#[ SHAME ON ME who didn't draw anything last year ?? ]

[despairforme]

What the fuck we're already six days into November??

[cat3ch1sm]

💚~ hi!! this is my first fic in so long, im so sorry for disappearing for almost two months ... idk I've been at a loss for motivation for a while. happy new years i guess😭. but it's a story based off of @a-hazbin-reader recent headcanons about alastor (first hazbin hotel writing!! exciting !!) i happened to come across it and immediately saw a fic idea finally. all credits to them and the person who requested the original writing (hope they see this too lololol) !!! also yes my anime writings will also return so yayy im officially back!!

heads up this is super long it's like 15 pages cause ya girl got a little carried away 😅 i hope you all enjoy and reqs are open for all!

🌲❦(๑˙❥˙๑)~ mentions of violence , abuse, bit of blood, alcohol, language, lewd language a little bit at the start, fem!reader

alastor x fem!reader

"Angel. Are you able to draw absolutely anything else?"

The aforementioned spider demon stared straight at Charlie with his brow arched and a shit-eating smirk on his lips. Beside his face he haughtily held up a sheet of paper with one of four hands, a drawing depicting nothing other than a giant penis.

"Nope." He popped the "p."

The hotel residents and employees, including Angel, Husk, Vaggie, Nifty, you, and Alastor were doing Charlie's usual scheduled feel-good activity. The devil's daughter had given out paper and pencils, gathered everyone in a circle and told everyone to draw something that made them happy. And of course Angel Dust, lewd as always, had spent a frankly concerning amount of time drawing the member currently on display on his paper.

Everyone just stared at the drawing in silence. Examining it while Angel continued to hold it up with not an ounce of shame on his face.

"Why is it... anatomically correct?" you finally questioned, tilting your head and squinting at the piece.

Vaggie, sitting beside her girlfriend, let out an exasperated groan, looking from the drawing to Angel with undisguised revulsion. "Angel Dust. First you drew pills, then you drew a liquor bottle, and for the last three goddamn turns we've given you, you've drawn a dick. Come on. Are you even trying-"

"Whadd'ya mean?" Angel asked innocently. "Charlie said to draw somethin' that makes me happy. Dicks make me happy. And as a worker here, you shouldn't be judgin' me," the porn star added smugly, making Vaggie let out an impatient growl.

Business as usual in the Hazbin Hotel.

"Well, I mean, you can't really say he didn't try," Husk deadpanned in a gravelly voice. "I mean, look at the vein-"

Ding dong!

"Oh, wow, hey, someone's at the door!" You'd never seen anyone move as fast as Charlie in that moment, and Vaggie was in close pursuit. In a split second, Nifty's tiny frame was flying after them both.

"Someone's at the door!" Nifty repeated in a high-pitched voice.

"Right. While they're distracted, I need a damn dick- fuck. Drink," Husk snapped, rising from his place on the floor. Angel immediately started laughing while Husk wasted no time lighting into him. "Shut up. You and your fucking anatomically correct dick got into my head," you could hear Husk snarl while Angel's taunting laughs never ceased as they headed off to the bar.

With those two gone, it was just you sitting in the circle, blinking. "Right," you murmured, standing up and dusting yourself off.

"Well, my dear? What did you draw?" came the oh-so-familiar drone of the Radio Demon's voice from the corner of the room. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips at the sound of it, and glanced up to see Alastor standing with his trusty mic stand, beckoning you to come closer. Of course, you obliged.

You scoffed a little, smile turned slightly sarcastic. "Well... I was going to draw you, but Angel suddenly became the Picasso of Penises and I didn't get around to it."

Alastor laughed good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around your waist and planting a gentle kiss on your head. "Ah, always the sentimental one, aren't you, my dear? Well, no matter. It's the thought that counts."

Your smile turned genuine again at his gesture and Alastor noticed. "There's that smile, sweetheart. Now, if you'd just keep it on your face at all times without fail, we could be quite the formidable pair."

You kissed your teeth with mock exasperation and lightly shoved Alastor away. "Oh, here you go again. And I thought we were having a moment. Alastor, my face just cannot stay like yours for that long-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Charlie came rushing back into the room, her sudden entrance startling you a little. She made her way up to you and Alastor. "Hey, um, Y/N? There's a woman at the door who says she's looking for you. She seems really upset."

Your face wrinkled in confusion. Someone looking for you? You weren't friends with anyone really outside the Hotel and those affiliated with it, so you had no clue who would be searching for you. You glanced at Charlie with a "What's going on?" look and with some reluctance pulled away from your boyfriend's grip to follow her.

As you neared the lobby, you heard a distressed-sounding voice in the door, and confusion growing you walked a little faster to the entrance. But before you could even register who the visitor was, she'd thrown her arms around you, fingernails digging painfully into your skin. But the stench of her familiar perfume wafting unwelcomed into your nose, into your mouth, smothering you and strangling you let you know the identity of this woman without even having to see her face.

You instantly stiffened, limbs suddenly like metal rods, not at all softening into her embrace. Your eyes went wide and you could feel your pulse speeding up.

"Mother?"

"My love! Oh, my precious girl!" she cried, pulling out of that suffocating hug for a moment to cup your cheeks in her cold hands, hands that no matter how gently they touched you their touch would always sting. She peered into your eyes with watery ones of her own, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I missed you so, my dear. This is where you've been hiding? I was so dreadfully worried!" Her eyes, always scrutinizing, ran up and down your figure in the way that made you want to tear the flesh from your bones.

"Oh, and I was worried you were starving somewhere. You were such a frail, skinny thing before on Earth. It's a great relief to see you've put some weight on your bones."

And the first stone was thrown.

"Mother." It was the only word you could seem to utter, fighting the urge to throw up, bile collecting in your throat. Her voice was like a slap to the face, and it was only your mother's grip that kept you from actually staggering backward. And how the others were just staring, awed, at the scene, Charlie's eyes sparkling with tears, Vaggie with a hand on her shoulder and a knowing smile, Angel and Husk watching contentedly from a distance, and Nifty clinging to Alastor who was smiling as usual. God, if you didn't vomit right fucking now, you'd be surprised. But you knew what they all saw in their clouded vision- a heartfelt reunion between mother and daughter. But really? It more closely resembled a predator at last capturing its prey.

You really couldn't hear what she was saying over the pounding in your head, but somehow you were in her arms again, and she was fawning and cooing over you like you were a child, showering you with kisses that burned like molten iron and rocking you back and forth. Always she loved to put on a show, loved being the center of attention.

It made you sick.

You managed to come out of your stupor long enough to shove your wailing mother away, unfazed by her crocodile tears. It was like waking up from a haze. She stumbled back slightly, and you backed away, your entire demeanor hardening. Your tone was flat when you spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

You apparently weren't doing that clean a job of masking your emotions, because the venom in your voice caught even you off guard. Your mother looked hurt- that act wasn't new to you, either- and your friends and partner surrounding you shot you disapproving and mildly disgusted looks that clearly wondered why you were being so cold to your own mother. You dropped your eyes to avoid the accusing stares, unable to slow your breathing and fighting the desire to lash out. Charlie looked bewildered and hurt, Angel Dust arched a brow, Husk appeared disapproving and Vaggie’s venomous expression said everything she wanted it to. How dare they look at you like you were the bad guy without knowing shit! She couldn't care less if you lived or died. She was here because she wanted something, and nothing more. Perhaps she heard about your role in the extermination of the Extermination and wanted a piece of the popularity you'd recently found yourself gaining. Or she came because she was probably destitute, the frivolous bitch, and wanted to suck up to either you or the powerful people you were now associated with. Whatever it was, you didn't care. You wanted her gone.

But it was clear she had no intention of leaving.

"All this time, and not one visit. And she never calls," your mother moaned in anguish, now addressing her new audience. "Perhaps I wouldn't have to track you down like a bloodhound if you would just come see your poor mother every once in a while." Her voice was overflowing with hurt and heartbreak you just could feel wasn't genuine. Before you knew it, she had broken down into sobs again, and you could only stand there stiffly, rage boiling, while the always empathetic Charlie moved to comfort the woman, rubbing her back soothingly while she sent Nifty off to get her tissues for her tears. The dirty look Vaggie shot you- "How cruel of you to do this to your innocent mother,” it said- sent heat rushing straight to your chest. Jesus fucking Christ, how could they fall for this shit? Your stomach twisted again, and this time you actually did nearly puke, suppressing a dry heave.

You did not pay any mind to your mother's display- you refused to give her the satisfaction. You turned in the opposite direction, arms folded, nails digging into your skin hard. You felt nothing seeing her cry but bitterness and icy detachment.

"I don't want to see you-"

"Well, now- who do we have here?"

Alastor appeared from the shadows with his sharp-toothed grin, glancing at you first and then your weeping mother. Before you could stifle it, a rush of hope surged through you- if anybody could get this infernal woman to leave, it would be Alastor. You turned towards him, hoping he would see how distressed you were- he was typically fairly perceptive when it came to you and your feelings. But alas, your mother caught his attention first, peering up at the Radio Demon standing over her with teary eyes and wet cheeks, a piteous expression on her face.

"The Radio Demon? Oh, well, a being like you mustn't worry about who I am. I'm just- a poor mother come to visit her daughter. But she... doesn't seem to want to see me." She sighed in a melancholy manner and slowly unburied her face from the tissue she'd been holding. "I suppose I will simply see myself out."

"Oh, nonsense. Y/N's mother, are you? I absolutely cannot allow you to remain on the streets. I insist that you stay." Alastor extended a hand out to your mother, his maniacal smile gone suspiciously gentle. It was disgustingly familiar; it was the smile he reserved normally just for you. "As... abrasive as your daughter may seem at the moment"- you felt him cast a look over at your back turned to him- "I'm sure she wouldn't want you suffering like this. Please, you're welcome to remain here."

You wanted to cry when he said this- could he really not see who this woman was? Did he really think you were just being testy? And when your mother took his hand and held it for much too long, you could take it no longer. And as everyone crowded your mother, showering her with welcomes and greetings and kindness, you pushed past everybody and walked straight out of the hotel doors, the last thing you saw being the tauntingly smug smirk on your mother's face before you slammed the doors behind you.

When you returned to the hotel, drunk, night had fallen. You hadn't seen any of your hotel mates since you'd left, and as far as you knew nobody went after you after your abrupt exit. Who the hell cared about that now, though? You'd talk to them about your deranged mother when you got inside, without her presence. Perhaps Alastor had just been being nice when he told her she could stay, and they hadn't actually been blind to why you were acting the way you were. Maybe they were just being supportive of a guest when they saw you acting out of the ordinary, knowing you usually were never snappy and stony, and still took her side. Maybe so.

You wished you hadn't had so much to drink.The pounding in your head was worse than when your mother had shown up earlier and your eyelids felt heavy. You had tripped a minimum of ten times on the way back and almost let two thugs take you in their car with them. You hated being drunk, but your mother you hated more.

With unsteady hands you pushed open the doors of the Hazbin Hotel, vision blurring a little. You weren't amazing with alcohol, and again, being drunk wasn't your favorite thing. But the moment you entered, you realized you weren't nearly drunk enough.

In the lobby sat your boyfriend, Alastor, enjoying a cup of tea with none other than your mother. The two were laughing together, which incensed you enough, but what made you wish you'd just blacked out at that bar was when you caught sight of your mother's hand on top of Alastor's as they shared a laugh over God knows what.

It didn't take long for the two to notice you in the doorway, a turbulent, unreadable expression on your face, standing as still as a statue as you took in the scene. Your mother turned to you and smiled, waving the hand with the cup of tea in it.

"Why, darling, we hadn't realized you left! Alastor is quite a charming gentleman. We were just having a moment." She slipped her hand from on top of his with a slightly mischievous smile.

Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing. You had no fucking clue how, but somehow your mother had discovered that Alastor and you were an item. She wasn't sitting here with anyone else but Alastor, drinking tea with him, laughing with him, holding his hand. And she was wearing makeup she hadn’t had on when she’d first come in the hotel- red painted on her lips, blush dotted on her cheeks and glitter on her eyelids in a display clearly meant to make an impression on Alastor and Alastor alone. It wouldn’t be the first time she'd gone after one of your partners, but it angered you no less- it was like the woman wanted to take your place somehow.

Alastor turned to you as well with a smile, but when he saw the look in your eyes, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. However, he made no comment at your slightly disheveled appearance and picked up his expression once more. 

“Why, hello, my dear. Your lovely mother was just telling me about her life before you,” Alastor enthused. “A lively woman she was! I’ve heard story after exciting story. Quite a wild one, indeed- rather unlike you, sweetheart.”

You gave Alastor what could only be described as what is called ‘the thousand-yard stare,’ expression flat, not knowing really what to say to that. Despite the fact that you were in a bit of a daze still, either from the alcohol or the fact that your mother was on a date with your boyfriend, the haughty, self-superior expression on your mother’s face was not lost on you. Nor were the cow eyes she was giving him, or how when Alastor reached for the teapot to refill his cup her hand was conveniently already on the dish, lingering beneath his for what felt like hours.

She turned to Alastor, looking up at him with that sickly sweet, beaming grin of hers that she always plastered on her face when she was really about to lay it on. “I’m still wild if you ever care to find out,” she purred, batting her lashes at Alastor with an unmistakable air of seduction. 

Before you could even register it, you heard yourself saying, “Get out.”

Both your mother and Alastor turned to face you, your mother’s face having dropped and Alastor’s eyes piercing into yours. 

“What?” your mother asked, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. You truly saw red for a moment, knowing damn well those tears were as false as Angel’s lashes, and the twitching in your muscles to just lash out was almost painfully difficult to stifle. Alastor’s smile wavered a little as his eyes darted from you to your blubbering mother, who had already started her shit.

You advanced forward, your stride making your mother jump and Alastor stand, and without hesitation tore her hand from Alastor’s, yanking her arm with force that momentarily startled even you. She was pulled from her chair and forced to stand up. 

Her voice full of anguish, she pleaded, “Baby girl, what did I do wrong?” However, unmoved by her over-the-top performance, you’d already started dragging her out, not bothering to respond to her or explain why you were throwing her out. She already knew; you could see past the tears and wails and her struggles to pull away from you. Fueled by fury, distress and the afterbuzz of the alcohol, you hauled your protesting mother out of the hotel, pitilessly leaving her outside in the dark, and forcefully slammed the doors behind her. There were muffled screams of your name coming from the other side, her fists pounding on the door, but after a bit they faded away.

The moment she was gone you instantly felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest, slumping against the door with a breath of exertion and relief. But that relief quickly dissipated when you locked eyes with Alastor, who was advancing on you, his smile obviously strained. The way he spat your name at you made you shrink back slightly, realizing that he was actually not pleased.

“You cannot just throw your own mother out like that. Into the streets? My dear, that is no way to treat your mother. And frankly, it’s rude.”

You felt anger rising once more, but you didn’t want to start anything with Alastor despite the fact that he had no idea what he was talking about. Of course it looked simply like bad etiquette from his standpoint; he had no idea who your mother was. And somehow you didn’t feel it was proper to tell him- you knew how much he valued his own mother and mothers in general, and as sweet as you had always thought that was, you knew he and his rosy view of maternal relationships wouldn’t understand and perhaps not allow for your turbulent relationship with your own mother. And you didn’t want to be the one to tarnish his otherwise endearing perspective by explaining how abhorrent of a person your mother was. So despite how much you just wanted to scream at him, to tell him he had no clue what was really going on, you kept your composure, inhaling shakily.

