a character compared to most of the other antagonists.

2. (Worst) Adam

I've spoken about my thoughts on Adam before multiple times so at this point I don't know if I have anything left to say about him. Adam is a boring, one-dimensional character with very little depth or personality as a character. He only exists just to be a pure straw character so he can be proven wrong by Charlie.

He can't have any real depth as a character because he only exists just to be torn down by the story. Again, already talked about that in a previous post so I won't go too in-depth here, but needless to say...ya, Adam still sucks.

2. (Best) Alastor

Like Lucifer, I've seen Alastor gain a heavy amount of criticism but personally, like Lucifer, I think Alastor is one of the better characters in the main cast. The has a sense of mystery and intrigue to him that makes him pretty interesting as a character. You're left wondering what his whole deal is & what he's planning.

That combined with Alastor's charisma makes him an entertaining antagonist for the show. He's one of the few characters that I'm interested in to see what they do with in the next season. So ya, I like Alastor...

Now time to get to a character that makes me want to punch myself in the face.

1. (Worst) Stolas

.....Honeslty what can even be said about Stolas that hasn't already been said? I've made so many posts complaining about this stupid owl and you already know my opinion of him at this point. If you really want to know every single critique of Stolas I have, read every post I've made that's tagged "anti stolas". But...I'll just say this.

Stolas could have been a good character. Hell, he could have been the show's BEST character. He had all the potential to be super interesting and compelling character with a great arc...but instead, Viv decided to completely retcon everything season 1 established in order to try and make Stolas an UwU soft boy the show REALLY wants us to sympathize for, in spite of Stolas being a bad person.

I'm sorry if I can't sympathize with the guy who SA's an lower class imp for his own pleasure and frequently neglects his own daughter and pays more attention to st. imp. And, as an artificial way to make Stolas sympathetic, the narrative has to wipe away any actual flaws he has and demonize any character that even remotely gets upset at his actions (which I talk about here), because god forbid we hold Stolas accountable for ANYTHING right? We have to coddle and absolve him of ALL his mistakes despite his flaws being what made him interesting in the first place.

Stolas NEVER grows or develops as a character because of this and so he has basically no character arc. Not only is he a poorly written mess of a character...he's also just BORING now. There's nothing interesting about him anymore, he's just an UwU sad sack. He had so much potential to be interesting but that potential was completely wasted in favor of this bullshit.

And THAT's what makes Stolas SO FRUSTRATING. Really, he pretty much represents HB, and, to an extent, all of Hellaverse as a whole; it started out good with a lot of interesting ideas and potential but through bad writing, all of that potential got squandered and now we're just left with a completely disappointing mess.

Stolas is the worst character in the show because he's the only one who legitimately FRUSTERATES me. He's my least favorite character in all of fiction and a complete mess.

1. (Best) Sera

I already talked about Sera before in a previous post so I won’t go too in depth here, but Sera is one of hellaverse’ better antagonists for having more depth and nuance as a character. She’s the head seraphim of Heaven and greenlit exterminations in order to protect Heaven….and Emily.

In spite of that though, she clearly doesn’t want to do this and is only doing it because she wanted to try and protect her people, and Emily, who she clearly cares deeply for as her older sister. She’s a lot more compelling as a character that most of hellaverse’ antagonists, not being good or evil but rather morally grey, having nuances to her as a character.

To me, Sera is the best character in all of Hellaverse because she's the one with the most nuance and depth compared to 90% of Viv's other characters, especially her antagonists. She actually has REAL DEPTH and complexities to her that make her a lot more interesting compared to most of Viv's characters. Hell, most of the characters in the best list are put there BECAUSE they are just more developed than most of the other characters (which just shows how bad Viv is at character writing)

Like Alastor, she's one of the few characters that I am interested in seeing what they do next with season 2, as she is likely going to get a redemption there. Well just have to see. But for now, Sera is the best character in all of Hellaverse.

So...ya...that was my top 5 best and worst characters in Hellaverse...

....bye.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel criticism #anti stolas #spindlehorse critical #spindlehorse criticism

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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What’s fasinating about the d&d movie is that it is all the fun of d&d removed from the rigid restraints of the the clunky game system: Thrills and laughs and hairbrained schemes minus the minutia of needless rolls or waiting for your turn in initiative to circle around. Part of this is idealization, but as someone who’s obsessed with making my favorite game system the most fun possible I can’t help but draw some comparisons.

Combat: Holga’s fight scenes were a highlight of the film for me, displaying a huge amount of kinetic creativity as she pinballed between different combatants swapping out weapons, bouncing off the surrounding terrain . This is a far, far cry from how being a fighter plays out at the table, as most martial characters are focused into doing just one type of attack as good as they can because it’s their only reliable contribution to combat. Try to model Holga’s fights in game and you’d be caught in a boring slog of dealing 1d4+STR damage to a bunch of guards whittling away at their hitpoint pools, a far cry from the lighting quick flury of smashing, bashing, and flips that make her the film’s action setpiece.

What d&d needs is a system for combat that exists alongside the traditional damage/HP paradigm: an additional layer of complexity for martial characters that encourages tactical thinking and lets those who do their damage up close feel just as cool and as clutch as casters. My mind’s already whirling thinking up something that revolves around stuns, suckerpunches, and positioning, so expect it later this week.

Powercreep: This might be subjective but I find it fascinating that the official stats put out for the party has them hovering around level 16, a point in character progression a)that most characters never get to b) by which the game’s difficulty systems have begun to break down. I suspect this was done in order to keep their on-screen abilities in line with how they are in the base rules, but I can’t help but feel like its odd for the “idedalized” dnd experiance to be playing around with toys that most groups will never get their hands on.

In my experience d&d is on a sliding scale of stakes V Shenanigans, with the exact ballance evolving over the course of a campaign: Your group starts out as a bunch of dumbfucks and at some point while you’re making making absolute fools out of yourselves you become a found family just in time for the consequences of your actions to circle back around and threaten the realm. First the characters start caring about eachother, then they care about the world, then they have to save that world. Level 16 is, for me, distinctly in “save the world” territory, despite the fact that the HaT crew are clearly still figuring out who they are and what they care about. It makes me wish D&D was more free with its shenanigan enabling magic/items/class features at lower levels to help fuel these kinds of antics.

Attunement: Perhaps the best “ oh I’m totally going to steal this” moment came from Simon’s attempt to attune to the helm of disjunction. Turning what was otherwise a rote game mechanic into an oppertunity for character growth was genius on behalf of the writers, though one I’d only really employ with items that were as necessary for my plots as the helm was for the heist. Just like Simon’s major flaw was self doubt, I could easily see delicious storytelling potential in throwing up other emotional hurdles depending on the situation: A hero’s sword refusing to attune to the haunted survivor until they’ve come to terms with what they’ve done, an otherwise altruistic character being forced to admit their sin and self interest by an evil-aligned artifact.

Over all, I really enjoyed the movie, though paradoxically It didn’t hook me as much because for me one of the biggest charms of fantasy is the feeling of discoverying a new world, and I’ve been living the d&d world for the past 20 years so it didn’t come of as wild and magical as it could have been, having hewn so close to established d&d material.

#dapper digresses #dnd meta #d&d hat #honor among thieves

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rinbowaman · 6 months

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ↀOUBLE IIROUBLE - CHAPTER TWELVE

For once, there isn't any smut....HOWEVER.....

Warnings: mentions of murder, implications of gruesome torture, collection of body parts/organs, secret family history, intentions of murder, restraint, forcefully restraining y/n, some hints of conspiracy, conspiring others to hold a secret, cursing...think that's it. I really do feel bad for y/n in this one….This also isn't proofread....sorry. -___-

Next chapter is series finale! Be ready y’all!

It had been two days since Danny confronted you and the boys, revealing his knowledge of your hidden love affair and unexpected pregnancy. You bit your nails out of anxiety, staring out the window and watched as each drop of rain trails down the glass. You became so overwhelmed and nervous, you feared the worst and furthermore, despite his claims of not informing your mother, you wondered if Danny had divulged the details of what you had been doing with your twin stepbrothers for the last nine months, ever since she and Danny tied the knot. Was it too late to abort everything and start over? You considered restarting the entire avenue of how things came to be, you couldn’t deny that you’ve thought about it, yet the idea of abandoning the two men you had fallen for, regardless that it was forced and the nature of your love was more than likely due to Stolkholm Syndrome, was all unbearable. How could you leave them? Not only did you return their affection, but there was no way the boys would ever let you leave or go in peace. Surely, they would have haunted you and taken drastic measures to bring you back, you’ve already seen a hint of their ugliness with all the training and punishments they pushed on you. Aside from their obsessive nature, you have found yourself unable to imagine a world without them; you needed and depended on them so much for the last six months, how were you able to function without their generous consideration and devotion, especially now that you’ve not only gotten used to it, but embraced it. And then there was the baby…your baby, their baby…no doubt the thing was no bigger than the size of a pea, but the thought of you erasing it from your memory, knowing full well that you would have created something beautiful became ultra devastating. You couldn’t do it, you won’t.

The only resolution you could accept was that your mother would find out about you and the twins, and that a huge debacle would unravel between you three and the parents, but it was a love worth fighting for. Your rational sense, well, if you can call it rational among everything that’s happened, told you of the legalities in this situation. It wasn’t illegal to have a consensual love affair between three people, minus the fact that no one would ever know that the relationship did not start out that way, but that didn’t matter to you anymore. You became theirs, and they were yours, it didn’t matter if it was all forced through struggles, pain, and a training process; you had already come so far and done so much, there was no looking back. You weren’t related to them, so really, was there anything genuinely wrong with what was going down? Could your mother be at all mad? Disagreeable, perhaps. You’re quite certain that she would have never thought that her daughter would be one to grow and indulge in such a sinful relationship that involved two men, yet it happened. Maybe…just maybe, this would all bend out through argument and tears. Or, it could end in a different way, one that had not crossed your mind…until Heeseung came into the room.

“Aww, are you crying? What for? I told you everything is going to be fine, come here.” He walks into the room, gently closing the door behind as he smiles gracefully upon seeing the tear stains on your cheeks. He pats on his thigh as most dog owners would do, not that he treated you as one, he just knew that you liked it when he was gentle and soft. Getting up, you walk over and hug him tightly, and he returns the embrace. HIs nose duffles into your thatch of hair and inhales the scent, remarking how lovely you smelled.

“God I love your scent…I dont think there’s anything in this world that looks or smells as good as you.”

“W-where’s Heejeong.”

Heeseungs eyes slowly open as his nose and mouth remain buried into your scalp. A pause of silence fills the air before he finally answers.

“Heejeong is handling the matter of our parents.”

You look up, breaking the contact of his inhaling act as you look at him somewhat confused. “He’s going to see our parents?” You softly inquired, before continuing on as you watched him stare blankly at you. “Why didn't he take us? What is he going to say?”

Sighing out, Heeseung grips your waist tightly, his fingers pinching your skin as he answers. “There won’t be much talking, that’s why you're here and' I’m keeping an eye on you.”

Your eyes widened as you watched the shine of his eye disappear, becoming soulless and empty, matte as black velvet. “N….no…..no…..don’t….Heeseung no!”

“Shhh…”

Attempting to calm you down, Heeseung restrains your movements as you burst out into sobs and made every effort to break free from his grasp to call Heejeong, how could they do this behind your back and eradicate the situation by doing the unthinkable towards Danny and your mother?

“No! Not my mother! Heeseung please! Please call him! Please! She wont do anything to us! I promise! Please don’t do anything to her!”

Your cries fell on deaf ears as Heeseung pins your arms securely to your sides, and brings you down on the floor where he wrapped his lengthy limbs to further secure you. “Shhh its okay baby…I promise everything is going to be okay. We’re going to be free from everyone and we’ll be together forever. The three of us.”

