#(I do work pretty fast but still hh)

[snejkha]

Lyrinn for @pikicharms // Thank you again//

[yanderepuck]

KNOW WHAT?? FUCK IT. I DESERVE THIS. It's more degrading than anything. But you're all sluts so I know you'll enjoy this

*mission failed nearly 5 months into the year* we should all be surprised I lasted that long to be fair

"Theo..." you whine. You beg. You grip onto his shoulders tighter as you are humping his thigh.

With all the art in the room he can only have his eyes on you. You were taking a break from setting up for a gallery. There was a back room that was furnished, looking like it was meant for a refreshment area.

One thing quickly led to another and here you are whining for him. Both sets of lips are red from kissing. His suit is disheveled. His jacket not even on, his tie partially pulled off.

Theo sits back along the couch watching you trying to pleasure yourself.

"You sound so pathetic," he smirked. Theo brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear but then tugged your head back, getting a moan out of you. "Use your words for me," he tries to sound gentle. "Tell me what you want, Hondje."

Your hands go down his chest, resting in his lap. "I-I want you to fuck me."

'You need to be more specific than that. Remember how you called me dumb earlier? I need you to tell me what you want."

You whine. You were just a little irritated when you made that comment, now it's back to bite you.

"H-hold me down and use me," he pulls your hair a little more when your humping slows down. "Ahh-hh. Use me... Use me until I can't even think. I'm your toy."

Your face gets flushed saying these things. Theo sits up, getting close to your face. "I need more than that. How deep should I go," his voice is smooth and deep at the same time, keeping his voice low as if he didn't want anyone to hear even though no one else is in the building.

His finger grazes across your stomach, going under your clothes to feel your skin. "Do you think my cock can get this deep?" He touches just below your belly button. You shiver slightly. "And just how rough should I be?" His other hand grabs your hip, stopping your movements.

"Should I leave you with bruises? Have my cum dripping from your pretty little cunt?" you close your eyes, imagining it. You feel yourself getting wetter.

"Theo.."

"And how fast?" The hand on your stomach reaches up to grope you, squeezing your boob. "Fast enough that your tits are sore from bouncing?" Moving his hand up again he grabs the thick chain around your neck. You couldn't have a collar on all the time so you compromised.

His voice got deeper, almost a growl. "You're like a mutt in heat, you know that? A mutt who wants nothing more than her holes filled," the hand on your hip slowly went up your skirt, along your thigh before getting to your soaking wet heat.

He pressed two fingers against your underwear. It was like a button, you immediately moaned and started to hump his thigh again. He tugs on the necklace, bringing you so close your lips are almost touching.

"I bet you would like to be tied up too, hmm?" With one hand behind your back and the other gripping your thigh he tossed you onto your back with him between your legs. You can feel his hard on pressed against you. The only thing keeping him from being inside you is a few layers of fabric.

He pressed you into the couch harder, his lips along your neck, kissing you lightly, talking in your ear. "How many rounds would it take for you to stick your tongue out like a mutt panting? Three? Four?"

You were already speechless. He might be able to get you to cum on words alone.

"I love it when you're speechless. You can't tell me no," he presses his lower body into you more and you press back.

He kisses you roughly, holding your arms above your head with just one hand. You kiss back hungrily, wanting to choke on his tongue.

When you two part, a string of saliva still keeps you connected. He looks you in the eyes. You swear it's a feral look as if he's going to rip your clothes off and take you right here. But..

"Too bad we have work to do," he gets off of you.

Your blank mind finally starts to reboot when you no longer feel the warmth of his body on you. He fixes his clothes while your mind is trying to catch up.

"What!" You finally sit up, looking at him. No, glaring at him.

"I'm not going to reward a puppy for doing nothing. Get these paintings hung up and then I'll bend you over."

You start grumbling as you stand up. You fix your clothes. You understand what he means. If he ducks you like that now you'll never finish the set up on time. But it's still disappointing.

"And if you get it done quickly I'll give you an extra treat," hes just trying to bribe you, he would do it either way.

"Which is?"

"Don't you trust me? You've never been disappointed before," he smirks and fixes your hair for you.

"Maybe I want to be fucked now," you pout.

He grabs your jaw making you look up at him. "Are you trying to order me around, hondje?"

"And if I am?"

"Then the only thing you'll get bent over is my knee," he keeps eye contact with you for a few moments before letting you go. "Let's finish before I change my mind."

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @faust-bitten @floydsteeth

[chestcongestion]

Demon-to-Demon Ch.5/5: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

Warnings: Contagion, Mess, Plot thread might still be a bit too close to current events for comfort even if it has nothing to do with current events

Word Count: 9,917

This has been a wonderful journey, and it's super satisfying to have wrapped it all up so I can work on new things! This was an absolute joy to write, thank you guys so much for all of the incredible feedback. As always, the fic is under the cut, and I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave prompts or rqs for certain characters in my askbox.

  “Eh’KzZssCHEW! Eh’ksScHEW! Eh’KSsSHiih!” Charlie’s erratic sneezing roused her ailing friends from their messy slumber. Tiny starbursts of magical fireworks appeared after each sneeze, crackling and popping around Charlie’s head.

“Fuck’s sake- snFF- you sneeze like there’s somethin’ inside you tryin’ to rip its way out,” Angel croaked, rubbing underneath his tired eyes as he tossed Charlie a box of tissues. 

“That’s what it fe-eel’s li-iike…EHH’KSHHHUE! H-HEH’KSssHhiew! Eh’KzZCHEW!,” Charlie replied, pinching a few tissues around her nose and letting loose a heavy, gurgling blow, sneaking a peek at her soiled tissue and wincing in disgust, “Is a’dybody else’s uhb…snff!... ‘stuff’...sorta yellow?” 

“Nope!” Niffty said proudly from her little nest of blankets. 

Angel pulled one of his soiled tissues out of the trash can next to the sofa, peeling it open to look inside, “Uhh… kinda? It’s really pale yellow,” he said, turning his head to cough into his elbow, his spasming chest rousing Husk from his comfortable position pressed against his torso underneath the blankets. 

Charlie flashed Angel with the contents of her tissue, wrinkling her nose with a damp, heavy sniffle, “I thig’k mbine is a little brighter…snRK!,” she said. 

Angel chewed nervously on a slender finger, “Shit, that is pretty yellow,” he replied, “I don’t think it means nothin’, though… it’s probably just cause you’re so clogged up.” 

“Probably… E-EHH’TsSHIEW! ‘Tshhiew! ‘TSssHIIEW!,” Charlie drowsily ran her sleeve under her streaming nostrils, wincing at the friction from the fabric of her pajamas stinging her raw skin, “Oww.” 

“It’s 9 in the morning, 666 News should be starting now!” Niffty announced, turning on the chunky cathode ray television and watching the screen with slight anticipation. 

The 666 News theme leaked from the television set’s speakers, and the transition graphic appeared, only to begin broadcasting a sleeping Katie Killjoy, curled up in bed and feverishly clutching one of her pillows as though it were a stuffed animal. The anchorwoman was snoring heavily, unappealing bags under her eyes and crumpled-up tissues scattered across her bed. 

“Miss… Miss Killjoy, we’re live,” the intern behind the camcorder whispered. 

Katie gave no reply, letting out a hacking cough into her pillow, but still fast asleep, even as the intern attempted to shake her awake. 

“Uhm… we will… we will be back with your update on day number 40 of the Red Spread… after these messages,” the intern said in a meek voice, still hiding behind the camcorder, “Shit… which button do I press to cut to commercial?!”  