“Alastor, please. You- you don’t know what you’re talking about. So just stay out of it, alright?”

“She’s your mother, not the devil, dear.” Alastor’s tone was back to normal, and he was speaking in his usual radio voice as if he was talking to just anyone, and it made your stomach churn. 

“She’s not innocent, Alastor, she’s in Hell-”

“Ah, but so are you and I, sweetheart.”

Your face crumpled, and you found yourself coming up short for a rebuttal. Before you could stop them, tears started to well in your eyes, frustrated that you couldn’t get through to him. Out of spite and pride, you blinked them back harshly. Alastor tilted his head and started to come towards you, his mic stand clacking on the ground as he walked, and for a moment you felt a glimmer of hope, thinking that he truly wanted to talk and get to the bottom of your animosity towards your mother. 

But the Radio Demon breezed right past you and, before you could stop him, opened the door, and your mother whom you’d thought had given up at last and left waltzed right back in, suddenly no longer the aggrieved mother you’d thrown out and back to beaming a mile a minute. The self-assured smirk she sent your way had your blood boiling with rage, and you felt powerless to act. You wanted to slap that smirk off of her face, but why wouldn’t she smirk? She had Alastor exactly where she wanted him, and both of you knew it. 

“I apologize sincerely for the earlier… incident,” Alastor told your mother with a note olf sympathy in his voice, and again he took her hand; you had to tear your eyes away, back to the scene.

“Aren’t you charming!” your mother exclaimed, voice pleasant and upbeat. ‘Don’t even think of it, I’ve already forgotten.”

“You’re too kind, miss. But in order to make up for it, I’d like to offer you to spend the night. I would hate to send a lovely woman such as yourself out on the streets of Hell after sundown. I implore you.”

Fucking Christ. You didn’t even have to see her to know the way she was grinning at you. Your shoulders tensed, rising to your ears, and the tears burned hot in your eyes. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction, you bit your inner cheek hard enough to draw blood so as to not make the slightest sound alerting her to your tears.

“What a kind invitation. It’s nice to know at least somebody wants me here.” An icy silence from you. “It’d be rather rude not to accept; I would be happy to spend the night.”

“Lovely!” Alastor praised. 

You couldn’t take any more. Unable to stifle your sobs, hot tears falling down your cheeks, you tossed back a cracked “I’m going to bed,” and stormed out of the lobby with your head down, rushing upstairs as fast as you could and ignoring Alastor’s calls of your name. Just as you slammed the door to your room, you heard your mother say, “Oh, don’t worry about her. Let her cool off for a bit, and then I’ll go after her. A mother always knows how to cheer up her child.”

It was quiet now. Hours ago Angel Dust had returned from his work and Charlie and Vaggie had locked up for the night. Nifty had been, though with much effort, put to bed by Husk who had then closed up the bar and retired himself. You didn’t know where your mother or Alastor were, and you didn’t want to. 

You were the only one up now, and you had finally run out of tears. Your head was stuffy, your eyes were sore and bloodshot, and you could feel the beginnings of a hangover coming on. It felt like days you’d spent just crying in your bed, unable to suppress the emotion you’d felt since your mother reappeared that morning. Charlie had actually come to check on you earlier, worried, along with Vaggie, but Alastor had told them to let you be for now. You’d heard their muffled conversation from outside your door.

You just wished Alastor would understand, that they all would understand. Your mother wasn’t a mother. She didn’t nurture, she didn’t love, all she did was belittle you, bully you, and take from you. Yet never once had you been able to figure out what you’d ever done to her. You had tried so hard to help and to please her as a living child, then teenager, then adult- tending to your siblings when she was out on the town, working multiple jobs to take care of the house while she spent the day blackout drunk and the nights in the city, and still desperately believing she would change, you sent her portions of your salary when you grew older and begged her to utilize the money, but she always blew it on material shit. And as if it wasn’t enough that you had to be the mother to yourself and your siblings, she beat you too, mostly when she was drunk but sometimes you felt it was just for her amusement or to make you feel small and worthless. As a teenager she did nothing but sabotage you- you couldn’t ever have friends over because she was always passed out on the couch or acting erratic and stinking of cheap liquor, and you had to fight like hell to get your siblings out of there after you left home for school. And yet you had still had hope for her.

That all changed when you came to Hell. It was the end of the road for real now, and you figured there was no point trying to reconcile with your mother anymore. So you’d left her in the past, thinking it was over, finally allowing yourself a little peace. But you hadn’t realized the extent of the resent you’d been harboring until she showed up at the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel. All those feelings just came rushing back.

Another hour or so passed and your swollen eyes were dried out and heavy-lidded. Exhausted from fretting about your mother and regretting the amount you'd had to drink, you turned over in your bed with a stifled groan and closed your eyes, hoping that sleep would finally find you and you could escape the events of the day at least for a little while. But just as you were drifting off, you were startled by the sound of your bedroom door opening.

You let out a moan that was half confusion and half sleepiness, and rolled over just a little to glance at the door through hazy eyes. “Alastor?” you mumbled questioningly, rubbing your eyes groggily.

But the voice that responded woke you right up.

“Not a chance, pet.”

You sat up instantly, knocking the bedcovers off. In the doorway, a shadowy silhouette in the dimly lit hallway, was your mother. A discordant note of exasperation sounded in your head; the woman couldn't let you be even at this hour? For the moment at least, you were more mildly annoyed than pissed like you were earlier, just wondering what in the hell she could possibly want now.

“Why are you even-”

You cut yourself off and immediately jumped out of the bed just as your mother lunged at you like a pouncing tigress; you'd sensed the attack in the way she had been moving and acted accordingly before she could maul you. It didn't mean it didn't still catch you off guard, though.

Your voice rising, you snapped, “What the hell are you-”

Again you were interrupted when she sprung off the bed and snatched your wrists in her iron grip before you could dodge again; her clasp was tight and bruising and you winced painfully. You caught a glimpse of her eyes in the faint light, and they were inflamed, wild with fury she'd probably been suppressing this whole time. It wasn't a new expression.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she snarled, voice trembling with fury. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you demanded, tearing your wrists from her grasp and moving a distance away from her so she was on one side of the bed and you were on the other. By the bewildered look on her face, she was clearly not expecting you to break away so effortlessly; maybe thinking she could just abuse you like she did when you were a defenseless child.

Like hell.

“What the hell are you even mad at me for?”

Your mother, seething, launched more accusations at you. “You think you're better than me, now, is it? Saw your sorry ass on the news after that damn Extermination rebellion. Bet it took your ego up a few notches killing those Exorcists, huh? And now that you're in some fancy hotel, dating some powerful boytoy and hiding behind hell's princess, you think you can just get rid of me?”

“Apparently fucking not, because here you are. And I'm not hiding. I'm trying to get away from you.”

Your mother let out a bitter, droll laugh. “Oh, you think that's how this works?” she hissed in an icy manner, and even though you were already a good distance away you backed up further still. “Think again, whore. I'm the one who deserves to be here, not some ungrateful little cunt who just happened to fall out of me. If I have to live destitute in the back alleys of Hell, so do you.”

The heartless insults and vulgarities she hurled your way would have shattered the living version of you. But it was about time your mother learned that you were no longer the pleading daughter you’d been on Earth, and instead of piercing your heart the names merely bounced off of you.

“You might recall I spent my whole damn life trying to help you,” you answered with equal coldness. “And for nothing, too, because here the hell we both are. Don't blame me because you turned out to be the nothing you always were.”

Without warning, she lunged at you, rushing forward like a charging bull, and though you tried to dodge she managed to snatch a handful of your hair and slam your head into the wall. You let out a cry of shock and pain and spots exploded in front of your vision before you reached up, tore her hand from your head and shoved her forward. You advanced again, teeth bared and fists balled, unwilling to let her get up- but before you could swing, there was a crackle in the air- and what followed was a cacophony of static, crackling, and microphone feedback that would've deafened an elephant. But the sound wasn't new to you, and you weren't surprised in the least when you lifted your eyes to see Alastor, smile maniacal and glowing red eyes wild as he entered the room. The sudden explosion of sound made your mother flinch and clap her hands over her ears, and seeing your opening, you kicked her to the ground; her head hit the wall rather roughly and she lost consciousness, her body going limp. You were breathing heavily, staring at her body sprawled on the ground without pity.

Alastor's eyes lost their luminescence and his smile softened; and he came over to you, attempting to touch you, but you shied away. You weren't necessarily ready to forgive him; if he'd just done a little more pushing and hadn't invited your mother here with you, this could have been avoided. You dropped your eyes to the floor.

“I'm sorry, my dear,” Alastor offered in a voice that was sufficiently staticky. “I wasn't too kind to you today.”

You wanted to say, no shit, but held your tongue, back to him still. Feelings of resent still swirled within you, but admittedly, hearing his apology did make them dissipate a little.

“Why is it you didn't simply tell me she was like this?”

Now you were silent not out of spite but more because…you simply didn't know what to say? Where were you to even begin? How would you explain that you didn't want to somehow tarnish his view of mothers by explaining your history with your own? And that you didn't want him to feel guilty about having a good relationship with his mother while yours was knocked out on the floor in front of you? And that you didn't want him to lose his love of mothers because you were unfortunate enough to have a shitty one? 

Somehow you managed to splutter all of that into something coherent, because Alastor gathered you in his arms without waiting for your approval, which you didn't mind, finally feeling somewhat okay since your mother had first shown up. You felt his hands in your hair, taming the out of place strands, and he lifted your wrists to his eyes, tutting in disapproval when he saw the bruises beginning to form. He settled for wordlessly kissing the deepening marks gently, but when he spotted the gash on your head where your mother had slammed you into the wall, his smile turned positively venomous. His head did a full 180 on his neck, which always made you cringe, to glare at your groggily awakening mother, who froze in her position on the floor when she caught his alarming gaze.

Alastor turned back to you, static popping in the air, and his smile grew- if that was even possible. “Well, sweetheart? What would you like me to do with her?”

You were frankly tired now of fighting your mother, who had staggered from the ground, rage still evident in her visage but with Alastor present she wasn’t about to act. So with a weary sigh, slumping into Alastor’s chest, you muttered, “I just want her gone.”

“Anything you wish.” And within the next few minutes, Alastor had summoned Nifty, who was more than eager to take out the trash, and had the tiny janitor drag your mother from your room by her hair. You lost sight of the two after they left, but by the way Nifty was giggling the entire time she was hauling your mother, you had a feeling the next several hours wouldn’t be too enjoyable for her.

You’d been on edge the whole day, but you didn’t quite realize the sheer amount of tension your mother’s presence had placed on you until it was only you and Alastor inside the room. His hand traced soothing circles around your back, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

The morning, after what seemed like centuries, finally did arrive. You were already up although day had barely broken, and that was because the earlier commotion had disturbed the hotel residents and they had literally gotten you and Alastor (who had evidently felt bad enough to spend the rest of the night with you, which he didn’t often do for posterity reasons, kissing the side of your head where it was wounded and apologizing once more) up out of bed to barrage you both with an onslaught of questions (and Nifty remaining suspiciously silent save the occasional maniacal giggle). With some reluctance you gave the group a brief explanation of everything that had gone down, Alastor standing beside you with a protective hand on your shoulder. Long story short, everyone basically grasped that they’d fucked up by allowing your mother in and judging you harshly about it, and before long Charlie was in tears and begging for you to forgive her, Vaggie had admitted her remorse over it, Angel Dust was shifty-eyed and sheepish, and Husk apologized to you formally. You dismissed the apologies with a grateful look, and that seemed to satisfy them all except Charlie, who you had to tell straight out you truly did forgive her at least five times and that only set her off bawling again to the point Vaggie had to carry the girl out.

Alastor, although one couldn’t tell by his face, apparently did feel guilty about his involvement in the whole fiasco because he took you out for breakfast and spent the rest of the day with you, and by the time night fell once more your cheeks hurt from smiling so much and your spirits were significantly lifted. It wasn’t until the two of you were in bed together (again, your lucky day, you didn’t even have to convince him) that he broke the long, contented silence you two had been sharing to inform you curtly:

“You didn’t ruin my opinion of mothers, you know.”

You sat up at this, eyes wide with hope and relief. He rose along with you to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t?”

“Oh, no. My dear, I love my own mother dearly, but don’t think I’m not aware that others may not have the same relationship with their own mothers. I did admire your resilience, though, and though it really wasn’t necessary, I do appreciate your attempt to spare my feelings. If I do say so myself”- his hand came to rest on your lower belly- “you seem like you’d make quite a stellar mother yourself.”

“Alastor.”

“Merely a thought.”

[lavenderslabyrinth]

A Sacrificial Game 2

King!Dragon x Reader

Masterlist

p.t 1

pt. 3

Welcome to part two! I'm a very slow writer so you may notice that I posted these parts somewhat consecutively. That's bc I wrote part one last year;;; I know, I know, but I got a new keyboard and I'm obsessed with the way it feels so hopefully it will get me back into writing again! Does anyone even read these...? Gah whatever. Enjoy!

CW: ♢ Abduction ♢ Blood/Injury ♢ Mention of Forced Stripping (Brief, not done by love interest) ♢

The next time your eyes opened back up to the dreary world, a groan was involuntarily passing through your lips. Pain. Fuck. Every breath felt like you were splitting open, and as a result, moving was not a very appealing option. Your ribs, whether fractured or broken, you didn't know. But, oh, it was undeniable something was wrong.

The pain had you sweating despite the night's air being blisteringly cold-- colder than it should have been for this time of year, and the more you got your bearings, the more you were able to process what was around you.

A single, dingy lantern hung from the wooden ceiling above you. It swung wildly with every bump and jostle, the flame within it threatening to flicker out each time. The room you were in was moving, no, no room, you were in a carriage. You tried to push through the pain to get yourself up but found your movements restrained-- expensive looking silk ropes curling around your body and a simple white gown you hadn't been wearing before was now draped over your figure. Though pretty, and far more expensive than anything you'd ever owned before, it did little to ease the painful shivers that wracked through you.

You'd been washed, groomed, and redressed with care, but hot rage filled your chest nonetheless. You'd had little to nothing to your own name-- living still with your family and no claim to a spouse, child, or land.

They've stripped you of those things. Taken away your chance at a normal life, and now, too, they've taken your dignity.

A particularly rough bump in the road sent your body up and off the ground for just a moment before slamming you back into the rough wood of the floor. By the Damned... The pain left you winded as a stabbing sensation shot through your entire body.

"Are you alright?" A meek voice spoke up from above you. There, on one of the benches, a meek priest looked down at you with sad eyes full of pity. Was he also Chosen? Were you both about to meet your end? No... His hands were not bound behind his back as yours were-- instead, they freely laid folded in his lap.

Your gaze hardened and, seemingly unable to stand it, he looked away in shame. “Why are you doing this?” You asked coldly--you knew... but hope was still pushing back the dread that was steadily gathering in your gut. He didn’t answer at first, instead he simply shrunk into himself more, as if somehow he would be able to curl around himself and hide away from your accusatory eyes. “Where are we going?”