Screaming, crying, and kicking, you nearly fainted upon feeling the extreme fatigue hit you as you were being forced to remain steady. Doing your best, you fought as hard as you could to break free from his grasp and prevent Heejeong from carrying out a deed that you did not approve of, yet with Heeseung burying his nose back into your head, he continues to inhale your scent, smiling maliciously as he pets your cheek and flawlessly keeps you steady in a trapped embrace, wiping away the fresh tears that spilled on your face. “Shhh, there….that’s a good girl. Be still and quiet, take a nap and I’ll wake you when Heejeong gets back.”

……………………

Perhaps it was the way his tight hold around your arms and waist suffocated you, or maybe it was the exhaustion taking its effect, whatever it was, it bowed to Heeseung’s command and you undoubtedly felt yourself drifting off into a soundless doze while he hums a fruitful tune, as if he lullabied you to sleep. Within minutes, you were done, but not without the warm streams that coated your cheeks, and the image of your mother’s face being the last thing you think of before it became pitch black under closed eyes.

……………………….

‘And so the young maiden ventures into a world that reeked of death,

Unknowingly, she strays into a marriage with a bachelor intending to take her last breath.

Though she may not have strayed in blindly, not knowing of what lies behind Bluebeard's closet,

The pitiful, curious maiden will unveil the truth behind the rumors of her bethrothe’s torment.’

……………………….

Strategically parking the car aways, Heejeong calmly makes his way up the driveway of his father’s estate. Greeted by the familiar faces of his father’s guards and surveillance team, he flawlessly enters without being detected, after all, who would ever have thought that the young man, donning all black, would have any murderous intentions to carry out, especially against his own parents. Never minding the aftermath, he came more than prepared to carry out the deed and to pay off the guardsmen with stock bonds of his father’s corporation. Easily, it was an offer that no man or woman would refuse, especially if it meant they could retire at a prime age to any destination they wanted. The buyout is so generous, it even guaranteed a passport with one way tickets to a place of their choice, all they needed to do was to erase the footage, and speak of his presence and arrival to no one.

Entering, he is greeted by the still silence that haunts the massive foyer. WIth a light on at a distance, Heejeong walks delicately through the narrow corridors that lead to the main room. The presence of his parents was lacking, yet he saw their vehicles and knew they had to be home. With his arms crossed, he takes a lingering stroll through the massive room, admiring the moon as it lays nudely in the center of the dark blue sky. The light illuminates his silver strands, and tones his olive complexion into a more pale color while the black cap shadows the darkness that lies beneath those matte black eyes. With cargo pants strapped with tactical knives, a kbar at his hip, and a small bundle of five-fifty cord, the image behind those items is hard to swallow for anyone who would be witness to what he intended to do, and yet…

“Are you here for your father?”

Turning around calmly, he stays composed and steady with an emotionless tone in his features. His arms remained crossed, with the sleeves of his black long sleeve rolled up, revealing the strength behind those veins that graced his forearms.

“I’m actually here for you…and him.”

He doesn’t make any sudden movements, and his eyes remained hidden under the bill of his hat, yet your mother spoke without any timidness in her voice. It was almost as if…

“I figured…I guess you’re here to talk to us?...Or maybe you’re here for something else…”

She knew.

“By the sound of your voice, I’m guessing he already told you about his little visit last week?” Heejeong smirks in a condescending manner. Unsheathing the kbar from its leather cover, he flashes the lengthy blade as he taps the flat, shined edge of the knife against his chin. “Well now, since you already know about the baby, and by the sound of your voice it seems like you already know why I’m here.” Taking note of the woman’s lack of expression upon seeing the kbar made it easy to dictate that she knew of his reason for visit, yet the moment he mentioned the pregnancy, he was slightly shocked to find her eyes reacting, though he didn’t show any inclination of his confusion, at least not yet.

“Y/n is….pregnant?”

“You mean he didn’t tell you? Hmph…fucking aye.”

Your mother shakes her head, looking down at the floor beneath her swarovski shoes. Her brows furrowed as tears began to welp up in the ducts of her eyes.

“You don’t really need to cry, for you, I’ll make it quick.” Heejeong scoffs as he adjusts his grip, equipping the kbar for its intended use.

“I’m not crying because I’m afraid of what you will do…Heejeong…”

He had to be quite honest with himself, he was somewhat stunned at hearing her words, yet, the moment she appeared in the room, her reaction was anything but normal. She had already seemed to be aware of why he was here, and she didn’t seem to be so concerned about seeing the young man before her, dressed all in black while holding a large knife, seemingly flaring off a subtle threat, yet her tears weren’t because of that?

“So enlighten me, why are you crying? Is it because you’re going to miss your daughter? Don’t worry, she’s with me and Heeseung, and we will take good care of her.”

Your mother lifts her head and gives a chuckle that further confuses the man, it was a scoffing sense of laughter that only lasted for a split second before the look of fear and sadness drowned her face once more. “I know she has you both…I saw it in your…and Heeseung’s eyes the moment you both first met her….I saw the way you both looked at my daughter.”

Furrowing his brows, Heejeong blinked before adjusting the expression to a more ruthless countenance. “Wait…so you’re telling me you know?”

“Ha…Heejeong…a woman my age…I can tell when a man is smitten by love and obsession…let alone two.”

The air fell silent and Heejeong merely stared at her, squinting his eyes with a fierce look, demanding an explanation.

“I also knew…that my daughter probably didn’t have a choice when she moved in with you and your brother…am I correct on that?”

Shifting his gaze on the marble tile, he emits small nods before giving off another malicious smirk her way. “Does that bother you? I can assure you, it was all done with good intentions. I love that girl, and so does Heeseung. We both cherish her, protect her, and have both become the father of the baby she carries. We are family, and all she will ever need is us.” Slowly, he takes his steps forward, closing in on the woman, yet came to a breaching halt the moment she spoke up, with a different kind of smile on her face.

“I know…and I hope that you know how glad I am to hear it…especially when you say the word ‘protect’.”

Furrowing his brows once more, Heejeong’s combat boots scuffs the tile as he abruptly stops mid way. “What the fuck is your deal? You knew about us practically kidnapping her, restraining her and holding her damn near hostage, the only thing you didn’t know about was the pregnancy yet…you don't seem to be bothered by that. What? Are you merely being supportive to save your own life? Or are you just a freak with a kink…that can understand the type of love we have for y/n?”

Your mother sobs out, a burst of tears break free yet she laughs laconically, it almost appeared as if she went insane for a second. “Yes! Yes I understand that love you have for her and if the circumstances were different…maybe I wouldn’t have approved but the fact of the matter is…Heejeong…I need you and Heeseong to never leave my daughter. I need you both to keep her and take her far away from this place, as far as possible. I can’t tell you how delighted I was to hear when she ‘moved’ in with you both…yet I wasn’t as happy when I heard about what happened to Jeff…after hearing from her about all those terrible things he used to say…”

Heejeong was beyond all lost. Was she truly just like them? Or was there something that she wasn’t telling, that caused this encouragement to dispel from her? She wasn’t at all concerned about you being with the twins, it seemed like she was concerned about something else. Heejeong was smart enough to sense that, yet he was having a hard time in fully cracking the code. “So…what you’re saying is…you’re okay with me and Heeseung being with y/n, despite the fact that you pretty much guessed…correctly I might add…that we are beyond in love with her…but have also tortured others and brutally killed for that love?” Raising a brow, Heejeong flashes the blade as he takes a couple more steps forward. “Don’t lie to me and try to save yourself now, that’s not going to end well. Nobody…and I mean nobody…is going to take Y/n away from us. Not you, your family, or my father.”

Your mother breaks down once again, her knees meet the cold tile as she buries her face into her palms, kneeling before the man as she eludes a mixture of sobs and laughter. “Good…good…never….never break that promise….”

Looking up, she notes the extreme confusion on the man’s face. Before he could say anything, she beat him to the punch. “Heejeong…I have to show you something…”

………………..

‘Before emitting his travels, where he would be gone till morning,

Bluebeard gives the young maiden a single word of warning.

“Stay away and do not open this door.” he tells her forcefully,

Yet the maiden emits a false promise, her curiosity grows shamefully.

…………………

Leading him to the study room, one that was grand and expelled the unique language of luxury, your mother maneuvers a hack, debunking the security system as she inputs the secret code that she found out during her stay in the mansion.

“No one must know what I’m about to show you…” Looking back at Heejeong for reassurance, she receives it in a single nod as he huffs out a prolonged sigh, expressing a sense of irritation from whatever it was the woman was harboring in secret. “Just hurry up and show me already. If if you keep draggin this further I’m going to make it more painful than you will like…trust me. I have a dark side.”

“One that was developed after meeting my daughter, I’m assuming?” with a snappy response, your mother looked back at Heejeong with a raised brow. “Trust me…you need to know the truth.”

“The truth about what, woman?” Heejeong grows tired of your mother taking far too long in opening the door, after the security system accepts the code, Heejeong shoves your mother aside as he pushes the door wide open. “Okay, what is it?”

Your mother makes her way toward the massive line of wall closets, each door in fine mahogany wood under protected lacquer gel paint. The golden brass handles were slim, yet elegantly decorated with engravings of peacock feathers. “Here…” Opening one of the skinny doors, she leaves it wide open for Heejeong to closely inspect. From afar, he could see the plastering of polaroid photos that were pinned on the inside of the door, with delicate crystal jars and lids, neatly organized on the shelves. “So…you wanted to show me my father’s locker?”

Nodding her head, your mother encourages him to come closer. “Take a closer look…”

Giving a harsh side eye, Heejeong glares at the woman before fully making his way in front of the locker’s interior…and there…

“What….is this?....What the fuck is this?”

……………………..

‘With the young maiden’s curiosity at its peak,

She takes the golden key and inserts it without taking a second blink.

Upon opening the closet door, there she stood in gruesome horror as she looks,

The bodies of Bluebeard's missing wives, all hanging, bloodied and butchered on steel hooks.

Quickly, she closes the door, and removes the key from the lock,

Only to find that the blood red dye on the golden metal became her doomsday clock.

Permanently remaining, no matter how much she scrubbed and soaked,

Unfolding her lack of honesty, this was the trickery under Bluebeard's cloak.’

………………………

“This….is your father’s work.” Your mother solemnly tells him, cradling her own arms, she issues fresh tears of sympathy as Heejeong takes in the note of her words, and recognizes the photos of the various young women. “Aren’t these the girls from the news? The ones that have been missing?”

Shaking her head, your mother clarifies. “Not missing…not anymore. A lot of them had been found…in pieces and without a single breath in their body. The ones that the police haven’t found…trust me…they’re out there in ruin…your father is a monster.”

Trailing his sight down, one particular photo catches his eye. “What is my mother’s picture doing here?” Taking the polaroid, he shifts a demanding glare over to her as he pinches the photo of his mother, with him and Heeseung as children by her side. Your mother quietly sobs. “Heejeong…I am so…so sorry….for you and your brother.”

Heejeong’s heart skips a beat. He crumbles the photo in hand, though he instantly regrets it as the lone surviving memory of his mother crinkles in his palm. He didn’t need, nor did he want for her to clarify. He wouldn’t have been able to swallow it down had he heard it. He already knew what this had meant, all those times when he and Heeseung constantly questioned their father or their mother’s whereabouts, only to be told that she left due to the constant arguing and bickering. For years, he and his brother had thought their father drove their mother away, with his constant philandering habits with the younger women, and his abusive authority, it had only made sense that she would leave…yet the one thing he could never make sense out of, was why she had left without saying anything to him or his brother? Why did she never come back to see them?

