#{because he uses romantic love as an excuse to burn himself out AND HE DID LITERALLY 9 DOES THIS}

[thebadtimewolf]

oh god. they grieved wilf's death together. i cant.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Seven

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!)

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, Vox's time to shine :) Lots of plot happening this chapter, let’s go!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Seven - Forget Me Knot

Content Warning: Mentions of Physical Abuse, Self Harm, Blood, Nonconsenting Sexual Interactions, Smut, Minors DNI!!!

And then you ran.

And Alastor did not follow.

The demon sat on his ass in the bayou terrain, staring completely dumbfounded as you disappeared through the tree line. Yet again you had bested him. Yet again you had won.

You didn't use any of your magic, you didn't summon any of your power, and yet the demon sat there, utterly power-less.

The demon angrily threw off his coat, the bayou suddenly too hot, too suffocating. He loosened his bow tie to better catch his breath.

What were you doing to him? What was becoming of the Radio Demon, Hell's Equal Opportunity Killer, Hell's Overlord?

With a crazed look in his eye, the demon ran his hands through his hair again and again, trying to catch his breath and clear his mind.

He had brought you here to hunt you, to demand answers, and yet he somehow ended up the prey. All because of those hips…

Almost as if reading his thoughts, his dick throbbed in his pants.

The demon groaned, trying his best to ignore the want, the need, the desire crawling beneath his skin. His magic hummed, not out of irritation, but out of demand. You had started something but did not finish it.

How rude.

But is that what you were hoping to accomplish? Or was it truly a distraction? So many questions and so few answers.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a door slam shut. Good, you were gone.

Alastor couldn't take it anymore; he undid his pants and pulled his cock free, only to find it weeping precum already. He hissed, wrapping his hand around his shaft.

Fuck, you had blue-balled him.

The first few strokes were painful, and then pain gave way to slowly building pleasure. Hisses turned to moans. Stiff muscles became jelly as he allowed himself to slowly become undone.

He couldn’t remember the last time he did something like this. Even alive he wasn’t a very promiscuous man. Sure, he tried sex a few times, but that was only to please the women in his life. When he couldn’t get it up or couldn’t finish, they assumed something was wrong with them. Were they not pretty enough? Not sexy enough? Bad at kissing? If it went on long enough, then the answer became obvious: the issue was with him. So, technically, he never truly completed the act of sex, but he did try. Not because he wanted to but because the women did.

Frankly, he didn’t see the point to it. There were so many other things he could be spending his time doing. He got good at other things… but that was to keep others satisfied so they wouldn’t come looking for sex. It was a burden, honestly. He used any excuse he could to avoid such things, but eventually, the women grew frustrated and irritable.

Those few fleeting relationships didn’t last long - if you could even call them relationships. He didn’t even have romantic feelings for those women - he just went through the motions because he was expected to by society. It was the era of the stereotypical patriarchal household. Of course, you married, settled down, and had kids.

When finding a female partner didn't work out, someone suggested he might be into men, but he knew he was not. Men were fucking vile creatures as far as he was concerned. Thus, he gave up pursuing any relationship of any kind and dedicated his time to other… extracurricular activities.

Alastor groaned, his mind becoming foggy. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as thoughts of aggravation and his past quickly became thoughts of you.

The way your face flushed as you ground your hips against his. The gasp which escaped your beautifully red lips as his static cupped your breasts.

“Ugh,” he whined. Red was definitely your color.

And then there you were on your knees in the dirt, in your cute little red dress with black lace. Alastor wasn’t a religious man, but you in that dress had him practically on his knees the other day. He hated to admit it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you in it, couldn’t stop imagining what it would look like on his bedroom floor…

He imagined you crawling to him across the grass, your eyes locked on his. He imagined you positioning yourself between his legs, licking your red lips at the sight of his cock.

The demon gasped as your hands ghosted up his legs, coming to rest at the base of his inner thighs.

Then you smiled, your canines glowing in the low light, "Mr. Alastor."

He shuttered.

The demon stroked harder, faster with the thoughts of those teeth skimming his shaft, of those red lips wrapped around his cock.

You came closer, crawling over top of him, pushing your breasts into his chest, your ass wiggling in the air behind you. Your eyes, half-lidded, filled with lust and desire, sent a wave of pleasure through him that had him downing raspy breaths of air.

Alastor's head bobbed backward, his entire body shuttering from the build of his climax. His hips instinctively bucked up into his hand as he stroked, his body demanding more, demanding faster, demanding harder.

Oh, Satan’s Mistress, he wanted so badly to ruin that dress with his...

"Uh-uh," you teased, running your hand through his hair, you clamped down, and tugged his head forward, forcing him to look into your eyes. "I didn't say you could cum, yet, now did I?"

Fucking Hell. Alastor whined in protest.

"Beg," you demanded.

Alastor was there, ready, but he wouldn’t - couldn't - not unless you said he could.

"I want to hear you beg for it," something behind your eyes turned dark.

"P...Please," Alastor moaned as he bucked up into his hand. “Please..."

You smirked, using a finger to caress his cheek "Oh, my darling buck, I could never deny you anything."

And Alastor came.

"Fuck," he moaned into the darkness as he spilled his seed all over the ground.

The Radio Demon continued to stroke even after wave after wave spewed from him.

Fuck, there was so much cum.

And when it was over and the lust-filled image of you had faded...

It did nothing to satisfy him - nothing to take the edge off. His magic was still humming beneath his skin, throbbing even. His static reached out, trying desperately to find you, and returned aggravated when it did not. It rolled through his blood, an insatiable itch he couldn't satisfy - almost as if the lack of your very presence had some sort of hold over the demon's magic.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to find a way to burn off all this pent-up… sexual energy. He fixed his pants, his dick still hard as he rebuttoned his trousers.

The Radio Demon forced himself to his feet and melted angrily into shadow.

____________________________________________

This bouquet was so much bigger. So much fucking bigger. And it came with a gift. 

“Open it.” Angel leaned over your left shoulder. “Open it.” He switched to your right. “Open it.” Your left. “Open it.” Your right. “Open it.”

“Oh, my God, Angel!” You snapped - but in a cute way. You could never be mad at the spider demon. “If I open it will you please stop?” You chuckled. 

“Oh, baby,” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I will never stop.”

You rolled your eyes, digging into the gift bag. 

Of-fucking-course… A cellphone. Vox bought you a cell phone. Angel gasped. You had an unread message, and naturally, it was from the media demon. You spun the phone around for Angel to read. 

Angel slapped a hand over his mouth. “Holy shit! We gotta go shoppin’!” He grabbed your elbows and lugged you to your feet. 

“Uh,” you put the brakes on hard. “I’m not going on a date with Vox.” 

Angel ran his hands down his face, groaning in irritation. “Look, toots.” He crossed his many arms. “We need to 'ave a really honest conversation ‘ere.”

You checked the foyer. It was the middle of the day, and no one was home save for Charlie and Vaggie, who had been locked in the office for hours. You hadn’t seen Alastor since the whole swamp incident… Even Husk was out at the moment. It was just you and Angel, save for Nifty running around killing bugs somewhere. No one saw the flowers getting dropped off except for the spider demon, who just so happened to be leaving his room at the same time you were. 

You crossed your arms and collapsed onto the sofa like a small child being chastised by a parent. 

Angel turned on his big brother charm and began his lecture. “I know you don’t 'ave a lotta experience with this kinda stuff, but I do. So, ‘ear me out when I say this, I think you’re confused.”

You raised an eyebrow in question. 

He sighed, “I get that you were raised in the Church and everythin’, but you’re in Hell now. That whole Damnation bullshit has already run its course, toots. I think, maybe, you should consider broadening your horizons a bit. Go on dates. Kiss a few demons. See how it makes you feel.” He cleared his throat. “Just, try somethin’ new. For my sake?” 

Wow. You were not expecting that. Did you really want to do this with Vox? No. Did you want to do anything remotely romantic or sexual? No… Well… No! What happened with Alastor the other night was pure survival instinct. It didn’t matter that you enjoyed it. It didn’t matter that he… well his body’s reaction was quite obvious… Hugely obvious… But you were talking about pure sexual reactions, it didn’t mean anything. 

You hated Alastor. It was as simple as that… right? 

You bit your lip, smudging your red lipstick. “And if I don’t like it?” 

“Then you don’t like it!” He threw his hands into the air. “Look, Hair clip, you got to suck dick to know you don’t like suckin’ dick.” 

You snorted into a fit of giggles. 

“So, whattya say? Shoppin’ trip?” Angel held out a hand.

You debated a moment, “Actually, Rosie might have something already prepared for me…”

____________________________________________

“It’s all about the confidence, toots. Chin up.” Angel instructed. 

You did as you were instructed, although begrudgingly. Taking a deep breath, you raised your chin and strode across the wood. You wobbled, practically falling into the back of the couch for support. 

“This is impossible, Angel! I don’t know why Rosie thought this would be a good idea!” You fell into the couch completely, using it as leverage to kick off the red stilettos. “She knows I can’t handle heels this high.” 

Angel rolled his eyes, “You just need a bit of practice, that’s all.” He tosses you the new pair of Mary Janes he helped you buy.

“Well, Vox is due any minute,” in the black heels, the train of your black dress drags across the ground, but it would have to do. “I’m out of time.”

“Alastor still doesn’t know?” The spider demon raises an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him since...” 

“Since you fell outta his room on ya’ ass?” Angel filled in for you. 

“Yes…” You hid your face. 

“Still don’t wanna talk about it, toots?” 

“No.” You go for the black clutch, ensuring the new phone is tucked inside. Angel gave you his number just in case. “Besides, who cares if he knows?” 

Angel huffed, collecting the red stilettos and following you out front. “Would ya’ care to know that he’s been on a rampage in the Doomsday District since then?”

Your ears perked up. “What?”

“Smiles been goin’ ape shit ova’ there since ya’ did whatever the fuck you did in his room.” Angel pulled a video up on his phone. Alastor's demon form was ripping the place to shreds, eating Sinners, and causing pure chaos.

Oh, fuck…

As if on cue, a black limo pulled up. The media demon popped out the back donning a freshly pressed blue suit, a grin plastered across his screen. He had a new hat - red ribbon instead of blue. 

A rescue from your Alastor conversation. Thank the Lord. 

“Hey, babe!” His eyes raked over your form. “You look fucking hot!” 

Your entire body shuttered, immediately collapsing in on yourself. Angel cringed next to you. 

Eh, maybe you’d rather keep talking about the Radio Demon. 

Rosie had truly outdone herself this time: a floor-length black gown that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was a simple dress with long sleeves and a high back to cover your tattoo. It had a high neckline with a slit on one side. The dress was designed to show off your silhouette as opposed to your cleavage - which you were thankful for. Again, you weren't the biggest fan of girly dresses, but this one allowed you to be feminine while also not making you feel too exposed - which modern feminine-style clothing often did.

You pulled your hair into a bun at the base of your neck, a few strands of bangs curled around your face, barely brushing the tops of your collarbones. You couldn’t take all the credit for the hair or the silver eyeshadow - Angel was the architect of that.

Vox’s eyes flitted between you and the Hotel door. “Shall we?” He laughed awkwardly, a hand out in waiting. 

Your eyes found Angel’s, screaming for him to rescue you - make some excuse to get you out of this evening, but he was beaming. He nodded for you to go and watched as Vox whisked you into the limo so fast you didn’t have a chance to grab the train of your dress before the media demon slammed it in the door. 

Vox jumped in on the other side and, using a com button on his seat gave directions to a restaurant in the Entertainment District. 

God, Rosie will kill you if you ruin this dress after only wearing it for an hour. 

“So,” Vox cleared his throat, clearly oblivious to the anxiety playing across your face. “You live at the Hotel…” The demon scooched closer to you.

You crossed your legs, hoping the demon didn’t notice the black velvet stuck in the doorframe. How fucking embarrassing… “Yeah, I just moved actually.” 

You didn’t know what to do with your hands as Vox’s leg came to rest against your own. The fabric brushed against your bare thigh - curse Rosie and this slit. 

“Why would you want to move there? You don’t seriously think the Princess’s redemption plan will work do you?” He scoffed. 

Hell, no.

“I wouldn’t have moved if I didn’t have hope.” You kept your gaze forward, too nervous to glance in his direction. The media demon was in your bubble and you didn’t particularly enjoy his aroma of plastic and cheap cologne. 

“Seriously?” 

You shot him an irritated look. 

“Fine. Fine.” He backed off. “But the company she keeps?”

“The company?” You decide to play dumb. 

“The Smiling Freak,” He spat, his screen glitching. 

You turned to him then, a soft smile playing out on your face as you tipped your head in feigned confusion. “Who?”

The demon’s screen buffered. “Alastor, the Radio Demon.”

His irritation sparked genuine joy in your chest, but you slammed the mask down over your face so face he didn’t notice. “Oh! The Hotel Manager! Yes, he does always seem chipper, doesn’t he?”

Vox’s screen flashed with a disgruntled look before he changed the subject. “Champagne?” 

He went for the mini fridge and pulled out a pink sparkly bottle. 

As long as it wasn’t sweet… 

The bottle read “Rosé Champagne.” 

Great… This was going to be a long night…

____________________________________________

“Babe.”

You spun the glass of wine on its base, watching the liquid dance. It’s been about an hour and a half since you sat down for dinner, and finally, FINALLY, you had finished and were waiting for dessert. 

“Babe.” 

Why did people even like big, flashy dinners like this? What’s wrong with a perfectly good home-cooked meal AWAY FROM THE LIMELIGHT. 

FLASH! Another camera went off in your face. The fucking media had been tailing you since the limo dropped you off out front. How did they even know you were going to be here? 

“Babe,” a pair of cold metallic fingers wrapped under your chin and raised your face from your glass. Your heart skipped a beat, your brain not registering the situation before your eyes found Vox’s. 

Disappointment swirled in your belly. 

“Sorry,” you waved him off. “The wine is making my head a bit fuzzy.” 

Not a lie. What glass were you on again? 

“As I was saying, Voxtek will combine the two into one, so Sinners can detect who or what is at their front doors.” The demon preached, giving his best spokesman voice he often used on television.

“Ah, huh,” you agreed, ignoring the buzzing in your clutch. 

Angel has been hard at work stalking every media news outlet tailing your date with the Overlord. He took to sending you screenshots and comments about every single one. Quite annoying actually. 

Your eyes searched the shadows for the hundredth time that night. Yet everything was still. No static prickling your skin, no cold shadows twirling about your ankles. It meant Alastor still didn’t know about your date or didn’t care… Why did that make your chest ache? 

“Seems we can make money off of the Soul Scanner after all!” 

Your ears perked up at that. 

“Wait,” you paused your twirling. “Soul Scanner?” 

“Yup!” The demon straightened a little, his sin showing. “Angelic Security’s newest feature!” He whipped out his phone to show you a preview. “It will send notifications directly to your phone anytime it detects a soul in its camera.” He points to the info-graph on the screen. “It even has an Exorcist Angel feature.”