It took time for him to give you an answer. Time you, whether willingly or not, gave. The air thick with the silence between you two, only broken periodically by the groan of wheels or the creaking of the lantern above, but with your stubborn, uninterrupted glaring, he broke.

"The border that separates man from beast... you've been Chosen."

Bastards. Those bastards! What were the chances?! Did they even actually draw?!

It kind of dawned on you that... they may not have. You questioned authority often, butting heads against those who supported this horrific tradition-- many of the higher officials found your outspoken presence to be a nuisance, and with their own unmarried children to look out for..... Was it really that far of a stretch to say you'd been sacrificed in more ways than one?

"...Let me go." You demanded, and when you were met with resistance, your rage bubbled over. "Let me go this instant! Now!" Shouting hurt, but the fear and adrenaline eased your pain into fuel for your rage.

“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Harder than it has t- was he fucking kidding?

“You cruel bastard! Damn you and damn that Temple as well!”

As though the carriage had also had enough of your behavior, the jostling movement stopped. With an eerie croak, the doors swung open to reveal the drenched silhouette of gruff looking man in temple garb. If it would have been a stranger you saw, it would still have been equally terrifying, but perhaps it would have hurt a bit less.

You immediately recognized the man as Father Kyron, and a cold weight settled in your gut. The Father had watched you grow and mature since before you could walk-- often taking the time out of his day to play ball or sneak treats to the other children after services had ended. He'd always been such a warm pillar of the community, someone everyone could feel safe with. But those kind eyes that had always looked on at you before were now completely vacant of that gentle affection.

A monster was all that was left.

The rain pelted down on his leather-clad shoulders, cold droplets splattering onto you from the force of their impact. Whether or not he was a holy man of the temple, he looked nothing short of a demon in this moment.

Your screams went ignored as you fought not to be dragged out by your hair; body being dumped unceremoniously into the ground's painful embrace.

Kyron didn't spare you another glance as he once more took ahold of the reins. The priest did the same, shutting the wooden doors with a slam, snuffing out the little light the lantern within had to offer you.

The raging tides of emotions slowly simmered away as the carriage finally moved out of view, and now, instead of anger, hopelessness began to ease it's way into your veins. What could you do? You'd been abandoned. Left to lie in the dirt with only the echoing throbs in your side to keep you company.

Your screams turned to wails, then to sobs, and then to silence. And for a few moments you sat there, unable to process the shock of it all.

There's a funny thing about shock that no one tells you about. When there are plenty of important things for your mind to race through-- whether that be the betrayal of a beloved mentor figure, what would happen to your family, if your father was alright, who would tell Alikar... your mind often defaults to something insignificant; something harmless. And all you could think about were those damn peaches that had been laid together so carefully in your mother's wicker basket by Alikar's careful hand.

Had they all been trampled into the ground? Or would your family be able to salvage the last things you touched into something good and safe and warm for themselves...

Your eyes fixated on watching the way the rain thinned your blood and how it trailed down your skin to mix with the mud beneath you. The colors sickeningly seeped into the once pure white satin of your dress like the branching of a tree. The fabric feeling like it took root to your skin as it clung uncomfortably to your figure. It was a suffocating feeling and, surprisingly, was enough to bring a grimace to your face and give your mind enough clarity to realize footsteps were fast approaching where you sat.

"Here! Over here!"

"Damn it all, I knew I heard something!"

"Get the towels, the poor things soaked!"

Unknown voices made their approach accompanied by the warm, softened glow of lantern light. Though vaguely, you could make out the figures of a small group of armor-clad individuals.

Perhaps it was a bit of a cliche. The knights in shining armor coming to the maiden in distress-- but you could afford little to focus on the irony of it all. All you knew was that whomever held that lantern would be a fate far kinder than hungry animals or a slow fall to the elements.

Saved.

You were saved.

"H-Help me" Was all you could muster, the relief allowing exhaustion and weakness to finally take root in your body. Lead weights settling in your limbs and a quiver in your voice.

The closer they came, the clearer you could see them. They were guards, no doubt patrolmen assigned to protect the border, but very obviously not those of the human kingdom.

Otherfolk

Primarily shifters from what you could tell because, despite their mostly human appearances, their natural, beastly features still shown through. Large rabbit ears, a long flowing tail, wings stuck to their backs, or faces that just weren't quite arranged in the typical human fashion.

To some it would have an been off putting sight, but frankly after all the interaction you'd had with humans for the day... an inhuman face was a welcome sight.

"We've got ya, we're here to help, don't be scared." The rabbit shifter cooed, her gentle paw-like hands cupping your face sweetly as the bat's nimble fingers worked away at your bindings.

Her palms were soft and warm, the sleeves of her tunic smelling like the herbs and incense your mother often used at home. Your eyes closed as you couldn't help but lean into her comforting touch. For a moment, just a moment, the thumb swiping away your tears was not that of a stranger, but your mother. And for a moment... just a moment. You weren't shivering in the cold rain of an unknown land, but instead simply sat at the kitchen table at home waiting for peach pie on your birthday...

---

---

---

Ah. Was this death? If it was... it was peaceful. Never before had the space around you felt so soft and warm, and, faintly, there was the gentle scent of citrus in the air.... but was death supposed to be this painful?

Inhaling deeply, you winced, eyes cracking open as you moved blearily to try and sit up only to experience probably one of the most excruciating pains you'd ever felt.

"Easy! Oh, easy, my lady!" A familiar voice fretted, those same gentle hands from before supporting your weight with surprising strength against your shoulders. Carefully, she eased you back in place. "Lie down, the doctor gave strict orders for you to rest as much as possible until the healer can arrive. They aren't broken, but whomever you put up a fight against did one hell of a job on your ribs."

Your gaze fixated on the rabbit as she began to visually check you over once more with her large, rounded black eyes. She wasn't very tall, a bit below average at most, and held a very lithe figure. But despite that, she was donned with heavy, metal plated armor kept a sword neatly sheathed at her hip.

"Who.. are you?" You cringed as your voice was much rougher than expected, but who could blame you? After a night of screaming into the cold like your life depended on it, because it most certainly had, anyone's voice would have been a bit spent.

Without missing a beat, the rabbit shifter handed you a warm glass of water, which you greedily gulped down as she spoke.

"My name is Eve. I am a member of the king's guard here at the palace. I've been assigned as your personal guard, my lady." She bowed at the waist with a practiced precision, her fluffy ears tilting back so as to not land in your lap. "May I know the name of the lady I serve?"

"Hey, pause. Palace?" You full-stopped your assault on the glass of water and took your first good look at your surroundings. Sure enough, it was far from your typical healers hut or hostel.

The sheer size of the bed alone was the first thing you noticed. It was definitely made for something, or rather someone, that was far larger than you as the length of it easily extended another three or four feet past where your own legs ended. The tall, expertly carved banisters loomed over your head, supporting a canopy of heavy silks that seemed to trickle to the floor like water.

And the room

What a room it was. It was as massive as the bed with pristine, marble cut floors and high arching windows. Beautifully intricate moldings were placed all around, masterfully crafted to perfectly mirror one another. It was a chamber fit for a lady, no, a princess-- both of which you were not.

"I... don't think I'm supposed to be here." You murmured, eyes still trailing over the details of the walls that practically dripped with luxury.

Eve's ears tilted back once more, this time nervously as her tiny mouth curved into a frown. "Is the room not to your liking, my lady? I can ask to have you moved to something bigger--"

"No! Goodness no! This is more than enough! Too much, actually." You stumbled over yourself in your haste to not be fussed over to such a grand extent, which made Eve's expression falter from one of concern to confusion. "I'm not a noble," you clarified. "My name is (y/n), just (y/n)." Back home, impersonating a noble was enough to lose a limb if you were lucky-- your head if you weren't. Hopefully, if you cleared up the confusion quick enough, whoever misunderstood and brought you here would be more lenient with their anger.

"How could I dare call the future queen by her name?"

"......Pardon?" Surely you hadn't heard that right. "The what?" Was it.. the shock? Yes, the shock. It must have not worn off yet, that was all.

"The future Queen. I'm afraid it isn't my place to elaborate any further, lady (y/n), but I assure you once his Highness' meeting finishes up he will be here to speak with you himself."

So it wasn't the shock... and the king of beasts himself would be coming here, to you, like.. this?

You didn't need a mirror to know you were ill prepared to be meeting royalty. Your hair and skin still felt dirty and strange from your previous night's rather rough introduction to the ground, and your clothes... well, perhaps more accurately described as the lack thereof...

You felt your cheeks heat in a bit of embarrassment as you gently lifted the warm blankets to peer below. You still wore the underwear you'd had on before, identifiable by the stains of blood and dirt which had settled permanently in the crevices of the fabric, but what covered the rest of your torso and legs were bandages and dressings. Your cuts and bruises had been treated, rather professionally at that if the skill and quality of the supplies had anything to say about it.

But still, it was far from a dignified look.

As if reading your mind, your rabbit knight chimed in once more. "Don't worry, my lady, his Highness is an understanding and gentle ruler. He won't judge you for something like being wounded."

While it was sweet Eve was attempting to comfort you, you were less worried about appearing weak and more focused on the fact you were damn near naked-- though that was probably an idea that mattered a lot less to someone completely covered in fur... You didn't have the heart to tell her that though. Not when she was so eager to please and had that hopeful look in her eyes.

Not that you would have had the chance to anyway as, without so much as a knock, the two heavy doors to the room swung open.

Your hands moved in a flurry to gather the thick comforter up over your chest, your startled eyes locking with another's, and for a moment, the both of you paused.

He was tall, taller than any man you'd ever known, with shoulders just as broad that laid draped in a dark-stained cloak. It was still wet with rain and what you could guess was blood based off the thicker, red pigment that dripped from the bottom hem. Heavy, leathery wings sat poised behind him like two elegant, massive shields as his spear-like tail swung languidly between them. It was evident why everything here was the size it was now. He was massive. He was imposing. And he was horrifically attractive in a way no boy from your village could ever hope to compare.

He didn't need the crown or fine clothing to be identified. You could feel the authority he held in the air the moment he entered the room, and immediately upon seeing him, you understood the stories of your kingdom's best soldiers turning tail the second his taloned foot stepped onto the battle field.

Dipping your head as best you could, you quickly averted your flustered gaze and blushing face. "I greet the King of Beasts."

You'd expected a plethora of reactions. A gentle acceptance of your greeting, a roar of anger as to why someone as lowly as you laid within his palace, or even silence as he ignored you completely

What you hadn't expected was laughter. It was a deep rumble that could have shaken the cores of mountains if he'd leaned close enough.

"Is that what they call me nowadays? 'King of Beasts?' Of all things... you humans and your silly imaginations never fail to entertain."

You only felt your cheeks darken in humiliation as you lifted your head to stare at him with complete bafflement. Was that the wrong thing to say? Instead of answering your wordless query, he instead pulled up one of the oversized chairs to your beside.

"Eve," he called to your rabbit companion with a far calmer and level tone. "You're dismissed." Your guard, whom you'd momentarily forgotten in the chaos of it all, quickly scampered out and very suddenly it was just you and him left alone in the room together.

"Forgive my intrusion, this won't take long." His tone didn't flow like an apology, but more like an order or expectation that you would forgive him. It left a sour taste in your mouth and evidently an equally sour look on your face.

His eyes narrowed.

"Unless there's something you'd care to object?"

For a moment, a primal instinct surged in your gut beneath his gaze: Fear. He was the descendant of a long lived, powerful bloodline known for having the power to snuff out thousands of lives like yours. You were comparable to a meager speck of dust in his eyes, surely-- but an emotion that overtook your momentary fear was... anger.

No, it was rage. To be ripped from your home, stripped of your dignity-- your identity, thrown to the wolves, all to be mocked and disrespected and then be told to forgive them? Forgive him?

How far must you bow your head in order to save it? How much more humiliation did you have to endure for the sake some man deeming you worthy of survival?

Men in power had stripped enough away from you today, you'd be damned if you allowed this one to make you watch the last shred of self respect you had trickle through your fingers.

"I do actually. Quite a few actually."

The beast's narrowed eyes didn't ease, but he made no move to stop you.

"Well? Go on."

You took a breath, steeling the nerves that were pleading with you not to go through with what you were about to do. It was far too late to back down now. Instead, you hold his gaze.

"You laughed at my greeting, yet failed to introduce yourself. You came in without so much of a knock, not having a shred of thought towards my decency. You sent away the only person I knew, leaving yourself, a man, alone in a room with me, a woman, which shows you also have no concern for my dignity. Not to mention you're absolutely filthy covered in... who knows what. And to top it all off you don't ask me for forgive you but tell me to." You begin to falter, slowing your ramble as his slitted pupils begin to round out. "I think you're rude, and inconsiderate and..."

"And?" He urged, leaning forward a bit which only had you pressing further back into the plush pillows that had propped you up.

"And scary."

"Scary?"

At that, the towering dragon leaned back, the sturdy wood of the chair beneath him creaking with the shift in weight. "You look me in the eye, tell me what I can and can't do within my own home, in my own country, tell me all your objections about me... all while you think I'm scary?"

Unsure where this is going, you nod a bit lamely. What else could you have said?

"I see. Well. I suppose, in my haste, I have treated you a bit roughly for a lady."

"You...have." You affirmed hesitantly, your death grip on the blankets over your collarbones easing slightly.

"Then, for that, I extend you my sincerest apologies and ask that you find it in that fiery little heart to forgive me." You weren't sure if his tone was playful, mocking, or both... but it was a start.

"I'll think about forgiving you then."

"Then I'll put forth the effort to earn it. But for now, let's start from the beginning. I am King Jarkah Drak'in, ruler of the Etherian Empire. And you are?"

You had pondered giving him a false name before, but at this point there seemed little reason to it. "(Y/n). My name is (y/n)."

"(Y/n)." He repeated back to you, the gentle rumble in his voice almost bringing back that warmth to your cheeks. "I rarely hear human names so sweet on the tongue."

You tried and failed to formulate a reply to the compliment, your thoughts stuttering over themselves.

Seemingly able to see your internal struggle, Jarkah stood back up, signaling the end to your little exchange.

"As much as I'd prefer to talk further, I realize I should take your fragile circumstances into consideration, I'll postpone our conversation until I hear word that you've recovered." Was he... still mocking you? Or was that genuine consideration? It was difficult to read his reptilian features, and even more so when his back was turned to you. "Goodnight, (y/n)."

You floundered for a response but all you managed was a meager "Goodnight" as the door clicked shut softly behind him.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Trust [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

wc: 7.8k

summary: something goes wrong with a heist and Kaz's anger lashes out at you, only later realizing it's not for the reasons you thought.

A/N: I feel like it took me literally YEARS to write this. Someone requested the central idea but I decided to expand a bit and since in anon he mentioned that they like hurt/comfort I hope I have achieved it. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

warnings: trauma (again)

taglist: @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

As soon as you stepped foot inside The Slat, you felt enormous relief to think that you could finally get some rest. The day before, the boss had told you that it was necessary to recover something and had drawn up a general outline of how things would be carried out, so to avoid mistakes, instead of sending just one group, the whole team would go. But at a certain point things had gone wrong and then the whole mission had gone awry. You were scared and everyone else was scared, but you knew that Kaz was probably the most upset about it. He hadn't spoken to anyone since you had to flee the mansion.