“She never left…at least…not by her choice….”

Your mother’s words shatters Heejeong’s state of mind, as the anger drives up from his chest and into his brain. Gulping a hard swallow, he couldn’t even find it within himself to grow teary eyed, the rage took over and prevented him from feeling anything else. Lifting his sights, he inadvertently takes in a close sight of what was contained within those crystal jars. The delicate grooves of the container's decoration obscured the details, yet it wasn’t hard for him to see that within those fine jars, were ‘tokens’ of his father’s victims. Fingers, hands, eyeballs, hair, and even internal organs. Everything was sickening, even for someone like him. Sure, he and Heeseung were murderers, technically, yet they only did what they deemed necessary in order for them to keep you. No one was going to separate you three, and they were willing to do anything to keep it that way. But never in a million years would they resort to murder out of pure pleasure, unless it was for your safety and comfort, despite you not seeing it that way.

As heartless it may have sounded, Heejeong cared less about the murdered women, so long as you were not a part of that list. He was not at all thrilled about finding out his own mother was a part of that statistic, yet she was no more than a distant memory, you were the only thing he and his brother cared about now, however, it went without saying that his father’s actions against his beloved mother deserved only one punishment that he deemed worthy, death.

“So how long have you known this about my father?” Heejeong coldly states as he stares at the jars before him, even taking a moment to delicately remove one of the lids, only to gently shut it back up once the pungent scent of formaldehyde kicked in.

“...It was before the wedding…”

Heejeong’s eyes grew wide as he tilted his head. “You knew for that long and didn’t say anything?” Clenching his teeth, he grew furious as the concept of your mother keeping the truth of his mother a secret for so long enraged him more, yet what made him even more angry was the fact that she knew, and yet never said anything, knowing full well that you could have been a potential victim, considering you were a young woman, pretty, and too gentle nature for your own good, much like all the victims that were targeted.

“Did you ever consider that y/n would be at risk? Look at these women! Y/n is ten times the woman than any of these girls…and you not only kept silent, but married him? I should fucking kill you right now.” Shooting his hand forward, he grips your mother’s neck as he shoves her against the wall. “I’ll fucking slit your throat, cut you to pieces and place you in jars for him to come home to.”

“I….it was for y/n’s safety that I married your father.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, yet still enraged, Heejeong’s grip tightens as he chokes your mother out, before releasing and allowing her to catch her breath. “Fucking explain and get to the damn point.”

“Y…your father…” coughing, your mother chokes up as she quietly sobs in between her words. “Your father admitted….shortly after meeting him….when I met him at the event….I wasn’t alone. I was with my nieces…y/n’s cousins….he was…he was going after them. So he came and greeted us….he was going to eventually get their information and over time….they would have ended up just like these girls….but….but….” her eyes welded up as she sobbed hysterically. “He saw y/n’s photo on my phone screensaver….he saw her and immediately dropped everything….once he found out that she was my daughter….he pretended to love me….he asked me to marry him…and I accepted…but then….one night…..” your mother’s sobs calmed down, as she kneels back down on to the floor, barely able to function as she recollects the discovery of Danny’s unusually gruesome habit.

“One night…he came home…bloodied and just….I could see it wasn't him bleeding…he was covered in some else's blood…he didn’t know I was awake….so when I saw him….he just laughed…..and he told me…..he….he told me…..”

……………….

“Well…since we’re having a moment of honesty, I think it’s appropriate for you to know that I am only marrying you to get closer to y/n….she is so lovely. Oh but don’t worry, she won’t be added to the jars like the rest of them…no…she’s far too beautiful for that. I am going to marry her. Now, if you want to live, I have no intention of wasting my time or my shiny tools on you, but I will…if I have to….if you want to live…and if you want your daughter to keep living, then I suggest you stay silent. After some time, we’ll get a quickie divorce, you go away and I will marry y/n. During the meantime, you will convince her to agree to the marriage, just….tell her how good in bed I am, that should help out. Right?”

……………….

Danny’s laughter following his tasteless joke was all your mother could remember. She explained to Heejeong, that she had been secretly trying to find a way to escape, along with Y/n, away from Danny. Yet there was no plan that was sound enough for her to carry out….until.

“When you both met y/n….and I saw the look of obsession that overtook you both during dinner that night…I knew…I knew that was y/n’s way out of this….you two are what was going to protect her….while I find a way out. I-I….I could never let him have y/n…I feigned loyalty to him all for the sake of keeping him from doing anything behind my back. So yes…I stayed silent and acted the part….but by doing so, I bought you both time to take her…bring her to your home….love her…impregnate her…and now…I am buying you time to take her away and do what you need to do with Danny.”

Shutting his eyelids halfway, Heejeong gives a seldom glare as your mother grovels at his feet. “Please…please take her away. I don’t care if you take her away from me, just please….keep her safe…keep her away from Danny…do what you have to do….Heejeong…don’t let that man near her!”

“Where is my father?” Heejeong calmly states as it dawned on him that Danny had been absent the entire night.

“He went on a trip over night….he comes back tomorrow morning. He….I think he went to find a clinic….at first I didn’t know what it was for but….when you said earlier that y/n was pregnant….I think he is finding a way to get her institutionalized….so he can keep her away from you two.”

Turning his head once more, he stares at the crystal jars before kneeling down on one knee. Sheathing his kbar, an eerie smirk develops, one that he displayed before he did away with Jeff.

“Well, I suggest that you pack your bags and leave town…leave the country even.”

Standing back up, with no sense of sympathy in his expression or tone, Heejeong takes his phone out, and hands it to your mother. Looking at the screen, she shifts a wide eye stare back to Heejeong after noticing that his banking app was open.

“Put your account information in there, and type in a number. I don’t care what or how high, type in any number you want with as many zeroes you can fit in. Once it transfers to your account, get your stuff and leave.”

Your mother graciously holds the phone in both palms, yet refrains from typing anything in. “If…if I leave…wiill…will I ever get to see y/n again?”

Crossing his arms, Heejeong’s lids grow heavier. “Why would you? She has me and Heeseung, she doesn’t need you. We are all she’ll ever have and need, mother or not, if I were you….I’d stay away. I’m not going to show you the same clemency as tonight…you come near her, I’ll finish what I came to do.”

Your mother flared a saddened smile, before handing the phone back. “I don’t need your money. Danny left his safe open, he never worried about me taking anything and leaving because he knew that with y/n here, I was forced to be trapped and play along. But now that you know the truth…I don’t need to play anymore….will I?

…………………………

“Fearing for her life, the young maiden sends one of the servants away with a horse and message in hand.

“Fetch my brothers! Tell them what is bound to happen to me, for they love me more than any man can!”

Desperate, the young maiden waits, not knowing if she will remain living come morning.

Bluebeard makes his way back home, where the young maiden awaits, each hour nearing his foreboding. “

Authors notes: the motha-f*cking plot twist!!!

Taglist: @hoyeonheeseung , @yohanabanana , @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry@honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07@raishaii @yangjungwon33 @lhspeachie ; @differentchildwombat ; @prettykia ; @kimsseonu ; @stvrryhee ; @en-thralled ; @hoonzdzbl ; @yuppppp ; @jinniespuppy ; @browsehnnie @prettykia @lprww @they2luv1naia @ellixqz @mimimovv @stvrryhee @moonmoongi @seungjiseyo @csmicvrse @yohanabanana , @heeshees@yumii0828 , @lprww, @mariji , @silcry @cutiejseong ; @lol6sposts @heeseung-min @heesquared ; @jaeneohee

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forthechubbies · 1 year

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Barefaced.Big Boys Au ( Mingi Special for Yunho's birthday) 🔞

Warning! Pervert! Mingi.

Whenever big papa Yuyu is out n' about, Minnie is strictly prohibited for being anywhere near you when he's not present.

Initially, Yunho though about keeping a tight leash on him and tie him to one of steel pipes in the basement but that's inhumane.

However, to be fair, Minnie acts more of a horn dog then an actual person when he's amorous. And when is that? All the time..just about!

Yet as of right now, Minnie was content being the only person home at the time- "Achoo! Ugh..Shit" minus the sick part.

Slam!

"Minnieeee." The abruptness of your sudden arrival quickly made Minnie break into a sweat fit and you throwing yourself into his space on the couch. Isn't helping. "Yuyu told me you were sick so I rushed home immediately, My poor baby." You cooed at him, stroking his inky ebony locks...just pause-

His face is nude. He has acne..."I've never seen you make up-free." You adjust yourself to settle on his lap. "Wow, Your so pretty."

Minnie gulped, tilting his face up to hide his flush cheeks. "Your prettier." He sheepishly chuckled, ghosting his large hand over your hip but not touching you.

You gasped. "You spoke to me! I mean you usually do but not to me at least not often!" You squeaked, bouncing in place.

"Nonono!" Minnie lifts you up into his arms, hovering you over the forming tent below. "My legs started hurting..Um-" Oops. Touching.

"Oh!" Why don't you remember him having super strength? You immediately attempted to get up. "I'll just get up-ah!"

"Sit." Mingi squeezed your curves, You squeaked out of shock this time. "Sorry...You're okay, here." There's not many chances he gets to hold you like this...smell you like this...touch-"Oh god." He let out a small sinful deep groan as you watch his eyes darken tracing your legs. "Fuck, Yu is gonna be pissed....I'll just be gentle..very very gentle-" He was mumbling like a maniac.

"Minnie?" You're cute voice chimes in at the wrong time. Mingi looked down into your big innocent eyes and purred against your earlobe. " I always wanted to do this." He announced before shoving his face into your peeking cleavage. "Mmmm."

You screamed faintly in result before being slammed on the fluff couch cushions. "Mingi! What's gotten into mmmm!"

.......

The look on your face when his tongue dominate yours is photo -worthy yet his favorite camera was far out of reach...In the bedroom- It took Mingi seconds to load you up over his shoulder; you clawed at his shirt fearing the height difference.

"Mingi! What are you doing?!" Your cute confused pleads only added fuel to Mingi semi-twisted kink. You're fear only hyped when you realize he was heading for the stairs...but you were afraid for the wrong reason.

Your nails dug into his t-shirt. "Don't drop me! Don't drop me! Minnie, this isn't funny anymore! Put me down!" You began to act out (Kicking your chubby legs) surprising you're frustrated hubby almost causing to drop you.

"Yah!" Slap! "I could havbe drop you!" Slap! Mingi chuckled at your reaction to him manhandling your body.

"I'm home!....I was thinking about going out for din-NER!" Yunho loosed his tie at the mother of all messes, the once spotless living room turned into the end result of a mini hurricane and what was his first thought? We were robbed!

But a pair of familiar chubby leg hanging oddly in the air drew Yunho closer... and his discovery...well-

Mingi's large body was settled comfortably inbetween your chubby thighs as he kept you pinned with one hand while the other caressed your ripped stockings.

"Jeong Mingi!" His voice roar woke the sleeping neighborhood.

Mingi hunched his shoulders. "Shit." He groaned, looking up at his pissed lover. "Welcome home, Yuyu." Mingi chuckled as the beads of sweat start forming. "It's not..what it-"

Yunho opened his mouth but froze at your teary eyed, dizzy love drunk expression underneath Minnie. "MINGI!"

#ateez smut #ateez x chubby reader #chubby reader #yungi x chubby reader #yungi smut #yunho x chubby reader #mingi x chubby reader #mingi x reader

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briyourmotherdown · 1 year

Text

cool water ★ part I

James Hetfield x fem!reader

★ everyone is running from something ★

Words: 6.7k

Warnings: i know nothing about arizona and it shows. VERY incorrect timeline. mentions of rehab and alcoholism. james is a moody prick. 18+ in the future but part I is PG minus some swearing.