Names. It could detect names. 

“That’s the same technology you use to identify the Shadow’s victims.” 

Vox beamed, “Yes! It can only register Hell names; however, we haven’t found a way to uncover Christian names - but that’s step two! Want to try?” Vox pulled up an app on his phone and handed it to you. 

“Vox of Voxtek Technologies,” the female voice read as you pointed the camera at the demon.

Shit. 

“You can track the Shadow’s movements,” the gears behind your eyes begin to turn. “You’re going to use it to uncover his identity.” 

“I knew you were a smart one, babe,” the demon collected your hand and pressed a kiss to the top, sending little bolts of electricity dancing across your skin. 

As you attempted to calm the quiet panic building inside of you, the demon intertwined his fingers with yours. “And now you!” 

“What?” 

Before you had a chance to stop him, Vox captured you on the phone’s camera. “Unknown.” The woman’s voice rang. The media demon looked confused before he pushed the button again. “Unknown. Unknown. Unknown.”

“That’s never happened before.” 

You laughed awkwardly, anxiety bubbling in your chest. “That’s so strange.” Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject! “So, Vox,” you ran your thumb over the back of his hand, pulling his attention away from his phone. “How long have you been an Overlord?” 

The demon’s screen buffered, little waves of static running up and down his form. He pushed the interference away, fixing his bowtie to try and cover it up. “Well, since you asked…”

“Voxy!” 

Fuck. 

Velvette strode up wearing a pink dress so scandalous it made you look like a 16th-century pilgrim. Her hair was done up in a fro, her iconic swirl painted into the side. Gigantic earrings dangled just above her collarbones, sparkling in the candlelight. The swoop in her neckline was low enough to show her belly button, and don’t get you started on the double slit. 

The bitch could pull it off, don’t misunderstand, she was gorgeous, but it was Velvette, and you did not like her. 

And on her arm…

“Crim?” You gasped. 

The Mafia Boss plucked the cigar from his mouth, emptying the ashes into the tray atop your table, before he addressed the group. “I see my reputation precedes me.” He winks at you. The Hell Native had a coat draped over his shoulder, and his iconic fedora sat crooked atop his head. He smelled of smoke and whiskey and GREED. 

“Velvette,” Vox laughed, attempting to hide his irritation. “What are you doing here?” 

“Dollface is just showin’ me around the joint. Nice place ya’ got here, Mr. Vee.” 

Crim you dirty motherfucker!

You hid a clenched fist beneath the table, doing your best to contain the growing irritation bubbling beneath your skin. 

The fucker made a deal with you. Granted, it wasn’t a soul contract, but it was a deal nonetheless: Chaz’s death for the card and a bit of cash. That was it. So what the fuck was he doing here with Velvette?

You sniffed, trying to sense their emotions, but Crim’s cigar was too pungent to get a good read. 

This wasn’t a coincidence. There are no coincidences. Fucking mosquitoes. They always come back. How could you be so stupid!? 

“Well that’s nice…” Vox’s voice trailed off. “I thought you were headed back down after the meeting this morning?” 

Meeting!?

“Thought I’d stick around. Check out the joint. Not everyday us Natives get an invitation to the Pride Ring.” 

Shit. Shit. Shit. You took a sip of your wine to hide your growing anxiety. 

“Mr. Crim was just telling me about a cute little mansion on the edge of town he was thinkin’ bout purchasin',” Velvette added. 

You choked, the wine going down the wrong pipe. 

The same fuckin’ mansion he arranged your meeting at!? The exact same meeting he met with the Shadow!? 

“You okay, babe?” Vox handed you a napkin, which you used to cough into. 

Fuck, the Vees are aligning themselves with the Crimson Mafia gang. They couldn’t find any allies with the Overlords of Pride, so they had to go lower - to someone who had dealt with the Shadow before. Was it to solely take on Heaven or the Shadow as well?

Definitely the latter.

What were you going to do? You couldn’t kill Crim. That would be too obvious, the timing too perfect. 

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I’m good.” 

“This is your mysterious Alley Girl, Vox?” Velvette’s eyes narrowed.

Vox nodded. 

“Is that one of mine?” the fashion guru asked, her red sclera scrutinizing your dress. 

“A Rosie Original, actually,” you smiled.

"Rosie, the tailor?" She raised an eyebrow in question.

"No, Rosie, the Overlord," you corrected.

The demon gritted her teeth. There it was. That got under her skin. She thought oh-so little of the Overlords of Hell, she thought herself above them all - at least, that's what you got out of her attitude at the meeting. And you had guessed correctly.

She smiled, trying to hide her growing irritation. “Right,” She turned back to Vox. “See ya’ later, luv, kisses!” And then she was gone, whisking Crim away to the bar.

When she was well out of earshot, Vox laughed. "Never seen someone shut her up so fast!" The demon grabbed your hand again, his other twirling one of your free-flowing bangs. "Now, where were we?"

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his self-absorbed mantra about the new phone update set to release soon. Honestly, you truly gave it your best shot. Sure, this night started out with a bit of you teasing about Alastor, but afterward, you genuinely did try to get to know him. It just, was hard when everything became about him.

He didn't care about you at all. Which was unexpected, especially after such a declaration in the streets of the Entertainment District. It made you feel like a trophy he wanted to show off, and, when he was done, he put you right back up on the shelf. There you sat until he found it convenient to take you down again.

You meant it as a metaphor when you said you felt like a toy the two Overlords were fighting over. The difference now was that Vox was truly treating you like one.

You took another sip of your wine as dessert was served, your mind once again wandering to the shadows...

____________________________________________

“Thank you,” Vox held the door open for you. 

Finally, the night was over. Finally, you could crawl into bed and hide for the next year of your life. Your social meter was in the negatives. You were drained. This had all been just too much. 

“No, thank you, babe, for a wonderful evening,” the demon grabbed your hand, his fingers dancing across your skin. The demon fell silent, his eyes turning glassy as they found yours. 

You were suddenly very nervous, your stomach fell, your mouth ran dry. “Okay, so good-” 

The demon pulled you in, his lips crashing into yours. It was… um… well, you kissed him back - or rather, you tried - but like… it wasn’t…

Vox’s tongue slid over your lips and pushed its way into your mouth. He tasted of static and salted fish.

The demon ran his hands down your back, coming to a stop atop your hips. He used the leverage to pull you closer. Flush against the Overlord, you expected to feel warmth, exhilaration, and desire, but none of that came. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You wanted to run, but not in the same way you wanted to run from Alastor. You wanted to run in a grossed-out sort of way. Like you needed a good bath to scrub off all the ickiness now clinging to you.

The Overlord moaned into your mouth as his lips smacked against yours.

God, it was so wet… Has this man been kissing Hellhounds all his life? Not that you had any experience to go off of. This was your first kiss after all...

You did your best to kiss him back, but it wasn't working out. It was more mashing of lips than it was actual kissing. Is this what people get enjoyment out of? Others made it seem so simple like your lips were just supposed to know what to do. This was just awkward.

Finally, Vox broke the encounter, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Till next time, gorgeous.” He squeezed your ass before letting you go. 

And then he was gone…

As the limo pulled away, you felt your feet collapse beneath you. The tears found your cheeks before you realized you were ugly-sobbing on the curb before the Hotel.

Husk found you not long after and brought you inside. He wrapped you in a blanket and sat you at the bar, pouring glass after glass of water before you finally said something.

Shit was this what dating was? Why did people like doing these things? Angel made it sound so fun and enjoyable - this is his area of expertise, after all. "Go out, have a fun time, kiss a few demons - blah, blah, blah." Yeah right. Angel was going to get an earful the next time you saw him.

“Angel still at work?” You mumbled.

Husk nodded.

“And Alastor?” You ask hesitantly, your eyes downcast. 

Please don’t be here. 

“Busy.” 

There it was, that ache in your chest again.

“Good.” 

“I take it, it didn’t go well?” Husk asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you rubbed your face. Your red lipstick and makeup had to be smeared to high Hell by now - Vox was probably wearing half of it. You wetted a napkin and tried to clean up the damage in the reflection of your glass. 

Actually, you know what, you did want to talk about it. 

“He was just so… so…” you forced your drunken brain to think. “Full of himself! He didn’t shut up once the entire dinner, save for me being able to ask a few questions ABOUT HIMSELF.” 

Irritation prickled the flames beneath your skin. “The date was a disaster from the beginning! He ruined my dress - again!" You motion to the tear in the hem of the fabric. “Then he took us to the most famous rooftop bar in the Entertainment District, where a hoard of reporters were lying in wait. He pulled me about them like I was a piece of arm candy! I HATE the limelight, Husk. A definition of a good time for me is a glass of red and a good book in the library - which I haven’t been able to do in forever." 

“We sat at the VIP table with people waiting on us every two seconds, I couldn’t breathe with how often people were asking my opinion or bringing me a tiny ass plate of a few mouthfuls of food. I mean twelve courses!? Really!? Also, he ordered dinner for me without my input - fish, Husk, he ordered me fish! I hate fish! And don’t even get me started on dessert - chocolate mousse…. I fucking loathe chocolate." 

“At least he had the common courtesy to drop me off at home after. My feet are killing me!” You pulled off your shoes and threw them across the room, sniffling. Taking a deep breath, you bury your head in your hands. “He kissed me, Husk.” A shaky breath. “And it was so, so gross… He was practically licking me.” Your voice cracks as tears stream down your face. “Why are men so fucking vile?” 

There's silence for a beat before you feel Husk lay a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, kid.” 

God, the last time you cried this hard was when Dad beat the shit out of you… 

“Here,” Husk hands you a napkin to dry your eyes and dot your nose. 

God, now you truly were a mess. 

“Can we just talk about something else? I don’t want to end the night like this…” You sniffle, thoroughly destroying the napkin in a wave of black mascara. 

“Uh…” Husk looked uncomfortable. 

“Let’s talk about you, Husk.” You offer. 

“Nothing much to talk about, kid,” he took a swig of water - how uncharacteristic of the cat. 

“Come on. There has to be more to the emotionally damaged barkeep than just pouring drinks,” a sad chuckle escapes your lips. 

“I’m not emotionally damaged. Ya’ll think I’m…” 

You shot him a dumb look.

“Yeah, okay, whatever…” he takes another swig. “Question for a question?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What, so you can report everything back to Alastor? Yeah, no thank you.”

“Believe it or not kid, there are some things that I keep from the Radio Demon.”

Alastor’s words echo through your mind “... You would be surprised how difficult that barcat can be…”

Maybe not everything would get back to the Overlord - this snob fest certainly will. However, you did need to get closer to Husk, this would be a good opportunity. 

“Fine, but I invoke the right to pass.” 

“Same.” 

“Do you get paid to be here?” You started as he poured you another glass of water.

“Alastor is significantly more… generous regarding his deal-making - for Nifty and me, at least. He has ensured that we are well taken care of. Including a monetary pension.” 

Well, you weren't expecting that. You didn’t have much experience making soul deals that resulted in servitude. Any transactions that were made were for your soul’s discrimination and silence. Even the obsidian calling cards had their terms - albeit, cardholders didn’t know this until it was too late. You couldn’t imagine making a soul deal and having to take care of those souls afterward. Seemed like a lot of work. 

“How old were you when you died?” 

That wasn’t something you thought about.

“Twenty-five. You?”

“Seventy-five.”

You tried to hold back a gasp of surprise, slapping your hand over your mouth. “Husker, you’re an old man!?” 

You hadn’t known this from your prior research. 

“Was,” he sipped, pointing a finger. “Was an old man.” He narrows his eyes at you, his face turning slightly pink. “Don’t tell Angel.” 

You made a cross over your heart with your fingers. “Cross my heart and you know the rest…” 

“Okay, Grandpa Husk, what did you do before Alastor came along and ruined your life?” 

You already knew the answer.

“He didn’t ruin my life…” The barcat mumbled. 

You blinked. “What?” 

He takes a long breath, leaning back against the bartop, arms crossed, drink in hand. “I was in a bad spot. He got me out of it.” 

“Oh,” you said after a while, drinking the water to fill the awkward silence. 

Wait… 

“Didn’t you just warn me about how dangerous of a demon he could be?” 

“I lost my soul, kid. That isn’t something to take lightly, but when you're down on your luck, you'll turn to anything to keep you afloat… I can't take that back.” 

It was the best of the worst situation. You get it. 

He looked at you hard, suddenly very serious, “I don’t want that to happen to you, kid.” 

Okay, this was getting too much for you. You decide to derail the subject to something a bit lighter. “Tell me about your daughter.” 

He chokes on his drink, “How did you know I had a kid?” 

Shit. The alcohol was making your brain fuzzy. You slipped up. 

Trying to act casual as you thought of something to say. “You have the heart of a girl-dad.” 

He narrowed his eyes at your glass. “Have we met before?” 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Um…”

BAM!

“Can I get some help ova’ ‘ere?” Angel fell into the door leaving blood on the handle behind him. The spider demon collapsed onto the carpet, a dark puddle forming beneath him. 

Water went flying across the bartop as you and Husk scrambled over to him. Husk rolled him over and pulled him into his lap - gashes crisscrossed his chest so violently you didn’t know where the blood wasn’t coming from. “What happened!?” 

Angel’s breathing was ragged and shallow, “Val…” 

Val!? He came all the way from V Tower in this state!? 

Husk had a look of pure panic across his face. “Hold on, I got… I got a first aid kit behind the bar…” 

“That won’t help…” you breathed. 

Looking around, you checked the shadows, ensuring Alastor wasn’t watching. 

A gurgle escaped Angel’s throat. The death rattle, they call it. 

“We have to… We can… We can fix this…” Husk was hyperventilating now, his eyes wide with shock.

He’s dying.

“He isn’t dying!” Husk argued. You had said it out loud. 

Images of Clara drowning in her own blood came flooding back to you. Carmella was screaming… Odette was curled around her sister in a ball of tears. Exorcists flew overhead, their spears glittering in the light. It was a beautiful ballet of chaos. 

You willed the memories away.

“Husk,” you grabbed his arm, pulling his attention to you. “I need you to listen to me. Help me get him to my room.” 

“What? Why…” 

“Just do it!” 

You roped your arms under his knees. It took a moment for Husk to comprehend what you were saying before he finally shook his head and followed suit. Quickly, you ran the spider demon up the stairs, a trail of blood following in your wake. Throwing Angel onto the bed, you turned back to the hallway and…

SNAP! 

The blood disappeared. 

“Wait, how did you…” Husk stood at the side of the bed, looking between you and Angel and the hallway in disbelief.

You locked the door.

Jumping onto the bed, you straddled the spider demon, the slit of your dress bunching up over your hip. Now was not the time for modesty. Rolling up your sleeves, you pulled the hair clip from your hair and held it above your arm. “You DO NOT tell Alastor anything. Do you understand?” You spoke very clearly, hoping the seriousness got through to him.

He didn’t answer, confused and panicked.

“Husk!” 

The cat demon blinked. “Yeah!” He screamed. “I got you!” 