The video feed for 666 News quickly fizzled out, cutting to a random commercial for VoxTech night vision goggles. 

“Awww, that was cute, Katie was sleepy,” Niffty giggled. 

“Her and me both,” Angel sighed, wiping his drippy nostrils with a tissue, “I can’t fuckin’ believe I’ve been… Hh… Hhn’Ktshh! Hah’KSshuhh! Ha-ktshhew!...’Ksshhiew!- been sick for almost two months.” 

“I can’t believe it either, this is incredibly suspicious,” Vaggie pointed out as she walked into the parlor with a small bowl of cold water, setting it down on a side table and wringing out the face towel that was resting in it, placing it on Alastor’s forehead and trying not to acknowledge the radio demon’s whimpering response to the cold fabric. 

“Mbaybe we could check to see- snff!- if this has ever happened before,” Charlie proposed, plucking two more tissues out of the box and blowing her nose. 

“I can’t… the library where the historical archive is held is closed to visitors because all of the staff are sick,” Vaggie said with a defeated sigh, “I don’t know where else I could get that kind of information.” 

Charlie gasped, flapping her hands until her excited cheering devolved into a hoarse cough, “Ow… sorry,” she said, clearing her throat, “Mby dad would probably be able to help- snff!- but he does’dt have his phone od hib.”

“Why doesn’t he have his phone?” Vaggie asked, walking over to Charlie’s armchair and gently massaging her girlfriend’s tender, puffy sinuses with gentle fingers.

Charlie blew her nose again in an attempt to regain access to her consonants, “He dropped it on the-ehh…EH’Kshhiew!- the Hellivator, and it got stepped on… I thig’k he’s stayi’g in the Lust ring right now,” she pondered, whipping out her phone and coughing into her elbow, her chest aching, “I cad call Asmodeus, he’s who Dad is visiting with.” 

Multiple rings down, in Hell’s Lust ring, Lucifer was kicking his feet at his makeshift-brother’s kitchen island in his massive penthouse, waiting for Asmodeus to finish drinking his morning coffee. 

“So… I can’t help but notice your little friend isn’t joining us for breakfast this morning,” Lucifer teased, taking a hefty bite of his powdered sugar covered pancake. 

“He’s sleeping in, he checked in with some of my incubi who work in Pride the other day… went straight to bed when he came home, I think he might be comin’ down with something,” Asmodeus replied, nervously circling the rim of his mug with a single finger. 

Footsteps coming into the kitchen made Asmodeus pause, peeking over the kitchen island to see the sleepy face of his cyborg life partner. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping-” Fizzarolli said, pausing to cough, “-I promise.” 

“G’morning, Short Stuff,” Lucifer greeted with a wave, leaning over the kitchen island to see the imp from his bar stool. 

Fizzarolli shot Lucifer a nervous half-bow, half-wave, “Hi… Your Majesty?” he replied before grabbing a glass from the dish rack near the sink and filling it with tap water. 

“Please, Lucifer is fine, anyone Asmodeus considers family is family to me,” Lucifer said with a smile, taking another massive bite of his pancake, “There’s still a few flapjacks left if you want one.” 

“I’m okay,” Fizz insisted, guzzling down his glass of water before pouring himself another one. 

“Froggie, you good? I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you choose to drink water,” Asmodeus laughed. 

“My throat hurts,” Fizzarolli said, knocking back another glass of water, “I don’t want it to be something water can’t fix, so I’m just gonna chug until it goes away.” 

“Okay, denial doesn’t work if you acknowledge that you’re in denial, Fizzie,” Asmodeus teased, gently pulling a fourth glass of water out of the imp’s hands and hoisting Fizzarolli into his lap. 

“Those fucking incubus assholes got me sick,” Fizzarolli grumbled, folding his arms with a frown, only to melt into a relaxed smile upon Asmodeus’s warm fingertips massaging his swollen, tender lymph nodes, “Mmm… that feels good.” 

Asmodeus smiled, “Good, glad that helps… you do feel a little warm, though,” he said, cautiously bringing his other hand down and pressing his palm against Fizz’s forehead. 

“I should’ve known those pricks were carrying something, one of ‘em mentioned something going around in the Pride ring, but I didn’t pay close enough attentionn- Hnk’Tshhuh!” Fizzarolli muttered, using a napkin Asmodeus handed him as a makeshift tissue. 

Asmodeus nodded, suddenly remembering a thought he’d had earlier, and turning to Lucifer, “Speakin’ of Pride, I’m surprised your baby girl hasn’t called you since you’ve been here,” he said. 

“She probably has… I don’t have a phone ‘cause mine got crushed on the Hellivator,” Lucifer sighed, “I can’t just make myself a new one because it won’t have cell service… and I don’t remember the numbers of half my contacts list.” 

Asmodeus rolled his eyes, pulling out his phone after it vibrated in his pocket, checking to see who was calling so early, “Oh! Speak of the devil, she’s callin’ me right now!” he said, answering the video call and setting Fizzarolli back down on the floor so he could focus. 

The call finished connecting, and Asmodeus was met with the image of a sleepy-looking Charlie, whose face brightened when she realized that the call had been answered.

“Uncle Ozzie!” Charlie cheered drowsily, smiling at her phone’s front-facing camera and shooting the King of Lust an eager wave. 

“Chucky Ducky!!” Asmodeus greeted, “It’s been too long, baby girl, how’s it goin’?” 

“It’s fide…snfff!... I’b mbaki’g pretty decent progress od mby passio’d project…snRK!...sorry, ‘scuse mbe…eee..Ehh…Eh’kshuu! Eh’KsSshhew! Eh’KzZsschEW!,” Charlie rambled, dabbing at her chapped nose with a tissue after her explosive sneeze, “Sorry…” 

Asmodeus frowned, “Gesundheit,” he said, noticing Charlie’s flushed cheeks and sunken, tired eyes, “Everything okay? You look tired… and you sound like you’re gettin’ a cold.” 

Charlie blew her nose, tossing the damp tissue into the trash, “Yeah- snFF!- I’b a little stuffed up, but I’b fide- EH’DdtshhIEW! EH’Kshhue! Ihh-EH’KSzZshew!... ‘Scuse be,” she said, blowing her nose and wincing at the ache of congestion moving through her raw sinuses. 

“Only a little?” Asmodeus asked, unable to mask his concern. 

“Does it sou’d that bad?” Charlie asked in reply, wrinkling her nose with a dense, heavy sniffle that accomplished nothing, her sinuses fighting the shift in pressure with a squeak. 

“It sounds awful,” Asmodeus said, fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt as worry tied his stomach in knots. 

“I k’dow… I’b sorry, it probably sou’ds ridiculous- snff!- but blowi’g mby ndose does’dt do a’dythi’g… EHh’Tsshew! Eh’KSHHEWW! ‘ksSHEW!...snff-snff!... Oh! That feels a little better,” Charlie croaked, her violent sneeze seemingly popping the cork on her sinuses, allowing her to give her nose a productive gurgling blow, “Phew… that was ni-iice Eihh’KSHHUE! Eh’ksschuhh! Eh’ksschew! Heh’KSshew- ‘Kshhew!- K’SSHHEW!” 

 Asmodeus opened his mouth to speak, but quickly realized that Charlie’s attention had been consumed by her fit. Peering over his phone, Asmodeus shot his makeshift brother a concerned look. 

“I’m finished- snFF!- sorry… phew, that was a lot,” Charlie said with a wet sniffle, the skin around her nose an angry shade of pink, and her nostrils shiny- constantly threatening to leak. 