A/N: so i'm asking you all, please, PLEASE be kind to me because this is the first fic i've written in well over a year and the first metallica one I've ever posted. this is so unbelievably self indulgent it's insane. title named after a marty robbins song because that's where this whole idea stemmed from. i tried not to use y/n because i know some people hate that jhskjfhkjhfthftdhftkj. also i really really hope the fact that rehab is in here isn't a trigger or upsetting to anyone!!! it just makes sense for the plot. it's also very inspired by the some kind of monster documentary. this will probably be a shorter fit made up of a few parts but it may take a while since i'm literally about to graduate uni and i'm drawing in assignments. anyways i hope you enjoy <3

parts: (1), (2)

★

A few states over, a little over a thousand miles and a few days long trek away, lies a life– packed crudely into a beat up Subaru with too many miles on the metre to go about adding another thousand. The air conditioning unit cracked out one state back, leaving only the rolled down windows to offer any sort of reprieve against the Western American summer heat. The unknown lies in the interstate ahead, yellow lines and road signs guiding you closer to your next destination. Only the front windows are open, the rear windows obstructed by precariously stacked belongings in unsealed cardboard boxes and garbage bags balanced against the glass. To roll them down would mean losing a good chunk of your clothing.

A map is sprawled out open on the passenger seat, red lines and circles marking the last stretch of your journey into Yuma County, Arizona. Golden light pours over countless acres of sprawling farmland ahead of you, the setting sun glaring into your eyes beneath your sin visor as you drive with one hand on the wheel and the other propping your head up against the open window. Your yellow Subaru is the only vehicle for miles, alone on the barren road as the sky fades into an inky blue. It’s eerie, being this alone. Eerie as you turn down yet another country lane, rolling the windows up. Eerie as you make sure the doors are locked and the gas tank full. Eerie for a girl who’d only left the city twenty-four hours prior, where such silence and solitude was such a rarity that you never stopped to consider what it felt like to actually be completely alone.

The night is still when you reach a stop sign, the hiss of crickets and cicadas audible even from inside the car. There’s no breeze that rustles the trees, nor a cloud to taint the clarity of the starry night sky. You feel as though you should be quiet and hold your breath, goosebumps raising on your skin. They only begin to subside when your headlights illuminate a sign reading Palo Verde Ranch.

Tires kick up dust as you roll down the tree-lined passage, inching closer and closer to where you will spend the next summer, checking the map one more time and breathing a sigh of relief when the trees part way to an opening. The ranch and lodgings look the same as the pictures in the brochure you were given, apart from being shrouded in a heavy darkness from the night. The porch lights are on, along with a few lamp posts circled by moths and mosquitoes. Pulling into an empty space next to a pick-up, you kill the engine and rest your head back against the headrest. The roar of the crickets seem even louder as you sit silently in the driver’s seat.

With a few final taps on your steering wheel with your fingers, you heave yourself from sitting position and stretch your aching legs, lifting your arms above your head before grabbing your suitcase from the backseat and forgoing the rest until tomorrow. It’s far too dark to go about it now. Boots crunch on gravelly dirt as you make your way to the lodging house, reading the brochure once more to check where the key is kept. It lays underneath a small terracotta pot, placed upside down and completely indiscrete. It makes you smile to yourself when you lift it up to examine it against the porch light– a small, metal cactus keychain hanging from it. You smack a mosquito from your arm as you unlock the door.

With a creak, the door opens up into the lodging house, though to you it seems more like a bungalow that had been converted into some sort of bed and breakfast. There’s a small kitchen to your left, under-cabinet lights casting an amber glow over the linoleum countertop and laminate floors. You take note of the humming refrigerator before turning to your right to examine a quaint sitting area, equipped with a floral printed sofa straight from the 1970s and a chestnut bookshelf housing a sparse assortment of books and magazines. It reminds you slightly of a waiting room– pretending to be lived in as to put you at ease.

Straight ahead lies the hallway, two doors on the left-hand side and three on the right, one of which has been left ajar. Upon further inspection, with slow, easy steps, you come to realise that it’s the bathroom, nose scrunching up slightly at the prospect of having to share one bathroom with multiple other people. On every door is a hand painted number, accented by flowers painted on in pastel colours. Very Bohemian, you note, eyeing the beaded curtain that hangs in the windowsill of the window at the end of the hall. Dim light spills from underneath doors three and four, but the other two remain dark.

Your room number is two.

Opening the door, you flick the light switch on before closing it behind you, a small puff of air escaping from between your lips as you take in the room. It’s cozy– genuinely, unlike the sitting room from before. It nearly reminds you of the room you’d grown up in, or, at least spent the earliest years of your childhood in. A golden oak bed sits against the wall in one corner of the room next to the window, fitted in cream and pale green floral patterned sheets. There’s a dresser-vanity and a wardrobe of the same golden oak, and a small nightstand next to the bed. On it beneath the small tiffany lamp lies an unopened note and a small plush teddy bear.

Tears fog your eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed and drop your suitcase at your feet. It feels so familiar– like a distant memory of a time in your life where things weren’t so turned upside down. A time when you weren’t running from something. Clutching the teddy bear against your chest, you open the note– a sweet, handwritten one from the owner of the land, welcoming you to your home for the summer. It tells you of breakfast in the main house at 10am, that there are fresh towels in the wardrobe, and that the vanity drawers tend to be a bit fiddly.

With a watery sigh, you blink up at the ceiling to clear your cloudy vision, flopping backwards onto the bed.

★

James knew that he needed a distraction.

He knew better than to be around all the same people and places from how he was before. Breathing the same California air he knew and once loved now feels too thick in his lungs, like some sort of poisonous gas.

He knew better than to be around reminders.

Due to his therapist’s orders, James was to go somewhere different for a little while. In his words, to “relax, be at one with nature”. He had spread a pile of pamphlets across his desk, closing his eyes and laying his pointer finger down on the first one it came in contact with. Arizona didn’t seem to appeal to James’ bandmates as much as it did to his therapist. They had a hard enough time communicating as is, too many alcohol-fueled yelling matches only worsened by the unmade upcoming album that loomed over their shoulders. James wasn’t sure how he could make the album to begin with, not while he was walking this tightrope. If he was constantly teetering on the edge, how could he be a productive member of the band?

Part of him didn’t want to go. Running away from it all felt cowardly, as though he’s weak for not being able to handle what once was so normal. A few drinks at the bar with friends turned into something else, something monumental. Gigs, rehearsals, afterparties, bar to bar to bar to bar. People who once gave him comfort now only serve as reminders of how he has ended up.

His PA booked his flight and had his truck sent to meet him at the airport. His intentions were clear– he would spend a few months working on the ranch away from anything that might tempt him, and then he would return home in autumn and attempt to clean up the mess he had left behind. The mess in question haunted him on his flight, tension aching behind his eyes as he rubbed at them. Divorce papers. A band that might hate him, left hanging and waiting for him to get his shit together so that they can release another album. Loose ends, after loose ends. Mouth set in a straight line, he realises he’s clenching his fists, blunt nails pressing into his palms.

Settling in was fairly easy. There was only one suitcase to unpack, clothes folded neatly into the dresser and notebook placed haphazardly on the nightstand– blank paged and unopened. For a few days it was only him in the lodging house, resting and rising in silence, eating a bowl of cereal by the kitchen window before heading out to work on the ranch with Wayne, the owner’s husband. Wayne is a shorter man, or at least much shorter than James, with salt and pepper hair he keeps hidden beneath a straw hat, and a laugh that often turns into a smoker’s cough if your joke is good enough. Wayne is friendly and a hard-worker, unafraid to put James to work too.

A few days later, a couple more lodgers began filtering in, two men who based on their accents, come from the south. They didn't spare James a second glance, and James gratefully did the same in return. There was no need for making friends.

When you arrived it shook up his routine. He now had to wait for his morning showers, entering only after you had spent far longer than he would’ve liked, only to be met with fogged up mirrors and the scent of vanilla and jasmine. He could hear music playing gently through the thin walls, some shit from the 70s that he wasn’t into, and he’d have to put up with the way you’d softly hum along. Truthfully, he avoided bumping into you at all costs. There was no concern of seeing you at breakfast or dinner– he skipped them in favour of some cheap crappy microwave meal– and he worked more on the ranch with Wayne while you settled into tending the vegetable garden.

Avoiding you seemed like a waste of time, however, because you didn’t notice him anyway. You always seemed too lost in your own head, focussed entirely on pulling weeds to notice him walking back and forth by you, carrying bags of feed. He didn’t offer a greeting, or even his name, but then again neither did you, and he was more than happy to keep his distance.

Your name only came up one day as James was sitting with Wayne. They’d both spent hours of the morning tending to the stables in the intense heat, James doing most of the heavy-lifting, and took refuge under the shade of a large tree. After collecting a few random chopped logs and sticks, James took out his pocketknife and began carving. Wayne spoke of plans to make his wife a wooden sculpture of a cactus for their front porch, with James silently shucking away at the wood to bring it to a sharp point.

In the distance you’re harvesting crops from the vegetable garden, wearing denim cutoffs and a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. From here James thinks he can spot the image of Garfield printed on the front. He stares for longer than he should, eyes trailing down the expanse of your bare legs, and admittedly, over your behind when you turn and lean down to grab a shovel.

Wayne breaks through the intensity of his gaze by saying a name, the glass shattering when James averts his eyes and returns to sharpening the wooden shiv with care. His finger slips against the grain and he winces, plucking the splinter from his thumb, “That girl. She’s here from Seattle.”

He remains silent, lip twitching with a hint of annoyance at the older man’s intrusion. Yet he lets your name settle in his mouth, silently testing the way it feels on his tongue. Aware that he was caught, he keeps his eyes trained intensely on his craft to avoid Wayne’s gaze.

“Pretty, ain’t she?” Wayne muses, stripping bark from an ash log and looking at you in the distance as you pick weeds from the cauliflower beds, “We don’t usually get people like her out here,” he turns to James, simpering, “Don’t usually get rockstars ‘neither.”

He turns away to continue stripping the log and James uses the moment to steal another look at you. The sun beats down on your back and you wipe sweat from your brow with your bare forearm, pushing a few loose hairs back that had fallen from your ponytail. There’s a half empty sack of compost on the ground by your feet that stains the tips of your gloved hands. You look tired, standing back from the garden bed to study your handiwork before tilting your head all the way back to soak up the sun, hands on your hips. When you turn and glance in James’ direction, squinting your eyes through the heat mirage, he averts his gaze, once again all too aware of Wayne and the way the man lifts his hand to wave dramatically at you.

He doesn’t look up to see if you wave back.

He sees you again that late afternoon, in the same way he always sees you— in small vignettes, in short scenes that make him think momentarily that you might just be a figment of his imagination. He sees you walking past him with a crate full of lettuce, too focused on not dropping any from the heaped pile to pay him any notice. He sees you when he walks by the wire fence, where you’re being walked through the steps of feeding the chickens in the coop. He sees you now, entering the same house he’s staying in, the same one he’s walking to, only a few paces behind.

But still, you seem to pay him no mind, as if he’s a ghost. He thinks he might be one if it weren’t for the acknowledgment of Wayne and his wife, Marie. The other workers don’t much like him, interpreting his silence as him being a stuck up rockstar. He wonders if it’s for any reason that you don’t notice him. Does he skulk around too quietly? Sure, he’s not been the most conversational since he’s been here, but he’s sure you would’ve at least noticed him.

It really bugs him.