“Good,” you ran the prongs of the metal clip, sharpened to a point - courtesy of Carmilla Carmine - across your palm. A cut formed, but you quickly shoved it into the spider demon’s mouth before Husk got a better look. 

“Come on, come on,” you were covered in blood now, your sheets were ruined. You prayed no one heard the commotion and came running.

Angel was motionless for only a moment before the thrashing started. 

“Hold him down!” You screamed at Husk. 

The barcat did his best to hold down a set of his arms over his head as Angel thrashed in the sheets. 

Slowly, so slowly, the bleeding stopped. Skin and tissue began rethreading itself before your eyes, stitching to form new skin. 

Then, the room fell silent. His breathing stilled. His body relaxed. 

Angel was okay.

You didn’t hesitate. Jumping from the bed, you dipped your fingers into a puddle of his blood and began to draw runes on the parts of his fur not already soaked in red.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” 

“Runes of Healing.” Just in case.

When you were finished you went to the hidden markings about the room - beneath the carpet by the door, above the windows, and under the bed - refreshening their marks. 

“Are you mad?” 

Finally, above your headboard - for good measure. You jumped back, joining Husk at the foot of your bed as you both admired the work.

“Twenty plus ‘C’ plus ‘M’ plus ‘B’. What the fuck does that mean?” He read aloud.

“Christus mansionem benedicat - Latin for 'may Christ bless this house.'* Mortals use it to keep out the damned. I used it to keep out our household Overlord and his shadow.” You pointed to the “Alastor” written below it. 

Your hand hadn’t healed. So you held that one close to your chest. 

Angel Dust sighed and turned over on the bed. 

Good. That was good.

Husk turned to you expectantly. He crossed his arms, waiting for you to explain. 

Fuck, guess it was time…

Pulling an obsidian calling card from the Void, you held it out to the barcat and turned it over. Written in white ink at the bottom, hidden until now, was a name: Bernard Abernathy. 

The demon gasped.

“Took me years to get it back.” You shot him a small smile. “I recommend not gambling it away this time.” 

“How…” He took the card from you and you watched as a sort of clarity flashed across his eyes. “I remember…” His gaze met yours, a large smile forming across his face. 

Using their own blood on the obsidian card entered Sinners into an unknowing contract. Cardholders, should they give up or lose their cards, will forget you completely. Husk had one of your cards from a long time ago… Now that it’s finally returned, he can remember again. 

“Hey, Husky,” you smile back. 

He brings you into a hug. “Hey, kid,” he mumbles, his chin coming to rest atop your head. 

You stand there and hold each other for a long while until a murmur from Angel pulls you away. You had a lot of explaining to do, but it would have to wait. 

Drying your eyes, you head to the window. “Get him cleaned up. Don’t let him leave this room. I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” He asks.

SNAP! 

Your leather gear and cloak appear. You pull the hood up and open the window, preparing to jump. 

For Husk, since he knows who you are, the cloak's magic didn’t work. Strangers couldn’t see beneath the hood nor pull it off you. Many had tried. They all ended up in a pile of ash. But those who knew could do both.

Holding your fist before you, you summon blue flame. “To kill Valentino.” 

Dun, dun, dunnnnnn! Yeah, fuck Valentino.

*Wiki Link explaining the C+M+B if you are curious

-> Chapter Eight Coming Soon!

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Papa HCs!

(I think they're all autistic)

Primo

Primo likes to spend a lot of time by himself or with his ghouls. He doesn't care for social gatherings and likes to keep himself to himself. He's fairly good at small talk but he absolutely hates it. When he was younger, Primo masked a lot. He tried to be outgoing, which was expected of him, especially because he was very open about his desire to be the frontman of the project. He'd finish each day absolutely exhausted. He'd have no energy to do the things he enjoyed, instead he spent a lot of time stuck in bed or dissociating in front of a mirror. It was only until he met his ghouls that he learnt how to take care of himself. His ghouls taught him about preserving his social battery, how to avoid burn out, and most importantly, that they care about him and are always happy to help him. Now that he's older, he's got a lot better at taking care of his wellbeing and asking for help when he needs it. His favourite part of getting old is that people don't care what he does or how he behaves as much as they did when he was younger. Now, when he spends all day in his greenhouse, no one questions what he's doing, or when he stares at the flames in his fireplace, people assume he's just doing 'generic old man things', whereas those close to him know that he's stimming.

Secondo

Secondo has very little problem with big social gatherings and loves to be the life and soul of the party. He loves meeting new people at parties too. Secondo has a hard time holding down relationships with people, both romantically and platonically. He loves having hookups though as it gives him a chance to be close to someone while them going separate ways afterwards is expected. Secondo is aroace, which usually shocks most people he tells. He does try to explain that his lack of sexual attraction doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy sex, and he enjoys doing romantic things even though he doesn't feel romantic attraction either, but people very rarely understand. Secondo likes being a sugar daddy. The rules and boundaries are very clear and he gets what he wants out of relationships without genuine romantic interest being expected. He also has a platonic partner who visits him on a schedule. They both organise what they're going to do when they next meet up a week in advance to give him plenty of time to prepare.

Terzo

Terzo masked HARD when he was younger. Nihil constantly made remarks about how he behaved, especially about how flamboyant he was. He was told off for being rude a lot, but used to get really annoyed when no one would explain what he'd actually done wrong. He spent a lot of time learning the 'correct' and 'acceptable' way to interact with people. Because of how much he masked, he was constantly burnt out and later developed depression and self worth issues. Terzo began to isolate himself. Like they asked, he stopped being loud, he stopped being flamboyant, and he stopped being rude. He actually stopped speaking all together. After all this, Sister and Nihil still seemed to have a problem with him. He didn't know what he was doing wrong. His self worth issues stayed with him the whole way through his life. Being dragged off stage was the final piece of proof he needed that he wasn't and never would be good enough for his parents or anyone.

Copia

Copia has always been the 'weird kid'. His obsession with rats was usually enough to put most people off. Unlike Terzo, a lot of Copia's behaviour was excused, so he never felt the need to mask. Terzo didn't particularly like Copia in the brief time they knew each other because of this. Copia picks up sarcasm and jokes with ease and both come very easily to him. On the other hand, social cues, having to read between the lines, and oftentimes, other people's innuendos go right over his head. He spends a lot of time in his room, not necessarily to avoid people but moreso for the fact he keeps all his favourite things in his room on display. Copia has a lot of sensory aversions. His costume designer and tailor have a list of fabrics they cannot use. Copia also has a lot of food aversions as he's really picky with textures. He has few safe foods, the large majority of them being pasta, pizza, and any beige carb. Copia is closer to his ghouls than any of the other Papas were. When he's feeling overstimulated, he has Aether 'squash his soul back into his body' by lying on him like a compression blanket. Copia's very open about his autism with his ghouls and they're all very supportive and mindful of him.

[erimeows]

Just A Prank

James Wilson finds himself flustered as he leans against the wall of the diagnostics conference room with two pairs of eyes piercing right through him; one dark blue and one dark brown. Chase sits on the edge of the large table while Foreman sits in House’s spinning chair. Cameron, who would usually put a stop to what is currently going on, is out sick with a stomach bug she caught from a patient, and House is… Well, House. It’s over half past noon but Wilson figures House will show up some time in the next hour

With the rare dynamic of just Chase, Foreman, and Wilson, odd things are bound to happen; such as Chase suggesting that Wilson randomly kiss House as some sort of… Prank. Were it anyone else being asked to do this, Wilson might encourage it. House isn’t used to any displays of affection these days, let alone used to being caught off guard by them, so someone walking up and kissing the guy without any warning would elicit a pretty good reaction. But Chase is insisting that he, James Wilson, be the one to do it- not Cameron or Foreman or Chase himself, because apparently, that would be wrong. No, it just has to be Wilson.

“And I have to be the one to do this because…?” 

“Kissing someone without their consent isn’t something that most people take kindly to,” Foreman points out.

“And you think he would take kindly to me doing it?” Wilson asks. “Also, I have to point out that it’s really not fair or correct to lump House into the category of ‘most people’.”

“I don’t think he’d ‘take kindly’ to it, per se, but you two already treat each other like that all the time,” Chase argues with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Weird pranks, crossing boundaries, doing things to each other that would normally be friendship ending… It’d just be a normal Tuesday for the two of you.”

“That… Is still totally inappropriate. I mean, romantic fraternization with other hospital employees. It’s technically against hospital policy. Everyone might’ve encouraged the date with Cameron, but that’s a little different than me just going up to the guy and kissing him,” Wilson continues, his face burning bright red.

On a normal day, he’s not so easy to read or so easy to embarrass, but he’s never been able to help it when it comes to House. The thought of kissing the man he’s been in love with since 1999 makes his head spin. He shouldn’t even entertain the thought, but with the ‘prank’ that Chase is suggesting, he does sort of have an excuse…

“What, like he’s gonna report you to Cuddy? If you don’t wanna do it, that’s fine, but at least make your excuse a believable one,” Foreman scoffs. “You know as well as we do that the man wouldn’t report someone to her unless they stole his Vicodin. Anything else is fair game to House.”

At that, Wilson stumbles over himself and nearly hits the floor. He doesn’t know what to say. With a sharp breath, he sits in the chair across from where Chase is on the tabletop and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That may be true, but-”

“And c’mon, it’ll be priceless!” Chase laughs with a mischievous grin. Part of Wilson wants to laugh along with him. The other half of him wants to reach across the conference room table and smack Chase in the head for coming up with something so stupid (and so tempting). “Don’t you want to see his face?”

“I can’t imagine how pissed he would be, so no, not really,” Wilson crosses his arms. He can feel his own gaze darting around the room, probably to avoid making eye contact with Foreman and Chase. “Where the hell did you two even get this idea?”

Wilson nervously paces the room, running his hands through his wavy brown hair. 

“It wasn’t my idea,” Foreman quickly spits out, dark brown eyes shooting to Chase, who offers a shrug in return.

“What can I say? I was thinking of more ways to screw with House and it was something that came to mind. I’d argue it’s one of my best ones yet.”

Wilson wants to do it. He’s been looking for an excuse to cross that line with House for years. He shouldn’t, because once he does it, there’s a chance he’ll never be able to go back. Better yet, there’s a chance Wilson will kiss House only for the older man not to give a shit anyways. That’s arguably the worst case scenario. Wilson knows that, if it were to happen, he wouldn’t be able to look House in the eye afterwards. Then, House would know. It would be a nightmare.

No matter how badly Wilson wants to grasp at this opportunity, he’s well aware it could backfire. He gathers what’s left of his willpower to refuse.

“No,” Wilson says, shaking his head.

He hopes that’ll be the end of it. Chase, however, remains persistent.

“Look, if Foreman and I aren’t enough to convince you, how about this? I’ll cover your clinic hours for a month.”

“I’m not House- I don’t mind working in the clinic and I’m caught up on my hours. It’s actually a nice reprieve from my day to day.”

With a sigh, Chase reaches into his wallet and pulls out two bills. He holds them out to Wilson. Foreman holds his head in his hands with an exasperated expression.

“...If covering your clinic hours isn’t enough to convince you, how about two hundred dollars?”

Wilson is an oncologist who makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. His debt from medical school is already paid off and he lives a comfortable life despite the three divorces and subsequent alimony payments he’s wracked up. Yet, with Chase so determined to convince him… No one can say he jumped at the opportunity to do this. House will probably just laugh it off- find it hilarious- love that someone was playing him at his own game by pulling a prank so inappropriate and controversial. It’ll be fine, and if it does go to shit, he can just pin the blame on Chase for coming up with the idea in the first place.

So, against his better judgment, Wilson agrees.

“Fine.”

He reaches out to take the money from Chase’s hand and shoves it into the front pocket of his white coat. 

“Where do you think he’s at, anyway? He’s usually late, but not this late,” Foreman stands and gestures to the clock on the wall. It’s already almost one in the afternoon. 

Knowing him, he’s probably in the cafeteria. He doesn’t have any cases today, so he showed up late to avoid clinic duty and made sure to time it so he wouldn’t get here until the start of his lunch break. He’s just using it to find out where Cuddy is so he can avoid her for the rest of his shift since she can’t make him work during his scheduled break,” Wilson explains. “If I were you guys, I wouldn’t count on seeing him much today.”

“Oh, I know we don’t have any cases, I didn't want to see him for work purposes. I’ve just gotta be there for the big moment,” Chase says while excitedly gathering his things so he can stand and head towards the door. “Well? What are we standing here for? Let’s go; to the cafeteria!”

“You know if he figures out you’re behind this, he’s going to have you covering his clinic hours and shining his shoes for the next year, right?” Foreman chuckles.

“Wait,” Wilson’s eyes flicker between Foreman and Chase, who are now standing by the door and peering back as if they’re waiting for him to join them. “You- you want me to go do this right now?”

“Yeah, duh,” Chase answers. “Now let’s go!”

Chase and Foreman both leave the conference room. Wilson, too stunned to respond, takes a moment to catch up and follow them to the cafeteria. When they arrive, it’s easy to spot House. The man is six foot two and gorgeous, so Wilson manages to pick him out of the crowd in seconds. 

House walks by himself in the middle of the cafeteria with a tray of food lazily held in one hand and his cane in the other. His narrow shoulders are adorned with one of the many t-shirts he’s stolen from Wilson and his favorite leather jacket. Wilson’s heart skips a beat when House smiles. The man is probably thinking about some interaction he’s had today where he’s fucked with someone- just for the fun of it. Wilson hates that he’s so in love with that antagonistic side of House, hates that he’s head over heels for House despite years of the older man meddling in his personal life, pulling shitty pranks on him, teasing him, and generally screwing with him at each and every turn.

Maybe this prank isn’t such a good idea. But, as nervous as Wilson is, even he can admit that House deserves to be the one being messed with for once.

“Oh, do you see him?” Foreman says.

“I do,” Chase pipes up and nudges Wilson’s side with his elbow. “Well, what are you waiting for? That money wasn’t for nothing- go for it!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You owe me twice as much if he starts beating me with his cane for pulling this crap while we’re at work,” Wilson grumbles.

He breaks away from Chase and Foreman and goes up to House, who catches his eye and offers a smile. Wilson forces himself to smile back as House meets him in the middle of the cafeteria with his tray still in hand. 

“Hey, Wilson,” House greets, a twinkle in his icy blue eyes. Wilson swallows the lump in his throat and stares back at his friend, who shamelessly eyes him up and down. “What, cat got your tongue? Or did you swallow sandpaper? Seriously, the face you’re making right now makes you look like a constipated-!”

Before House can finish, Wilson goes for it. He places his hands on House’s shoulders, screws his eyes shut, and gently presses his lips into House’s. The other man’s mouth tastes like coffee and Vicodin. It’s a bitter and terrible combination, but it’s House, and Wilson realizes that this may be the only chance he gets to experience it. He commits it to memory, savors it, loves it as if it’s the man himself.

Wilson expects House to pull away. It doesn’t happen. 