“Well, I declare that a resounding failure. Good night, my friends,” Jesper said, holding his side with a wince. Wylan was at his side to catch him in case the pain buckled his knees.

You sighed, defeated, and started walking towards the stairs to take a shower to remove all traces of dust, blood, and shame that you had impregnated on your skin, however, Kaz's cane stopped hitting you in the stomach, blocking your way and suffocating you at the same time.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, his voice raspier than usual. You asked yourself if he was referring to your plans, which he obviously couldn't know about, and why he was upset, but it didn't take anything more to get an answer, "What the fuck was that in the mansion?"

Oh, that is what he meant. 

To recap a bit, your goal that night was to recover a few bags of cash that a new gang at The Barrel had stolen but originally belonged to the Crow Club, i. e you guys. It was a payment for an exchange that Kaz had made days ago with art supplies or something, it was a business that none of you were very involved in.

The black-haired man knew the place where it was kept (he always seemed to know the whole city like the back of his hand) and so he had drawn up a pretty solid plan with which you could get away with it. Regularly his plans contemplated in the most opportune way each of your abilities: guns, stealth, the Grisha qualities, strength, chemicals, and the skills with your hands in which you surpassed the man. It was almost like something in you and your friends used to joke that your hands were a kind of magnet for everything shiny, although those same hands also worked perfectly to use a pick and give access to many places.

Things were going well that night, until you had to make a last-minute decision when you found out that an unknown person was in the place and you wanted to get them out of there so they wouldn't be in the crossfire. That was the 'certain point' I had mentioned before, where everything got screwed up. It was about a poor and defenseless servant girl who started screaming like crazy when she saw you and although you tried to calm her down that was enough to draw the attention of the guards, who came towards you to capture you. And since you were very busy struggling with two armed goons, you couldn't fulfill your part of the plan, which was to open the vault where the money that you were going to steal was. It had been a rather unfortunate chain of events.

"Kaz, you know I didn't mean to…"

"Are you deaf, then?" he interrupted you, ignoring your attempt at justification. He took a step towards you, limping a bit due to the lack of a cane, and then you could see the expression on his face.

You'd only seen Kaz this angry once and the poor man who caused it was already resting in peace, so you cringed in on yourself like a scared little bird.

"Or why didn't you do what we agreed?" you didn't know if he wanted a verbal answer, but even if he had, what could you say to that? It was more than obvious why you had done it "If there is a plan, it is because that plan must be executed as I have said, if not, then what would it be?"

"I shouldn’t…"

"No, you shouldn't," he interrupted again, speaking louder than usual to look imposing. And boy he was doing it. “That was the stupidest thing you've ever done, and all for a damn maid? What were you thinking?

"I wanted to help her"

"Oh really? And how did she thank you? Yelling at the guards to come to get you! Did you think about that before acting? Do you ever consider the consequences?” his voice didn't drop in volume, but rather rose gradually with each word that came out of his mouth.

You were in a panic, somehow strangely having the strength to meet his angry eyes, for you didn't think he would start saying such things to you in front of everyone else, who had been silent since the exchange had begun. You tried to think of anything to defend yourself, but even if you found the right argument you knew you couldn't outsource it due to nerves.

Even with your devoted silence, Kaz did not seem satisfied and he continued speaking.

“You had to follow simple orders: wait for the signal and open the vault. Everyone stayed in their positions. Was it very difficult for you to do that?”

"Kaz, I don't think…" Jesper started to say, trying to help him out of the situation, but he fell silent as he watched the black-haired boy turn his head to look at him. It was true, you guys hadn't seen Kaz in that state more than a few times and even the gunslinger, who loved you immensely, thought it wiser to keep silent if he didn't want the opponent's anger to lash out at him.

"Look at Jesper," he said close to your face. If he hadn't been so averse to touching you, you were sure he would have held your face to keep your gaze on him, because by this point your eyes were cloudy and you were trying to focus on anything other than the conversation “He's hurt. You are hurt. Imagine what would have happened if we hadn't been able to get out in time or if Inej hadn't come to your rescue, do you think those men would have tempted their hearts before killing all of us? Of course not! There's no room for charity here because until that servant was in real danger, she wasn't your problem. You behaved stupidly and those actions affected all of us” Kaz fell silent and you thought that was it. You were with your arms crossed, perhaps as an unconscious act of seeking protection, not daring to look at him.

But he took a few seconds to examine you and then said something else:

It is your fault that we are now in this state; without a single penny in our pockets.

The words your fault, and without a penny were the cause of a tug across your chest. It was useless to hold back the tears that had already treacherously begun to slide down your cheeks and that you wished you had the strength to wipe off with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing.

In all the time you had belonged to the crows he had never spoken to you like that. There had been disagreements, of course, and he'd even called you out for neglecting some tasks he'd given you, but those kinds of hurtful words were reserved for criminals from whom he extracted information or threatened. That's why you were so upset, because Kaz was terrifying when he put his mind to it and you'd just had the misfortune to experience it firsthand.

The rest of your friends were also perplexed by what had just happened, since most of them had found your outburst in the mansion quite justifiable, since it was an innocent life that you had tried to protect, a very present code always.

The other part that had managed to break you was knowing that the man's annoyance was actually due to the money you had caused him to lose rather than the fact that you or someone else had been in danger. Or at least that was what you had understood by the final sentence.

The silence was sepulchral, no one even dared to breathe harder than usual for fear that he would take them as the next victim, and only a small sob that escaped you broke the silence. You hoped that would soften Kaz’s expression a bit, but he didn't flinch.

A part of you thought, due to shock, to apologize to him, but you weren't even able to. You just stood in the middle of that room under his questioning gaze.

When your body finally wanted to react, you walked directly to the stairs to go up to your room, without even looking back, collapsing on the floor and crying as soon as you closed the door behind you. You didn't even think about taking a shower anymore and the burning pain in your ribs, which you hadn't mentioned to anyone about, intensified. You had to cover your mouth with your hand so that the crying wouldn’t reach the floor below and you felt that everything around you was spinning.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, which felt like hours, until someone opened the door and stuck their head inside. It was Nina, who had surely gone of her own free will but also partly at the request of others. She could hear your erratic heartbeat and your lungs struggling to hold some air, so it didn't take her more than a second to kneel next to you to wrap her arms around you and start running her hand up and down trying to comfort you. She offered to heal you and you agreed, but through it all you thought that even though the blows on your body burned like hell, what was definitely causing you the most pain was the wounds you just received to your heart.

After that night you could say that the tension in The Slat could be cut with a knife. You thought that the others were also going to blame you for the failure of the heist, with justifiable reasons, but you were pleasantly surprised to find out that this wasn’t the case, since they all told you so explicitly as soon as they had a chance. Matthias, who was most of the time the most mature among you, told you that sometimes things went wrong and that at least he was glad that you were okay; with Nina there, the physical problems could be solved and the money would be recovered somehow. But, to your surprise, it was Kaz they weren't very happy with.

You never meant to start a mutiny against the boss, God knows you didn't, but as much as you tried to change their minds, they were distant and reluctant to talk to Brekker. And Kaz, in turn, didn't exchange a single word with you.

Jesper and Nina were the ones who showed it the most, the first one kept looking down at your friend as if he could make him combust spontaneously with his eyes while the woman simply didn't say anything, as if he were invisible. The rest of the group hadn't cut off the communication suddenly, but it was evident that they weren't entirely happy with the black-haired man's behavior.

Although there were few occasions when the seven of you, or the majority, coincided in the same space, since you were always doing other things around The Barrel or the club.

You weren't the proud type, yet you refused to offer an apology for something that wasn't wrongdoing and finally stopped feeling guilty for applying this silent treatment to thinking that Kaz deserved it. Just a little. Also, if he didn't bother to talk to you, everything would be easier for you, because, although you still did some general tasks, most of the time you spent locked in your room, doing anything to entertain yourself.

If you looked at it from the outside, unaware that you guys were a bunch of criminals living in the same horrible building, that looked like a real teenage fight. But you couldn't blame yourself too much, because you were teenagers.

Sometimes, when he didn't notice, you watched him from afar. You analyzed his expression, his posture, his eyes, anything that would help you figure out if he really cared about your absence or the silence of others. You tried to believe that he was in a bad mood (more than usual) because he wanted you to not be angry anymore, but after a long time you always came to the same conclusion; he was inscrutable, shielded in that armor that you highly doubted could shatter, much less by you. Sometimes you wished you could know what Kaz was thinking so you could figure out if he had noble motives for acting the way he did or if he was just a heartless jerk. And, although your desire to read minds wasn’t fulfilled, you began to bet more on the latter the day a new job was presented. It was, now, a kind of revenge against the men of the opposing gang (who had stolen your business payment in the first place), however, when the meeting took place you noticed that he was skipping a detail. 

"And what will Y/N do?" Jesper had asked, going ahead of you, after listening carefully to the plan and realizing that you weren't contemplated anywhere. You expected Kaz to say you were going to stick with him, even if it was so he could keep an eye on you and avoid another outburst, but when he shook his head you were completely offended.

"She's not coming"

It was one thing to have received a scolding for the mistake made and quite another to be removed from the team just like that. And that Kaz had responded as if you weren't there made you feel completely humiliated and, consequently, angry.

"Great, so now it turns out that I'm grounded," you said sarcastically. It was the first time in weeks that you had spoken directly to Kaz and he just looked at you sideways for a few seconds, as if examining you, which made your blood boil even more "Are you really going to leave me out?" you continued, now with more seriousness than before. You wished he dared to face you with an answer, and you were surprised at how quickly this happened.

"It’s not personal. This time it’s better that you stay” was all the explanation he offered you. The way he said it made it clear to you that it wasn't up for discussion and you felt powerless, but before any of your friends could say anything in your defense, you decided to take it the best way.

If Kaz didn't want you around, you weren't going to make him. If you didn't receive even a measly part of the money from now on, you didn't care. If it was true that you had screwed up, you weren't sorry for anything and you weren't going to give in so easily, despite the love and respect you felt for him.

“Good luck then,” was all you said, offering the best fake smile you could have and purposely patting Kaz on the shoulder. He watched you walk away with eyes wide open in surprise, even though you didn't even notice it when you got lost in the hallway, and it was hard for him to keep his composure as he turned around again to clear up any doubts regarding how the crime would be carried out; although he tried to hide it, almost most of the group could tell.

What the hell did Kaz have against you lately? The others had made mistakes countless times and never suffered consequences as harsh as yours, because probably the hardest part had been dealing with the boss's anger and being forced to find a solution for what they had screwed up. You probably would have offered to get the money back yourself if he had let you end the problem, but you couldn't even do that because you knew it would only fan the fires of anger.

So when you left there everyone thought that things had already gone on too long and someone had to point it out to Kaz.

"Is everything clear?" he asked, looking at the crows and receiving a general nod.

We would have to wait until night to work, so once there was nothing more to say, each one dispersed in opposite directions.

“Inej,” Kaz said, not even looking back. He knew she was there, he always knew, as if there was a connection between the two of them "Everything okay?"

“Everyone is where they should be. The carriage is on its way and the streets are free”

"Good"

“But there is something else we need to talk about”

Kaz was afraid it was something to do with you, and he closed his eyes for a moment at the possibility. They were on a roof, he too close to the shore to be able to supervise that the robbery was carried out effectively, and she took a few steps until she reached his side. The two kept looking down for a few seconds, preparing internally for what was coming; talking about feelings was never one of their strengths.

"What would that be about?”

"About who" she corrected him "This discussion with Y/N has already escalated to exacerbated levels, you didn't have to forbid her to come"

"And what did you want me to do?" he muttered, more upset than he would have liked, and he had to take a deep breath before speaking again, “She's… was impulsive and… she doesn't measure the danger she's putting herself in. She is like a child, without conscience or limits”

“We all know that, but you called her stupid. That's very different."

“I don't want her to end up killing herself,” he said, and Inej caught a hint of sincere concern tinging her friend's voice. Kaz hated seeing himself like this, but there was something about her that made him trust her with that part of him. ��Y/N acts with her heart, that's the problem. And I worry that she doesn't know how to control it. I don't want anyone to hurt her and she just doesn't cooperate” he sounded desperate, helpless, and then Inej realized how many things were being ignored by the team about the boss's decisions, apparently cruel, but quite considered in the background. It was like… acting badly for the right reasons. Or something like that.

“Well, if you really do this to safeguard her welfare, you should tell her. Because I don't think you're giving him the right message with your actions” Inej told him. Then she decided that she wasn't going to pry into the matter anymore from that point on, wishing that the conversation had been enough to make the black-haired man see reason.

He thought about it for a second and wished he could ask her more, but then he noticed that, as always, she had already vanished into the night.

Kaz tried very hard to focus on the robbery and stop thinking about you or what it would be wise to say to you, but he was having some trouble. In the next hour, to everyone's surprise in general, things went perfectly; there was no guard, just a driver who didn't resist, and they were coming back with some juicy loot. Almost too easy to be true.

Kaz didn't give much thought to the nature of the success they'd just had and they all just set off, their group spirits much better now that things were looking up.

It would be foolish to deny that Kaz had been thinking about how quickly you would have managed to carry out the robbery and also had missed the joking duo that you formed with Jesper, who now had barely looked at the blue-eyed man.

On the way he got a bit withdrawn and was mentally torturing himself about what was the right thing to do when he got home. After thinking it through, he concluded that he should take Inej’s advice and talk to you to fix things. Brekker wasn't used to apologizing, but at least he could explain things to you the way he had with the girl, so that you would understand better and hopefully forgive him for the idiotic behavior he had been displaying for the past few weeks. Although he was still upset, it was worth putting that aside to try.

After going to the club to save the cash they went back to The Slat and when he stood in front of your door he never thought to feel more nervous in life, while he started to ask himself if that was a good idea. Maybe he should just let time wash away your bad face and carry on as before... but he was also aware that that wouldn't happen.

He hesitated for a long time about whether to knock on your door or not, but after a few minutes he finally did and was frustrated when no one answered, despite a strip of light coming through the door grate.

"Y/N, I know you’re there" he tried, but there was no response. Kaz ran a gloved hand through his hair and exhaled in frustration. "Fine, don't talk to me if you want, but that's not going to stop me from coming to tell you what I came to say," he muttered determinedly. Even trying to communicate assertively, he couldn't help but sound rude. “I didn't mean to yell at you like that when we got back from the heist, I just didn't know what else to do. And today I asked you to stay here because it could be dangerous and I'm trying to take care of you because apparently you don't give a damn about your own life, not because I hate you or because I'm upset with you. It's just that…” he was having a hard time talking, so he had to take a deep breath to collect himself a little “I worry about you. And I want you to be okay. Safe"

Kaz was silent, waiting for you to say something, but again there was nothing. He felt so foolish and embarrassed that he even thought his eyes were going to glaze over with helplessness. He was trying his best to go there, but you didn't seem to care, and honestly, he didn't blame you.

His gaze lowered to the floor, the pressing sensation of rejection flooding his chest, and only then did he notice the glow emanating from a section of the floor. With difficulty he knelt to take the substance with his fingers and his glove was stained with a fine powder that gave off an iridescent glow, which until that moment he had not realized he was scattered over various sections of the corridor. And next to that dust, there was a bloodstain.