For a man whose profession is to be seen and to be heard, he typically really likes fading into the shadows in his everyday life. There had been too many days of butting heads with Lars, too many arguments with his ex, too many paparazzi, too many expectations of him. He was only one man, and he knew he was too fucked up to be a role model for anyones kids. Before he entered rehab, he enjoyed the anonymity of a small town bar and the way no one knew who he was there. If they did, they didn’t care, clinking pints with him over the bar as if he was just another one of them. And even though Wayne and Marie do talk to him and put him to work, they still treat him like all the others staying on the farm for the season. And he does enjoy the fact that Wayne and Marie seem to pay him no mind, as well as the other workers.

But when he really thinks about it, he doesn’t like slipping into the shadows as much as he thought he did. Perhaps it’s his ego talking, but he at least likes being acknowledged.

It was as if you didn’t even know he was there.

It bugs him as he opens the door behind you after you’d let it close, watching you saunter down the hall and into the room only a door away from his own, not offering a glance as you shut it behind you. It bugs him as he makes his way into his own room, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing his hands over his tired face. It bugs him even more when he hears your door open and close again, squeaking on its hinges, followed by the click of the bathroom door and the rush of the shower turning on.

You claimed the shower before he could, as you always seem to do. Only today he had worked hard, back sore and legs aching with strain. Annoyance twitches at his lip but he tries to brush it off, taking deep breaths, groaning lowly as he lays back onto the bed. The day's work sits heavily in his bones and he shifts uncomfortably. He feels grimy, a layer of sweat having dried on his skin, sticking the Arizona desert sand to the hairs on his arms. He grimaces and tries to brush some off.

Minutes pass while he waits for you to finish in the bathroom, then more, and after thirty minutes he’s grown more and more impatient with you, rising from the bed and storming into the hallway. He doesn’t take any time to notice that the shower has stopped running, the blood rushing too loudly through his ears, and as he’s about to aggressively rap his knuckles against the door, it swings open. You jump back with a start when you see him, his fist raised and face twisted in irritation.

Momentarily, he’s stunned, face contorting into an expression that matches your own as his eyes trail over your form– wet hair against your shoulders and fresh skin dewey with what he assumes is lotion. You’re gripping your towel tightly in one hand, the other clutching a toiletry bag.

As he lowers his hand, he realises that this is the first time you’re noticing his existence. Wide eyes glimmer up at him shyly, lips parted from the shock of opening the door to a man standing angrily directly on the other side.

With that realisation comes another—actually, two realisations that took him possibly too long to register– the fact that you’re almost naked, and he’s blocking your way out of the bathroom. Embarrassment nips viciously at the back of his neck, tinting the tips of his ears pink as he takes a step back.

James has never been good with embarrassment. His ego always gets in the way or gets him into trouble. Sure, it has won him many arguments, much to the chagrin of his opponents, but it has also gained him the title of an egotistical asshole to many people. Whenever James becomes embarrassed, the outcome is always the same– confrontational, cruel, unnecessary words he doesn’t really intend to say bubble up in his throat before he has any chance to stop them.

“Knowing that there’s only one bathroom, you should be more aware of how fucking long you take.”

He snaps his mouth shut the second the words are out, lips pressing together in a firm line. You raise your eyebrows at him, taken aback at the gruff rudeness of his tone.

You want to say something. Some witty comeback or even something to match his hostility, but your tongue struggles to find any words. Words have never come easily to you in the first place, always choosing to be quiet unless you’re around people you know, but they especially don’t come when you’re half naked and an angry, 6’1” man is towering over you.

All you can muster is a small, “I’m sorry.” as you push past him and retreat to your room.

James is paralysed in his spot, the increasingly familiar scent of vanilla and jasmine wafting over him from the bathroom as you walk away, listening to the door slam behind you. He’s not sure how long he stays standing in place, fists clenched at his sides with frustration directed at both you and himself. With a defeated sigh, he locks himself into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Once he’s stepped in he wastes no time in pressing his forehead against the cool tile, cursing himself for not being able to hold his tongue.

James really wants to spend the evening the same way he’d been doing, skipping dinner and smoking a cigar out on the front steps, but Marie had taken notice and when she bumped into him earlier in the day, had all but forced him into promising to come to dinner tonight. It didn’t sound appealing at all. It felt like fucking summer camp, having to sit around a big table with everyone staying at the ranch and talk about your day and the work everyones’ been doing. He’d quite honestly rather starve.

It didn’t help that he assumed you would be there.

He had made up his mind that he disliked you. The annoyance of the way you’d practically ignored him for a week seems to only have increased with the duration of your shower. It was like you had no consideration for anyone else and didn’t look past the tip of your nose. He didn’t want to eat at the same table as you for that reason, is what he told himself. Not because he saw you in your towel and was so unnecessarily rude to you, no– James doesn’t do embarrassed.

He’s taken a nap directly after his shower, waking up even groggier and in an even worse mood, throwing on clean clothes and making his way down to the main house where Marie would be making dinner. The front door is already open when he gets there, and he takes an already exasperated breath before entering,

The smell that meets him is already mouthwatering, as much as he hates to admit it, and for a moment it makes him question why he’d skipped out on dinner for the past week. Wayne greets him as he walks in, already sitting around a large wooden table with a few men he recognises from around the ranch. Wayne has a cigar attached to his mouth, bobbing as he talks.

“James!” He exclaims, raising his hands in the air to greet him warmly, “Come on in, you should meet my guys.”

James nods curtly, having already met them in passing and discovered they didn’t much like him. But he puts up with it for Wayne’s sake, standing over the table but not sitting down, nodding in acknowledgment as he introduces everybody. They seem nice enough, greeting him with smiles, apart from two men at the end of the table who don’t so much as return James’ nod. They’re Dylan and Wes, the other two lodgers in the house. They offer him forced smiles, but James can see that the second Wayne turns his head to speak to someone else, they narrow their eyes in his direction. For a moment he wonders if you’d met them– if they treated you in the same way or if you hadn’t even noticed them in the same way you did him.

With that thought, Marie comes bounding in, wielding a wooden spoon in one hand, “James!” she grins, “I’m so pleased you came,”

She diverts her attention to Wayne, smacking him on the shoulder with the wooden spoon and scolding him in Spanish. The cigar between the man’s lips threatens to fall, but miraculously remains sturdy as he says something back, a sheepish expression on his face.

Marie rolls her eyes and turns back to James, “You, help me in the kitchen because my bum of a husband apparently has better things to do.”

Any other time James may have cringed at the idea– he’s not the best chef– but now, as he turns to glance at Dylan and Wes who stare at him with a look of contempt, he takes the out and follows Marie into the kitchen.

The moment he enters, his eyes land on you where you stand chopping vegetables at the butcher’s block island. You’re not looking at him yet, too focussed on dicing a tomato, and he takes a second to look at you. Your hair has dried, thrown back into a ponytail while you’re cooking, and you wear a white cotton sundress with thin straps that contrast against your skin. It’s different to how he’s seen you dressed, in denim cut-offs and cowboy boots, and for a moment he’s halted in the doorway to watch you.

“Could you shuck this corn?” Marie asks James, and your eyes finally snap up to look at him, trailing over his attire before you quickly go back to chopping.

He clears his throat with a small sure, taking his place across from you at the butcher’s block. You don’t dare to look up at him again, hoping that he doesn’t see the blush that tints the tops of your cheeks.

“You’re both very quiet, you know that?” Marie laughs, stirring a pot both metaphorically and literally, “Come on! Talk to each other.”

A short silence follows, painful and uncomfortable and it makes your skin crawl, clearing your throat and daring to glance at James. You break the silence by offering your name, extending some sort of peace offering.

He doesn’t seem to extend the olive branch in return. uttering a gruff, “James,” as he shucks another ear of corn.

You nod, You’d hoped that he’d say more to make you feel less nervous, hands shaking slightly as you hold the knife. You knew his name already– Marie had told you a few days ago when she caught you staring at him while he repaired the broken gate near the stables– shirtless. He had been sweating, lugging planks of wood from the shed on the other side of the lot, tattoos and bare skin glowing. Marie had snorted at your pink cheeks and made a smart comment about how he could fix your gate– whatever that meant. You’d been stealing glances at him since, averting your gaze quickly whenever he would begin to turn his head.

You soon became aware of his dislike for you, and other than the earlier shower incident, you can’t think of why. You tried to stay out of his way as much as possible, which wasn't hard considering he hadn’t showed up to dinners so far, and always kept to himself except for when he was working with Wayne.

It really bugs you.

You sigh when he doesn’t say anything else, glancing at Marie who’s back is to you as she leans over a large pot of stew, hoping that the heat of your gaze might burn just enough for her to turn around and save you. No dice.

“I–” You begin, “The gate looks really good.”

Instant regret rushes over you as a look of confusion paints his features, brows furrowed. You rush to explain, “The- the one by the stables, I saw you fixing it. It looks really good. I haven’t had to scale the fence to get through since.”

You embellish your compliment with a breathy laugh, audibly nervous, cursing yourself at your ability to make things so much worse. He didn’t return the laugh, and in fact, it seems that somehow your compliment had soured his expression even further.

“Thanks.” He deadpans, averting his gaze from yours and back to the corn.

You sigh, chopping another tomato.

Meanwhile James is internally kicking his own ass, unsure of why he can’t be fucking normal, intending to say one thing and actually saying another. He watches you from his place across the counter, the concerned furrow of your brow, pinched in the middle, to your nimble fingers diligently doing what Marie had instructed you to do. He feels a flash of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he misunderstood you. After all, you had noticed him– the gate was proof of that. Maybe he wasn’t as invisible to you as he thought he was. But that still leaves one question unanswered– if you noticed him, why did you intentionally ignore him? It’s silly and it’s childish, but it’s enough for him to continue on with his negative opinion of you.

Time goes by wordlessly between you both, Marie instead taking the time to explain everything she was doing in detail, sure to send both of you home at the end of the night with the recipe for Birria engraved in your brains. Time passes this way until the table has been set and the food is ready, Marie ushering you both out of the kitchen and to the dining table.

The only three empty seats are lumped together, one of which is at Wayne’s side. It would be rude to sit where you know his wife would be sitting, so you take the next one with a small frown, waiting for James to take the one next to you. You’re aware that he’s not happy with the arrangement, and for a moment you wonder if he would take Marie’s chair, but he doesn’t and instead fills the vacant spot on your other side. The table is tightly packed, and due to James’ frame, he has to keep his shoulders pinched together slightly to avoid rubbing them against yours. It’s nearly insulting, watching the amount of effort the man puts into not touching you, rolling your eyes to yourself as you eat the food Marie (and you and James, but mostly Marie) had prepared.

“So…,”

The mention of your name has your head snapping up, paused with your fork halfway raised to your mouth to look around at who had said your name. Your eyes fall on Dylan, who’s sat at the table directly across from you. You’d only met him once before and hadn’t really been able to form much of an opinion on him. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger around twenty-three, with shaggy brown hair he let fall over his blue eyes and a smile that had a tinge of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He had helped you reach a pair of garden shears from the top shelf of the shed, and all you’d talked about within that span of two minutes was your names and where you were from.

“Hm?” You hum in acknowledgment.

“You mentioned you’d stayed in Europe for a while, what was that like?”

You recognise the invitation of small talk, and you’d be thankful for it if it were just the two of you, but as everyone’s eyes settle on you for your response, you feel a little put on the spot.

“Uh, yeah, it was really cool,” you swallow, “Beautiful architecture.”

It’s a lame comment, and you're aware of it, but you're not sure of what else to say at the moment. Dylan nods slowly, eying you up and down in a way that makes you squirm nervously.

Wayne comes to your rescue, “James, have you been to Europe? I imagine y’have.”

The man beside you freezes, and he’s close enough that you can feel the tension, shifting in his chair. His bicep rubs against yours for the first time and you inhale quietly.