Fine enough- he figures it’s out of shock, and that House will pull away in a few moments. Wilson is proven wrong when he hears House’s lunch tray clatter to the floor. Surely then, House should retract to pick up the mess. Again, it doesn’t happen. 

His cane falls right after the tray, and Wilson gets ready to move, but he finds himself frozen in place when House grips him by the collar and drags him in to deepen the kiss. He moves his mouth against Wilson’s, chapped lips consuming the oncologist’s softer ones. 

Wilson is snapped out of it when he hears gasps and whispers in the cafeteria. He jerks back so he can look up at House. There’s no mirror around, but if there were, Wilson is sure he would see that his face has paled with horror. He can’t so much as make eye contact with House.

And for a moment, House appears smug; shit-eating grin, raised eyebrows, and that familiar darkness that takes over his gaze when he feels like he’s won something. However, that smugness is quickly washed away when House scans Wilson’s face. 

“It-” Wilson stutters, unsure of how to explain what he was doing or why he was doing it. Unsure of how to react to House kissing him. Unsure of why House kissed him back at all, but especially unsure of why House kissed him back so fast. He barely manages to force out the breathless words his brain jumbles together in its panicked state. “It was just a prank. Chase, he- he thought it would be a good way to mess with you, paid me two hundred dollars. I’ll give you the money, if you want…?”

The initial disappointment that laced House’s expression just seconds before transitions into hardened anger; the kind of ice-cold rage that he so brilliantly displays whenever he feels like he’s been betrayed by someone he trusted. It makes sense. Even in his anxious state, Wilson is thinking rationally enough to know he deserves it and should’ve expected it. After all, House has never taken well to any form of embarrassment. 

Without saying so much as a word, House retrieves his cane and swiftly turns to exit the cafeteria, leaving Wilson to pick up the mess of his lunch tray while everyone else stares holes into him.

~

The next day, Wilson is an anxious mess. He went to House’s office multiple times after lunch yesterday and couldn’t find the man. He called and sent multiple texts, and each and every one was ignored whether it was to House’s office phone, flip phone, or pager. He hasn’t been able to find House in any of the clinic rooms, in the conference room that the diagnostics team uses, or in any of the staff offices including his own, but he knows House is there as the team is apparently working on a new case. House has just done a masterful job of avoiding him specifically.

Wilson quickly comes to the conclusion that House is angry; justifiably so. On top of being kissed in a group full of their patients and colleagues, Wilson also accidentally rejected him in front of said people by jerking away from House’s kiss as if it were the plague and loudly announcing that his initiating of the kiss was just a prank. It’s a miracle the man didn’t quit on the spot and move across the country following that kind of humiliation, because Wilson knows he would have if it were him.

Wilson feels awful about it. All he wants to do is get a hold of House so they can talk in person and clear up this misunderstanding. House put himself out there by kissing Wilson back, pretty much confessed his feelings as eloquently as he could without using actual words, and Wilson went and fucked it up with his panicked response. 

The brunette is sitting in his office stewing about the kiss; partially wishing he hadn’t done it in the first place, partially praying for it to happen again. He has a thousand things he should be doing instead; writing a speech for an upcoming conference, emailing patients, looking at lab results for said patients, scheduling consults. Sadly, all he can focus on is House and how badly he wants to find the diagnostician and confess his feelings before this situation can get any worse. 

Poor Cameron returned to work today and is clearly uncomfortable with the tension, Chase is amused by the whole thing to an annoying degree, and Foreman is so clearly fed up with all of them. Wilson wishes things would go back to normal- or at least not be like this any longer. It’s only been one day and he’s already exhausted by it.

He has a lunch tray sitting in front of him with a bag of chips and a scrambled egg bowl that he’s hardly picked at. In front of him also sits his laptop, which is opened to show his emai inbox. Before Wilson can start sifting through said emails, the glass door to his office is slammed open so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter and break. He looks up to see House, who angrily hobbles in.

If the situation weren’t so tense, he’d find the whole thing comical; House’s evident anger, House’s childish avoidance of him, the fact that they kissed in the middle of the cafeteria.

“So, it was just a prank,” House says, his tone accusatory.

“Uh,” Wilson nods, takes a sip from his water bottle, and clears his throat. “Yeah. Why did you kiss me back?”

“Well,” House scoffs, eyes darting around the room. He stands in front of Wilson’s desk and impatiently taps his cane against the floor; something he does when he’s trying to come up with an excuse for something. As per usual when he’s been rejected or perceives a discussion as a conflict, he goes on the defensive. “Obviously, I was just playing into the bit. That’s all it was, right? A joke?”

“House, you don’t have to lie. The cat’s out of the bag for both of us now so it’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you to-”

“Now give me the chips on your tray,” House huffs and walks behind Wilson’s desk to stand right next to where he’s sitting. He snatches the chip bag off of the lunch tray in front of Wilson but remains standing so close that Wilson can smell the sandalwood laundry detergent he uses wafting off of his outfit. “I’ve got a case to work on, and this one isn’t a cancer patient, so it has nothing to do with you.”

“But I-” Wilson objects in hopes that House will listen to him enough for them to talk this through, only to quickly be interrupted.

“One more thing,” House pauses.

Wilson is optimistic that they’ll finally get to talk like he’s been wanting. Instead, House puts the chips down, grabs Wilson by the tie, and yanks him up for a kiss. Wilson barely has the time to register the taste of toothpaste and breath mints prior to House pulling away and taking the chip bag back from the desk.

“What the hell-”

“Oh, sorry about that! Try not to get your hopes up or anything,” House says in a mocking tone and feigns a pitying expression as he briskly heads towards the glass door with his cane in one hand and Wilson’s stolen chip bag in the other. “After all, it was just a prank.”

And then, House is gone.

Wilson slumps down into his office chair and lets out a long, heavy sigh. As tempting as it is, it’s best not to chase after House in the middle of the hospital- the jackass will embarrass him someway, somehow. His dark brown eyes land on his now half-empty lunch tray, and then on his open laptop.

“Fucking breath mints… He planned to catch me off guard by coming in here and pulling that, didn’t he? …God, I’ve got so much to do.”

~

Another day passes with no progress. Wilson was hoping the situation would smooth itself out naturally, but it seems as if House is still equally as pissed as he was the afternoon Wilson kissed him in the cafeteria, so he decides he’ll simply have to find House and sort it out himself. 

Wilson knows better than to try and do this honestly. House raged and ran out on him at the hospital the other day, and then avoided him and treated him like shit yesterday. Every call and every text from Wilson has been ignored while House’s team says he’s still responding to them as usual.

So, Wilson brings a box with him to House’s apartment complex. He knocks on House’s door, sets the box down, and quickly hides a few feet away to avoid being seen through House’s peephole. The moment House opens the door to retrieve the surprise ‘package’, Wilson approaches. House quickly scoffs and tries to retreat inside to shut the door, but before he can pull it all the way closed, Wilson blocks it with his foot.

“Nice trick, Jimmy. If I weren’t filled with such unbridled rage and disdain for you right now, I might be impressed. Did you forget you have a spare key?”

“Okay, House,” Wilson starts. He doesn’t bother acknowledging House’s quip about the spare key that was, in fact, forgotten on his keychain. “You’ve been avoiding me and I think we’re just a tad overdue for a nice, long talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? You kissed me and I kissed you back. You’re not stupid, Wilson,” House rolls his eyes. Realizing that Wilson isn’t going to give up, House swings the door open and stares down at him. Wilson shrinks into himself. While House’s face doesn’t betray his emotions, his hands certainly do. One of them is gripping the doorknob so hard that his knuckles are burning white, while the other is braced against the wall his cane is propped up on. He’s upset; angry, still. “You know how I feel now. There’s no need for an exchange of words.”

“W-Well, I-”

“I can’t even be mad at you, you know. That’s the worst part,” House rambles. Without any indication that he’s going to do so, he storms into his living room, leaving the door wide open. Wilson takes it as an invitation and slinks into the apartment where he shuts the door behind him and takes his shoes off at the entryway. House continues his rant and plops down onto his brown leather couch. “Going and kissing someone as a prank- if I would’ve been in your shoes with Chase telling me to do something like that, I would’ve done it to fuck with you without getting paid. I would’ve jumped at the idea, reveled in it, found it fucking hilarious!”

Wilson blinks, still standing awkwardly in the middle of House’s entryway. 

“Then why are you so mad?”

“Because I loved it! I stood there and made out with you like a teenager in the middle of the cafeteria,” House pauses, shakes his head, and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. “...And I loved it. You know I haven’t been able to solve the case we got yesterday morning because of you? Chase solved it before I did! All because I’ve been letting my brain rot by using it to replay that moment over and over again, thinking of what I could’ve done differently to save myself that kind of embarrassment. I kissed you back, only for the whole thing to be a fucked up joke. Do you know how that feels?”

“You’re saying all of this as if I didn’t also enjoy it,” Wilson spits. To his utter dismay and frustration, House’s icy blue eyes narrow in suspicion. The damn idiot doesn’t believe a word he’s saying; the kiss, the prank, it’s broken the trust that they so blindly had in each other before it happened. It’s turned their entire world upside down. “Seriously, House, you think I would’ve kissed you for enough money even if I really didn’t want to do it?”

“I don’t know what to think,” House whispers, low, almost as if he’s talking to himself. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at the ground. His cane is haphazardly dropped on the floor in front of his bare feet. “I never thought you’d kiss someone at your job like that, much less me, and yet…”

“I’d kiss you in front of just about anyone if you’d let me. Maybe I just like you that much,” Wilson offers. He manages to muster up a smile along with the courage to look House in the eye again. As House stops to process what he’s just said, Wilson slowly walks over and sits next to him on the couch. “And… Maybe the prank was an excuse to kiss you, just to see what it’d be like. I never imagined you’d reciprocate. I panicked and didn’t know what to do because I was caught off guard. Before I did it, I mulled it over and came to the conclusion you’d find the whole thing hilariously disgusting, assume it was just for the money, and we’d never talk about it again. I guess I only got one of those things right.”

“Your deduction skills aren’t the best. They never have been,” House snarks. The anger seems to leave his body as he deeply inhales and exhales. His arms fall into his lap, and much to Wilson’s relief, he smiles back. “At first, I hoped it was a genuine gesture. It’s out of character for you to act out something so dramatic in public, but I’ve felt this way for such a long time that I got my hopes up, so when you panicked… Well, I’m sure you get it.”

“Yeah,” Wilson nods and reaches out to hold one of House’s hands. Surprisingly, it’s the first time they’ve done this, but House intertwines their fingers as if it’s natural for them. Wilson could get used to the warmth that comes from House’s calloused thumb gently stroking the back of his hand. “I think I do, but… It was wrong of me to agree to do that in the middle of the cafeteria for my own selfish reasons. I should’ve manned up and told you how I felt on my own instead of using that stupid prank Chase came up with as an excuse to kiss you and gauge your reaction.”

“I’m not going to deny that. Still, though, are we going to sit here and pretend like I didn’t deserve it to some extent? I know I’ve run you through the wringer for a long time, Wilson,” House laughs and leans back into the couch, eyes now trained on the ceiling above them. “I’m sure the sadistic part of you that you refuse to admit is there got some sort of satisfaction out of making me miserable for a day or two.”

“Not really,” Wilson chuckles. House is staring at him now. It looks like he wants something- maybe like he wants Wilson to say something specific- but Wilson isn’t sure what it is. “I wanted to shock you, maybe, not make you scorch-the-earth pissed for two days. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Well,” House smirks, icy blue eyes flickering to Wilson’s lips and then back up to meet the brunette’s gaze. “I do have one idea, but I’m afraid you may not be comfortable doing it without an audience; say, a cafeteria full of our patients and coworkers.”

Wilson scoffs and rolls his eyes, a fond smile taking over his face. He scoots closer to House and places his spare hand on the man’s thigh.

“Fortunately for you, I’m afraid you’re wrong- and yes, you are capable of being wrong.”

“Really? Then prove it.”

“Fine.”

With that, Wilson leans in and kisses House once again, the two men struggling not to grin against each other’s lips.

[zootopiathingz]

If you really think about it, the ship where Alastor would be involved in that would most likely be canon so far would be Charlastor.

I mean, he despises Lucifer and sees Vox as not worth his time, so he's not gonna be throwing himself all over them anytime soon. Nearly everyone he interacts with besides the three women he's friends with, he's either indifferent, respectable or hostile to, but towards Charlie? This man has allowed her to touch him without permission, stated multiple times that he has faith in her beliefs and even handed her his source of power. Twice.

I'm aware he's doing all this with some underlying motive, but you can't deny he won't do all this for just anyone. I really can't imagine him all comfortably curled up in Angel's bed or getting handsy with Lucifer (He wipes his hands after touching him, man really doesn't like him at all). I support all ships with Alastor but if we're looking at this at a canon perspective, Alastor interacts with Charlie the most and will continue to interact with her as the show goes on, it's more possible to happen in a sense with Alastor.

Plus with all the romantic cues the show has (Unintentionally?) given so far, with the part where both Charlie and Alastor are laying on the heart shaped pillow but Charlie falls off the bed while Alastor remains on top off it, it seems that there could be a very small possibility that there might be an unrequited crush on Alastor's part.

Yeah, it's a stretch, but hey, he didn't have to lay in that bed. He could have stayed standing, looming over Charlie to show that he might be helping her but he still sees himself as above her and in control of the situation. But! Someone still animated him on that bed! They still animated him on that heart shaped pillow right beside Charlie! They didn't have to, but they still did and my minds still reeling after that fact.

No because you’re absolutely correct here.

Out of any of the characters in the series for Alastor to end up with, if he were to have a romantic subplot of any kind, it would be Charlie. They have the most potential together as a pairing and there have been so many little hints and visual cues that I’m honestly shocked that a romance plot isn’t where their relationship is going.

I genuinely cannot see Alastor ever engaging in anything romantic or physical with Vox or Lucifer in any way. And whenever I say that people like to excuse me of hating gay ships (which I clearly don’t. I am queer, and I love seeing queer ships that actually make sense and have good chemistry, and not just because they’re gay). It’s because he canonly hates men and is much kinder towards women—except for Vaggie lol. Yes, ship Alastor with whoever you want. It’s not my place to tell you if your ship is bad or not. I honestly don’t care because it’s your opinion and as long as you’re having fun with it, that’s all that matters!

But like anon is saying here, if we’re looking at it from a canon viewpoint, let’s think about it. Again, Alastor clearly doesn’t like men and can’t even be bothered to shake Lucifer’s hand without being disgusted. There have been three women who could be potential love interests. First is Mimzy, which I can see there may have been some flirtation here and there in the past, or even an unrequited crush on her part. But with her basically using him to get her out of trouble all the time, I can’t see them going beyond their on-and-off friendship. Then there’s Rosie, who he’s obviously very comfortable around and lets her touch and grab him as she pleases—which he wouldn’t let slide with any male characters in the show. And the Radiorose ship is cute I admit, but to me they’re a pair of gossip buddies who would maybe pretend to be in a relationship if needed, but otherwise their feelings don’t go any further than platonic.