Kaz didn't even wait for a second to lunge at your bedroom door and yank it open, which he hadn't done before out of respect for your privacy, only to realize that everything in there was turned upside down. There were remains of a smashed nightstand, books scattered on the floor, the bed in disarray, and sporadic stains of blood that he prayed weren't yours. The window was wide open and the white curtain billowed violently in the night air.

Someone had broken into your room and it wasn't hard to put the pieces together to find out what they had broken into. Someone had kidnapped you.

His eyes traveled all over the place looking for something that would give him clues and he decided to start rummaging through the books hoping to find a note, the amount for your ransom, whatever. When he read ‘We're even, Brekker’ written on yellowed paper and signed with the seal of a snake, he felt that his balance was missing.

That's why the robbery of the carriage had been so easy, because they had wanted it that way. Their plan was always to enter The Slat. You were there, alone, and they kidnapped you because Kaz had allowed it. Because in his eagerness to protect you, he had delivered you directly to the enemy.

It was all his fault.

"Jesper!" he screamed, on first impulse. He didn't know if it was difficult for him to get up from the floor due to dizziness or because of the limp “Inej! Wylan! Whoever!" he continued, wanting to get the attention of anyone who could help him. He was in a panic and he was also furious. He would be capable of torturing the men who had kidnapped you in the most horrible ways ever seen, as soon as he found out who they were.

All the people present in the building followed the sound of the boss's wailing and when they observed the state of your room a collective sigh of surprise filled the silence.

"Where is Y/N?"

“I don't know,” Kaz hissed, sounding desperate. That didn't even matter to him anymore "They took her, they set us up"

“We have to find her,” Matthias muttered, and he wanted to hit him for saying something so obvious. But he had to calm down, for everyone's sake.

"There's blood and this in the hallway," said the black-haired man, showing everyone the dust that still glittered on his glove.

"It's a trail," Wylan exclaimed, his features lighting up like when he had an idea. He stepped forward to analyze the sample and then nodded. “I gave this to her, it's a bioluminescent powder we were experimenting with. In theory, when…" he walked around the room as if looking for something until he found a box of matches that you had lying around "it comes into contact with the fire, it emits a blue flame" he explained, going into the corridor and demonstrating the information practically.

There was hope, if they hadn't taken you too far your friends might track you down and rescue you. You had been scared enough to leave a clue because you knew they would look for you.

In that moment Kaz felt so guilty that he had ever even suggested that he doubted your abilities.

“You have to follow it. We have to find where they took her right now” he ordered and, of course, no one argued. Everyone went ahead to get the necessary things to look for you and Kaz leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing slowly in an attempt to contain one of those panic attacks he sometimes felt, not imagining that this would only be the beginning of an awful night. 

And the worst wasn’t over yet.

The crows moved faster and more efficiently than ever before, and within minutes Wylan had figured out how to follow the trail. Sometimes there were long lines through the streets that were lit with a single match, but other times they had to look for them more carefully and that consumed time that Kaz considered vital. Although he wasn't saying anything the others could tell that he was quite upset by the situation, so they did their best. Also, you were part of the group, so they too were extremely worried.

By the time they reached Fifth Harbor, Kaz was already burning all the way down his leg, but that didn't matter to him. They were all out of breath, but that didn't matter. And the trail ended right at the pier, but that didn't matter because they saw in the distance a boat with two robust men, one of them holding a lamp and the other struggling with a girl tied by her hands and legs who was screaming in despair.

It was you and you were yelling Kaz's name.

They rushed to find a boat tied to the dock big enough for the six of them and when, luckily, they found it they jumped on it. Matthias and Jesper were in charge of rowing and the movement did not go unnoticed by the men who had you captured, nor by you.

A feeling of relief swept through you as you realized that the silhouettes approaching you were your friends and you felt that all was not lost. Kaz thought that they had arrived just in time and that calmed him down for a second, but he didn't count on the fact that the man would lift you off the ground and, with a sharp gesture that surprised everyone, he would throw you straight into the sea.

Your cry was drowned out by the roar of the water and the black-haired man's breath caught, while everything around him was spinning again. Until then he realized the position he was in: in the middle of the immensity of the sea, in danger of drowning. It was then that the memories of his brother's body came back to him like needles sticking in and he felt like he might vomit.

Kaz didn't know how to swim and even if he had known how to at some point in his life it was now impossible due to his limping leg. But he wasn't going to let you die. He can’t.

In the midst of the attack, he was dimly aware of what was happening. You were now within safe distance of the other boat which allowed Inej to throw a knife at one of the men and Jesper took it upon himself to put a bullet into the other. In hindsight, Kaz would have wished they had stayed alive so he could take it upon himself to give them a slow and painful death. There was no point in letting the men who had kidnapped you die so mercifully.

The water was dark and they couldn't see anything, but still Matthias was the one who ventured below the surface to find your body, hoping that when he did it wouldn't be too late.

Nina kept her hands up to monitor the beating of both your hearts and the rest stood without saying anything, looking expectantly out at the water that rolled in small waves. Only Kaz's erratic breathing broke the silence of the environment.

A few seconds passed, and when there was no sign of him or you, concern gripped the group. Now there wasn’t only the fear that you wouldn't get out of the water, but also that Matthias wouldn't and thus lose two members of the group. Nina winced when she heard one of the heartbeats slowed down considerably, though she didn't comment on it to the others.

When he finally surfaced everyone was relieved to see that he wasn't alone, even if your body was just an unconscious bundle that he was pulling with difficulty.

They still put you in the canoe and you had your limbs tied with rope, so Inej was in charge of cutting them with a knife, while the others crowded around you to try to see how you were.

“She's not breathing,” Matthias gasped. Nina knelt to try to expel the water from your lungs, but for some reason your body was resisting. If she didn't get the water out of your lungs, the lack of oxygen would permanently affect your brain.

"This isn't working," she snorted after several hand movements.

It was only then that Kaz dared to look at you. You were pale, wet, and a trickle of blood was coming from your forehead and you had some bruises. He never thought that he would feel the same pain that he seized when he traveled to the coast with the lifeless body of his brother.

Wake up, he wanted to tell you, but his voice wouldn't come out. You have to wake up.

Nina kept trying and until he finally saw you jump up to vomit up the salt water, he too felt like he could breathe again.

When you finally finished inhaling the air around you everyone bombarded you with questions to check your well-being and you just nodded to them all, a little dazed and scared. Nina took it upon herself to help with the cut and bruises, while the men took up the oars again to reach the dock.

Kaz was the last to get off the boat and he was also the last to enter The Slat, as if he needed to check that the rest of you had done it, since he didn't want to leave anyone behind again. Never.

“Let me accompany you,” he said. It was the first thing he had said to you after the incident and you were so exhausted that you didn't offer any resistance. When you walked up the stairs and into your room, you thought Kaz would leave without another word, but instead he stood in front of the door.

You looked at him with a neutral expression, trying to understand what he was trying to do.

"You were very intelligent" he began to say "When you left the trail"

"Thank you," you said quietly. Your throat was a bit sore from the water you had swallowed.

"How it happened?" he asked. The trip had made you recover a bit and you were calmer than before, so you didn't mind telling him things.

“They were supposed to be looking for your office, but they saw my light on and thought it would be a better idea to go after the helpless damsel. They got in through the window and… voila,” you said bitterly, gesturing with one hand at the mess around you. “They held me here and tied me to a chair, but the knots were so painful I got free in a few minutes. They interrogated me to ask about things of value or obtain some information, but I didn't say anything. My fighting could irritate them, but I think I really pissed them off when I smashed a vase over the head of one and plunged a knife into the other's leg. Maybe that's why they decided to throw me into the sea”

Kaz was a bit dismayed at how calmly you said things and he wondered if you really didn't care or were just pretending. Although he wanted to say the same things to you that he had said to your empty room a few hours ago, the truth was that remembering it made him feel ashamed. It had been a sincere apology, but he didn't think he could say it twice.

"I'm sorry I put you in danger," he said, stepping forward for more privacy. He watched your reaction to what he said and what he did, hoping that if you were still upset you would show it. But the near-death experience seemed to soften both of you.

"Why apologize? you didn't send those guys. It was just some… being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened to anyone."

“I know, but maybe if I hadn't asked you to stay here, they wouldn't have hurt you” he admitted and although you wanted to recriminate him for that, you decided to remain silent, feeling curious as to how far he could go with that talk "And if you don't… if you hadn't been smart right now you wouldn't be here”

"But I am" you answered with determination "And that's what hurts me, Kaz, that you doubt me" you expressed. You weren't going to forget so easily what had made you walk away in the first place and you thought it was the right time for him to know what you thought about it “I made a mistake, it's true and I take responsibility for that. But you didn't have to treat me like this."

"I know that too," he hastened to say, "I don't doubt you, I never have."

“It is not noticeable. Today you pushed me aside and you told us that trust is always the most important thing. And although I was stupid, I consider that this behavior is not worthy of making you stop trusting me just like that. You know I didn't do it to screw you over, I just wanted to save her."

“It's not about that woman, I don't care about her. You know that I too would have prevented her from getting hurt if the situation arose."

“Then what is it about? Is it only the mistake of the century if I make it?”

“This is about you, Y/N” Kaz said, pointing at you with his open palm and starting to sound desperate “I got so mad because you were the one who ended up in the hands of the enemy. I hate that you act like that because I care about you too much to allow myself to lose you”

You didn't expect that and he didn't expect to say it either. It was even more embarrassing than what he had refused to tell you in the first place.

He said that he didn't want to lose you and you thought about the meaning of that expression: did he not want to lose what you brought to the team or did he not want to lose your person?

"These weeks I thought you only hated me because I made you lose money"

"Oh, I do hate you a little for that," he said, taking a surprise "Not for the money itself, but for what that money implied" there was no point in keeping secrets, if Kaz had already started to sink then he preferred to do it completely and with dignity “The club is going through some difficulties, Y/N. I sold those things so I could keep it going. Because while our criminal jobs give us some kruge, you know that the main source of income for that group is the Crow Club. Also…” he felt his breath shake and had to take a moment to calm down “I've been thinking about something these past few months. A long time ago you said that you had always wanted to go to university, do you remember?” he asked you and you nodded your head “Jesper had the opportunity, but he is a lost cause, because he prefers this kind of life to having an office job or a quiet home and I respect that. But not you, you ended up here because you had no other options” Kaz was silent, hoping that if you had something to say you would say it now, but then he continued, “And I thought if I gave you some money you would have that opportunity. That way I could get you away from all these Dregs and you'd live the way you wanted. That's why that robbery was important”

You were totally stunned.

You never expected Kaz to have that opinion of you or even care about you to the degree that he had just confessed to you. He had listened to you, had seen beyond the apparent happiness of living in The Barrel to find your true dreams, so forgotten within yourself that you no longer thought you could reveal them to anyone else.

You mistakenly believed that the only thing that mattered to Kaz Brekker was dying suffocated by piles of money, but you had just realized that the true engine of life of the black-haired man was the love he had for that peculiar family that you made up.

“You… you know that's not necessary, right? You don’t have to do it"

"But I wanted"

The gap was less since Kaz had walked towards you and you decided, venturing a bit, to take another step towards him.

"Why didn't you tell us that the club has financial problems?" you asked softly, because you thought there could be no other way to talk to him in a situation like this.

"Because it wasn't important"

"Yes, it is, Kaz" you walked in his direction again. At that distance, if you raised your hand a little, he could reach to take hers "That's the point, you decide to swallow all the problems without talking to anyone and then we have no idea what ails you or why this or that is so important. Jesus, if you had told me that money was so vital, I would have put my life into opening that vault as quickly as possible” it was at that moment that you really regretted what you had done and thought that, if possible, you would have returned in time to listen to him and not just your instincts.

"It does not matter anymore. I can't spend my life telling you all the bad things that happen around here."

“You should do it, Kaz. We are a group and we can't just enjoy the rewards without knowing the sacrifice, stop burdening yourself with that alone” he warned seriously “You take care of all of us, but then who takes care of you?”

His reaction was the same as you had a moment ago: stupefaction. Kaz didn't know at what point in his life he had to become that, but he thought that perhaps Jordie's death was decisive for him to have to fulfill the role of the person he had just lost. To be for others what no one had been for him, so they would not suffer what he had suffered. It was quite an altruistic act if he thought better of it.

But after so many years it was exhausting and he wished he could just fall into someone else's arms to rest, figuratively speaking. And there you were right in front of him, probably the person he loved the most, with an expression that reflected a willingness to listen to what he had to say.

So Kaz thought that, maybe for once, it was okay for him to be vulnerable.

“I had an older brother” he murmured, after a long while and you were a bit confused by the sudden change of subject, but you nodded your head so he knew you were listening “He died during the plague epidemic. And miss him so much"

You knew little, if anything, of the personal life of the man in front of you, so you didn't know how to react to the disclosure of that fact. You imagined a little Kaz, scared and sad because his brother was gone. You didn't think for a second about the horrible things he had to go through and that he, with some luck, would dare to tell you later.

But even with this paltry piece of information you couldn't help but feel enormous compassion. He was human, like everyone else, and he was afraid that death would come to take another person important to him. Now you understood better.

"What was his name?" you asked in a whisper, as gently as possible. Kaz was silent for a moment, reflecting no sentiment, then swallowed.

"Jordie"

You weren't going to ask him any more questions after that, you just looked into his eyes and you knew that this was his way of telling you that he trusted you to keep that shred of his past.

"Well, I think Jordie would be happy to know that now there are six of us who love you as he did" was what you replied. You didn't know if it was the answer he expected, but at least it was the one that had come from your heart. When he looked at you, you swore that his eyes were teary, although later you convinced yourself that it had only been an effect of the light.

"I hope we're fine now" he murmured, regaining his composure, referring to the problems that had existed between you after that discussion.

"Calm down, everything is fine. I know you can't live without me."

"Actually, I've had enough of Jesper seeing me with those murder-eyes."

"Then you noticed," you joked. You were completely exhausted and at that moment you were even more conscious, as if you were going to pass out the next second “Everything is fine” you repeated “I just hope this doesn't happen again. I… will try to be less impulsive. And you have to tell me if something's wrong and we'll figure it out, okay?"

Kaz hummed back and you put on a tight-lipped smile. Then you looked around you to analyze the chaos that had been left by the fight with those men, feeling exhausted just thinking that you would have to pick up the pieces of wood, the books, or clean the stains, and he realized what you were thinking by the look on your face.

“I'll send someone to clean all this up tomorrow, I promise. For now, you just… lie down”

"For the first time, I'm not going to argue with you," you laughed bitterly. Then a yawn invaded you and you felt your eyelids tremendously heavy, which he perceived. Kaz didn't want to leave there, even if you were on the verge of exhaustion, however, he didn't know what excuse to use to stay “Good night, Kaz. You should rest too"

"Yeah, um... I'll do it"

“Good”

There was silence for a few seconds. 

"Have you really forgiven me?" he asked, looking to make sure you weren't upset anymore. You smiled and, amid your delirium from exhaustion, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. He paled and held his breath, but you didn't notice.

“As much as you have forgiven me for screwing up the mission. Now go and sleep"

Perhaps it was the shock of receiving something like this from you that caused Kaz to practically run out of your room, without even saying goodbye, staying in the hallway for a moment to process things. The speed of the contact hadn't given him time to panic, but that didn't stop him from feeling the pumping of his heart hammering like crazy under his chest and hot cheeks under the memory of your lips on them.