“You wanna talk to your dad? He’s right next to me, was just in the middle of sayin’ that he can’t get a new phone until he goes back to Pride cause he can’t conjure one with cell service,” Asmodeus scoffed, rolling his eyes at Lucifer from the other end of the counter. 

“Yes, please,” Charlie replied. 

Asmodeus passed Lucifer his phone, getting down from his bar stool and hoisting Fizzarolli in his arms, “While they talk, let’s get you, taken care of,” he whispered, kissing his lover’s neck and smiling at the hoarse giggle Fizz gave in response. 

“Charlie!” Lucifer cheered, staring at Asmodeus’s phone and shooting his daughter an eager wave. 

“Hi Dad- Hh’DddTSHHEW! EH’Kshhew! ‘Kshhew!- Sorry,” Charlie greeted, wiping her nose off with a tissue. 

“Bless you! I’m so sorry you’re sick, Sweetie- I-if you need me to, I can cut my tour short and come back home!” Lucifer said enthusiastically, carefully examining his daughter’s exhausted eyes and her streaming nostrils, “Looks like it’s really takin’ a lot out of you.” 

“I’mb fide- EH’Kshhhue! Eh’kshhew!- Plus, you can’t get back to Pentagramb City, they shut down the Hellivator to the Pride Ring,” Charlie explained. 

“Why?” Lucifer asked, nervously toying with a strand of his hair. 

“There’s this really bad infectio’d going around… snFff! Snff-snff!... it’s really contagious, so they wanted to keep it contained to Pride since it’s already infected  96% of the city,” Charlie replied, shivering and pulling her blanket tighter around her, “Sorry about the camera shaki’g… I’b cold.” 

Lucifer stared at Asmodeus’s phone in shock, “I’m sorry… what?!” he exclaimed. 

“I take it fro’b your reactio’d that this has’dt happened in Hell before,” 

“Nope! No it has not!” Lucifer exclaimed, “Sorry! Sorry, I’m not panicking, I’m not panicking, this is fine!” 

Charlie turned away from her phone to cough, a heavy, barking cough that sounded slightly painful, “It’s okay, Dad, relax,” she said, “Vaggie is planning on heading out to get to the bottom of it! We’ve got this- eh…Eh’ktsshiew!- ‘scuse mbe.” 

“Okay… i-if you’re sure, take care of yourself and don’t be afraid to call Asmodeus again if you wanna talk to me, alright?” Lucifer requested, staring at his daughter’s feverish face and shimmering eyes. 

“Okay Dad, I will,” Charlie replied, “I thig’k I’m gonna take a nap. Talk to you later, Dad.” 

Lucifer waved his daughter goodbye and hung up the phone right as Asmodeus re-entered the room, noticeably impless. 

“Fizz’s head hit the pillow and he practically passed out… so cute,” Asmodeus crooned before regaining focus, “So, what’s up with my niece? I feel bad, she sounded awful.” 

“Somethin’s going around in the Pride ring, apparently it’s gotten so bad that they shut down the Hellivator,” Lucifer said, trailing off at the end of his sentence as he and Asmodeus exchanged a look. 

 “My demons can travel ring-to-ring when the Hellivator is closed by going topside and coming back through a different portal with their crystals,” Asmodeus mumbled, chewing nervously on the inside of his cheek, “And Fizz got sick after meeting up with a bunch of incubi…who were in the Pride ring.” 

Lucifer’s eye twitched audibly. 

“The incubi he met with work distribution at my factory,” Asmodeus said, his tone becoming manic as he paced around his kitchen. 

Lucifer gripped the back of his head with both hands, clawing at his blonde hair, “It’s no big deal, Oz, it only infected 96% of Pentagram City!” he exclaimed, rocking in his seat. 

Asmodeus leaned against his kitchen counter, gripping his phone desperately in his left hand before straightening his posture, “I’m gonna go make some phone calls and I’m gonna try really hard not to panic,” he said, taking a deep breath before leaving the room. 

Lucifer sat alone at the kitchen counter, tracing doodles into the marble with his fingertips, “Let’s hope Maggie knows what she’s doing,” he muttered to himself, “-Vaggie… her name’s Vaggie.” 

Three rings up, back in Pentagram City, Vaggie was preparing to leave the hotel on her incredibly makeshift hero’s journey. 

“Okay, I am going out to try and get to the bottom of this whole thing, while I am gone, Niffty is in charge because she is the most lucid out of all of you, understood?” Vaggie asked the gathering of barely-awake patients as she paced back and forth through the parlor. 

“Got it- Ahh’KsShhiew!-” Angel replied, gently massaging his tender sinuses with his fingertips. 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Husk chuckled from his position nuzzled against Angel’s chest.  

“Okay Niffty, Alastor gets a dose of fever reducer every three hours, I set an alarm on your phone for you and it’s on the wall in case you forget. Everyone else only gets one dose a day at 8pm, got it?” Vaggie asked, brushing Niffty’s bangs away from her face.  

“Kay!” Niffty replied, swiping the back of her wrist against her face to fend off an itch. 

“Behave yourselves until I get back, hopefully I’ll be back with some answers and a way to treat this thing,” Vaggie said with a nervous sigh, “Wish me luck.” 

Angel shot Vaggie a drowsy thumbs up, Husk providing a thumbs up of his own from under the blankets. 

“Good luck Vaggie,” Charlie yawned, draped across the armchair with KeeKee in her lap. 

“Fingers crossed, my dear- snff!- because if your efforts turn fruitless we’re all royally fucked… Hnk’tshhew! ‘Kshh! Hh’kzZhht!” Alastor said deliriously from the loveseat, staring at Vaggie with rheumy eyes. 

Vaggie gave her girlfriend and friends a final farewell and set off towards the Weapons District of Pentagram city. Alastor- when he was still lucid- grumbled about Carmilla almost constantly, chastising her for her unsanitary habits and ‘careless workaholism’ until he was blue in the face, so obviously she was a significant piece of the puzzle. 

After a good half hour of walking through the empty streets, Vaggie arrived at the receiving entrance to the Carmine Weapons Facility, banging on the back door in a way that felt far too familiar. 

“Fuck… how do I open this thing?!” Vaggie asked herself through clenched teeth, jumping up and peering at the surveillance camera attached to the peep hole in the door, “Carmilla- cabron- I know you’re in there!” 

“SnfF! We have a front door y’know,” Clara announced from behind the receiving entrance door as she pulled it up to let Vaggie inside, “Mom’s in her bedroom- Iih’tshuu! Hih’tshhuuw!- ‘scuse me.” 

“Thanks, sorry… keep forgetting I don’t have to sneak in through the back anymore,” Vaggie said, chuckling as she rubbed the back of her neck. 

“It’s fine,” Clara replied, “Mom’s room is on the second floor, furthest door on the right.” 

Vaggie nodded, quietly sneaking up the steps and down the dark hallways until she reached a set of greyish-purple double doors, “Carmine?” she called, patiently waiting for a response. 

“H-hihh…HIH’KtsSHUHH! Hih’KSsSHUH!... Snff!...Come in,” 

Vaggie carefully opened both doors, slipping inside as they closed with a thud behind her, “Miss Carmine, I-” she began, only to trail off upon noticing the sight in front of her. 

Carmilla was wearing navy blue sweat pants and a bleach-stained T-shirt from an old Verosika Mayday concert, her hair was put aside in a slightly-messy fishtail braid, and she was sat up in bed, cross-legged on top of her blankets, playing video games. 