And so that leaves us with Charlie. When I first watched the pilot I absolutely assumed they were going to have some kind of slow burn, not only because the idea of the princess of Hell and this feared Radio Demon falling for each other is so intriguing, but generally just the way they acted with each other. In like a span of eight minutes they were happily dancing together, with Alastor calling her one of a kind, tossing her around and making improvements to her dream hotel.

You can imagine how surprised I was when I found out they weren’t canon and weren’t going to be in the actual show. Like, I was legit going “🤨🤨🤨” and this was before I was even in the fandom lmao

And thank you so much for mentioning that scene in her bedroom because…

What is this. What do you mean the mfs making this show drew out this scene, carefully looked at every detail for the final product, and went “yup👍” if there wasn’t supposed to be something more going on here???

Like seriously if you’ve never watched this episode and you saw these two frames, what exactly would you assume is going on here? Be honest with me

But ya know, charlastor “isn’t canon” (so they say🙄) so the animators here were def trolling us lol

[eyesofshinigami]

Three Little Words

Rating: T

CW: none

Tags: Established relationship, tiny bit of angst, kisses

Prompt: For @quinns-shadowy-arts "Love is saying 'I love you' even when you're scared"

WC: 1091

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21

Three little words. 

Three little words that burned like acid on his tongue when he tried to say them. Three little words that he knew he felt, every single time his heart beat in a rhythm of Steve, Steve, Steve, but he couldn’t make himself say. It was just three little words. Three little words that he knew his boyfriend wanted to hear more than anything.

They both bore scars from those three, simple little words. Steve’s parents used them in a lofty, detached sort of way, trotted out for appearances just like the nice china. Eddie’s parents wielded them like a weapon, his father using them as an excuse for why he behaved the way he did. The old “I only do this because I love you” that Eddie learned very early in life had absolutely nothing to do with those three little words.

It had taken Eddie a very long time to even be open to the possibility of saying them to someone else. Even with Wayne, his father in everything but blood, never got to hear them out of his mouth. Wayne didn’t say them much either, had other ways to show it than speaking it out loud.

The problem was, Eddie really wanted to say them out loud. He wanted to croon them in Steve’s ear when they were pressed together in bed, or whisper them into his mouth during a good night kiss, or even whisper them into Steve’s skin when they were both shaking in bed from nightmares of the horrors they’d seen. His chest ached with it, but his stubborn mouth refused. 

So, he threw himself into showing Steve. Night drives together, cuddling in the van, making love in one of their beds until neither of them could stand it, falling asleep together after… all of these things painted the picture of what he wanted to say, but he knew it wasn’t enough. 

He needed to say them. He just didn’t know how.

“How do you tell someone you… you know…” Eddie asked one day when he and Wayne were sitting outside, smoking together. It was a warm, clear night, the stars winking above them. 

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t know. Mostly because I have no idea what you’re trying to ask me, son.” He took a drag from his cigarette. “Is this about Steve? Are you trying to break up with him?”

Eddie spluttered. The very idea made his heart feel like it was going to fall right out of his chest. “What the fuck, no! The opposite! I want to tell Steve that… you know…” Just say it. It’s right there. Just say it, you fucking coward. 

“Ah. You want to tell Steve you love him,” Wayne said after a moment. 

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah. I just… you know… can’t. I try to say it but it’s like my brain won’t let me.”

Wayne let out a sigh and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray by the bench. “I get it. Sometimes it can be hard, especially after what you kids went through.” He sighed, rubbing his chin. “But I think you should just try. Steve’ll get it.”

Eddie nodded, but it didn’t stop the angry swirl of his stomach or the burn on the back of his tongue. 

–

He waited until the next night, after he’d picked Steve up. They grabbed some fast food and drove out to the quarry, parking and opening up the van. It was another nice night, the half moon blazing bright in the night sky. Perfect night for a little romantic rendezvous. 

“This is nice,” Steve said, pulling out their burgers and fries. “It’s nice to be able to hear myself think after being around the kids all day.” He popped a fry in his mouth and then leaned over, pressing a greasy kiss to Eddie’s mouth. 

It should have been gross, but all it did was make that feeling in his chest grow stronger, the need build higher. Fuck, it shouldn’t be so hard, but Eddie was terrified. What if Steve didn’t feel the same? What if he used it against him, just like his dad had? What if, what if, what if…

“Eds? You okay?” Steve asked, breaking Eddie out of his spiraling thoughts. His brow was furrowed and the corners of his mouth were turned down. “Do we need to go?”

Eddie shook his head, trying to gather every ounce of courage he had. Three little words. That’s all it was. “No, I’m good. I just… I really need to tell you something.”

Steve kept frowning, sitting back. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I just… Steve…I…”

“If you’re going to break up with me, can you please just get it over with?” Steve said sadly, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Why does everyone keep thinking that? No, Steve. I love you, why would I break up with you?” 

It got so quiet, Eddie was pretty sure he’d be able to hear a pin drop. That wasn’t quite how he’d planned to say it, but now it was out there. Nothing he could do now. “Steve?”

Steve looked back at him, pretty mouth dropped open and his eyes sparkling, just like the stars above them. “You love me? You mean it?”

Eddie felt his whole body soften. He could still feel them there, burning in the back of his throat, but that feeling was being overtaken by the way his stomach fluttered, how pretty Steve’s blush looked under the moonlight. “Of course I do. I just… those words are hard to say, you know?”

Fingers entwined with his own and pulled him close, Steve breathing against his mouth from where their foreheads were pressed together. “I do. Thank you for saying them. I thought so, but… you know I love you too, right?” At Eddie’s nod, Steve continued, “I didn’t want to say them first, either. The last time, it kind of blew up in my face, but… I’ve felt it for months now. You’re kind of it for me, you know?”

“I do,” Eddie replied, grinning so wide his face hurt a little. “I’m sorry I was scared to say it.”

“I was too. But now we don’t have to be. That was the hard part.” Steve closed that last little bit to kiss Eddie again, deeper and sweeter than the last one. It felt good. It felt right. It felt like nothing was ever going to be the same again, in the best way.

It felt like those three little words.

[sleeplessdreamer123]

Fanfic Idea! (Lucemond, modern-ish au, where the dominoes fall)

Aemond wasn't coming home tonight. Again. Lucerys felt stupid for even thinking Aemond would remember their anniversary. He quietly blew the candles he had lit and re-lit hours ago and placed the food in the fridge. He looked in the mirror, seeing himself dressed up in a beautiful green dress with a surprise lingerie underneath that Aemond would have no doubt loved, wearing the soft make-up Aemond told him he adored. He felt stupid all over again.

So to make the sting hurt less, he opted to open the bottle of the expensive wine they were given on their wedding day. It was strong, a bit sweet with a bitter aftertaste. He ignored the glasses and just chugged a quarter of it down straight from the bottle before stopping, the burning was strong from his throat to his chest. He sat on the floor of their bedroom next to their bed, well, just his bed most of the times. He honestly didn't know what to do anymore.

Like most couples, they weren't immune to fights and disputes and problems, and one of their more recent fights happened when Lucerys asked him to take some time off his busy schedule and be with him, go in their beach house, relax back home in Driftmark. Apparently, that set off a bomb, because Aemond snapped hard and an argument ensued. Yes, Lucerys knows that the project was important to Aemond since it was the first time Viserys ever entrusted anything of that importance to him. Yes, he knows that Aemond needed to prove to his family that he can manage such a project, that they could trust that he do well with the opportunity given to him. Yes, he knows it might be the only chance he gets to have a shot at being given at least a portion of the company. But what about them, their relationship?

They haven't seen each other in weeks, almost a month, Aemond too busy to even return home at times, and Lucerys, also dealing with the affairs of his own company. Both are tired, barely even saying anything to each other, other than a few I love you's, good mornings and goodbyes. Lucerys misses his husband, and thought he needed a break. Apparently, Aemond took it as Lucerys not believing he could do it. Lucerys knows of Aemond's insecurity issues, and did his best to show him that no, he knows Aemond can do it, that he was already doing great so far, it was just that Lucerys wanted both of them to feel relaxed and happy, to have some time for themselves.

Aemond was still frustrated, telling him that he wouldn't get it, that he was given everything in a silver platter and didn't need to fight for what he has. That offended Lucerys, who had to make sure everything was running smoothly because he can't afford a mistake, lest Vaemond uses it as an example of why he didn't deserve the company. Round after round of arguments, silent treatments, and when they finally did talk, they both apologized, the words too heated, both were tired and it was a slip of the tongue, and Aemond did tell him he, too, missed being together, just the two of them enjoying each other's presence, without work in their minds.

So they compromised, and everything seemed to go smoothly. Aemond even got what he wanted, moving up in the company and getting the praise Lucerys knows he deserved. Then he began overworking again, then Lucerys calls him out with the amount of plans he had to cancel because Aemond had work to do, and they argue. Then they apologize, make excuses, fix their schedule, and so on and so forth, the cycle neverending.

And it seemed Aemond decided to break his promise again. Lucerys knows it's not fair of him to think Aemond would drop everything to be with Lucerys all the time, especially since he has a lot to lose, just as Lucerys does, but he was able to do it, to prepare in advance, to finish his work early, to come home and prepare dinner, to dress up nicely and to set the mood for a romantic night. Just to be stood up again.

And honestly, he was getting tired of it. Tired of having to plan for special days only to have to cancel it, tired of feeling excited only to be met with disappointment when met with the usual text (or lack thereof). He was tired of spending too much energy trying to keep their relationship a happy one, only to be met with the "I'm busy's", and the "next time's". Honestly, it was foolish of him to think their anniversary would be different, I mean, he didn't even come to his own private birthday party, and Lucerys had to embarrassingly explain to both their parents and siblings why the birthday celebrant wasn't able to make it to his own birthday party, even after learning how to bake the cake, prepare his favorite meals, and even brought out a couple of movies Aemond enjoyed watching after. He forced himself to enjoy the party, and gave most of what he made to his family, insisting that they won't be able to finish it all anyway. Most of the family seemed to be showing varying degrees of pity, even Alicent, who really disliked their marriage, seemed to hesitate saying anything negative towards him that day.

As Lucerys drank away his blues, he can hear the rustling of keys. He was surprised Aemond even decided to return home. He can hear the door opening, knowing it revealed petals guiding him to their dining table with the unlit candles and the untouched dinner plates. He heard the quiet curse, before the footsteps got louder. Then the door opened, and Lucerys glanced at him, red faced, office clothes a bit untidy, most likely from running, with what looked to be flowers in his hand, and a box of cake he knows would be lemon cake on the other.

If it was the past, Lucerys would just laugh and gladly accept the obviously last minute preparation, now Lucerys just stares at him oddly, before drinking straight from the bottle again. He stood up unsteadily, took the flowers and the cake, and lead them to the sad dining table. Aemond tried to grab the lighter to re-light the candle, but Lucerys just told him it wasn't needed. Lucerys didn't bother getting their dinner out of the fridge, saying they should just skip to dessert. He cut the cake and placed two small pieces on their plates. Aemond tried talking, making excuses, and Lucerys just hummed, not really listening anymore. They soon stayed silent and finished up the cake. Lucerys couldn't even taste it, he just ate mechanically.

Aemond volunteered to clean up, and Lucerys just nodded, the wine making him sleepy. He just went to the bathroom and wiped off the make up, stripped and changed the lingerie to more comfortable sleepwear. By the time Aemond was done, Lucerys was already in bed, looking away from Aemond's side of the bed.

He silently changed and laid down next to him, seemingly hesitated before hugging him. Lucerys does nothing, neither accepting nor rejecting.

When Aemond whispered a "Happy Anniversary", Lucerys quietly allowed tears to fall, letting his tired self succumb to sleep.

--------

Exams were brutal, therefore 'tis time to make it everyone's problem😌

[apples-and-heartbreak]

I feel like when I’m reading or watching something, for me to like a hero, they have to

1) have ambition about anything

2) not be annoying

3) not excuse their shitty behaviour with their shitty childhood

4) not be so self-righteous they don’t see their own flaws

For these reasons I hate with a burning passion Jace Herondale, Clary Fairchild, Eli Ever, Tiberius “Cal” Calore VIII, Dean Winchester, and Legend/Dante Santos

Jace is constantly doing something shitty in every book and people don’t care and they just put up with it for some reason. In CoG he belittles Clary because he wants to push her away but keeps coming back to her. He also keeps coming onto Clary when he thought she was his sister and said that cursed sentence in CoG that I need to bleach from my brain. I know if he said that shit to me I would’ve punched him in his stupid face cuz who does he think he is? He mocks the werewolves after they lost a child in their pack, he’s just awful to Alec at times, he doesn’t seem to understand there are consequences to his actions and just does shit because he wants to. He had the emotional maturity of a dried up pinecone.

Clary also does so much shit and people don’t call her out because she’s the protagonist and she just lets Jace do whatever to her because he’s hot. Girl please get a grip. She slut shames Izzy because apparently women aren’t allowed to have a sex life or wear revealing clothing 😒 girl you kissed someone you thought was YOUR BROTHER!! She dated Simon to get over Jace and then kissed Jace in the Seelie Court, and repeatedly thought about Jace in a romantic sense WHILE she thought they were SIBLINGS! I can’t.

Eli is so self-righteous, annoying and hypocritical. He uses God and religion as an excuse to kill innocent people which is just disgusting. Like I get that he thinks being an EO changed a person because Victor became different but he is an EO himself and he just takes it on himself to murder innocent people for simply existing.

Cal has no desire to do anything, at least up to the beginning of King’s Cage he doesn’t (where I currently am). He knows how poorly the Reds are being treated and he doesn’t want to change anything because (and I’m paraphrasing) there would be outrage among the Silvers and a war would break out. Bitch you are already at war! He’s the reason why so many innocent young Reds have lost their lives fighting in a war they have no say in. He sees the Scarlet Guard killing Silvers and he doesn’t try to stop them. He sulks and whines but doesn’t take any real action, which he could if he actually wanted to. He stalks around the camp like Mare’s dog and thinks he’s better than everyone.

Dean Winchester is an abusive asshole. He locked Sam in the cellar when he was addicted to demon blood when he knew the withdrawal could kill him. He shit on Sam for being manipulated. He’s made horrible perverted jokes about women, might I remind y’all of the high school episode (he was at least 26 at the time). He guilted Sam for leaving him in Hell and Purgatory when he did THE EXACT SAME THING when Same went to the cage. He threatened Kaia, a teenager at gun point for his own selfish purposes. He abused Jack til the very end, yelling that he wasn’t family when Jack had sacrificed his soul and life for the Winchesters, and made Jack hate himself for being born. He was shitty to Cas in so many seasons and didn’t care that Cas just went through seeing his son die and wasn’t able to save him. He violated Sam’s body by tricking him into letting Gadreel in which led to the death of Kevin and had the audacity to think he was wronged.