When he locked himself in his room he tried to calm down, when he was taking off his clothes to put on his pajamas he tried again, washing his hands and face, going through paperwork before going to sleep, lying down on the bed, closing the eyes... but nothing worked.

And eventually he fell asleep with the ghost of your kiss haunting him through dreams.

[dazeddoodles]

I am drunk and i come to you with a request, plz give me something alador x darius please i need it no ones written a fic in ages and im too lazy to finish my own just give me something you are my last hope 😭😭😭 /J

Unfortunately, I can't draw anything new right now but I have some headcanons.

I've seen people portray Darius as the flirty one but realistically I don't think as adults he would be attempting to flirt with Alador, unless maybe it's after they get together.

As teenagers, I can see Darius "jokingly" flirting with Alador or just unintentionally getting him flustered (Amity gets her tomato face from her dad after all). Since they were best friends back then Darius was more open about liking Alador, though (seemingly) platonically at the time.

As adults however Darius keeps up the act of not liking Alador. (If you notice in the show DARIUS is the one who keeps starting shit between them). Even after Belos's defeat, I think they'd have to start talking again to work together but Darius would still act hostile towards Alador to avoid showing he still cares about him. Now Darius would be the one constantly getting flustered over little things like we saw in the finale. Meanwhile, Alador remains oblivious.

Darius genuinely cares about Alador's well-being but tries to hide it. Saying stuff like how Alador needs to not overwork himself and take breaks and then follows it up with "You need to set a good example for your kids. If you can't even take care of yourself, how are you gonna take care of them?" as a cover-up. Although said cover-up actually does make Alador try to take care of himself.

Darius would also be constantly reminding him to eat. I've seen people point out it looks like Alador has a dad bod in the epilogue, he'd eating healthier which is what led to the weight gain.

At the start, Alador would keep reverting back to his old ways of overworking and not taking breaks before having to be reminded by Darius again. Although Alador initially listens to him just to set a good example for his kids, eventually he genuinely doesn't want to "disappoint" Darius.

I imagine an instance where when Darius asks him if he's eaten yet and the answer is no, Alador starts to get a bit embarrassed about it. Meanwhile, Darius is thinking "Is he... blushing??? I didn't know he could feel shame." lol.

Alador isn't good at expressing himself either, specifically, he's not very good with his words which often leads to him unintentionally offending Darius. He often shows affection through acts of service which can also lead him to overwork himself. Especially after being married to Odalia which made him think that working to prove your love was normal in a relationship.

I had an idea once that after they get together when Alador comes back from work with sore shoulders/back, Darius would offer to rub them for him. Alador's not used to having a partner that cares more about him than the work he can do for them.

I can go either way if they're together in the epilogue. I think it would take a while (years?) for them to get into a relationship after being on bad terms for years. But they COULD be together at that point and Darius was just embarrassed about freaking out like that. Alador had the mini Abomination in his pocket after all 🤔

[mrsoftthoughts]

Guess who mess up things with a spell and turned himself into a ferret? Yes, it was alabaster

The other day i posted a drawing based on @yonemurishiroku idea of a WolfboyJason au, and later talking with @drksanctuary a silly Nicobaster idea was born

In which alabaster accidentally turned himself into a ferret, and since that all of Al's notes are written down in a absurd mix of accient Greek, modern Greek and Latin, makes impossible for claymore to understand anything of what is written there, So he sees himself forced to call Nico, the only other demigod that they know because years before he Maybe tried to take claymore back to the underworld ( but that's a history for other day)

That for the horror of a alabaster with a immense crush on the son of hades, because in the form of a animal any kind of discretion or shame was thrown out of the window and he end up being the clingiest thing in this world when he had been trying to avoid nico for the past few months just for this to happen

Needless to say, al was a bit too dramatic about it after almost sell his soul to swear that he being clingy didn't mean anything ↓

Al: why of all people you had to call HIM?!

Claymore: i told you to be careful with whatever thing you were doing because i don't know actual greek, even less greek that was used milenia ago, and that's the language you have everything that could bring you back to normal kid, what i was supposed to do?

Al: right but..I

Claymore: you wanted, perhaps, for me to call the abundance of other demigod friends you have?

Al: I dunno! My mom?

Claymore: *shakes his head*

*Hecate appears from the absolute nothing*: Howard did tried to contact me, i just didn't answer, i knew that Nico di Angelo was the plan B, and the little prince is such a educated and polite gentleman, is the dream for any mother to have as son in law! and you just keep wasting any opportunity you have with him

Al: Mother...

Hecate: you're in love! I'm just trying to help

Al: you're just embarrassing me! there's no fucking way that he would like me back, the last thing that i need is that he discovers this

(Poor little did he knew that nico also likes him)

[vladdyissues]

It's so cute that you uploaded some puffy, you're so kind 😭💞

But I have a question, why did they even block his account? How does Tumblr block an account? He didn't upload anything bad [?]

To the best of my knowledge—and I say this because I did not see every single one of Puffy's posts—Puffy did everything that Tumblr requires when it comes to posting "mature" artwork. She tagged her posts, used Community Labels, cropped and/or censored thumbnails, and made use of the "Read More" option. She was bolder than me when it came to posting certain art styles and speaking unabashedly, but that's a difference in personality. Puffy is a free spirit, incredibly witty, and absolutely hilarious. I'm old and crotchety and try to avoid drama if I can help it—not to say that Puffy in any way invited or deserved termination. She did not.

But she was no match for a targeted mass-reporting campaign. And, unfortunately, there's no way to know just how many people were involved or how much harassment she's been receiving since she joined Tumblr. I know there were at least three asks, likely more, and one rude comment left on one of her artworks early on.

But Tumblr has a poor track record when it comes to making decisions and meting out justice. They don't typically perform thorough investigations, they panic when they see certain words, and they're also prone to outrageous hypocrisy—like the fact that gifs of graphic, live-action porn somehow still manage to survive on this site after 10 years and a purge that cost the company a billion dollars in value, and how they claim to be "the queerest place on the internet" while simultaneously alienating and fostering a hostile environment for the queer artists who are largely responsible for Tumblr's success. Porn and spam bots run amok, but the blogs of marginalized people and artists are first on the chopping block.

I myself have had blogs deleted for lesser reasons. A couple years ago I created a "ship week" event blog, which was deleted simply because at one point in the TV show, one of the characters in the ship was a minor. The blog posted G-rated prompts. It was text-based with completely worksafe header graphics. It didn't endorse any age ranges, but left that up to the discrimination of the participants. The participants complied with Tumblr's TOS if they posted 18+ content, cropping images, using Community Labels and such. Everything adhered strictly to Tumblr's guidelines.

But I was the target for a lot of hatred from the rest of the fandom. They hated my guts because I shipped "the wrong ship"—because it was a gay ship, because it upset the canon heterosexual ship that one of the characters was in, because I wasn't sniveling in fear whenever they sent me hateful asks, because I refused to be bullied or shamed. They went after us because we were a tiny group of fans, easy to target and eradicate. Disgusting behavior, really.

I tried to appeal the deletion, but I never heard back from Tumblr. Fine. I moved the event to another platform (and it looked much better there, too), and that was that.

In short, Tumblr would rather delete a hundred innocent blogs out of fear of offending their ad sponsors rather than 1) investigate the claims made against the blog, or 2) give the blog owner a chance to delete the offending content.

One final thing:

Last month, around 17 June 2024, several Pompep fans on Tumblr received anywhere between 1-3 anonymous asks telling us to kill ourselves or "get raped".

Over cartoon characters.

It's a sad state of things when there's more sympathy, respect and agency given to drawings of fictional lines than living, breathing people.

[h2g2-gift-exchange]

Welcome to the second year of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy gift exchange, for 2023!

Quick QnA below.

Q. What is this?

A. This is a holiday gift exchange for the H2G2 fandom, you make a fanwork for someone and someone else makes one for you.

Q. What kind of gifts can I make?

A. Anything that’s created by you and related to H2G2! Whether that be a drawing, fanfic, music video, plush or anything. The only rule is it must have your own time and effort put into it, which means no purely AI generated works or otherwise something you didn't make yourself.

Q. What’s the deadline for signing up?

A. The last day to sign up will be Sunday, November 19th.

Q. When will I know who I’m making a gift for?

A. Ideally everyone will receive their prompts a day or two after the application closes. This is a small fandom but all the pairings still have to be checked for compatibility so please allow a few days. Also remember to enable submissions on your blog to receive your prompt! You’ll be notified via dm if you have them closed.

Q. When can I post my gift?

A. You may post your gift any time between December 24th and January 1st but please don’t post it before then.

Q. What if I need to drop out?

A. There’s no shame in dropping out if you can’t complete your gift! Just please let me know so I can quickly assign a pinch-hitter. You may also ask for an extension, mostly I just want to make sure you haven’t forgotten.

[huevinart]

Thanks for the support in the survey, it's been a long time since I've written anything, I'll try to accompany each chapter with a drawing, but for now I'll leave you with the sexy one from Syzoth 💚

Brief summary: A young woman in search of answers, tries to cope with her life until she is chosen to represent the earth in a tournament, without knowing that in reality this was the beginning of recovering her true destiny and perhaps a old love ...

Syzoth x Y/n

Warning: since it was created for my Oc's I put his name and his description between: [] instead of putting Y/n

Y/n = [Violette]

Chapter 1

Who are you?

Everything was confusing, I had just woken up in a cell, the smell of blood and putrefaction filled my nostrils. I could quickly see Baraka trying to force those bars that separated us from our freedom. "Kenshi!" I screamed and headed towards him, my head hurt, the mask that covered my face was suffocating me, I hadn't noticed that Johnny was putting an ointment on Kenshi's eyes using a bandage, I only noticed his sigh of relief.

“You finally took off that mask, it's a shame I can't see you” was the only thing he said to me when he felt my hand taking his. My confusion was such that I didn't even notice the jailer, until anger took control of me once again, my priority was to get my friend out of there. “You are from Zaterra”, Zaterra? That place, my memory, knew what it was, its inhabitants, that was when I saw it, that was when my memory played tricks on me again.

Shang Tsung appeared and ordered the now man to release his creations so that they could kill us and continue with his experiments, and then disappear. He wanted to hate the jailer, but he did it for his family, despite my confused memory and my headache did not let me think clearly, small details were overlooked, fight, fight, fight!

“Behind my princess,” said Baraka, princess? What the hell was going on here?

Kung Lao, my best friend for the last 10 years, looked at me in disbelief as he killed those monsters, Tarkatans modified and tortured body and soul by that sorcerer. "You owe me an explanation, 'princess', and I hope you don't lie to me this time."

That? What was he talking about? YO...

It didn't matter, I continued fighting although the great victory was for Baraka, even against the Zaterrano, it was admirable despite his illness, I admit that seeing that man begging for his death to free his family from suffering, I would not have doubted it, I I would kill with one hit, but that former merchant taught me a lesson.

Not even ten seconds passed before the witcher returned, not only insulting that man, who despite everything, his purpose was noble, but also revealing that several moons ago his family had perished at his hands. . . Wait a second, now I remember, that phrase, ten years ago...

“Oh princess, many moons ago your death was written, don't worry, you will join your father”, after that everything was erased from my mind, who the hell was I? No, now I remember.

“Damn, I remember you! You will pay!"

“Oh, so you finally remember me, princess, it's a shame, Chameleon's efforts were in vain since you will die,” the witcher noted before disappearing into that toxic cloud…

A tear escaped my eyes when I heard that name, it was ten years ago.

*10 years ago*

“You finally woke up, do you remember anything? [Violet]"

A sweet old lady was looking at me and healing my head wound, she didn't remember anything, not even that name, I didn't know who she was.

“Don't you recognize your grandmother? "I told you to be careful, but you never listen to me."

Grandmother? I didn't question anything, since at that moment, ironically she was the only one I should trust, why would she lie to me? Somewhat dizzy I got up without knowing where I was, he helped me and laughed, he told me that I looked drunk, he showed me the whole house, emphasizing that I have lived there for many years and that since the death of my parents I had returned to his side. I noticed something strange, her oriental features were not like mine, I simply stood in front of the mirror [my eyes were blue like the sky, my long straight black hair covered my eyes, for a teenager I looked very 'developed', but my skin, white as paper, scared me with so much paleness.]

"Madame Bo!" That's the old lady's name, my grandmother, I didn't even remember that. I saw two young men come in, she attended to them and scolded them for being late for their training. Her eyes quickly focused on me, "Guys, this is my granddaughter." "Come [Violette], I'll come over and introduce you to them," I walked towards them until I stopped dead when I felt one of them say to me, "Did you have children?" , you married!!" And the other boy nudged him lightly to call him to order, he made me laugh, it sounded so familiar.

She “she had an accident and she lost her memory, luckily she is stubborn.”

"I have the pleasure of meeting you..."

“I'm Raiden and this is Kung Lao,” she interrupted me abruptly but with innocence and nervousness.

That name echoed in my head and a blurry and painful image took over my mind, Kung Lao? As soon as I heard that name I saw myself lying on the ground, in the middle of a fight? I didn't give it any importance although it seems to scare them...

"Are you OK?" Raiden added to which I smiled affirmatively at his question. "Then let's train."

Kung Lao added, and for an instant emotion took over me, I had just woken up, not even two hours had passed, and I was stupid enough not to question anything.

As the days went by, Mrs. Bo told me stories about my supposed parents and my supposed past, and as the years went by I repeated it with love and nostalgia.

“You should dress in a different color, you're scary.”

"Shut your mouth, Kung Lao, or I swear I'll beat you up," I smiled arrogantly.

“Again,” Raiden mentions with a laugh, referring to the countless times I made that conceited man eat dust.

"Gothic"

“Virgin” we shout to each other, until we hear the voice of maturity “they look like little children.”

"I'm sorry Raiden, it won't happen again."

“I will make you believe [Vi]”

5 years, 5 years passed! I already felt part of them, I was born among them, if that's how it is... I shouldn't question, just obey, learn, live. I wonder, what twists in life will fate bring me?

[svuobsessed]

Can I request something for Casey! Some fluff and maybe helping fem reader with her depression, maybe she’s having a downer day and Casey is the only one who can make her feel better, get her to open up

Casey Novak X Depressed Teen Reader

My first request! Thank you!

Request: Can I request something for Casey! Some fluff and maybe helping fem reader with her depression, maybe she’s having a downer day and Casey is the only one who can make her feel better, get her to open up.

Third person pov...

As the sun rose over the New York City skyline, sixteen-year-old Y/N sat alone in her room, staring at the ceiling. She had been struggling with depression for months now and today was one of her darker days.

She had no motivation to get out of bed, no desire to face the world outside. As she lay there, feeling lost and alone, she had been sexually assaulted a couple months ago and was trying to get through it.

As she sat she thought of Casey Novak the ADA who helped her get justice and put her attacker into prison where he was staying for a long time.

That thought should make her happy, but instead she didn't she only felt empty. Then she rememberd that she had the Detective who worked on her case had given her a card with her number on.

Rummaging through her draw she found her card. 'Detective Benson' sighing she called the number. "Benson" came a familiar voice.