“I didn’t think you’d be into this sort of thing,” Vaggie said, bewildered, “Slaughterhouse V- Collector’s Edition…” 

Carmilla rolled her eyes, not taking her focus away from her game even as she muffled a ticklish cough behind clenched teeth, “I normally don’t have time to play,” she remarked, “I’ve beaten this one twice and I’m going for my third run on a new save- snff!” 

Vaggie winced at the raspy quality of Carmilla’s voice, but said nothing of it, “You seem… surprisingly lucid,” she said. 

“One of the perks of selling things to all of Hell is that you have connections to all of Hell,” Carmilla snickered, gesturing towards her nightstand with her head, still mashing buttons on her controller. 

Vaggie followed Carmilla’s gesture with her eyes, picking up a pink bottle full of blue liquid medicine, “Sloth Pharmaceuticals… you’re taking drugs from the sloth ring?” she asked. 

“Good shit,” Carmilla said, feeling her throat struggle as her voice cracked, wrenching her eyes shut briefly to clear her throat, “Might not be able to fix the rest of me, but keeping my temperature under control has been great.” 

“Nice… can we talk? I have some questions I wanted to ask you,” Vaggie requested, still enamored with the speed at which Carmilla was pressing buttons. 

Carmilla shot Vaggie a brief nod, pausing her game and setting her controller aside before reaching over to grab a handful of tissues, blowing her ‘nose’ until the tissues were damp, “H-hih’tshhuh! Hih’KTSCHUHH!...snFF!” 

“Do you remember anything from the day you got sick?” Vaggie asked. 

“I was-” Carmilla paused to cough, “-on a walk in the Doomsday District, and I went shopping for nail polish… that’s basically iihh- H-hihh’ktshhuh! Hih’ksshh!” 

“Did you come across anyone else who was acting suspicious? Or anyone else who looked or sounded different?” Vaggie asked, trying to piece things together. 

“Nope,” Carmilla replied, grabbing the reusable cup from her bedside table and taking eager gulps from it, only breaking away to cough hoarsely into her elbow before taking another sip. 

“Water?” Vaggie asked. 

“Yes, with mango and honey… and Beelzejuice,” Carmilla said, choking back another hoarse cough and taking a few heavy chugs from her cup. 

Suddenly, as though a gust of air blew through her bedroom, Carmilla shivered, rubbing her upper arms with her large hands and struggling to contain the trickle of mess down her face with a few wet sniffles. Desperate, Carmilla burrowed slightly under her covers, tucking her legs and feet under her blanket and fighting against her teeth to keep them from chattering. 

“Are you okay?” Vaggie asked, her fingertips twitching as she watched Carmilla give a shuddering exhale, noticing the skin on her cheeks was tinged a pinkish-red. 

“My medicine just w-wore off… snff!...I can’t take any more for four hours or it’ll damage my li-Iihh-HIH’KTSCHUHH! Hih’KssHHUH! Hnk’TShh! Hi-IH’KTSsXHHT! Hih’KTSHHUEW!- liver… snFFF!” Carmilla replied, plucking three tissues out of the box on her bed and loudly blowing her ‘nose’ with a resounding honk that sounded like her sinuses were vibrating, “Euch…” 

Vaggie walked closer to Carmilla’s bedside, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, and reaching out to tuck a strand of Carmilla’s hair away from her fever-warmed face, “Are you sure there’s nothing that happened the day you got sick? I know it’s hard to remember,” she asked. 

Carmilla wracked her brain, briefly turning away from Vaggie to cover a hacking cough with her arm, one throat-scraping cough coming after another until her itchy, sensitive lungs were satisfied and her voice had been thoroughly wrecked. 

Upon regaining her composure, catching her breath, and taking a big sip from her water mixture, Carmilla turned back to address Vaggie, “I uhm-” she paused, clearing her throat with the harshest grunt she could manage, “-when I was out on my walk- snff!- there were pockets of that red mist- Hih’ktshh! Hnk’Txht!- hanging in the air. I stopped twice to smell them because the mist smelled like flowers… I think my throat started to feel sore after the second time.” 

Vaggie grinned, two pieces of the puzzle finally managing to click together in her head, “You have no idea how helpful that is, Miss Carmine,” she said with a bright smile, “I just need to find the source of the mist… and hopefully that’ll bring us one step closer to finding a treatment!” 

“Well- snRK!- ‘scuse mbe… if you’re going to try and find where it’s coming from on foot, it’ll take a long time, at this point the mist covers half of Pentagram City now, you’d need someone who could point and zoom on any random area in town to see if you can find the source,” Carmilla pointed out, her entire body being rattled by a violent shiver, causing her to slide a bit further under her blankets, pulling them up to her chest. 

“I don’t even know if there’s anyone in town who fits that description who’d be willing to help me,” Vaggie sighed, tugging at her lower eyelids in frustration, “This is going to take forever.” 

Vaggie’s grumbling was interrupted by Carmilla’s flat screen television swapping from her paused game to an emergency broadcast of 666 News, the blaring music making Vaggie jump out of her skin. 

“What the hell?! If this jump cut ruins my save file I’m going to-” Carmilla waved a hand in front of her face as her sinuses itched, “-to… to… Hih’Kschhuh! Hih’KTshuhhh! Hi-Ihh’KSHHUuw!... nevermind.” 

“Good Afternoon citizens of Pentagram City, I apologize for the lateness of this news bulletin, our esteemed anchorwoman Miss Killjoy is incapacitated at present, so I, CEO of VoxTech and head of the VoxTech Broadcast Network, will be delivering today’s news!” Vox greeted from the other side of the screen with a charming smile. 

Vaggie stared at Carmilla’s VoxTech television in awe, “I forgot about him… the Voyeurscopes capture footage all over town 24/7,” she muttered to herself, “I have to try and talk to him.”  

“Welcome to day number 40 of the Red Spread, while infection rates seem to have capped out at 96% of Pentagram City, we’ve received word from Imp City and neighboring territories in the Pride ring that infections have raged out of control practically overnight,” Vox explained, gesturing to a bar graph that was next to him on screen, “With the infection coverage added up, The Red Spread has infected approximately 79% of the Pride Ring.” 

Carmilla folded her arms, “I can’t believe he interrupted my game for this… Hi-ihh’KSshhuh!...Hnk’tchew!” she grumbled, scrubbing the back of her hand under her nostrils to wrestle with the ever-building itch in her sinuses.

“While research is still being conducted with an incredibly reduced team, treatment options that completely eradicate infection are still nonexistent,” Vox said, shifting from his usual broadcast grin into something more somber and collected, “In spite of this infection raging on, no severe complications or mortalities have been observed.” 

Vaggie continued watching, scrolling through her phone in between glances at the screen to try and get the location of the Vees’ studio tower on the Northwest side of the Pentagram. After a bit of searching, the studio tower wasn’t very far from the Carmine Weapons factory, she could make it there in about half an hour if she hurried. 

“We are also pleased to announce that due to this ongoing crisis, we have not released our typical programming block due to new material not being filmed with the majority of our staff out sick,” Vox began, clasping his hands together and returning to his charming smile, “so the VoxTech Broadcast Network will be operating free-of-charge for the remainder of this tumultuous time, and our premium network clients will be refunded for the past two months of service. Thank you for your continued patronage, Pentagram City!” 

With those words, the emergency news broadcast ended and Carmilla’s screen returned to her paused playthrough of Slaughterhouse V, which caused her to let out a sigh of relief that quickly devolved into a rough, wheezy cough, that only let up when Vaggie gave Carmilla an anxious pat on the back. 