Dante is shit. Julian, his brother, lived with him for centuries, followed him wherever he went and loved him unconditionally. All Julian asked was for Dante to love him back, which he never did. When Julian finally found someone who loved him, Dante made fun of him. And then in the next book he gives up his immortality for Tella, a girl he has known for literal months at most. He didn’t love his brother, who has been with him since the beginning, enough to give up his immortality but he loved this random girl he has known for a couple months at most to give it all up?? Tella should’ve left him in the dust just like she did Jacks and went off on adventures by herself and met someone that wasn’t a twat.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

May I?

Note: First of all, I want to apologize to @okaywwaitwhat (if it's you who send the request) because I lived under the impression that I've posted your request and now as I've scrolled through my blog it was nowhere to be found. So again, sorry if you thought I forgot about you. Even with delay, I hope you nejoy it 😅

Second, I don't know who this beatiful piece of artwork belongs to, but Tumblr ran out of decent vhd gifs, so...

prompt no. 14 “You smiled! I saw it, so no denying it.”

prompt no. 19 “Oh, your smile is so beautiful I would love to see it more often.”

D watched your hands sliding over the blade of the sword. Its handle rested in one of your palms while the other ran an oil-soaked cloth over it. The task was performed with almost religious reverence. Your eyes were trained on the blade so you didn’t notice D watching your every move. How you acquired the Blade of Alucard was still a mystery to him. However, he did not ask you how the sword found its way into your hands, and neither he told you about its origins. That fact still burned at the pit of his stomach, but he knew he made a good decision at leaving it in your care. After all, you needed a suitable weapon to defend yourself with when traveling with him.

„Zippy? Can you hand me the other rag? The dry one.“ You extend your arm towards him without raising your eyes from the sword.

Ah, the nickname you gave him. He remembers how you decided on it like it was yesterday. You insisted he gave you his real name, thinking it was some sort of nickname. When he told you that’s all he’s ever been called, you frowned and told him one letter is not a name and he should have a real one. Shortly after, you came up with the cheeky title Zippy. D wasn’t sure it was even a word. Just another one of your peculiarities. The teasing nickname stuck and now whenever he hears it, he accepts it as his second name.

His name was another thing you’ve claimed as your own. Before he met you, he was just a test subject D, but now he was Zippy. Despite himself, D found a sense of pride in it, no matter how silly the name was. A year ago, he would be annoyed if you’d called him that. Now he felt a strange warmth every time he heard it. There was no use to fight it. You’ve wormed yourself inside the vampire hunter’s heart and there was no coming back, not that D wanted to return to his old, lonely days. Human lifespans are so short, they are like the blink of an eye compared ti his. He wants to cherish the time he has with you while he still can. To hear his name spill from your lips again and again.

„D? Don’t be a slacker.“

The hunter’s shoulders jerked. He got so lost in the thoughts of you, his hands remained still in your burlap. With warmth on his cheeks, he pulled the cloth out of the bag and handed it to you. He made sure your fingers brushed, running the pads of his fingers over your palm, much warmer than his. D noticed he’s been doing that often lately. Finding all the smallest ways and excuses to touch you. At first, he tried to justify these actions to himself as well.

The space is too small, he can’t help it. He told himself as he pressed closer to you in a cleft of a mountain you’ve hidden. Your pulse needs to be checked often, you are sick. He told himself as he held your hand while you were sleeping away the illness. He needs to make sure the breastplate fits you perfectly. He told himself as he ran his hands over your arms and sides. So on and so on. And you, sweet and ignorant you, are so assured he could never, ever see you romantically, or anyone for that matter, that you let him do whatever he wished.

His latest temerity resurfaced when training you in swordsmanship. Unbeknownst to you, he showed you all the tricks and stances taught to him by the Great Ancestor himself. You were a quick learner, and D was proud of your progress. As he guided your hands into a proper position, D put his hands over your hips as he told you to go looser in the knees. Then, he use one of his legs to spread yours more apart. By the time he realized what he was doing, you were already looking at him with bewilderment in your eyes. Ugh. The shame.

„There! All done. What do you think?“ Thankfully, you ripped him from his flustered musings. D lifted his head from behind the dark curtain of his hair and inspected you closely. You were holding the golden sword in front of you with the utmost delicacy, the blade glinting in the autumn sun. Each nook and crevice was expertly polished and D nodded with a pleased hum. He would never think that a playful trickster like you would take your sword fighting lessons and the artillery maintenance this seriously.

„D, you’re smiling.“ He could hear the laughter in your voice. The vampire hunter winced, he hadn’t realized that a small smile was forming on his face. D looked away in embarrassment. You don’t need to make a deal out o fit. „Nonsense.“ The more he denied it, the more he felt his mouth twitching. „You smiled! I saw it, so there’s no denying it.“ You set down the sword and crawl on all four toward him. Meanwhile, D crawling backward to escape your inquiry. That effort was quickly squished down when his back was met with a stone wall. Before he had a chance to roll sideways, you slid between his knees and brought your wide grin toward his face. Your happiness was contagious, so D gave up on trying to fight it, and closed his eyes whilst letting a small smile form on his lips. Truly, you live to tease him, don’t you?

„Oh, your smile is so beautiful I would love to see it more often.“

When he opened his eyes in surprise, you had this soft, warm look instead of your usual cheek. Your face was so close, you were radiating life and warmth and life like the sun itself. And just like the sun, you had the ability to bring him to his knees. The vampire hunter was so lost in the depth of your eyes that he hadn’t even noticed one of his hands inching towards your face. You noticed it sooner than him but were so shocked that you kept still. The moment is akin to wild deer making its way toward you. Slowly, D’s knuckles slid across your cheek, a whisper of a touch, while he haven’t taken his eyes from yours.

The only movement on your body was the wild beating of your heart, which was thumping so fiercely against your chest that you suspected it wants to jump out of your chest and into D’s arms. Painfully slowly you raised your hand and grasped the dhampir’s one still resting on your face, simply clutching his appendages with your smaller ones, keeping your eyes trained on his.

The first one to snap out of this weird trance was D. He jerked his hand away as if it burned him and stood up.

„Ahem- That’ll be enough training for today. Get some rest, I’ll keep watch.“

Without waiting for your answer, the hunter put the hat on his head and stomped away. All you could do was watch him as millions of thoughts swirled inside your head. Did that really just happen??

[thebettybook]

Dance with me at the Spider-Society Soirée

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Characters: Miguel O’Hara x Spider-hero!fem!reader. Miguel and reader aren’t in an established romantic relationship but they have a crush on each other.

Part 2 Summary: It’s the night of the Spider-Society Soirée, and Miguel showed up! He can’t seem to find reader anywhere, but when he finally sees reader…well, just read to find out ;)

Warning: ATSV spoilers ahead! Other than that, an all-fluff story

Spanish used: “Qué maravilla” (“How wonderful”), “Por el amor de Dios” (“For the love of God”; I used SpanishDict)

Strawbetty’s notes: I used Miguel’s “Qué maravilla” (“How wonderful”) line from the ATSV movie in my fic because how could I not?? Also, I’ll be releasing Part 3 (the last part) in an hour!! :D

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 {below} | Part 3

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Part 2: The Soirée

7 p.m., June 30.

The gold and lavender rays of the sunset stretched across Nueva York, seeping through the glass panels of the Spider-HQ Lobby.

Hundreds of thousands of Spiders lounged about, decked out in their best formal attire for once rather than their Spider suits, as they filled up the whole lobby with their chatter and laughter.

Despite all their individual formal attire, the accessory almost every attendee had in common was the shock they wore on their faces when they saw their one and only stoic leader in attendance. Some even deigned to check him out.

Miguel was dressed to the nines (or to the 2099’s) in a fitted noir tuxedo that didn’t fail to accentuate his tall stature and bulging muscles. His dark-brown hair kept its usual style of being swept back to both sides of his face with his widow’s peak ever prominent.

A gold bow tie rested comfortably at the bottom of his neck, just a bit above a white dress shirt he wore underneath the tuxedo blazer. Other than his ebony dress shoes, the only accessory Miguel had was his dimension travel watch.

Miguel loomed over most of the Spiders despite standing at the back near the refreshments table, which did have trays of freshly-made empanadas with various fillings (just like you said, much to his discreet pleasure).

It wasn’t even five minutes into the event that he received a boatload of compliments from practically everyone in attendance. While his ears burned at the unwanted attention, Miguel’s brick-like posture and passive expression continued to contrast the lively movements from everyone else.

Miguel wished LEGO Spider-Man—who rested on his shoulder briefly—was still with him. However, the tiny sentient block of a hero already excused himself to socialize with the other Spiders. Miguel even wished he had at least Jessica Drew to talk to about business, but Jess didn’t attend the soirée to rest at home in her dimension for the evening.

Miguel’s crimson orbs sailed the sea of Spiders again—hoping to catch a glimpse of you but to no avail (there were just so many Spiders)—before he fixed his orbs on the left sleeve of his tuxedo jacket just above his dimension travel watch.

He fiddled with his watch, checking if there were any updates that would hopefully allow him to slip away from the soirée.

“Lyla, remember to alert me right away if anything happens,” Miguel’s eyelids fluttered shut for just a nanosecond in annoyance at the fact that some people were still checking him out. He reopened his eyes when a flash of gold greeted him. “Wait, what are you wearing?”.

The AI, who usually appeared in a fur mink coat and collared dress, was now decked out in a fancy white sleeveless floor-length dress. With her signature transparent pink heart sunglasses and a hot pink feather boa around her shoulders, Lyla struck a dramatic pose as if she was walking the red carpet.

“What? You think you’re the only one who gets to dress up for this event?” Lyla fluffed her ginger bob with both hands before taking her phone out. “Say cheeese.”

Miguel didn’t comply, simply turning his face to the other side and pinching the bridge of his nose for the first time that evening at his troublesome AI.

Before he could remind Lyla of the alerts again, arms engulfed Miguel in a hug.

“Miguel! I’m so glad you could make it!” Peter B gave Miguel a squeeze before pulling back with tears pricking his eyes. The look on Peter B’s face was the equivalent of a proud dad seeing their son go to prom for the first time or something.

Out of his usual pink robe and gray dad sweatpants, Peter B was dressed in a blue tuxedo with red lapels. Before Miguel could tell him “Never hug me again,” two little arms and feet belonging to Peter B’s baby daughter Mayday found themselves on Miguel’s head and shoulders.

Miguel let Mayday crawl over him until she reached the edge of his right shoulder, where he picked her off with his other hand. He held the toddler securely in his hands, noticing that she wore a fluffy tulle gown with a blue top and red skirt to match with her dad.

Miguel couldn’t help but have a ghost of a smile on his face when Mayday babbled through her toothy smile and leaned forward in his arms to play with his bow tie.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Miguel turned his attention to Peter B, who turned his back to Miguel in order to take a selfie with Miguel and Mayday after snapping probably ten of the same pictures of Miguel and Mayday.

“Saw Y/N a few minutes ago! She went off to take pictures with the kids,” Peter B held up a peace sign while snapping a selfie with Miguel (who frowned) and Mayday (who grinned).

“Qué maravilla,” Miguel grumbled. “The kids” consisted of Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar, and Hobie Brown. Miguel doubted he would get to see you even once during this soirée if you were surrounded by the energetic and rambunctious younger Spiders.

“C’mon, Miguel, smile a bit,” Peter B urged him. Before Miguel could decide between staying a bit longer or ditching the soirée, his ears picked up on your laughter.

He turned his head to your direction, his lips parting to call you over. Whatever words Miguel planned to say caught in his throat once his eyes landed on you.

Maybe it was Miguel’s point of view or the lighting of the lobby or just you, but to Miguel, you suddenly stood out from the sea of Spiders.

You swayed about in an obsidian sleeveless satin ball gown with a sweetheart neckline as Pavitr and Gwen took turns twirling you around. Your sheer tulle gloves embroidered with lines of gold glitter gradient that grew fainter up your arms resembled the fractal pattern of a spiderweb.

Miguel wasn’t one to care for fashion, usually preferring comfort over couture, but he couldn’t help but be floored.

The epitome of elegance and beauty, you looked every bit the queen Miguel already knew you were.

Shock. If Miguel’s ears weren’t burning before, they were practically on fire now. He thanked whatever higher beings that he was able to maintain his composure.

“Y/N, over here!” Peter B interrupted Miguel’s trance as the former waved to you.

Miguel knew he was a goner the moment you turned your head to Peter B’s direction. Your eyes lit up once they landed on Miguel, and Miguel was rendered powerless when your smile grew at the sight of him.

You excused yourself from the kids, who became preoccupied with their own things. Miles and Gwen, who retreated to one of the many beams above the lobby, sat upside-down next to each other to sketch the people and things at the soirée. Pavitr and Hobie began a game of rating all the party foods. The latter claimed earlier that he’d only show up for a bit but ended up staying longer.

With each step you took towards Peter B, Mayday, and Miguel, Miguel found himself growing more and more self-conscious.

Is my hair alright? Do I smell good? Shock, why am I worrying about all of this?!

Miguel never worried about this stuff before. He felt like a high-school student getting ready to see his date for the first time for prom. And Miguel didn’t even go to prom in high school.

When you were finally standing in front of him, Miguel was cursing and pleading through a flurry of sentences in Spanish in his head to keep his cool.

“Hi, everyone!” You scooped Mayday up from Peter B’s arms, cooing at how adorable she looked while she laughed and patted your face with her tiny hands.

“Hi,” Miguel managed to get out in a croak, followed by a cough. He hoped that you would focus all your attention on Mayday, but then you turned to fix your eyes on him.

“You actually showed up,” your smile turned into a grin as you gave Mayday back to Peter B and nudged Miguel playfully.

Por el amor de Dios. How is it possible that you look even more beautiful up close?

Miguel let out another brief, nervous cough, making Peter B raise an eyebrow. Peter B’s lips then tugged into a fond smile; he recognized that feeling of being flustered when you saw the person you fancied in fancy attire for the first time.

“Mayday and I are gonna go…to the loo,” Peter B said “loo” in a faux British accent, as if influenced by Hobie or something. “Yep, the loo!”

Peter B whisked himself and Mayday away, hoping to give you and Miguel some time alone. Even Lyla didn’t pop up for fun, wanting to give you and Miguel alone time as well.

You continued to grin up at Miguel, waiting for his reply to your comment.

Miguel wracked his brain for a witty answer. Think of something to say, Miguel. Something impressive—

“You said there would be empanadas,” Miguel drawled, his usual sarcasm slipping out. “Just came to check if you were bluffing.”

Empanadas?! Is that the best I could come up with?! Miguel wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose at himself. He wasn’t smooth or good at being romantic, he quickly learned, but being near you (even if you did look like a literal goddess) made Miguel still feel comfortable to be himself.

You snorted at his reply, making a genuine smile crack on Miguel’s face for the first time that evening.

“Why would I bluff about something so important as empanadas?” your usual spunkiness cracking through the air of elegance you exuded with your attire.

Your lively sense of humor always complimented Miguel’s dry sense of humor, making the soirée a whole lot more fun for him.

“I don’t know,” Miguel pursed his lips, feigning a solemn expression. “You’re a lot better at bluffing than sneaking up on people.”

