jolly_cuckoo
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“I’m sorry, Alastor, if it looks like I’m breaking my own rules," Charlie snapped, feeling her hair prickle, “and for me not willing to imagine having sex with someone who—I presume!—would never want it—”
“You presume a lot, darling—"
“Because consent is the sexiest thing, and I would neve—” Alastor’s words finally reached Charlie’s brain, cutting her tirade short. She realized he had moved backward a bit, placing his head on his palm, looking at her in amusement. “I’m sorry? I… presume?”
One-shot, where Alastor does as he pleases, and Charlie is not quite sure how to react to what pleases Alastor.
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in the end was nothing (don’t be afraid) by jolly_cuckoo
Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
05 Sep 2024
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He leaned in close, until she felt his breath against her ear.
“How does it feel,” he whispered, “when everyone you cared about is gone?”
Charlie stiffened.
“What are you talking about?” Her throat suddenly felt dry, each word coming out with a struggle. “I care… about all my residents.”
Alastor’s gaze lingered on her reflection as though he saw something she couldn’t.
“And yet,” he murmured, “you reek of despair.”
Charlie-centered Charlastor fic. A lot of reflection on redemption and loneliness. -
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Let's say Charlie is a 2,000-plus-year-old creature secretly destined to become an Antichrist but having no idea about the last part. Otherwise, everyone else is in character and follows the original plot line.
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Charlotte Morningstar, the heir to Hell’s throne, was all about unicorns and rainbows. It's a good thing that hell itself is not; it means a very small amount of them is available. Otherwise, Princess would have a problem.
The thing is, Charlotte Morningstar was allergic to unicorns and rainbows.
Charlie needs to overcome her little problem, and Alastor happens to be just the right cure.
Recent bookmarks
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Alastor's past comes back to haunt him, and Charlie is forced to contend with some very difficult moral quandaries.
Bookmarked by jolly_cuckoo
30 Dec 2024
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“I suppose, darling, that you are absolutely and inextricably determined and decided upon this course?” he broke in, gaze fixed somewhere above her head. “No substitutions accepted under any circumstances? No chance of a thunderbolt realization that you’d genuinely prefer to skin me alive instead, and convert my hide into an attractive wall hanging?”
Here we go. “Al—“
“Or might my kidneys be of interest? I have quite the fine matched set, which would be excellent broiled with some sherry and cream. And of course there’s always my liver—”
Charlie cupped his chin, digging her claws in ever so slightly; forced his eyes skyward to meet hers. “No skinning, no kidneys, and no liver! Besides, you know that I know that you only have half a liver anyway! Trying to pass off damaged goods as equivalent to your gorgeous ears in an effort to wriggle out of an already agreed-upon forfeit; that’s low, Alastor. Real low.”
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Sequel to drink the flower away. Alastor may have had a blissful week of delight at Charlie’s expense, but such pleasures always carry a price, and now it’s his turn to suffer in a manner of her choosing.
After all, those that dance must pay the piper.
Bookmarked by jolly_cuckoo
08 Nov 2024