“I’m going to try and speak with Vox, he might be exactly who I need to help me find the source of the Red Spread,” Vaggie said with a determined look on her face, “Do you need anything before I leave?” 

Carmilla fought back another febrile shiver, sniffling pitifully and burying herself further into her blankets, “Not really,” she yawned, her voice still painfully hoarse, “just turn out the lights on your way out- the switch on the wall- I’m too tired to play with this stupid fever… I think I’ll just take a nap.” 

“Sounds like a plan, rest well,” Vaggie said, brushing a strand of Carmilla’s hair out of her face after she got comfortable under the covers, turning to leave the room and flipping the switch on Carmilla’s bedroom wall to turn off the overhead lights, “Oh… by the way, I made that recipe you gave me, it was good. Thanks again for that.” 

Carmilla yawned, stretching out and clutching her pillow like a stuffed animal, “Don’t mention it… Hnk’Tchew! Hi-Ih’Ktshhew!” she replied drowsily, her eyelids drooping as she slowly fell into a peaceful sleep, her slight snoring audible from behind her bedroom door. 

Gathering herself and preparing for another lengthy walk, Vaggie wandered down the halls of the factory until she managed to find the front door, heading out and following the path laid out by her phone’s GPS system toward the Vees’ studio tower. 

On her walk, Vaggie was stunned by the empty streets, not a person in sight for blocks and blocks, and occasional sniffling, coughing, and sneezing could be heard- albeit muffled- from the windows of the various apartment buildings. 

Eventually, Vaggie reached the revolving front door to the Vees’ broadcast tower, better known as the VoxTech Enterprises headquarters. Crossing her fingers, Vaggie slipped through the revolving door and was surprised to find that the building was still teeming with noticeably-healthy workers and interns… and also a handful of noticeably-ill ones, including the runny-nosed cat demon who was running the front desk on the ground floor. 

“Welcombe to VoxTech E’dterprises- SnFF!- how cad I help you today?” the secretary asked, looking at Vaggie from her desk as she sifted through various papers. 

“I- I’d like to speak to Vox,” Vaggie said with a patient smile as the secretary loudly blew her nose before tossing her crumpled tissue in the trash can next to her desk. 

“You’re id luck, due to the Red Spread- Ih’pshew! I-ihh’pSshew!- his schedule is wide opend… I’ll let hib kdow you’re od your way up- SnRK!- uch, ‘scuse be,” the secretary said, dabbing at her sensitive nostrils with a tissue, her sniffling accomplishing virtually nothing outside of slightly shifting the congestion packed into her head. 

“Thank you… I’m sorry you have to work while you’re sick,” Vaggie said, attempting to offer sympathy, looking a bit confused when the secretary chuckled. 

“It’s fide… I was healthy whe’d I cabe id this mbordi’g… it’s hit mbe like a ton of bricks… Ih’pshew! Ih’pSzzshieww!... I cad’t wait to go home and take a ndice hot bath and crawl into bed,” the secretary replied, giving a wistful sigh before plucking two more tissues out of the box on her desk and pinching them over her sensitive nostrils, “i-iHh’TsSshiew! Ih’pshew! IH’PSshiew!” 

“Bless you,” Vaggie said nervously, watching the secretary pull out another handful of tissues, emptying her sinuses with a heavy gurgling blow, her eyes beginning to water.

“Thag’k you,” the secretary replied, pushing a button on the phone at her desk and waiting until the line clicked to speak, “Mbister Vox, there’s someone here to speak with you- Ih’kshhew!- mby apologies, Sir.” 

“Send them up, I’m on the 30th floor… bless you, by the way, feel free to head home if you can’t finish the rest of your shift,” Vox replied from the other end of the line before hanging up the phone. 

“30th floor, you can take the elevators that are down the hall to your left- SnFF!,” the secretary instructed, packing a few of her items into her purse and tugging a heavy sweater over her frame, shivering slightly, “I’b goi’g hobe.”  

“Thank you,” Vaggie replied, preparing herself to head towards the elevator, “Hope you feel better!” 

“Thag’k you,” the secretary said, wiping her nose and leaving the building through the revolving doors as Vaggie wandered down the path she was given until she approached a row of elevators, hopping on the first unoccupied one she could find and pressing a button to take her to the 30th floor. 

Upon arriving at the 30th floor of the broadcast tower, Vaggie looked around, peeking into a few random studio doors and finding no one, wondering if she’d gone to the wrong floor or lost track of him, when suddenly she ran face-first into a large, lanky figure wearing a blue suit. 

“Oh! There you are,” Vaggie said with a nervous chuckle, dusting herself off, “Hello, Vox.” 

“Ohhh… hello there, you’re the angel girl the princess is romantically involved with, aren’t you?” Vox said with a curt wave, “Any reason in particular you’re in my building snooping around?” 

“I- I know that you don’t really want to speak to me due to my connections with Alastor, but I’m looking for the source of the Red Spread to attempt to find a treatment and you’re the only one with access to every corner of the Pentagram thanks to your surveillance drones,” Vaggie explained, her words rambling as she silently crossed her fingers that her plea was convincing- she’d forgotten to take her spear with her before she left, so she unfortunately had no leverage. 

“Hmm… a noble cause, if ever there was one,” Vox snickered, “Right this way, I’ll have to take you to my secondary surveillance room, the primary one is for my eyes only.” 

“R-really? You’re just- really?!” Vaggie replied, a bit bewildered. 

“Of course, anything to help!” Vox replied with a camera-ready smile, only for his face to soften into something much more neutral and comfortable, “-if you want to know the truth, I’m just happy to be having a conversation with someone who isn’t constantly sneezing.” 

“Haha… it is kinda nice,” Vaggie said, following Vox into the elevator and getting out on the top floor of the tower- the location of the Vees’ personal penthouse, “I honestly don’t know why I’m not sick.” 

“I mean, the answer is pretty obvious, this infection only attaches to demon immune systems- resident of Hell or not, that golden blood in your veins isn’t what the germs are looking for,” Vox scoffed, dusting off the front of his suit with a splayed hand before hanging up his jacket on the wall.  

“That makes sense,” Vaggie said, staring at a recently-healed cut on her thumb that was noticeably a dull gold, bottling up a heavy sigh and deciding to redirect her focus to something else, “what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“How come you aren’t sick?” 

Vox leaned down until his face was at-level with Vaggie’s before knocking loudly on his head’s glass screen and running his fingers along the array of buttons, wires, and switches on his metal neck, “I don’t have an immune system, or lungs, my soul is basically the only trace of my humanity that I have left.” 

“Oh… that makes sense, actually,” Vaggie said, quietly shuddering upon noticing the 10 foot figure hunched over a kitchen island, draped haphazardly across a bar stool. 

“H-ihh… Ih’psshoo! IhH’Pshhuue! Hiih-Ih’pssshiEW!,” 

Vox rolled his eyes, walking over to the other side of the kitchen island and pinching his lover’s face with icy claws, “What are we doing out of bed?” he asked, his tone warm in contrast with his exasperated and threatening eyes. 

“SnFF!- Mby throat hurts… a’d I can’t find mby replacement Voxxy,” Valentino whined, his consonants dulled heavily by congestion and his red eyes brimming with tears. 

Vox turned to face Vaggie, gesturing for her to wait a moment before turning back to Valentino, “I’ll have Kitty bring you some tea with honey, but you aren’t supposed to be out of bed,” he said, gently wiping the tears out of Valentino’s eyes with a tissue from his pocket. 