“Please, I could sneak up on a whole army of villains,” You bunched up the sides of your ball gown skirt for good measure. “While wearing a ball gown.”

Miguel held up his palms as if to admit defeat. “Of course. My humblest apologies for underestimating you.” 

Miguel O’Hara? Humble? Apology? In the same sentence?? You couldn’t help but snort even more, before following with a laugh that Miguel found much more pleasant to hear than the chatter around the two of you and the thumping pop music playing throughout the lobby.

Even Miguel chuckled at himself, and the laughter the two of you shared only grew more and more in your shared little bubble.

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Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :)

🕸️ ————————🕷️————————🕸️

[fruitsbasketcase]

This will probably be an unpopular opinion and that’s fine. I want to start off by saying that Moxxie’s dad, Crimson is a very shitty father and person in general. There is no excusing the way he treated his son and wife.

That being said… a part of me kind of see’s where he was coming from with his parenting style. At least in the beginning.

I think that when Moxxie was little, Crim truly did love him in the only way he knew how. Moxxie was his son, his heir, the one to take over the business and follow in his footsteps. That in itself is the problem though. To be the boss, you need to be tough. You need to be able to handle yourself and fight your own battles. Be respected.

Mox can’t cut the steak on his own, and sure, Crim could help him but in his mind that’s not the right thing to do. In his mind you have to let him figure it out on his own, so he won’t be co dependent. In my opinion, both parents are handling this situation the wrong way.

Crim leaves Mox to figure out how to cut it on his own while his mother cuts it for him. The mother is wrong in doing this because he isn’t learning. She is doing it for him and if she is there to do it for him, why would he need to learn to do it on his own? The right thing to do would have been for them to sit Moxxie down with his knife and fork and show him step by step how to do it, while still having him do it with his own hands. It teaches him and he will be able to do it on his own next time.

Not to play the generational trauma card, but I believe Crim thought he was doing the right thing for Moxxie because his father probably raised him the same way. It is the FAMILY business after all. Dog eat dog, better to burn than get burned, kill or be killed. He wants Moxxie to know from the jump that you have to become strong and fight your own battles to survive in this business and this world. The way his mother over protected him was enabling him from fighting for himself.

Now, here comes a most likely even more unpopular opinion. Millie enables Moxxie from reaching his full potential.

Are they stronger together? Hell freaking yeah they are! That doesn’t change the fact that Moxxie never gets to fight for himself or defend himself.

He started to stick up for himself at first, and I was so freaking proud of him in that moment. A part of me wonders if deep down, Crim was proud of him too for finally fighting for himself. Of course, it didn’t last long and Millie had to come to his rescue.

I love their relationship but it doesn’t change the fact that Millie doesn’t let Moxxie fight for himself, even for the littlest things. She’s quick to jump to his defense, kill anyone who even breathes wrong in his direction. That’s romantic, sure, but that hurts Moxxie as a person. Like his mother, Moxxie uses Millie as a crutch. “I don’t need to do this myself, Millie has it covered.”

Like with his mother, it is too much on the other side of the argument. They need to find a good balance. Moxxie needs to save himself for once, and I hope the next time we see Crimson, Moxxie will be the one to take him down. Not Millie. Not Moxxie and Millie. Just Moxxie.

[meowzilla93]

omg wait i need your thoughts on the sheer angst of baxter not asking mc about a fling/getting rejected by them but the two start to fall for each other during the summer nonetheless but say nothing. knowing mc might confess to him on the last day, he breaks their heart 🙈

I AM SO SORRY I HAVE BEEN DELAYED DUE TO LIFE WORK AND JUST THINKING ABOUT THIS TOO MUCH!

we cannot catch a break with this man I swear

he also cant catch a break with us because we just cannot let him be happy until he realises his mistakes

lets go

Lets go with you met Baxter before at the soiree, you had your little dance, and its that textbook fairytale thing and you have a little crush on him for years later

Because come on, that’s pure Victoria slow burn romance right there and of course it features Baxter

You reunite with him 5 years later, and wow okay somehow that crush lasted because you got butterflies just remembering that dance, and you want to get to know him better

He invites you out to go sightseeing, you have a brilliant time and at the end, he asks you to date him

But you aren’t into flings, dating is something serious to you, its meaningful

So you decline him, albeit with a heavy heart

But he is understanding, still wants to keep a friendship with you

And so you start hanging out more often, chatting via sms, he send you photos of where is he and you send them back

(please for the love of everything we are in the age of technology I refuse to believe there wasn’t solid amount of contact and photos being sent around)

Baxter is open with his physical affections, even platonically, and so you kinda take advantage of that and just become that sickly sweet pair of friends that just hang off each other

People tell you both to get a room and you both give them the same excuse

“we are in a room, its called outside” you know, just being little shits

But.

Baxter seems to be more free with his physical affection with you than anyone else

And, wait, did you manage to fluster him buy hugging him sweetly at the fireworks?

Did he just blush when you went to grab his hand after a serious Deep and Meaningful TM to let him know he is doing fine?

You both were stealing glances at each other when either of you didn’t think you were looking when you went to the lodge

He really didn’t want that night to end

And so you think maybe, just maybe this could be more? Maybe you should’ve thought more about rejecting him

The party planning happens, you bake cupcakes into the wee hours in the morning and, wow did he seriously just lick that frosting on your lips with his thumb?

This has to mean something right?

You cant stop the fluttering of your heart, the heat rising to your cheeks, and it seems like he feels the same way

Baxter never blushes, he teases as easy as breathing but right now its like he didn’t even think about what he did, but doesn’t seem to find it in himself to regret it

Why oh why did this have to happen when he is so close to leaving

You refuse to let him leave without even having a dance, and chance for some sweetly romantic time with him

And wasn’t it just so sweet

He couldn’t believe what you did for him, where willing to do, and finally he just lets himself be with you, holding you close, leaves a kiss in your hair, like you are both in your own world and no one can enter it whilst you hold each other like that

It feels like the days after the party are melding into one with how fast they seem to go

Baxter is due to leave soon, you know you cant stop it but for some reason it just hurts knowing you could’ve had something and now you might never have that chance

The beach get together was bittersweet, the time has come to start with your new life, uni and work and all the scary things, its time to start that adventure

And there you are

In the middle of the street with Baxter, saying your goodbyes

Arms wrapped around each other, wishing you didn’t have to let go

But you just cant, you cannot bring yourself to say it, instead, you finally tell him

You wish you had more time, you wish you could turn back the clock and say yes to him when he asked you out

The last 3 months have been one of the best summers you have had and its all because he reappeared into your life!

Is there any hope that maybe you could have something long distance with him, sure Virginia is on the other side of the country but, there is nothing stopping you both being able to keep contact at least

And he just freezes

No words, nothing

He lets you go, looking anywhere but you

“No.”

He whispers it, so gently you almost didn’t hear him

But you did

You don’t want to believe what he said, so you try to ask him again and he just stops you

“No.” Its firm this time, and he looks you in the eyes

He looks sad, frustrated, disappointed (in himself or you?)

“This isn’t going to happen. I am leaving, and its for good. I – I never intended for this to happen. Please, go home and forget me.”

He turns away, but not before he sees the tears streaming down your face

You are numb, you don’t know what to say

You bared your heart to him and he didn’t care

All the signs, all the times you laughed with each other, held each other, flirted and everything in between

Did it really mean nothing to him?

You couldn’t say a word as you watched him go back to his condo and close the door behind him without saying another word

You cant see what he does on the other side of that door, as you walk back to your room to deal with your breaking heart

As you cry on your own bed, wondering if this would still have of happened if you didn’t reject him, where you always on the way to have your heart broken regardless

And as you are wondering all of this with a bleeding heart

You cant see that when he went back inside, he dropped to the ground, hand covering his mouth to stop the sound of his cries escaping into the night

You cant see as the tears pour down his face when he realizes that he has broken your heart and his own in the process

That he is hating himself for what he has done but cannot regret even a moment spent with you because it was bliss

You cant see him cry himself dry, knees brought to his chest as he weeps on the floor of his very cold condo

And when he is done, he wont be able to genuinely smile for months if not years to come because he left his smile with you, along with his heart, at Sunset Bird

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

OMG PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT IAN AND JEFF ANYTIME.

literally every time I listen to grace, Ian listening to this album pops into my head 😭😭

who else do you think he can listen to? maybe lana(omg i headcanon that him and debbie talked about her music and she didn't expect that he knows her lmao), nirvana, the doors or something? I completely ignore his taste in the show too🫡🫡

oh anon i am so late to this and i apologize😭 i have no excuse other than laziness so… anyways!

ian definitely would like jeff buckley. i know that for a fact. i know that john wells showed us him listening to like… techno shit and lady gaga which is fine, but i don’t see him listening to that, i see everything that you listed, jeff buckley, lana del rey, nirvana, the doors, possibly oasis (based on carl’s shirt in 1x01), and maybe even radiohead (mickey canonically likes radiohead so…). 

i could see him liking grace, especially around season 1. like, another thing about ian and his “techno” music taste is that season 1 goes against it because we heard him listening to music in the van and he seemed to value music based on him saying he gave kash cds so that they would be interested in the same things. maybe he showed kash grace? i don’t know, i don’t want kash to know what grace is because i despise him but i could see ian loving that album. i don’t know if he would like sketches for my sweetheart the drunk just because i somehow feel like he wouldn’t have discovered it😭 like maybe later on around season 7 he would’ve listened to it, and if he did, he would like “nightmares by the sea” and “yard of blonde girls”, i think.

i personally associate ian with a few songs on grace, and if this post actually gets any attention and people want to know i could post about it like i did with mickey and nude by radiohead, but here are some songs that remind me of ian/i think ian would like (off of grace):

- lover, you should’ve come over; romantic song, i feel like ian would listen to it and think of mickey because he’s a fucking sap. he would have this song, “at last” (etta james, their wedding song) and some other love songs in a playlist titled “mickey” or something like that. this song i kind of associate with mickey in season 4/5, just because of how much of a hopeless romantic he is, but mickey would probably not listen to jeff buckley. early seasons ian would probably resonate with this song a lot, especially in season 2/3 when his love for mickey is growing stronger and it’s making him a bit miserable at the same time. the whole “so i’ll wait for you, love, and i’ll burn” thing reminds me of both of them, but especially season 2/3 ian because he was kind of always left waiting for mickey to the point where it started to really break him. just the intense feeling of love in this song is so ian and it’s just… such a beautiful song and also gallavich coded i can’t even

- forget her; ian’s feelings towards mickey in seasons 6-8. i think people often look down on ian for how he felt about mickey in those seasons, and i understand why, but i also feel so awful for ian because the way he acted was so clearly him just trying to forget. wanting to push down all feelings he had for mickey and pretend that the situation was something it wasn’t because he undoubtedly has avoidant attachment issues (which i want to talk about more in depth sometime). “don’t fool yourself, she was heartache from the moment that you met her” is so ian, there is no way he went into that relationship and thought it would all end up okay. whether we’re talking about ian or mickey being the “heartache”. because ian always expected mickey to get himself thrown away again, and ian always expected himself to fuck things up. so he goes out with other men and he convinces himself he’s okay when he’s not, that he’s over mickey when he’s not, he has this whole façade on and not many people could see through it, but the second mickey saw him in season 7 (or even in the visit in season 6) he saw through it. the lyrics “oh, i think i’ve forgotten her now” remind me of ian’s date with caleb or just the whole caleb thing in general where he’s clearly trying to be someone he’s not and saying things he wouldn’t have said.

- lilac wine; season 3 ian. but like, 3x06-3x11 ian. the downfall, the heartbreak, the start of it all. “i lost myself on a cool, damp night, i gave myself in that misty light, was hypnotized by a strange delight under a lilac tree”, really just reminds me of the aftermath of 3x06 on ian’s part. the way he started to change, and drink, and cry. he was hurt, physically and mentally, and i don’t know how to really explain these lyrics in association with him during that time they just are ian. the whole song is kind of just like, drinking and missing someone. “lilac wine is sweet and heady, where's my love? lilac wine, i feel unsteady, where's my love? listen to me, why is everything so hazy? isn’t that she, or am i just going crazy, dear?” ian at the wedding, or after the wedding. just 3x11 in general. he’s drunk/hungover throughout the entire episode, and it’s really the start of it all. i mean, i think that everything had started a few episodes before that, but to me, that was the first episode where i saw ian and was like “holy shit”. he missed mickey, he drank a lot, and he was just so fucking heartbroken.

- dream brother; this song always reminds me of ian when i listen to it and i don’t even know how to explain it. i think a big part of it could be the fact that it’s believed this song is about child abandonment, and not only that, but also self destruction. two things ian knows a lot about. “her green eyes blew goodbyes, with her head in her hands” reminds me so much of monica leaving in season 1. not only that, but the look ian gave her. the way his eyes looked everytime they landed on her. it’s so heartbreaking and that lyric really reminds me of that. another thing about this song is that it apparently was a warning for his (jeff buckley’s) friend not to walk out on his pregnant girlfriend because it reminded him of what his father did, which is why the song says, “don’t be like the one who made me so old”. to me, that’s ian to lip. specifically in 7x08, which is one of my favorite episodes/scenes ever and i have talked about it so many times. how the scene where lip grabs ian is a direct parallel to when frank headbutts ian, and how ian looks at lip the same way he looks at frank. how ian advises lip not to drink before ian goes off to prison, and like, i don’t know, how they both have always kind of worried about ending up like frank and monica, the people who hurt them both so much. “they're waiting for you like i waited for mine; and nobody ever came” just reminds me of how ian looked when monica hugged debbie and carl in season 1. when she says “please let me be your mommy again” you can tell that ian’s heard that 1000 things and he’s absolutely crushed.

i definitely think he would listen to lana del rey, and i intend on making a separate post about that (i also started a series on ao3 of shameless oneshots inspired by lana del rey but it’s on a quick hiatus because again, i’m a lazy fuck), he reminds me a lot of her album (or ep, i guess) paradise. especially the songs ride and cola. if he were to listen to her he’d definitely be a local but he would love the songs he knows. debbie definitely got him into her because i’ve literally made a whole in-depth post about why debbie is a lana fan (it’s basically canon, especially considering debbie’s age and her marina phase) and so she would introduce her to him. maybe ian has lana songs on that playlist i was talking about?? who knows

i could definitely see him liking nirvana, that’s pretty realistic and it makes sense for him. i made a post about ian and territorial pissings and i honestly could make a lot of connections between ian and nirvana, too. it’s worth mentioning that kurt cobain was bipolar and he had songs about it, and those songs always seem to remind me of ian (like lithium).

anyway… i said a lot more than i had intended, but like i said, i really like doing meta about characters regarding music so should i post more of that??