“Yeah,” he sniffs, “Been a few times.”

“You been there on tour, I imagine?”

This piques your interest, eyes flitting to look at James profile. His jaw is clenched as he nods, “That’s correct.”

“On tour?” You ask.

He turns to you, and the intensity of his eyes this close up almost makes you regret asking. He nods, “My band tours here and there.”

“Ha! Understatement,” Wes snorts from across the table, southern accent strong through his laugh, “Mr. Big Shot over here has toured a whole lot more than just ‘here n’ there.”

He holds his fingers up in air quotes to emphasise his words, and you’re left confused. Mr. Big Shot? You thought James looked slightly familiar, but couldn’t place from where, so you’d just brushed it off as nothing. You turn to look at him again, studying his face and racking your brain to think of where you might have seen him before. It would make sense for him to be in a famous band, but which one? And why would someone in said famous band be out here in the middle of nowhere?

“What band?” You ask, ignoring Wes.

James looks uncomfortable, “Uh, Metallica.”

It’s as if bells go off in your head, piecing it all together and finally realising where you've seen him before. It wasn’t just one place you’d seen his face, but many. He’d been everywhere, on MTV, on the front covers of magazines on the newsstands back home, on billboards– dare you say Wes wasn’t too far off by calling him a Big Shot.

“Oh,” is all that comes out despite the revelation– despite the fact that you’re now painfully aware of how famous he is. Your pre-existing nerves have only worsened with this newfound information, struggling to get a bite of your food down, wincing.

James, however, takes your lack of response and pained expression the wrong way and gets on the defensive, scoffing into his glass of water before slamming it down. The entire table goes quiet, and he doesn’t miss the way you flinch at his action, momentarily pausing to meet your gaze. Your eyes are wide as they lock with his, confusion written all over your face.

He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up, “If you’ll excuse me.”

You watch his back as he retreats through the front door, letting it slam behind him. You flinch again and turn to look at Marie, who’s sitting next to her husband with a distraught look on her face. Sighing, you stand up and place your napkin on the table.

“Dinner was absolutely wonderful, Marie, please excuse me.”

Marie flashes you a sympathetic glance as you walk to the door, and despite their chittering you don’t care to look at the expressions worn by Dylan and Wes. Instead, you make your way out of the house and down the front steps. The evening has finally matured into darkness, the pathway to the lodge lit only by lamp posts and strings of fairy lights that Marie had just put up earlier today. You’re not sure where to look for James, or even if you should be looking in the first place. If you truly are the cause of his bad mood, surely you’d be the last person able to talk some sense into him; but curiosity eats away at you, the need to fix whatever you’ve done gnawing at your stomach.

It doesn't take too long to find him, sitting on the front steps of the lodge, mostly shrouded in shadows except for the orange cast of the fairy lights.

“Hey,” you offer carefully, slowing your pace as you near him.

You debate whether or not to sit next to him on the stairs, thinking it might piss him off if you do, but awkwardly rocking on your heels feels even worse. You take a seat next to him with a light huff, making sure to keep your arms from brushing against his like at the dinner table. He’s smoking a cigar, the burning tobacco lighting up his face ever so slightly on each inhale. Though he doesn’t verbally acknowledge your greeting, he doesn't leave either. As if he’s waiting for you to say something worth his while.

“I’m sorry, you know,” you offer softly, “I’m not quite sure what I did to upset you, but whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

He remains quiet, the sounds of the crickets and cicadas deafening. You exhale a sigh of defeat, tilting your head up to glance at the vast array of stars in the clear sky, counting the brightest stars until you lose your place.

James isn’t quite sure what to say. The longer he’s left to sit with his thoughts, the more he doesn’t understand what you’ve done to bug him so much. There’s been an explanation for every misunderstanding so far, leaving no reasons for his disdain, yet for some reason he just feels immensely frustrated by you. It’s something he feels under his skin, fizzing in his blood uncomfortably. He’s starting to wonder if it’s even got anything to do with you to begin with, or if this entire trip out to the desert has backfired and he’s got too much time and space to think about his life. Stress eats away at him, bubbling up slowly.

“I’m sorry about hogging the shower,” you ramble, “I didn’t realise you were waiting for it and I just got kinda…kinda lost in thought, I’ll hurry up next time.”

Nothing. It’s radio silence on his end, the air so thick that you feel it clouding your lungs along with the smoke from his cigar. You can’t stop your mouth from running, ”And it’s really cool that you’re in Metallica, I um, I don’t really know much about you guys but-”

“You can stop,” he interrupts, the stress bubbling over, your face flaring with heat you’re glad he can’t see in the lighting. ”I don’t really care, honestly.”

He looks at you for the first time in the last five minutes, emotions flat and guarded, and for the first time since you’d met him, you feel your own anger rise up in your stomach instead of nerves– frustration, annoyance, fatigued with his attitude.

“Look,” you stand up, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’d appreciate it if you'd stop being a total dick.”

He puts out his cigar, standing up to tower over you, not letting you have the upperhand of being taller than him. He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him.

“All day, you’ve been awful to me, and we just met. I don’t get it, what’s your problem?”

He scoffs, “I have a whole fuckin’ list of problems, sweetheart, don’t feel special.”

You stare, dumbfounded, arms crossed over your chest, “Yeah? And what about it?” you challenge, eyes narrowed, “Why do you think I’m here, huh? We’ve all got our shit, we’ve all got things we’re running away from, what makes you think you can treat me like shit for no reason? Because if this is how it’s going to be all summer then I’m already real fucking tired of it.”

Cicadas are the only thing you receieve in return, the chirping filling the empty space between you and James. There’s nothing. There’s no apology to speak of, not even any retaliation. His face is void of emotion, hands dug into his pockets as he stands and stares.

His stare is intense and unmoving, but there’s something hidden behind it. It’s almost a sort of hollowness, as if this is something he’s been through a billion times before. It almost makes you falter, trying your hardest to search his eyes for any clues as to what he may be thinking. But his eyes are still those of a stranger’s, and you can’t place exactly what it is that he’s thinking. Shaking your head, you finally back down, taking a step back.

“I came here to apologise, and I did. I have nothing else to say,” you turn to the lodge and step towards the stairs, “But Marie didn’t deserve that shit you pulled tonight. I think she at least deserves an apology.”

The words hang between you in the night, heavy and oppressive. There’s a moment where your fingertips hesitate over the doorknob, casting one last look in James’ direction in hopes that he would say something. But he’s remained stoic, gaze set hard towards where you’re standing, hands shoved into his pockets. Shaking your head again, you step inside, leaving him in the dark.

Only when you’re gone does he rub his hands over his face and swear under his breath. With a sigh that holds the weight of the world, he takes begrudging steps back towards Marie and Wayne’s house.

★

A/N: god pls bear with how slow and badly written this felt. anyways i hope you enjoyed jsdhgkjshdkjhgsdjg

#james hetfield x reader #james hetfield #metallica #metallica x reader #reader #x reader #fic #metallica fanfiction #i was supposed to be writing an essay #i did this instead #anyways stream marty robbins gunfighter ballads and trail songs

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cocomintcat · 23 days

Text

Heaven's Princess (Part 2)

Welcome to hell

Part 1 || Masterlist || Part 3

Songs of the chapter: Karma (AJR) + Still Feel (Half•Alive)

You feel a soft silk like bedding and a familiar presence near you. Slowly opening your eyes, you’re laid on your side. In front of you is Saf, your tiny seraph? Guardian? Pet? You don’t really know what she is besides a floating eye with six wings that acts like a bird and a puppy combined. She does also makes cute noises that sound like a church organ*. Slowly sitting up, you take in your surroundings. A grand red room with slight apple decor. You are dressed in comfortable pajamas. You then take in your appearance. Your hands have claw like nails, your wings are tainted red underneath, you have a tail with an eye, and to add to that, your eyes have all changed to yellow with red irises. Then you realize your heavenly eye on your chest lost its wings. Saf then hovers over your head, making you reach for your halo, pulling it down only to realize it's around the newly protruding horns. Pulling the halo carefully over the horns you notice where the old eye would be is rather a cracked and bent opening. You put the halo back with the help of Saf. Everything’s changed. At least your ear wings haven’t seemed to change, but now you can’t put either away, your head wings, or your back ones. You’re going to have to relearn some motor skills with both of them being out at the same time.

Suddenly, Saf blinks like she remembers something before zooming off. You tilt your head watching her before situating yourself to sit at the edge of the bed. You don’t dare follow her. You start playing with your new tail. It was cutely heart-shaped at the end where your newest eye was.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps make their way down what you assume is the hall leading to the room you are in. Saf’s presence is accompanied by a familiar yet new presence. A man that looks similar to your brother Micheal, minus the height and red circles on his cheeks, appears in the doorway. He’s wearing a white under shirt with rolled up sleeves, a pink striped vest with a black bowtie, his pants are white and accompanied by black boots*. “Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling?” He makes his way over to you.

Looking up at the man in front of you, you give him a small smile. “Better than before, I’m guessing you caught me?”

“Yup! Your wounds healed by the time I made it to this room, and your little friend appeared too.”

“Ah, Saf… I don’t know how she was able to, but it makes sense for her.”

The man moves over to sit next to you, “Before I ask any questions, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Lucifer, you’ve probably heard tons of awful things about me, but I promise I'm not going to hurt you.”

This makes you tilt your head, “I mean mostly the winners fear you and the elders can be cranky about you. However, I've been told if I’m ever in trouble in hell to go to you first. Though it was believed to be very unlikely I’d ever even have to visit hell, much less be sent to it.”

His face becomes shocked, “Really there's still angels that- Nevermind.” He shakes his head, “Three things. How old are you? Why did you fall? Lastly, your name.”

You fidget with your hands nervously as he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Well I’m 149-” The hand on your shoulder tightens slightly before loosening and dropping off your shoulder. Both his hands are in fists on his lap. You can feel his anger simmering. “My name is Eliora, and as for how I fell… I didn’t fall, except for through a portal.”

His expression turns to shock again, “What do you mean by that?”

“I was never put on trial. I was betrayed. They betrayed Heaven, and I found out.” You look off to the side away from him. Your hands tightened onto each other. “I was going to tell the upper ranks what they were doing… She- Someone I thought was a friend tore my wings. I burned the remains. She couldn’t have them. Then I was sent to hell. I never sinned… I shouldn't be here.”

A gentle hand reassuringly lands on top of your own, and you look over at Lucifer.

“That explains why your soul is so pure and only tainted. Usually, sinners have corrupt souls on top of the taint of hell. But what were they betraying heaven with?”

“Exterminations.”

“What-”

“Sera had no permission for it. She gave permission to ‘punish’ me.”

“Damn it if she did that then… fuck.”

“I’m guessing she's the main communication between heaven and hell?”

“First is Adam, but he does more of the dirty work for her.”

“Adam?! He knows about the exterminations?!” Lucifer raises a brow at your shock.

“Yeah, was he not there or the one who punished you?”

“No?! I doubt Adam would ever harm me in such a way, but-”

“You can't be sure with everything happening.”

“It’s just I’ve been somewhat close with him for a while since he was always around Sera- Oh… I was closest with Emily, Sera’s youngest sister, and Adam was around Sera fairly often. He helped me discover my powers. Despite his behavior sometimes, I thought… I don’t know." Suddenly tears welled up in your eyes, and you were engulfed in a hug.

“I’m sorry.”

You wetly chuckle, hugging back, “It's not your fault. Sera has a ton of explaining to do.”

“She does, and she’ll get what's coming to her eventually.” Lucifer separates from the hug, keeping his hands on your shoulder. “Since she runs the exorcists and knows you're down here, we should give you a cover name, one that isn’t any nickname you had in Heaven. We don’t want her hunting you down.”