“Okay,” Valentino replied, “Help mbe find replacement Voxxy? I can’t see mbore thad two feet ahead of mbe-ee…IHH’TSHUU! Ih’pshew! I-ihh’PSHHEW!” 

Vox blinked, pulling up security camera footage from Valentino and Vox’s shared bedroom onto his screen and scanning the room for a giant stuffed shark he’d bought Valentino to keep him occupied while he was in bed, “Aha! There it is… it’s on the floor on my side of the bed, I’ll have Kitty hand it to you,” he said, gently rubbing the back of Valentino’s hand. 

“Thag’k you Voxxyyy-Yihh’tshhew! Ih’tshhuu! Ih’psshiEW!,” Valentino said, the sharp, squeaky sneezes scraping his sinuses on the way out, “Ohhh… all this sdeezi’g is givi’g mbe a headache.” 

“I know, it’s okay… what flavor of tea do you want?” Vox asked, massaging his lover’s sinuses with his cool fingertips. 

“Ginger- snrKK! SnfFFF!- Ughh,” Valentino replied, squeaking in frustration at the pain building up in his swollen sinuses, “I’b so tired of bei’g sick.” 

“I know, I know,” Vox replied, stroking the back of Valentino’s cheek, “Come on, get up and get back to bed, Kitty will be right in to take good care of you, one of the succubi on staff even went topside to get you some more of this.” 

Vox fished around in his pockets before pulling out a dark blue jar with a teal lid, unscrewing the top and gently wafting the menthol-scented fumes into Valentino’s face. 

“Vaporub!” Valentino exclaimed with relief, dunking two fingers into the jar and slathering the fragrant balm on his chest, his squeaky clogged sinuses suddenly loosening as mess trickled down his face, “Mmm… oh that feels good, thag’k you Voxxyyyi-ihh’pshuu! Ih’pshuue! IHH’PSchhew!” 

“Bless you, bless you, you sound like you’re breathing better already,” Vox said with a smile, patting Valentino on the back and sighing with relief when he disappeared down the halls on his way back to bed, “Phew…” 

“So, where’s your secondary surveillance room?” Vaggie asked. 

“A few doors down, I’ll show you- wait a second,” Vox said, whipping his head around at the significantly shorter figure trudging into the kitchen wearing boxer shorts and a bralette, “Why are you out of bed?!” 

“Don’t shout at me,” Velvette replied, punctuating her sentence with a desperate, wheezy cough as she fought back an aggressive shiver from the chill of the air conditioning, “I’m getting more cough syrup.” 

“You just took a double dose of cough syrup an hour ago,” Vox argued, folding his arms, “You can’t have any more.” 

“I’m a grown woman, I can have more if I want,” Velvette replied, sticking out her tongue and struggling to open the cap on the bottle- a bottle that was not child proof by any means. 

“No, you can’t,” Vox said, plucking the bottle of raspberry cough syrup out of Velvette’s grasp and putting it on a shelf out of her reach. 

“This is bullshit!” Velvette huffed, turning away from Vox to muffle a violent coughing fit into her elbow, “I can’t stop fucking coughing, I can’t sleep!” 

Vox leaned against the kitchen island and shot Velvette an all-knowing glance, “Maybe if you drank something- don’t open your mouth and lie to me, I know you haven’t, I have today’s entire footage reel to prove it- that might help,” he said. 

Velvette rolled her eyes, “I don’t want to, it hurts too much and it’s too cold, I can’t stand having anything to drink right now,” she huffed. 

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Vox said, snapping his fingers as Velvette’s metal drink tumbler- filled to the brim with hot Yorkshire Gold with honey and lemon- appeared in his hand, “you are going to drink this, and you are going to put on some long pajama pants and a shirt with sleeves, and get under the covers in your bed.” 

Velvette opened her mouth to object, but was instead met with another violent cough, “Fiine,” she replied, taking the cup from Vox and taking a cautious sip, her previously cranky gaze melting as the liquid gold cascaded down her raw, scratchy throat, “Mmmm…” 

“Mhm, feels better, doesn’t it?” Vox teased, paying Velvette no mind when she raised her middle finger in response, “Yeah yeah, fuck you too, go change and get back in bed.” 

“Fine,” Velvette replied in between desperate gulps of her tea, walking out of the kitchen and heading back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

“Okay, I think we’re done with diversions, now we can go look at the surveillance footage,” Vox announced, clasping his hands together and gesturing for Vaggie to follow him as he wandered down the halls of the penthouse until he approached a set of double doors decorated with the VoxTech logo, “here we are.” 

Upon entering the room, Vaggie was bewildered by the massive wall of monitors that showed live footage from the voyeur scopes that hovered in the air all over Pentagram City- not to mention security cameras for basically every business and institution in town due to VoxTech’s virtual monopoly on camera sales. 

“So,” Vox began, cracking his knuckles and sitting in his office chair at the desk against the wall, “Where do you need to look?” 

“I spoke with one of the first people to get sick with the red spread, and she told me that she didn’t start feeling sick until after she went for a walk in the Doomsday district and breathed in that red mist,” Vaggie said, “If we can find the source of the red mist, I think that will be the source of the red spread!” 

“Makes sense,” Vox replied, pulling up every camera he had available in the Doomsday district and scanning each monitor with careful eyes, “Hmm… not that one, not that one either… there’s so much smog everywhere it’s hard to know where to look.” Vox wiggled a joystick on his desk, gently adjusting the position of a cluster of security cameras stationed on the rooftops of a few buildings. 

A harsh cough from the doorway made Vox straighten his posture and turn around, seeing a drowsy Velvette standing in the doorway- now wearing a pair of fleece pajama pants adorned with gummy bears and a long-sleeved pajama shirt. 

“You keep looking, I have to deal with this- Why are we out of bed now?” Vox asked, raising an eyebrow as his voice gained the typical tinny electronic quality that it took on when he felt particularly intense emotions. 

“I need some more m-medicine,” Velvette replied, vigorously rubbing her upper arms and fighting to keep her teeth from chattering, “I-ihh’tssshoo! Ih’tshhew! I-ihh’kxhsshew!” 

Vox rolled his eyes, briefly turning to make sure Vaggie was still attempting to check the screens for the source of the smog, before turning back to address his colleague, “We just had this conversation, you are not taking any more cough syrup… besides, your cough sounds much better, you should be able to get some sleep now,” he said. 

“I don’t need cough syrup… snFF!... I need the paracetamol, I’m freezing,” Velvette complained, the slight and refreshing breeze of the air conditioner making the fashion designer shiver as though she was wading in icy water, her forehead shiny with sweat. 

Vox shot another cautious glance back at Vaggie, before cupping Velvette’s face with his left hand and scanning her body with the infrared filter applied over his eyes until a temperature reading of 103.8 degrees flashed in the corner of his screen, “That is a little high, and the more comfortable you are, the sooner you can get to sleep,” Vox said, pulling a bottle out of his pocket and handing Velvette two tiny square pills, “There you go, that should make you feel better, now get back to bed.” 

“Thank you, V, have fun in your creepy stalker room- Ihh’tshhoo!” Velvette replied, waving Vox goodbye as she headed back to her bedroom. 

Vox approached the wall of monitors again with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking gently on his heels, “Any luck yet?” he asked.

Vaggie shook her head at Vox, continuing to scan the wall of screens with her eyes, squinting against the harsh blue light, until she saw something peculiar on one screen in the left-hand corner of the wall.