Hours later...

Casey received a call from Detective Olivia Benson, her close friend and colleague. Olivia informed her that there was a young teenager at (address name) who had requested to speak with her specifically. With a curious frown, Casey made her way to the apartment Olivia told her.

The red haired woman remembered the traumatized teenager, Y/N hadn't wanted to tell them who assaulted her, she was scared to tell them, but after a few days Y/N came forward and told them who it was.

The young teen had easily bonded with both Casey and Olivia Benson, after the case Casey thought about the H/C girl often.

It was usual that she felt such a connection with a victim but the teen made her want to keep in contact.

When Casey arrived at the L/N family apartment, she was greeted by Y/N Mother, the woman was surprised to see her of course.

"Hi Mrs L/N, I'm Casey Novak. I was wondering if I could talk to your daughter Y/N?" She asked the woman, recognition shined in her eyes before she stepped aside and Casey walked in.

"Y/Ns room is the last door on the right"  she smiled at the prosecutor. When she knocked on Y/Ns door a shy and withdrawn teenager greeted her.

Y/Ns H/C hair was unkempt, her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, Y/N self consciously rubbed under her eyes, she wore baggy clothes that seemed to swallow her petite frame.

But despite her appearance, Casey could see the strength and resilience in the young teens eyes.

"Hi Y/N, i dont know if you remember me, but im Casey" she introduced herself, offering a gentle smile, she watched as Y/Ns eyes widened in recognition and she nodded, but she didn't say anything.

Casey could see that Y/N was shutting herself off, fear and shame controlling her actions.

"We can take it slow, if you want. There's no rush. I just want to help you in any way I can" Casey assured her, choosing her words carefully.

Y/n looked at Casey for a few moments, and then without warning, she burst into tears. Casey quickly pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back and offering her a comforting presence.

The young teenager cried for what seemed like hours, and all the while, Casey stayed by her side, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement.

As Y/N slowly calmed down, Casey handed her a box of tissues and sat down next to her on Y/N unkempt bed.

She knew that sometimes, all a person needed was someone to listen to them, to make them feel heard and understood. And that's exactly what Casey did.

For a couple minutes the two sat in Y/Ns room, the teen fiddling with her hands waiting for one of them to break the silence, Casey was the one to speak.

"What happened to you was not your fault. You are not alone, and you don't have to go through this alone" Casey said, her voice full of empathy.

Keeping her tears at bay Y/N fianlly opened up to the prosecutor.

As the H/C teen opened up to Casey about the assault, her struggles with depression, and the constant fear she lived with, Casey listened with patience and empathy.

She shared her own experiences of working with survivors and assured Y/N that she was not alone in her fight.

With Casey's help, the traumatized teen slowly began to open up more and more. They spent the entire day together, and by the end of it, Y/N was becoming herself once again.

The heaviness in her heart seemed to lift, and for the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful for the future.

As they sat in Y/N bedroom, drinks in hand, courtesy of Y/N mum, Y/N held Caseys hand in her own a genuine smile on her face.

Big E/C eyes looked into her. "Thank you, Casey. I don't know what I would have done without you" Y/N finally spoke up, her voice filled with gratitude.

Feeling herselfgetting choked up at her words, Case smiled and held her hand. "I'll always be here for you, Y/N And if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out" Casey replied, her eyes shining with sincerity.

After saying good bye and leaving y/N her card, Casey left the L/N apartment late that night, she couldn't help but feel fulfilled.

Being able to help someone in need was the best feeling in the world for her, and she knew that Y/Ns road to recovery wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to be there for her every step of the way.

From that day on, Casey and Y/N developed a strong bond. Every time

Y/N had a downer day, or she felt overwhelmed with what happend to her she knew she could count on Casey to make her feel better and help her get through it.

The end!

Hoped you liked this oneshot, sorry for not updating for a while haven't been well these last few days so here I am writing this because I feel better finally.

As usual sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request page is open!

Word count: 1120

[thatonecrookedsmile]

You know, one thing I don't like when I digitally color sketches is that the colors end up looking a little desaturated because of the paper. It doesn't look bad, I guess, but I have to eventually find a way to "fix" it eventually.

Anyway, today marks 6 years since BATIM Chapter 4 was released. Damn. I know I say something similar every time I recognize the passage of time, but it's hard to believe that it's been more than half a decade since this chapter came out. Time passes, I get older, it's crazy! And I wanted to do something to celebrate. I've never been able to do anything to celebrate this chapter's anniversary since 2019. Which is a shame because "Colossal Wonders" is my favorite chapter in BATIM. Some of my favorite moments from this game are in this chapter.

And every year I try to do something to celebrate the anniversary, but I never manage to do it and it sucks! And as usual, what I really wanted to do this year didn't end up happening. I'll probably do it at some point later, but there was no way I could execute the idea I had in mind in such a short amount of time. But I still wanted to post something today, so something small will have to do.

In this case, oh hey! It's Bertie and Lacie! In recent times I've been going back to old designs of mine of the human cast of the Bendy universe, and since CH4's anniversary was coming up, I thought it would be good to update my designs for both Bertrum and Lacie. It's been so long since I last drew them, so it's about time. I liked the general idea of the last versions of them that I did in the past, so I tried to keep those ideas still, in a way, but at the same time giving them new life. Lacie falls more in this case, tbh. Bert still maintains some of the previous idea, but I had to change a few details. He still looks good, tho.

I originally wanted to put Jack Fain here too, because,by all accounts, Jack Fain only came into existence with the release of CH4 and the remasters of the other chapters. As much as you can put him on CH2's anniversary,he, at the end of the day, was only introduced on April 30, 2018. Problem is, I didn't like the drawing I made of him. I don't know, it wasn't that good in my opinion. And I didn't want to redo the drawing again (this would be my third attempt) and I wouldn't have enough time to redo his part. So today we'll just have Bernie and Lacie. Sorry Jack. Maybe next time, when I show my CH2 cast designs in one place.

Once again, happy anniversary to Chapter 4! This is my favorite chapter of the game to date. It includes some of my favorites from the story, it has several surprises that caught me the first time I saw the chapter, it brought new updates to previous chapters that added things that I still like to this day (and this goes especially for CH2) And overall, it's a pretty cool chapter me thinks. 👍

That one day we can hear more from Bertrum and Lacie again.🙏 (Especially Lacie. Seriously, don't you guys think it's wild that Lacie is the only one of the human cast of BATIM who hasn't appeared in practically anything since the first game. Like, yeah, she's mentioned in the Handbook, but other than that, she's not mentioned in nothing else after, whether in games or books. I think about this from time to time. Truly one of the Bendy characters of all time)

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday

One of the earliest parts of Meddling Mar that I wrote, albeit a moment at least two chapters away from happening in the current setup of the story. For context: after seeing his shooting skills, Damas arranged for Jak to "job shadow" some of the wall sentries to see whether that would be a good fit for him. His fourth day up there, Jak witnessed Marauders ambushing a scout returning to the city. Jak being Jak, he instinctively staged a very violent intervention without stopping to find out if anyone else was already planning a rescue. And promptly panicked because he'd just used the Dark Jak form in front of witnesses. (TW: blood mention)

"You have sage training."

How had he missed it before? How quickly his body absorbed the healing eco, how unerring his shots were-

The boy had been trained.

"No. I don't." Jak kept walking, jaw tight and shoulders tense.

As he passed Rune and Chayne at the garages, he faltered and seemed to curl inward as if avoiding their eyes. He didn't see the gratitude in Rune's face, or the admiration in Chayne's.

Damas caught up in only two strides, catching the boy by one blood-soaked wrist.

"I'm not stupid, Jak. I know what I saw. Why didn't you mention this before? Who trained you?"

"Nobody!"

Jak whipped around, blood-slick skin slipping easily from Damas’s grasp. The same fury that had decimated the party of Marauders danced in his eyes, tangled with pain.

"Nobody "trained" me; I didn't ask for this! I was chained to a table while the Baron injected dark eco into my veins, three days a week, FOR TWO YEARS!"

The second the shout left him, Jak flinched back. Damas didn't think he'd meant to say anything at all -- or at least, anything about what had been done to him.

Damas recoiled as, all at once, the needle scars made sense. Nausea rocked his stomach as he pictured Jak -- he must have been no more than thirteen or fourteen at the time -- screaming while Aldrik Praxis watched pitilessly.

He would've been a child then. Just a child.

No wonder he'd been so hesitant to discuss Haven in front of his little brother.

Damas clenched his fists at his sides, willing himself to remain calm, to keep from drawing more attention to the distraught teenager.

"I'm going to murder Praxis."

"Can't. The metalheads got him first."

So flat and matter-of-fact was Jak’s answer that it startled a blank, almost amused, stare out of Damas.

"That is...shockingly appropriate." He huffed. "I hope the body was left for carrion. It's more than he deserves, but at least he would've finally been of some use to the ecosystem. It is...disturbing to hear that he forced that transformation on you, while my spies didn't even know something like that was taking place. I will need to review their last communiques."

Damas shook his head and hoped Jak wouldn't misinterpret the disgust on his face.

"If you ever see anyone else who was involved in what happened to you -- even if you aren't fully certain it's them -- you get me immediately, understand? It will be dealt with."

He wondered if Jak could hear the promise of vengeance hiding under his words.

As if suddenly very aware of Damas’s gaze, Jak dropped his eyes and seemed almost to shrink.

"They...they didn't mutate me," he muttered darkly. Shame colored his confession, not quite well enough to cover the bitterness. "I did it. I channeled it myself. It was that or let the overdose kill me."

Damas’s startled wheeze took him by surprise. Jak looked up sharply to find Damas closer than he'd been a moment ago, staring incredulously at him.

"You- hold on," Damas ran a hand over his head. Some of the Marauders' blood from Jak's wrist smeared across his scalp and he grimaced. "You're telling me you self-taught yourself one of the lost war sage transformations?!"

One of? Lost?!

Jak furrowed his brow.

"Why'd you say that like it's been done before?"

That couldn't be right. He was a freak of nature. An aberration. Nobody would do this on purpose.

But Damas nodded.

"Because it has. Not since the first two generations of the city of Haven, when eco was plentiful enough to allow for that kind of study. But there is absolutely a precedent for war sages. Just...never this young."

And never created against their will in such cruelty- such evil-

For some reason, this didn't seem to calm Jak. There was a desperation building up over the remnants of anger in his eyes -- a sense of suffocating pressure Damas recognized only too well. He reached out again to place a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Look at me; hey, look at me. You don’t have to do it again," he soothed, "I won't make you act as a sage, I promise, Jak, I promise. But I do need to know your capabilities -- and what you need to avoid to keep you safe, mentally and physically."

"Why?" Jak croaked, "What's it matter to you as long as I can pull my weight?"

"What's it mat-?" Damas stared, then made an aggravated sigh. "Because you're one of my people, Jak! I take care of my own. Would you let Seek run around with a thorn in his foot?"

Suitably distracted by the seeming non sequitur, the boy screwed up his face in confusion. "No?? What does that have to do with-"

Damas’s fingers dug into his shoulder. He stared into Jak's eyes and did not flinch away from whatever he saw there.

"Just because your "thorn" isn't something most people can see on the surface," he said patiently, "doesn't mean I'm going to let you run around on it and drive it in deeper."

Now Jak looked uncertain, even a little lost. It was as if he had no reckoning for being treated as if his pain mattered. As if he mattered. Faced with someone who actually seemed to want to understand, what could he do? If he let any more of the poison out of the wound, would Damas still understand, or would he turn away like everyone else?

"Haven doesn't know it's a...sage thing..." Jak swallowed hard and rubbed his fingers together, trying to scrape off the blood. "They just call it a...an abomination. A monster."

The king curled his lip. "That's rich, coming from Haven."

He let go of Jak's shoulder to casually loop his arm around him.

"That city is a den of vipers, boy. If they tell you the sky is blue, they're lying."

For an instant, Jak stiffened at the unexpected -- and somewhat unorthodox -- embrace. But after a moment the touch -- and the words -- began to feel familiar.

"My friend Sig says that, too."

Unexpectedly, Damas chuckled. "Ah! I knew I recognized that style of gunning."

Jak's head whipped up. "You know Sig?"

He supposed it made sense. Sig was a Wastelander, after all.

"Know him?" Damas smirked at him. "I'm the one who sent him undercover in Haven!"

The thought wheeled through Jak's mind several times, circling closer each time. In a weird, roundabout sort of a way, that meant Damas had saved him twice. If not for Sig taking Jak under his wing, teaching him to fight and shoot, Jak strongly doubted that he would have lived long enough to fight Kor. Sig was the one making sure Jak actually ate, or slept at least an hour or two, when the Underground didn't give him a chance to rest between jobs. Sig never judged him for his transformations, always telling him "if Praxis wants to steal fire from the gods, he doesn't get to complain when you steal it right back". He didn't even know the true reason behind the dark form, but he'd guessed Praxis was at least tangentially involved.

"Sig...he um, he said he was going to train Dax and me. Teach us to be Wastelanders," Jak admitted. "But then I got a- arrested."

The word tripped him up, too filled with memories of horror and dark places.

"He doesn't do that for just anyone, you know," Damas remarked. He sounded pleased. "You two must've impressed him."

With a light pressure on Jak’s shoulders, he guided him away from the garages and towards the public baths in the North Market.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up before your brother gets out of school, hm?"

Jak still didn't really like the public baths -- even if everyone else was as scarred as he was, he hated seeing his own scars -- but it was faster than going all the way to the cove to wash. Mind still whirling, he allowed Damas to lead him to the building, all the while wondering how long this unusual streak of kind fortune would last.

Before the man could go ahead of him to the baths, Jak caught his arm and grimaced at the sticky, bloody fingerprints he left. "Don't- don't let anyone tell Ma- my brother. Please."

Damas’s eyes softened, and he nodded.

"Not a word," he agreed, trying to ignore the slip. "It isn't our story to tell."

*Mar. You almost said Mar, didn't you? I know it's him, I know my son's eyes. But. But I know your eyes, too. And I will find out why.*

[ordinaryschmuck]

And now here's a current ranking of the Modern Doctors

This is just based on the ones I've seen. I've just recently started watching the classic Doctor Who episodes and will give more of an official ranking another time....Anyways...

#13. No offense to the actress. She nailed the goofy, eccentric scientist who will fight with her last breath...but never had any good material to work with. It's a shame that she never had a good head writer, really...

#9. His appearance was off-putting, but he set out to justify both his and the revival's existence, doing FANTASTIC at it when bringing The Doctor bringing the modern era. I just wish he didn't look so...early 2000s.

#12. He started off too cynical, but really grew on me as his run went on. Peter Capaldi got to live the fan's dream, wanting to be a companion but ended up as The Doctor and having the time of his LIFE with it. He got the quips, the hilarious moments, and the speeches that made his Doctor great. I absolutely loved his final speech before the regeneration, saying the things that The Doctor and a true fan would want the next one to be...It's a shame that 13 wasn't a lot of those things, but she at least tried her best. And so did 12.

#10/14. Might as well lump these two together because they're basically the same. David Tennant's IRRADIATING charm where he could say anything and I'd be smiling. Plus, his off-the-wall maniac energy was a delight, and you can tell Tennant had the time of his life with every scene he's in, stealing the show at every opportunity. It was great to see him as Ten, it was a great surprise to have back as Fourteen, and it really is brilliant to use him as this transitional Doctor before the next guy takes over. Got to draw fans back in after five years of crap before making The Doctor Black (which some are likely already upset about for dumb reasons).