“That's true… Can you choose it? It’d be funny when it comes out that she couldn’t find me because of a name ‘The Devil’ himself gave me.” You giggle at the thought.

Lucifer lets out a little chuckle, “Sure, how 'bout (Y/n)? Hmm, little miss.”

Saf let’s out a happy noise spinning, “I think it's perfect. Saf approved, too!” This divolves you all into giggles as Saf keeps up her goofy cheers.

“Alrighty now let’s eat, and I can give you a bit of a run down of Hell.” Lucifer helps you up, leading you to a sweet and homey kitchen room with a small 4 seat table. “Sit and I’ll make some of my famous pancakes!” You giggle at his cheery attitude. ‘He really hasn’t changed. He’s exactly like how they described him.’ You felt safe and a lot more happy around Lucifer after your eventful ‘fall’. ‘Maybe some good things will come out of this.’

Soon enough, the pancakes were done. They were heavenly, pun intended. Lucifer told you about the rankings in Hell, him, and the sins along with their rings. He then explained his ring a bit more in depth, overlords, sinners, and deals. Deals were to be avoided no matter what. He told you only Carmilla Carmine would be the overlord he’d recommend going to as she’s very reasonable compared to the others. He informed you on some more things you were only vaguely aware of in hell. Though he admitted to not keeping up much the past 6 years. You didn’t ask why, feeling it was a sensitive subject.

You had stayed with Lucifer since you fell. You learned a lot about him and, in all honesty, a lot about what Sera had done. Once Lucifer learned the uppers knew nothing and it was all Sera, he had compiled all the evidence of such for the day that it would become useful. Though you knew as long as you were in hell, there wouldn't be a chance, but you couldn’t tell Lucifer how you’d get the uppers to listen. ‘I don't know why I’m so anxious to tell him… probably because he’s the brother I never met until falling into hell.’ In turn, you also learned what happened since he fell, and how Lilith just up and left. You also learned about his daughter, technically your niece. Staying with Lucifer reminded you a lot about staying with God. They really were father and son. From their depression to their flamboyant personalities. This made you quite sad and homesick, missing your father.

Lucifer also found out about your birthday. He had called his daughter explaining the whole situation a while back, and she had been wanting to meet you for some time. Lucifer made sure you were adjusted to hell a bit more before letting you meet. Only after 3 months of being in hell did you meet her. She was so sweet, this is also how you let your birthday slip after explaining you had fallen a bit after your birthday. She insisted on holding you a small celebration for your 150th. This did bond her and her father quite a bit, but things were still strained as they avoided topics about their personal lives. They mostly stuck to talking or bonding over you. You were just glad they seemed to be talking.

Soon, they held a small celebration at the manor for your 150th birthday. 2 of the sins and their partners also joined you. Asmodeus, or Ozzie, and his partner Fizzarolli, Fizz, were immediately in awe of you. Ozzie insisted you were one of the cutest kids he’s met since Charlie became an adult and welcoming you to the Hell family. Fizz was also fun. He made you laugh plenty and insisted on you performing with Bee in a karaoke duet. Then there was Queen Bee, or Bee, and Vortex. Bee was also insistent on doing a karaoke duet with you after hearing you were known for music and dance. She also was very affectionate to you, constantly wrapping an arm over your shoulder. Lucifer and Charlie had baked you a cake too. It was beautiful, a purple cake with white roses and butterflies. Each of them had given you gifts. Ozzie offered a fun trip down to visit his ring so you could hang with him and Fizz. He also gifted you a soft purple blanket, which Fizz wrapped you up like a burrito with at some point. Fizz gifted you a cute plush of a hell fox. It was pink and cute. He got the idea after asking Lucifer what you liked. Bee’s gift was a phone with all their contacts to keep in contact with them. Vortex’s gift was to escort you anytime you needed a bodyguard. Charlie then presented her gift, a cute fuzzy red fox hoodie. It was adorable. Lastly was Lucifer’s gifts, a ducky of yourself and a six winged gold fox statue*. You were so grateful to them all.

Soon enough, Charlie had convinced her dad to let you stay with her at her hotel. She had been wanting you to come help out since you were an angel you would know most about souls let into Heaven. You supported her dreams, as redemption should have been the option first before exterminations. So when she asked if you would help, you said yes. It was decided that after her upcoming TV appearance she’d pick you up. Lucifer was just happy you two were getting along and to see you doing better since your ‘fall’.

You kept an eye on Charlie's TV appearance through the news app on your phone. It definitely did not go well, but it never would have, not with how they were treating Charlie before even hearing her out. Definitely reminded you that you were in hell. Soon she called you to let you know they were on their way after picking up Angel Dust, their first guest, who apparently was either in trouble or causing trouble you couldn’t tell with the loud voices in the background. Soon enough, you see the limo pull up. Charlie runs out immediately, hugging you. She had already moved your stuff to the hotel the day before leaving you with just a bag of essentials to bring.

“It’s good to see you! Come, come! Luckily, we aren't too far from the hotel!” She guides you into the limo, taking your bag and putting it on the floor. Inside is a pink tall spider slumped in the middle. Charlie sits next to a gray color schemed girl who eyed you, ‘she’s a fallen exorcist, her halo must not be visible.’ You opted to sit on one of the side chairs. “Both of you, this is (Y/n).”

“So we were picking up an angel greaaaaat, it’s not like extermination isn't coming soon.”

“Angel, be nice! Plus she’s down here!”

“Why did we pick up a fallen angel?”

“Because Vaggie, she can help! She knows more about heaven than us, and it’s been too long since my dad has been, y’know.”

“Eh, nice to meet you, kid. Names Angel Dust.” Angel moves up next to you and puts an arm around you. “So what sin landed you in hell?”

“Angel, you can’t just ask things like that?!” This causes a bicker between him and Vaggie.

You just giggle at their antics, “Why I’m in hell isn’t all that important. I'm here now, so that’s all that matters.”

“How old are you? You’re like tiny as fuck.”

“15 physically in human years, and my height I am smaller than most angels at my age.”

Angel blinks, looking at you slightly surprised, “Your young as fuck-”

“Angel watch your language!” Vaggie exclaims.

You snort, “I’ve met Adam, trust me explicit language and curse words are nothing new.” This makes Vaggie give you a weird look, but before you could ask, the limo came to a stop.

You put all your stuff away before flopping forward on the bed. “This so nice don’t you think, Saf?” Saf chirped happily in reply as you moved to rest up on your elbows. “At least plenty of good has come out of this… This room reminds me of home...” You sit up fully with a sigh, looking up at the stars you can’t help but shed a few tears, “I miss them, I hope they’re doing ok…”

“We’re here, come on. I have to show you your room!!” Charlie grabbed your bag, dragging you along to show you your room. You were told to take as much time as you needed to make it more comfortable and settle in. She left, stating she’d be downstairs. Saf poofed in beside you, making happy noises at the nice room. It was purple and white. There were golden night sky stars hung in all sizes on the ceiling, along with flowy sheer drapes. It had a heavenly and princess vibe to it, ironically. There were also hidden LED lights, giving the room a beautiful glow.

After your cry session, you freshened up and went downstairs. Apparently, everyone had come in from outside. There were some new faces too. “Oh (Y/n) how’d you like your room!?”

“It's perfect. Thank you, Charlie.” You smile as Saf happily chirps beside you. Charlie immediately engulfed you in a hug.

“I’m so glad you like it!” she squealed. Suddenly, someone clears their throat, “Oh, right, I should introduce you to the new staff!” She then turned to 3 new faces. First, she gestures to a very tall, old-fashioned deer man. “This is Alastor. Alastor, this is (Y/n) the one who I mentioned will be helping with redemption exercises and such.”

The said man looks at you with a curious look, “Pleasure to meet you didn’t know we’d have a fallen angel helping out.”

“Ah, right then, those 2 are Husk and Nifty!” She gestured to a winged cat demon that was walking towards a newly implemented bar and a small cyclops demon. Both gave you a small wave.

“Good to see you again, kid!” Suddenly, you're picked up by Angel Dust. “Didn’t realize how small you were, damn.” He was holding you like a child.

“Probably because aside from Nifty she’s the smallest in this hotel. Not to mention, she is 15 physically, so she’s young too.” Vaggie says.

“She’s a fucking child angel?” Husk was pointing at you from behind the bar.

“Yup! So please keep the adult stuff away from her. Her innocence doesn’t need to be ruined.” You snort at what Charlie says.

“You heard worse from Adam right kid?” Angel whispers to you. Still carrying you. Saf appears chirping a yes for you. “Sup little thing, by the way… What is that?”

Everyone looks at you while you answer, “That's Saf my seraph friend, I don't really know what she is besides the type of angel she is but she's more like a pet or guardian if that makes sense.”

“Kinda, she’s cool. Makes weirdly cute noises.” Angel puts you down, but you fly up to be a bit taller. He pats your head.

“She makes sounds that are of a cathedral organ. It’s pretty cool when she uses it to follow my songs.”

“Alright I think it’s time for dinner! (Y/n) wanna help me?”

“Sure!” Alastor appears near you and Charlie.

“Need an extra set of hands, dear?” Charlie nods before leading you all to the kitchen, showing you the recipes she has planned for the night. During this cooking, Alastor ends up in a conversation telling you about the food he used to make with his mother. This leads to him telling you about some of the popular foods from his time alive in louisiana. In turn, you told him about a movie you were introduced to in Heaven from earth, this led to you explaining the disney princess and the frog story. Charlie seemed to be happy watching you oddly get along with the oh so terrifying radio demon. Soon enough, the food was done.

Everyone sat and ate, getting to know each other. Angel asked you occasional questions about heaven. You answered them the best you could without giving yourself away in the slightest.

*kinda like the honk in Sky children of the light!

*his ‘final battle’ outfit aka his usual minus his coat and hat.

*inspired by that six winged duck in charlie’s childhood

Btw background info: God has no clue what time it is anymore nor that Eliora is missing, between the family doing their jobs or looking for Elly no one told their father in fear of worsening his depressive episode (Not the right choice but this'll make for a worthy punishment of those who wronged our girl!)

Taglist: (comment if you want to be added :D)

@fluffy-koalala

#Spotify #hazbin hotel #mintysseraphreader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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prof-ramses · 1 month

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Here are some (mostly Mammon centric) thoughts I came up with when I probably should have been doing work for class:

Working off of some of my previous ideas, I really like the idea of Mammon and Bee previously having some sort acrobatic act together in the same vein as my idea Ozzie and Mam were once a comedy duo.

I like to interpret that a lot of Mam’s business ventures, while primarily rooted in greed, have a sense of sentimentality to them. Loo Loo Land for example is a blatant cash grab and pet project of Mam, but it’s also his (kinda weird & messed up) way of showing his respect for Lucifer (not to mention it was a place he and his niece made a lot of fun memories). Building off of this, his idea for making the Robo Fizz’s fully functional pleasure toys is him taking the advice from Ozzie that “sex sells” and running with it (Ozzie probably kicked himself when he realized this). I also like to think he has other business ventures that homage the other Sins, like a fast food chain that has a menu containing a lot of food Bee is/was fond of.

Also building off of the previous bullet, if Mammon ever finds out what really caused Loo Loo Land to burn down, he would personally March up to Pride and deal with I.M.P. Not to mention “taking care of” Blitzo would also be a way to indirectly get back at Fizz.

I can’t help but feel part of Octavia’s apprehension towards Mammon when he starts dating Stella stems from him being the creator of the Fizzarolli robots and maybe some level of coulrophobia given Mammon is basically the premier clown of Hell. I think it would be neat if he actually managed to help get over some of her fear as they start getting closer as father and stepdaughter, perhaps even through their shared distaste for the robotic clowns, even if it is for different reasons.