“There!” Vaggie shouted, leaning against Vox’s rolling chair and gently shaking it, pointing to the monitor she’d located a clue on, “Right there! Look at how the mist is moving in that shot, see?” 

Vox directed his attention to the monitor and noticed that the red mist was billowing out of the back corner of a building, almost like smoke from a chimney, “That must be where it’s coming from… it’s on Tsunami Boulevard behind the gun store,” he said. 

“Alright! Let’s go, if we hurry we can get there in twenty minutes,” Vaggie said, excitedly bouncing on her heels, only for Vox to grab her by the hand, the two of them vanishing into a crackle of electricity and teleporting to Tsunami Boulevard by way of the surveillance camera pointed at the gun store, “Woah… you can do that?” 

“I can at least, it’s fun most of the time, sometimes you get bored of it and decide to walk, but when urgency is key it’s very helpful,” Vox replied, dusting himself off and peering through the dense cloud of red mist into the alley behind the gun store, “I think there’s something back there.” 

Vaggie walked closer to Vox and leaned over, squinting and straining her vision to make out a dark form behind all of the mist, “There is… let’s keep going, slow and steady,” she instructed. 

Vox took slow, careful steps through the alley, barely making a sound as Vaggie attempted to make out more details of the figure they were approaching, eventually realizing that the something was in fact someone. 

“Someone’s back there-” Vaggie whispered, cupping her hands around her mouth to call out to the figure as they approached it, “Hello?!” 

No response outside of Vaggie’s own voice echoing throughout the alley, but the pair continued to inch their way forward, the figure seemingly unfazed by their presence. 

“It might be a decoy… or a mannequin,” Vox said in a hushed tone as he practically tip-toed forward, having trouble keeping such a slow pace with someone half his height. 

“Helloo?! I know you’re over there… we have some questions for you!” Vaggie called out, her voice still rippling off of the brick walls and echoing for at least another two blocks. 

Silence. 

“Okay, what the fuck?!” Vaggie asked no one in particular, shrugging in frustration as she quickened her pace, deciding she was fed up with the kid gloves technique, “Hey! I know you can hear me, jackass!” 

Vox snickered, sighing with relief as he began to walk with his regular stride while Vaggie stomped ahead, still shouting into the mist. 

“If you aren’t gonna run away, the least you could do is fucking acknowledge me, shithead!” Vaggie exclaimed, shaking her fist at the motionless figure whose silhouette was becoming clearer as the pair got closer, with Vaggie’s tirade being cut off by the sound of a window screen sliding open. 

“Will you shut the fuck up?! I’ve got a killer fucki’g headache and I’b tryi’g to sleep it off,” a cranky demon with particularly long and curly horns called out from his bedroom window. 

“Oh! S-sorry! I’m used to shouting over the city’s background noise,” Vaggie replied. 

“Look arou’d, girl, the ed’tire city is id bed… E-Eihh’kxxhhtt! E-eeihh’kzZzht!” 

“Bless you!” 

“Thag’k you,” the demon paused to let out a barking cough, “Look, I was godda threaten you or somethin’, but I’b tired… so please just keep it down?” 

“I will, I’m sorry,” Vaggie replied, shooting the demon a remorseful thumbs-up, “Feel better!” 

“I wish,” the demon grumbled, shutting his window and going back to bed, leaving Vaggie and Vox to their own devices once again. 

“Kudos to you for acknowledging him, I’d have just told him to fuck off,” Vox snickered, his air filtration system whirring slightly as it processed the dense red mist in the air. 

“People are at their most vulnerable when they don’t feel well… being an asshole to someone when they’re in that state just seems cruel,” Vaggie said in reply, marching forward and attempting to make out the details of the silhouette at the root of the billowing clouds of red mist. 

“Fair enough,” Vox said, readjusting his stride to allow Vaggie time to keep up with him. 

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of walking- but was only ten minutes- Vaggie and Vox managed to cut through the mist to find its source leaned up against the back wall of the gun store. 

Standing in the alley, unfazed, was a slim demon of average height with hands that appeared to be shaped like pangolin claws, a long scaly tail, and a long face that was covered by an intricate gas mask. The mouthpiece of the gas mask was where the red mist was coming from, leaking from the holes in the mask like a toxic fog machine. 

Vaggie swallowed a bit of embarrassment, as she realized why the demon had been ignoring her loud pleas for their attention- they were wearing a heavy pair of chunky over-ear headphones and bobbing their head as though listening to music. Waving her hand in front of the demon’s face, Vaggie watched them lower their headphones and finally give the pair their undivided attention. 

“What’s up? I’m not a dealer, fyi, I just like this alley, coke guy’s a block down, peyote’s three blocks down, and there’s a weed vending machine around the corner,” they said in a monotonous voice. 

“Not here for drugs, we’re here for you,” Vaggie said, “Who are you?” 

“My name used to be Cassandra Sinclair… but I go by ‘Noxxious’ these days,” 

“Okay ‘Noxxious’, you do know that the shit you’re pumping out is making everyone sick, right?” Vaggie asked, placing her hands on her hips as Vox hovered over the two of them from behind, intimidating Noxxious with a scornful look in his eyes. 

“Well yeah, that was kind of the point,” Noxxious replied, tilting their head to one side. 

“You did this on purpose?!” Vaggie asked, furrowing her eyebrows. 

“Mmhm, turned out better than I expected, no one’s dead, right?” Noxxious inquired, excitement and pride in their voice. 

“Almost the entire city has been sick for over a month!” Vaggie shouted, balling her fists and cursing herself for leaving her spear at the hotel. 

“Oh shit, it’s been that long? I got lost in time, man… it’s been so peaceful,” Noxxious said with a wistful sigh, stuffing their hands in their pockets. 

“If I may ask… why did you do this, exactly? It’s not like you stand to gain anything from it,” Vox asked. 

“Listen for a second,” Noxxious requested, the group listening to the heavy silence of the empty city streets for a few moments, “No cars, no shouting, no footsteps, no talking, no chewing, nothing. It’s wonderful.” 

“You did all of this so you could have some peace and quiet?!” Vaggie asked, “You have headphones!” 

“They weren’t enough, nothing was enough,” Noxxious said through clenched teeth, taking a deep breath, “Mind if I ramble about something personal?” 

Vaggie, in spite of her obvious rage and frustration, simply shrugged at Noxxious, motioning for them to go ahead, turning to Vox and staring at him incredulously. 

“I’ve only been here for six months… when I was alive I hated noise, I’d rather rip out my eardrums than listen to all of the noises overlapping all day, every day,” Noxxious began, straightening their posture, “I realized that people are pretty quiet when they’re sick… they keep to themselves. It made perfect sense.” 

Vaggie gestured at Vox, still puzzled, but decided not to interrupt.

“I went to school for microbiology, and I figured if I could get enough people sick, I could have peace and quiet,” Noxxious said with a determined- albeit hidden- smile, “Except I wasn’t very careful, and I got into a little bit of trouble when my first attempt went sideways.” 

Vaggie and Vox squinted their eyes when Noxxious held up a frayed, coffee-stained newspaper clipping that read ‘Bioterrorist Cassandra Sinclair due to receive death penalty’. 

“Is that your plan?! To kill everyone?!” Vaggie asked, scanning the area for something she could use as a weapon. 

“No! I already said that was an accident, I never wanted anyone to get hurt, I just wanted a break from the noise!” Noxxious explained, near tears, “Look, when I got here after my execution, I noticed this blue stuff coming out of my mask; when people around me breathed in the mist, they would start sneezing.” 