And #11. My GOODNESS, #11. He's just so...GOOFY, and I love it! Matt Smith has Tennant's enjoyment in the role turned up to eleven (ha), with him being this mad lad that brought a ton of humor but still a lot of heart and badassery. He'll leave you chills as he intimidates an enemy and leaves you laughing as he treats his bowtie as the most important thing in the universe. I couldn't get enough of him, and 11 will always be how I picture The Doctor no matter what face he takes next.

Speaking of new faces, 15 is already off to a great start. I just love how he's almost always smiling, as if he's experiencing life for the first time with new eyes and is having the time off his life with every facet of it. I can't wait to see 15 in a leading role and we get to see how well he'll do for this new age of Doctor Who. I'll be waiting with every episode, and it feels SO GOOD to finally say that again.

[offlineblues]

(this is heavily opinionated about aiyu and yuai)

hmm so... this is mostly coming from nonsense disagreement in my head, but i feel like i want to throw it here because i was thinking about it

i got kind of perplexed recently when i saw someone's opinion (in Ysk's tag) that was something like

"Ysk is aroace coded so i don't understand why people would draw him in an intimate relationship" (worded much more blamefully to the people who do draw him intimately within his various couples as though they committed a sin for doing so)

personally... i also think Ysk is asexual, so i understand where that person is coming from with that kind of opinion. but, i didn't understand shaming those who do see it as a possibility...

it's hard to say or pinpoint the exact moment in time when he may feel vulnerable or open enough for that kind of thing... but, likely it's very much a post-canon deal. though, considering he's never experienced a romantic relationship, i can't imagine he'd automatically be averse to that kind of relationship or experience (in the way that he would never want to experience it with a romantic partner) just because of trauma reasons... trauma can be recovered from with someone you love, little by little

i don't know. coupling is partly a delusion (even with as much semi-canon evidence something like aiyu or yuai has) and i'm definitely someone who wants him to have a growing relationship over time with Aichan, so it just felt strange to see it said in such a way that it's never a possibility for him or that it's wrong to portray it that way at all

like... for me, i think as far as within the show's canon timeframe, i can agree it's out of the question. they're emotionally and psychologically not prepared for a relationship (let alone an intimate one at the time of the events)

the show takes course over time for about a year, so Ysk will turn 17 and be closer to making adult decisions for himself and forming the kind of bright future he wants to grasp alongside his partner...

for Ysk, i think it would take a lot of time to overcome the fears of losing what matters most to him, a lot of introspection to realize that those feelings are romantic ones to begin with because he's never had the opportunity to lead a normal life until after everything is settled, and then to have the realization that he wants to pursue it mutually with that partner

everything has to align rather carefully, huh...

i do try to be careful with it because i understand that the purehearted aiyu and yuai fans could be offended by sexual depictions of them (various reasons) so i keep it separated from this kind of space and don't talk about my opinions much besides vaguely because the last thing i want is my words to be twisted or misinterpreted, lol

as far as aiyu or yuai, i think Ysk wants to return Aichan's love that was shown to him, and Aichan wants to be with Ysk forever, so it's really mutual and sweet and angsty considering it all. though, even if it's healthily mutual, it would take time to get to the point of kissing or anything further (which they can and should do because it would be healing for them to experience that kind of love together as romantic partners)

...and isn't that fine? isn't it fine to envision this couple eventually healing to the point that they have mutually desired intimacy and love? after time passes?

anyway, that's just (part of) my opinion regarding that... and if you would be possibly offended that i drew them and want them to be lovey-dovey and intimate, maybe you should head out of here, haha

[llycaons]

You are getting eaten uppp on the AO3 sub for that fic anti-rec list jsyk. Probably because it’s incredibly weird and mean behavior. Be blessed

No one “hates you” but someone posted your anti-rec list thing on the AO3 sub and people are (rightfully) saying it’s a weird thing to do that shows zero awareness of fic etiquette or like, being a normal person. Just strange. Like you want people to trigger tag *fruit* but are comfortable saying all this shit about authors (not just the fics themselves… the regular-ass people who write them)… weird and strange behavior

I was so excited to receive this ask until it was clarified that nobody actually hates me :( exciting news either way. is this reddit? were you on the ao3 REDDIT? good fucking luck on there anon I cannot imagine subjecting myself to that. also it's not a trigger tag and it's really bizarre that you bring that up at all when it has absolutely nothing to do with the actual conversation here

let's start. you're placing a heavy amount of moral weight on 'weirdness' while (I think?) also recognizing that it's inherently an amoral quality. and it is - but that criticism doesn't really mean anything to me. I've never been a 'normal person,' and idk what you mean by that. normal by who's standards? people who frequent ao3? let's say I am an out-of-touch meanie who doesn't understand 'fic etiquette'. based on the fact that it's ao3 fans, I can only assume it's people who are cool with ao3 hosting slave AUs and explicit child/adult content. and I'm really going to pretend like I care about their standards of conduct? oh no, the people who say 'your kink isn't my kink' about rape porn think I'm being mean to them! whatever shall I do! trust ao3 fans to consider legitimate critique a breach of etiquette but not...idk, incest porn. sure, I'm making assumptions but I am well-acquainted with the culture of that site lmao so am I wrong?

like, the meat of this ask is just so hung up on 'normality', which is not a very useful metric for moral behavior or critique and I'm not sure what you want me to do with it. I do many harmless abnormal things, and there are many 'normal' things that cause great harm. like, what does a normal person do according to ao3 fans? do they read cp? do you consider that normal behavior? is that harmless? does reading cp, or turning a blind eye to it, adhere to this precious fic etiquette? should I conform? should I be polite and sit quietly while the community I'm in runs wild with abuse apologism and bioessentialist nonsense? I recognize this is not what your ask was about, but you're asking me to compare my behavior to what ao3 fans think is acceptable, and I went through the entire tag last year so I KNOW what kind of things they like. I just don't think I can extend the benefit of the doubt to this place I've never heard of until today but which sounds a bleak and wretched place

anyway I am autistic and I don't mind being weird, and idk why you're so fixated on that as a value judgement or a way to shame me. you have to understand how little I value the moral standards of the average ao3 fan or the 'normal' signifier.

on to your next grievance - my critiques of the authors as people. I just read through my entire list and I am extremely specific and detailed about why I hated those works, going into poor characterization and soulless, boring writing. I specify if the works are confusing, infantalizing, bioessentialist, out of character, nonsensical, overwrought, passionless, disrespectful, insensitive, boring, poorly researched, misogynistic. is it really unfair to extrapolate from racist writing or an unwillingness to self-educate that the writer has racist ideas, and that might bleed out into their behavior and actions in the real world? that someone who writes an AU that doesn't make sense for the character didn't understand the characters' journey? that someone who writes a nonsensical story doesn't know what they're doing? that's just drawing conclusions based on what the writers themselves have already posted. that's entirely within the scope of a reader and any argument to the contrary is both absolutely absurd and an insult to the intelligence of literally any reader, of anything

but on that page I barely talk about the people who wrote them. except for the author who was white? because I know she's white, I looked her up and I think her writing of Chinese characters is really awkward and bad. I've also called a few writers racist idiots, but their fics were really poorly written, and the other one got mad when being corrected on cultural inaccuracies, so I mean. is that a stretch? like, maybe, but it is really unfair? I think no. it's not even that personal of an attack. but by and large I don't even care about the authors, and I don't know why you're getting so defensive of them when I'm simply judging their work and not them as people.

no matter how much of a fun hobby anyone claims fanfic is, it's not a form of media uniquely exempt from criticism. and I don't think it's healthy for any writers to take criticism of their work so personally. that's something for them to take responsibility for if they're going to post their stuff on the internet, and by extension readers need to be okay with that too.

also I gave them all gold stars...ao3 girlies can't appreciate a passionate and thoughtful critique smh.

back to my tag request, which is something that makes my personal blog usable for me - trying to act like an unusual tag request is the same as making assumptions about people based on what they write and post publicly is both unfair and really shitty of you, anon. is my 'weird' request really as bad as calling someone a misogynist for writing something sexist? I DO judge people for what they decide to publicly put into the world, and rightfully so. people have a responsibility for their creations. meanwhile there is absolutely no reason to judge me for my tagging requests no matter how strange they seem to you, because they're absolutely harmless. this isn't hypocrisy and I don't understand why you seem to think it is.

and I don't go out of my way to be an asshole - if someone's first language isn't english or if they're clearly not an experienced writer, I'm not going to be a dick about it. I mean, I try. I barely have over 100 followers. the anti-rec page is hard to get to, and notposted anywhere but my blog. I have never harassed anyone, or encouraged harassment. I don't even comment negative reviews. I purposefully didn't tags the recs when they were posts because I didn't want people finding them, and I don't even talk about my interests on other websites, much less spread my rec list around. this is purely a personal project I did for fun while under one of the most stressful times of my life to share with my online friends, and I don't regret it. I had a blast. this is nothing I wouldn't post on my blog or talk about with my friends anyway. I don't mind being criticized for it, since it's public too. I just don't feel bad about it either nor do I feel like apologizing or taking down the page.

so yeah idk what you expected from me but I don't really give a shit that a bunch of fanfic readers are mad at me for having standards. you (general you) simply cannot expect to publish something on a public website with a massive fandom and then whine when a random stranger on the internet dares criticizes you. one of these writers is a published author! if she's one of the people upset - learn to take some criticism! maybe it'll improve her writing! and I'm hardly posting on the front page of a major website here, I don't even know how that sub found my list because I don't really post about it on here either unless specifically asked about it

anyway this ask got me to go back and read that page again and I had such a good time revisiting it that I'm linking it. so hi everyone read my anti-rec list it's genuinely so funny and I'm very proud of it and it's actually quite well-thought out so yeah i'm not ashamed or embarrassed but thanks for letting me know as this is kind of fun news and brightened up the day

ALSO I feel like there's so much focus on the anti-rec page when I have a lovingly crafted and THEMED rec list right there split into equal sections, all carefully and appropriately titled with summaries, ratings, trigger warnings...I'm very proud of my rec list most of all. in fact, the anti-rec list was the wild child I tacked on at the end for a laugh when I really needed to complain

bascially tho I'm a complete stranger who put like six fanfics on a list and talked about them because I didn't like them so idk why everyone's freaking out. well knowing ao3's allergies to the slightest criticism I guess I do know why, but it IS deeply unserious. anon. pretend I'm looking you right in the eye. you know this. I don't need to be blessed. it is deeply unserious. it's going to be fine.

[muffinrecord]

Rambling Thoughts (Negative)

Putting this under the cut and out of the main tag for reasons. Sometimes people will read my opinion here and then say it elsewhere-- to be clear, I just want to say my own feelings without influencing anyone about the state of the game.

(also I accidentally lost and rewrote this post twice so I apologize if it feels all over the place)

So yesterday I responded to a post about Homucifer and EOS, but my feelings are actually a little more complicated than that.

The truth is, I do think that this game has maybe another year left, but maybe not more than that. I'm not actually sure how it could keep going-- not because of Akuma Homura, but actually because of all the power creep. But let's talk about Akuma Homura first.

Everyone and their mom knows the issues that plague her release. First off, she didn't get a new shiny transformation video but a copy+paste of her rebellion one. Hell, even youtube was like "this shit isn't original" and gave me this:

This video is banned in Austria and Germany for its content, not because of music (for once) but because it uses footage from the Rebellion movie. Like jeez.

The game has been having issues with its transformation videos for a while now, so I don't think anyone expected something revolutionary for her video-- but to have it just be reused animation is very disappointing for an anniversary unit and such an anticipated one at that. Additionally her chibi poke animation looks super weird and offputting (which is such a stupid complaint but it really adds into every other problem with the unit). Her Doppel reuses more animation, which is a shame.

I think that's the big deal for me-- this is a massively anticipated unit, and she was an Anniversary unit. I think everyone, not just myself, expected more effort to be put into her. I say this as someone who wasn't hyped for Akuma Homura-- I didn't have massive expectations to meet.

All that said, I still don't think that Akuma Homura herself is an EOS signal at this point. I meant it earlier when I said that I think the game has another year left. The entire reason that Devil Homura was considered an EOS signal in the first place was because that was the "big" unit that could for sure draw in the most money. She was the one "oh shit" button that could draw in a crowd and force people to spend money.

And in a way... she kind of did, through some scummy tactics. We all know very well why they released Historia Yachiyo the way they did-- she looks like an Anniversary unit, she has gameplay like one, and her banner runs throughout Anniversary. I completely believe that they released Historia Yachiyo to drain folks' pockets of magia stones so that people would be forced to spend money to get Devil Homura.

All that said-- to go back to my earlier point, I don't think Devil Homura is an EOS signal. I think that Madoka & Homura and Kyoko & Sayaka would fill a similar role. They are also both very anticipated units.

Additionally, I don't think that Akuma Homura being released in such a state, no matter how pathetic, is an EOS signal. As mentioned above, the game is having issues with its transformation videos. If they're going to budget the game accordingly, I'd rather it affect the henshins than anything else.

Here's the thing that makes me think the game is starting to wrap up in this year: Gameplay.

This game is suffering from powercreep. No, it didn't start now, or even last year-- I think Madoka & Iroha definitely began a bad trend which has become more and more monstrous. But even before then, we had units like Yozuru and Mikage which just completely outclassed units before them (before getting outclasses themselves).

But imo, Madoka & Iroha were still at least fun to use? But then you get to units like Devil Homura and Historia Yachiyo.

These units are straight up not fun to play with. In fact, they're the opposite of fun-- you don't even need to play the game. I did all of the EX-Challenges with my Historia Yachiyo and... jeez, the hardest part about them is that I can't turn off magia/doppel animations or use auto. And maybe the answer is: well don't use Historia Yachiyo then.

But what did I roll her for? I want to play with this character. I got her four-slotted. I like her aesthetic. I liked Puella Historia and I want to use a character that encapsulates that.

It's just, it feels like lots and lots of parts of the game that used to be important simply aren't anymore. Remember when the poison used by that one uwasa boss was a murderer for teams? Or the curse inflicted by the little uwasa mail familiars? You don't really need to worry about things like that anymore.

I'm not just speaking as a whale either... I do have alt accounts that don't spend money that I play a whole lot of.

At a certain point, the gameplay gets really really stale, but investing in your characters isn't fruitful anymore either, because they're already maxed in episode levels, magia, doppels... The only reason that Spirit Enhancement isn't maxed is 'cause the middle to large fragments are artificially capped and you can't grind them out.

But how do you give players more ways to invest in their girls without increasing further power creep? Attribute Enhancement was introduced and god, the numbers are fun but also jesus christ. Like, in what possible way can you make the girls have new ways to be new?

....

This really is a ramble.

I don't think the game is going to eos in the next six months or so. I base this on all the promo this anniversary put out (that costs money to make money), all the new quality of life things put in place by anni, the announcement of Magia Day + Scene Zero, and the upcoming movie. These are all signs that the game is gonna keep going for a bit.

But man, it also just kinda sucks that this game I love is actively becoming less fun for me.