For the life of me, I cannot get the idea of the male Sins at one point or another growing facial hair. Like, just the mental image of Luci with a full beard and Mam with a Gomez Addams style mustache haunts me. Granted, I also feel like they probably look back on this period and laugh about given how it just doesn’t mesh with their aesthetics.

I know I’ve commented on what I think Mammon looks like under his hat, but the reoccurring joke of him never being bare headed gives me life. Him never being seen without his trademark jester’s cap is hysterical to me. Morning, noon, and night; rain, sleet, or snow, he’s always wearing it. The only exception being when he bathes… then he wears a shower cap.

Just this:

The Sins (minus Luci) are standing outside of the Hazbin Hotel, planning on giving their niece a surprise visit.

Leviathan: Oh it’s going to be so nice to see Charlotte again. (To himself) I don’t get why she always has to go see her father, it’s not like it takes THAT long to visit Envy. Asmodeus: (Chuckles) You said it Levi. After all this time, I bet her face is gonna light up the second she sees her favorite uncle. Satan: Mammon? Asmodeus: Wha-NO! ME! (The others look amongst themselves before erupting into a chorus of laughter) Belphagor: *Click-Click-Click* That Does Not Sound Right. Asmodeus: Oh, Ha-ha-ha… Fuck you guys, we’ll see who’s her favorite. (Charlie walks out to greet her guests and face IMMEDIATELY lights up) (She squees and proceeds to charge at Ozzie… only to run past him and tackle/hug Mammon) Charlie: Uncle Mammon! Mammon: (Hugs her back) Charlie! Little Dingo! It’s so good to see you! How’ve you been? (Mammon proceeds to flip Ozzie off behind Charlie’s back) (Ozzie seethes as the other Sins stifle another round of laughter)

Hope you enjoy these, I’m probably going to be pretty inactive for a while.

Thanks for more goodies!

That's a pretty neat idea, also, reminds me of my idea for Levi's role in the troupe is an escapist/stuntman, since his slimy serpent body makes him very adept at it.

Aww. This actually reminds me of my own idea for a fic of Mam consulting Via while brainstorming ideas for the rebuilt Loo Loo Land to give it some more actual identity. Since that would make the parallel with the original LLL being tied to Mammon's relationship with Charlie and the new one being tied to his relationship with Octavia. I generally like the idea of Via inspiring Mammon to express his authentic self a bit more.

I think he'd also go after Wally, since I have the headcanon that Wally just snuck in and used a spare cart for his own torches, since if he actually worked there, he would have to split it with the park.

YESSS! Via's reaction to learning Stella and Mammon were dating at all must've been something else. I'm honestly surprised I don't see more people exploring coulrophobia as a character trait for Via. I'm also a sucker for Octavia-Mammon bonding ideas, they're always so cute!

I actually have a dilemma about this, on one hand, Luci looking like he has an exact wig of his hair glued to his face after neglecting himself in favor of his duck making is a great visual, but I also find the thought of Luci being naturally baby-faced really funny.

I think Mam would sleep without his hat, but he would still only take it off after getting in and locking the door so any passing house staff don't see him without it. It's not even that he's insecure, he's just that committed to the bit/brand. Very few have lived after seeing his gently electrified locks, speaking of which, I like to think that, like his webs, his hair produces a soft static tingle to the touch.

Yes, just so much yes.

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merv606 · 18 days

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What about a Puritianverse...but it's with older virgin Daniel. He's never been in any sort of relationship, and has remained "pure" in the full sense of the word. Sure, he's not super unaware of what happens between an Alpha and an Omega, but he doesn't really know the details. He doesn't think any Alpha would be interested in him anymore, and is resigned to his fate. Maybe Terry here is the same age, or younger--either way, he knows Daniel is his the moment he sees him, and sets out to make him his, much to Daniel's dismay and confusion.

"But," Daniel begins completely confused, and still reeling from the fact that this handsome Alpha wants to wed him, "Mr. Silver...I'm not anywhere near the proper age of marriage anymore. I don't understand why you'd want me when you can have someone else, someone who is younger and--"

Terry sighs in exasperation. He adores how clueless Daniel is certainly, but it's not working in his favor presently. And there's some anger there, too. Anger at his soon-to-be mate thinking so lowly of himself. How dare he think that he would be unwanted? Undesirable?

*Pets this ask*

I picture how Ralph was in KK3 for this so - 27/28 in real life.

And of course that’s how old TIG was too (minus the three months lol)

But a part of me imagines as well, that Ralph with TIG from CK or even him in Black Friday.

All versions are 🔥 so I’ll leave it up to whoever reads it to decide which Terry they’re reading it as.

The omega is so soft, so supple.

The baby fat to his checks, the way they flush that delightful shade of pink, that match the pink of his lips, that frame an inviting mouth that always seems to be slightly open.

And his hips, Terry knows if he were to grab them his fingers would sink into the soft flesh, knows those cute little tits would form the perfect little moulds in Terry’s hands - knows he would have no trouble providing for the babe Terry desperately wants to put inside him.

His thoughts are plagued by it.

The boy was built for sin - for worship and ruin by Terry’s hand.

How much softer he will become when that happens, how much more round and full he will be with life growing inside him - life put there by Terry.

Terry grows hard each night as he lies in bed thinking of it - fucking the little omega full of pup after pup.

His belly never flat because of Terry’s love; his tits always nice and full.

How it would look with a pup latched on, his belly round with another one inside.

An omega like that - already supple and soft - body clearly ready to be bred - is nothing but enticing to an alpha - a body like that is meant to be bred.

A body like that will be bred.

Because a body like that is asking for it.

And Terry is going to give it to him.

Not even a week into their reluctant courtship - only because Danielle cannot fathom why an alpha, especially one of Terry’s stature, would ever want him - Terry tells Daniel of his plan to mate and bred him - as soon as possible - preferably within the month.

Terry wants to get started as soon as possible - get as much of the fertile years he has left.

Hopefully it takes on their wedding night ….

If not though, they’ll have plenty of practise.

In fact he might not let the little omega leave their bedroom or bed until it takes.

Marathons of sex to get him used to being taken so much - in anticipation for his heat and first breeding session during it.

Because if his seed doesn’t take while Terry fucks him full waiting for a heat, it will when a heat hit him. The little omega has been on suppressants so long - that when it hits it’s going to be a doozy.

Terry can’t wait. He’s helped omegas through heat but, never with the intention to breed though, always taking the utmost precaution, and now it will be with the intention to breed, and with his own mate.

In the time it takes for the wedding to be arranged, he courts Daniel, as he would have, albeit it would have been a longer courtship, had Daniel been younger, but there is still enough time to show him off; make his intention known to everyone and anyone.

The papers speculate Daniel is already pregnant, much to Daniel’s horror and Terry’s delight.

He does get his hands on his omega before then, but saves ridding Daniel of his pesky virtue to their actual wedding night, as is tradition.

The rules are strict on any of his potential heirs being conceived outside of the confines of marriage. Although not like a few weeks would be noticeable really.

The omega will be checked the day of the ceremony, to ensure he is a suitable candidate to bare Terry’s pups but he could easily pay the doctor to look the other way, and say he was still pure.

Still, he will not disrespect his little mate like that.

Their wedding night turns out to be everything and more.

Daniel in his traditional omegan wedding night attire - a sheer slips that hides nothing with a deep v showing off those cute little tits of him, the hem so low he keeps tugging it down ina vain attempt to cover himself. He is aware that his special place is fully visible when he moves in certain ways. He gives up though as trying to cover there only exposes his chest.

Although his body is innocent to these matters - confirmed by the required exam - of which Terry was present for - his age means he’s not completely naive to how these relations between an alpha and their omega work.

Daniel knows he is to be filled with his alpha’s manhood, and that his alpha will spend himself inside him. That his seed will be what grows the pup inside him.

He knows omegas cause this sin anyway, their husbands to harden, so they can have their omega in this manner.

These are his husband’s rights and his duties to his husband upon their marital bed (and anywhere else I shall decide to have you, sweetheart.)

Being filled with his husband’s seed will both consummate their marriage and result, hopefully, in a pup, although he’s not at the best time in his cycle for this.

This information has given to Terry - as os hos right as his soon to be alpha - his mate’s cycle and when he last had his monthly courses.

Terry is glad for this though, secretly hoping it doesn’t happen until his heat, as he wishes to experience his mate in heat.

His new mate is nervous, though he need not be.

Terry can already feel himself hardening under his ceremonial red, silk robes, from just the sight of his the little beauty.

“You look lovely, sweetheart. Absolutely ravishing,” and ravished he shall be.

After this night, he will be completely ruined for anyone else.

Terry will make damn well sure of that.

Daniel blushes, and it extends down his chest, self consciously trying to cover himself.

“None of that now,” Terry remarks, as he gentles wraps a hand around his wrist, closing around it easily, moving it away so nothing, save the scant material blocks his view. “You are mine to look at and touch now after all.”

And look and touch he shall.

He stands, a finger tracing down between those small mounds, dipping inside material barley covering him, caressing him through the fabric til they harden and poke against it before smoothing back up and pushing the fabric down his shoulder so he is exposed fully.

He can smell how wet the little omega is just from these simple touches.

Tastes it moments later when he opens his legs, burying his face in that wet cunt.

The little omega screams, arching up as the alpha laps at him, trying to close his legs around the alpha’s head - this feeling completely new and overwhelming.

The alpha’s tongue flicking against his stiff bud, a fingers fucking in shallowly, careful of the precious maidenhead.

Daniel’s touched himself there - pleasured himself by rubbing his special spot, and he thought that felt sinfully good, but this is something else entirely.

He comes like that, practically soaking the alpha’s face, who keeps licking up everything his already wrung out body has to offer.

Then, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of his hips.

His cock sinking into the equally soft body; his body opening for the alpha.

His small tits moving with the force of their love making.

Later Terry will want to see how they look as he’s taken from behind on his hands and knees.

Can’t wait to see his gorgeous omega in the proper breeding position. The only reason he wasn’t taken like that first was because Terry wanted his omega to be facing him when he was taken for the first time; watch his face as he was filled with cock for the first time, fucked wide open as full. Watch his face when he was filled with his alpha’s seed; watch his face as Terry possibly put their first child inside him.

When later comes, it finds his omega equally how Terry wants him. His face in the mattress now, Terry rubbing at his rosebud, feeling his omegan pussy clench around him; his body practically squeezing the orgasm out of him - desperate for more of his seed.

“This is how an omega best serves god - under his alpha as is intended,” Terry tells him, as he comes again, growling into Daniel’s ear, leaning forward to do so, cock driving in even deeper, filling the virgin womb.

Pulled back, so Daniel is sitting in his lap, back to his broad chest, Terry’s hands covering his chest, another on his lower belly, swollen with seed, swears he can feel his cock as it moves inside his mate, sure and true, owing the little omega completely.

Rubbing his swollen belly, his chest, “and this is how you will serve your alpha and god best - until your body does as intended as is filled with my child.”

Daniel knows this will be sooner rather than later, his husband not even going soft inside him.

Any question about Terry finding him undesirable are put to rest.

He has never felt so wanted or loved.

Placing a smaller hand over the alpha’s hand still rubbing his lower belly, he turns his head seeking his husband’s mouth.

When the kiss breaks, Daniel smiles. “I shall always endeavour to do as god intended and as my alpha desires.”

Terry’s alpha swells with pride and his perfect little mate. He chose well.

#ask #I got an ask 🤩#cobra kai #daniel larusso #karate kid #terry silver #silverusso #silverrusso #I need a puritan verse

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