[kamiversee]

Yap-sesh incoming:

Okay FIRST OF ALL HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK THAT CHAPTER WAS GOOD😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Love the “consistency” of smut in the second chapter both in tfl and ftl hehehe :3

And he really is crazy crazy like WHAT DO YOU MEEEEAN YOU WROTE DOWN THE AMOUNT OF BREATHS AND BLINKS

Also I appreciate your writing so SO much with how you made clear that Gojo’s behavior is NOT normal/romantic/good/desirable (this typa stuff gets romanized WAY too much)

And why do I kinda like Sukuna again, for calling Gojo out and telling him he’s being disgusting, I did NOT plan to find that man anything close to sympathetic anymore after tfl I’d let him ruin me any day 😭

Like why do I like him for seemingly wanting to punish Gojo for being a creep towards a woman (ik his form if punishment fucks us over literally too, but if I didn’t know that, I’d be like HELL YEAH TELL HIM [also it seems like the fuck list wasn’t his initial plan but what he came up with after Gojo refused to tell reader and Sukuna obviously read more of the diary and therefore found out which person would hurt Gojo most if reader slept with them, maybe to get Gojo off of his obsession])

Also why did I knowwwww that would be how Sukuna gets ahold of the diary the second you mentioned Gojo babysitting??? Your foreshadowing is truly divine 😌

But also WHY does he seem to need/want the money (he stopped questioning why Yuji needed a babysitter after seeing how much he’d get paid + him wanting to make sure he gets the money) I thought he was rich anyways? And why does it seem like only one person lives in the apartment if Geto and Gojo live together??

And Sukuna seeming to understand his obsession to some degree - is that directed towards that first (?) woman he hit (if I remember correctly) after she said something to him? (I think Choso was the one who saw that happen??) Like she’s the “reason” he “changed” and Sukuna only became abusive towards Yuji after that? Cause I feel like I remember him promising Choso he wouldn’t do stuff to Yuji and maybe he actually didn’t but then started after the stuff happened with this Woman? 👀

Idk if I’m super far off but that would maybe also explain why he really doesn’t want Gojo to get his way with reader (like Sukuna apparently succeeded in manipulating that girl, who then maybe found out that he was obsessed or something and that’s what she said to him before things escalated) cause he doesn’t want Gojo to succeed/be happy “where he failed”? Or maybe he wants to protect reader somehow because of underlying self-hatred and projection?

I feel like either I cooked hard or completely burned my kitchen down, along with my whole house with these theories lmao, thanks for listening to my ted talk🙇🏻‍♀️

-🖤

Ah yes, the seasonal yap sesh 🙂‍↕️ lets unpack, shall we?

This is kinda long btw, sorry ><

For one, I actually didnt even notice that I mirrored where smut is until you just pointed it out HELLO? I MIGHT BE A GENUIS? I know I mirrored the first three words of tfl & ftl but I did the smut thing on accident honestly 😅

& Gojo was…coco for cocoa puffs, to say the least. Even in tfl, he explicitly tells the reader that the version of himself who fell in love with her was a bad guy— as we now see!

And I need everyone to be well aware that the acts are not okay. 🙏 Please, even as I wrote it I was genuinely creeped out because imagine if you had someone you didn’t know watching you & even jacking his shit to you… that is WEIRD and NASTY. Gojo being hot does NOT excuse SHIT. ^.^ Happy that I was able to express that through that disturbing chapter. These acts should not be romanticized. & while yes, I love a good dark romance, this is an example of what isn’t romantic but pure dark. It’d be different if he actually knew the reader & talked to her but he didn’t, I hope people keep tht in mind :)

NEXT, liking Sukuna is okay actually 😄 You might even feel stronger about him in those regards after the next chapter! And my foreshadowing with the babysitting was rather obvious I think! Glad you spotted it tho!! ;)

About the whole money thing. It was explained that Gojo enjoyed babysitting in general & it’s clear he loves kids & taking care of them! As such, think of it as a parallel to the reader in tfl. She had no job & was getting no action until Gojo came along w the blackmail. Through him, she saw it as a win win (blackmail aside) as she’d get to fuck hot guys & get paid— solving two of her problems at once. Now with Gojo in ftl, he saw it as him being able to take care of kids like he loves & the amount that Sukuna pays him is like an added bonus! A mere plus side, if you will. Gojo is rich but who doesn’t love extra money? Especially for something he loves doing?

& nono, the part where Sukuna was studying the apartment was to say he could tell two people lived there! It’s simply a nod to how Sukuna & Gojo didn’t know each other well enough for Sukuna to know Gojo had a roomate. :)

With Sukuna’s understanding of Gojo’s obsession…. 🌚 Let’s just say, Sukuna is not a fan of it. More will come in upcoming chapters!

You definitely cooked w ur theories, fret not my love :3 I was happy to read! Ty <3

[khaleesiofalicante]

Well, that was some plot twist, can I just say that Cami and Antoine were the real MVPs of this chapter? I loved every single thing they did and said in this chapter and I really really hope we see more of Antoine and Abigail, they are the only sane couple of this story (at least for now).

But I have soo many thoughts!

Most of the next generation, especially the kids you chose, to live in the same building has got to be one of my favourite plot twists. I'm shooketh. This has so much potential. Regine and Arthur? Kincaid wooing Arthur? Kincaid and Joan training and Arthur with Regine thirsting after them? Regine working through her feelings and becoming a better person? Lance witnessing Kincaid being a decent person and maybe being somewhat similar to him? Them hiding from the adoring crowd to a closet or something? Theia and Kincaid being amazing siblings in law? That storyline is a major game changer and I'm thrilled to see how you'll explore it!

I love love love Gwen and I'm so glad she's back! And telling Lucifer to respect Lance? Queen behavior right there

Does every Knightstorm have to be a bigoted nightmare? Blood supremacist, homophobe, what's next? No offence Mikkel but we have enough problems to worry about without you trying to create a cult. On a side note, super stoked to see what happened to him and Hermes. I have a feeling they used to be close? And most likely it was platonic but maybe a little romantic too? Maybe?👀

Here are some things that feel like they're connected (but probably aren't): 1)Theia mentions in LBAF 5 that she "sees" Lance dating a mundane blonde girl, like a Barbie girl, which reminds me of Regine 2)It's been mentioned a lot that Regine/Lance were going to be married/parabatai by Madeleime when they were kids a lot 4)Arthur sees Lance with a parabatai rune. I honestly don't even have an actual theory about this, those things just seem to connect?

Speaking of the parabatai rune, if Lance and Arthur don't end up becoming parabatai(I can see Atlas figuring the runes problem) Kincaid and Lance kind of make sense? Not because they are close but because parabatai are supposed to share a soul. And both Kincaid's and Lance's soul is Arthur. So, in a way they're already sharing a soul.

Another crazy theory: The prophecy isn't talking about Lance/Kincaid but about Lucifer/Micheal and Lance and Kincaid clash is just the beginning of the war between the other two. Or when Kincaid burns Lance, it would destroy the pandemonium but Lance would live, and it would be the prince of darkness' demise because he would no longer be a portal? Or even that it would destroy Lucifer and not Lance? Can Kincaid use heavenly fire to hurt Lucifer?👀

I was so convinced that Joseph would come back I just had a feeling! Oh, I can't wait to see his interaction with Madeleine and how he reacts to what he hears everything she has done. I can see Madeleine believing that it's not really Joseph or at first believing it and after he tells her what she's doing is insane, her being convinced it's a ploy by Lance. But that means his death is a canon event 😭

I am DYING just picturing how the conversation between Max and David planning the trial went. How they came up with using the alliance rune. That would've been an amazing scene, I love these two

Okay, while it was very in character, the Lance/Max interaction I didn't like. Because I feel like Max should have listened to Lance. He was the only person Lance would've told the actual reason to. The only person that could assure Lance that what he did was pointless. He did the same thing with Magnus in LBAF II and the "I hurt the people I love so they should stay away from me" mentality Lance has adopted screams Max so he really should've heard him out. Because it wasn't a "bullshit excuse" it was an actual reason that makes Lance feel bad about himself. And Max had an opportunity to comfort him and ruined it. But Lance needed a good whooping. I hope he talks to David about this. Let David do the comforting part.

Lance being happy about Arthur breaking up with Kincaid, while completely understandable and in character also feels wrong. He should've asked, because Arthur is so terrified and when Lance shut Theia out it was because of very similar reasons. But he wasn't alone in it. He had Gwen and Arthur. Arthur is alone. And he doesn't deserve that. And for a really long time he chose it. He hid it from other people. But now they know. So they have a say in it. To question, to help , to support him. They have an opening now and I really hope they take it. David asking why Arthur broke up with Kincaid made me so happy. I really hope he questions Arthur a little deeper about it. Because Lance and Max won't. And I get why. But someone has to. David really is holding them all together isn't he?

Every other villan in this story doesn't hold a candle to Lucifer. The guy is not here to fuck around. He kept to the point, he didn't have unnecessary dramatics. I can really see why he is considered the smartest out of all of them. Again, he DOES NOT fuck around. And that was crystal clear when Lance said he hates feeling unwanted and Lucifer made it sound like he doesn't want him. He used his insecurity against him and whether he meant it or not it was a very strong start for him to manipulate Lance. Never underestimate Lucifer indeed.

On a happier note, a small reminder that this isn't the first time Lance gives Theia flowers! But it's the first time they reach her-bad Kincaid

I live in Dream Denial Daydream world. It's like Barbie's world, except in this world all the good guys that came back to life can stay with zero consequences and only the assholes have to return to the dead. Some of them sooner than others. Pwease🥺

The Magnus changing the canon event- his dreams going away- Max treating Alec like that are things I have locked away in a little box and I refuse to revisit them until we get to LBAF 7. But Magnus not having these dreams makes me super worried about Other Magnus and the epilogue will probably let us know about what happened. I am so scared about that🙃

I can't believe that we are getting to the end of the first part! It was a wild ride and I loved every minute of it. Anxiously waiting for the epilogue and then it's back to Mavid fluff, I can't wait🥰

AHHHH LBAF ASK FROM VICKY. HEHEHE I LOVE THESE.

Cami and Antoine are indeed the MVPs. Really out there doing what needs to be done. We'll definitely see Antoine and Abby more...Maybe on a double date 👀

This is one of my favourite things about the next season (yeah I am saying it now too). I've been waiting to bring them all together. There's just gonna be a lot of bonding and I'm soooo pumped about it hehe.

Gwen, we missed you 🥹

Knightstorms being cunts, who else is surprised? Hermes and Mikkel is platonic I swear 🤣

They are not connected hehe. But then again I lie all the time so who knows?

Lance having a parabatai is hilarious to me idk why he'll be like "tying my soul to someone ew" But i'd love that for him

I've heard this theory before. I must say it's quite popular 👀

I remember when Joseph died, I let it slip that it's a canon event, I'm glad none of yall remember it kdjnkjsnjkdcs

I NEED A ONE-SHOT.

You're very right about this. It's in character, but it's also not the sensible thing to do. I feel like Other Max would've handled this before (he thinks with his head whereas Current Max very much still thinks with his heart)

Same thing. In character, but like bro why did you do that? I think Lance might have been too relieved to think too deeply about it. But maybe he'll start noticing how the break up affects Arthur? When mavid find out Arthur broke up with Kincaid, Max asks 'when' and David asks 'why' - a small hint there that David is indeed worried and doesn't understand why Arthur would do that. Hopefully they'll have a chat.

Lucifer 🫡

YOU REMEMBERED!

Wouldn't that be nice oof

Yeah all of it not good. very bad. terrible.

Wild ride is definitely right. Thank you for sticking with me through it 🥹🧡

[forever-fixating]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Hump Day! I was tagged by the lovely, lovely @priincebutt! Pride Month has been very productive for writing so far. Got two teasers for yall again because I'm so super geeked about both of these chatpers. My bestie Kate has been helping me as a beta reader in the best way, and I cannot wait to share what I've got. Enjoy!

living in a new normal

“Fucking shit!” Alex gasped. “Do you even have a gag reflex?”

“Yes,” Henry slurped, lifting his head. “Though the queer and closeted population of Oxford did their level best to rid me of it.”

“Oh my fuck,” Alex choked out, his head jerking up from the pillow to glare down at Henry. “You can’t just say shit like that, Henry!”

“So stop me then,” and back down he went.

Henry loved sucking cock. If the non-existent God of the universe struck him down in that moment, he would sashay up the pearly gates with a smile on his face. He felt shame about many things in his life, but loving men was never one of them. Alex was a picture perfect example of why. The sculpted masculine power of his body. The coarse hair dusting his chest and legs. The burn of his stubble in the morning. Henry knew how lucky he was to live in a time and place where he could lay in the bed of a beautiful man and suck his cock in relative peace.

Alex fucked into his mouth with careful, confident strokes, fingers tight in Henry’s hair. He moaned that he was close, and Henry tapped his hip to signal that it was okay to finish in his mouth. The familiar salty taste lit up his tastebuds as Alex keened from above. Moments passed before Henry swallowed the last of Alex’s release and lifted his mouth. He joined Alex at the head of the bed and gave him a languid kiss. The younger man moaned into it, and Henry greedily swallowed every lovely sound.

“Why don’t I find this gross?” Alex mumbled.

Henry pushed a damp curl from Alex’s forehead. “Because you don’t. No need to psychoanalyze it.”

Alex smiled. “You’re so smart, baby.”

“Nope.” Henry kissed Alex’s chin. “Just a fan of cum-flavored kisses.”

“Changed my mind. You’re fucking ridiculous.”

A Tournament for His Heart

The garden was buzzing with their fellow guests when Alex and Nora arrived. He let Nora take the lead on introductions as she had devoted herself to the task of learning who was invited from which country or region. Declan kept his distance, looking comically out of place. Alex browsed the selection of finger foods and was unimpressed. Still, his stomach rumbled, and he inhaled a few underseasoned chicken sandwiches.

“Prince Alexander, I presume?”

The voice belonged to an older man with a narrow face and sharp eyes. Alex nodded. “And you are, sir?”

“Lord Jeffery Richards,” he replied with a bow. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Alex felt as though he were being assessed. The man’s reputation preceded him, and none of it was complimentary. “You’re the first I’ve met of my fellow competitors.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Alex asked, unable to help himself, “but aren’t you using a proxy in the tournament? Is it truly fair to say that you’re competing?”

“As are the majority, if memory serves. Not all of us have delusions of romantic grandeur carrying us through.”

Alex clenched his fist, his smile feeling more brittle with each passing second. “Perhaps it’s because I see Prince Henry as more than a prize to be won.”

“That is a sweet notion, Your Highness,” Richards laughed, giving Alex a condescending smack on the arm. “I had heard rumors that the two of you had an attachment in your youth. I hope you won’t be too disappointed when my man carries the day. He is quite the jousting master and has never been unhorsed.”

“Nor have I.” And with that, Alex excused himself to find Nora.

A/N- Shoutout to my fellow Knight's Tale fans. That Jocelyn moment was one of my favorites, so I had to give it to Alex. I still need to edit these chapters as well as write a couple more so I don't have massive gaps in between posting. Fans of LIANN are not ready for Paris.

Tagging @onthewaytosomewhere @piratefalls @dragonflylady77 and anyone else eager to share!