Vox’s face brightened, an impressed smile spreading across his screen, “So you can just infinitely leak mist filled with custom viruses?” he asked rhetorically, “That is impressive, you could have some real sway with that kind of power if you weren’t a walking biohazard.” 

“I don’t want ‘sway’, I don’t wanna hurt anyone, I just wanted quiet,” Noxxious explained, twisting the filtered discs on the end of their mask so that the holes were covered, stopping the red mist at the source, “I can produce an antidote, I promise.” 

“Thank you,” Vaggie sighed, relaxing her shoulders as she watched Noxxious fiddle with their mask, briefly opening the discs and shooting out a puff of blue mist before closing their mask again as the blue mist seemingly clung to the red, slowly spreading through the air.  

“There, that should be enough to get it to stretch across the Pride Ring, and then eventually it’ll disappear on its own,” Noxxious explained, “Once someone breathes it in, they’ll be cured.” 

“Good, things can finally get back to normal,” Vox scoffed, cracking his knuckles before pulling something out of his pocket after seeing Noxxious’s pitiful face, “As a reward for producing the antidote, here’s the final prototype for VoxTech’s ‘DJ Deafener’ headphones, with active noise canceling so good, you can’t hear a train coming.” 

“That’s a good tagline,” Vaggie said, chuckling. 

“It isn’t just a tagline, eight of our product testers were crushed gruesomely by trains,” Vox replied. 

Noxxious carefully placed the headphones on their head and their body immediately relaxed as they reclined against the back wall of the gun store once again, “These are incredible, I can’t hear anything!” they exclaimed, tears leaking from the plastic eyes of their mask, “Thank you!” 

Vox opened his mouth to respond, only to remember that Noxxious was effectively deaf, and opted to shoot the bioterrorist a thumbs up instead as a sudden boom of thunder could be heard overhead. 

“Well, I think I should go spread the good news, haha-” Vox chuckled to himself, “I’d offer to teleport you back to the tower with me, but it’s about the same distance to walk there from here as it would be to walk there from the tower.”  

“No worries, I’ve got it,” Vaggie replied, “Thanks for your help.” 

“Same to you,” Vox said, shooting Vaggie a playful salute before teleporting back to the broadcast tower in a crackle of blue electricity, just as a light drizzle began, raindrops falling on Vaggie’s head as she made her walk back to the hotel. 

Twenty minutes passed, and back at the hotel, the parlor full of drowsy sinners jumped when the peaceful nature documentary they were watching was interrupted by the blaring theme of an incoming 666 News bulletin. 

“That scared the piss outta me,” Angel panted, emptying his sinuses into a tissue with a damp blow, “Wonder what the hell happened this time...snff!” 

“Hello citizens of Pentagram City and the greater Pride Ring, I am happy to announce that a cure for the Red Spread has been found!” Vox’s voice rang out from the speakers of the CRT television, “It has been released into the air for ease of access, take a step outside or open a window and the formula should resolve your infection! Have a wonderful day, and stay healthy! This message was brought to you by VoxTech Enterprises!” 

“Vaggie did it- SnFF!- she figured it out! Yaay…” Charlie cheered weakly, wiping off the drippy underside of her nose, “Who’s gonna get up to open the window?” 

“I got it,” Angel croaked, clearing his throat as he slowly untangled himself from Husk and stood on his two wobbling legs, slowly walking towards the large stained glass doors on either side of the bar and struggling a bit before swinging one open, revealing the intense rain that had developed outside but also letting in a burst of antidote-heavy air into the room. 

Taking a shallow breath through his mouth, Angel blinked and felt his sinuses clearing up, his tender throat healing, and his fever breaking. Angel’s fur was suddenly damp with sweat as he stood proudly and energetically on his own two feet, spinning around to face the rest of the group and flashing a bright smile, “It works! Oh my god, I never thought I’d be this fuckin’ excited to be able to breathe through my coke holes again!” he cheered. 

Niffty took in a brief whiff of air and hurriedly got up from her nest of blankets upon returning to her full energy, “I feel so much better!” she cheered, suddenly wincing upon realizing that she was surrounded by germy blankets and used tissues, “Euch… this is awful, what a mess- gotta take a shower first, wash all the germs off me, then I can clean this up- be right back!” 

In less time than the rest of the group could blink, Niffty had vanished upstairs to shower. 

Husk poked his head out from under the blanket where he’d been resting while cradled against Angel’s torso, taking a sharp breath and purring contentedly as he felt the watery congestion in his sinuses dry up, and his ears unclogged with a satisfying Pop! “Mmmm, that’s more like it,” Husk muttered, slowly moving until he was back on his feet, ignoring the dampness of his sweaty fur. 

“I gotta rinse all this sweat off and condition my fur, you comin’ Pretty Kitty?” Angel asked, attempting to finger-comb some of the excess sweat out of his fuzzy white hair. 

“Right behind you,” Husk replied, following Angel as the two wandered upstairs together to take a hot shower in Angel’s bathroom.

 Charlie inhaled with a watery sniffle, sighing with relief as her symptoms faded away and the tired bags underneath her eyes vanished, “Phew… much better,” she yawned, rubbing her eyes, turning to look at Alastor, who was still deep into a fever-induced slumber, shivering under his blanket whale draped across the loveseat. 

Charlie walked over to the loveseat and lifted up Alastor’s head from the back, gently pinching his chapped nostrils shut to force him to take a crackling inhale through his mouth. Once Alastor had taken an inhale of panacea-heavy air, Charlie backed away, wanting to be sure that Lucid Alastor wouldn’t know she was touching him. 

Alastor slowly rose up from his reclined position, muffling a final wet cough behind clenched teeth and arching his back to stretch, finally in his right mind after nearly two months of fistfighting with his immune system, “Ahh, that was a satisfying nap,” he muttered to himself, only to notice his body was still slick with sweat, and his hair was about half an inch longer than it was when he last checked. 

Suddenly, Alastor was hit with the memory of what had happened before fever rendered his mind blank, and he struggled not to flush with embarrassment, “Whatever transpired while I was indisposed isn’t to be discussed. At all.” he said, threateningly brandishing his microphone. 

“Gotcha! We don’t have to talk about it, Alastor, don’t worry, I’m just glad you’re feeling better!” Charlie said with a jovial grin. 

“Splendid,” Alastor replied, tapping his microphone against the floor before vanishing into his own shadow. 

Right as Alastor disappeared, the double doors to the hotel’s entrance swung open, and a sopping wet Vaggie stepped inside. 

“You did it!” Charlie cheered, rushing over to embrace her girlfriend in a tight hug, “What was causing it? I have so many questions!” 

“A sinner who used to be a bioterrorist was leaking the virus into the air… honestly they were persuaded to stop pretty easily… snff!,” Vaggie explained, dragging the back of her wrist under her nose to scrub away an itch. 

“That’s good, I’m glad the antidote is a mist too, that way pockets of trapped air will sanitize the Hellivator when it starts operating again,” Charlie said, “It’s so nice this is all over, and it’s all thanks to you, Vaggie, I’m so proud of you!” 

“Tha-a-ahh… thanks, Baby,” Vaggie replied, smiling when Charlie planted a kiss on her cheek. 

“Heyy, now that I’m feeling better, I think you deserve a special reward for all your hard work,” Charlie whispered suggestively, kissing Vaggie’s neck and gently pressing her palm against her girlfriend’s thigh, “What do you think?” 

“I uhm… Snff- snff!... I… I-ihh,” Vaggie began, her breath hitching as a tickle built to a crescendo in her nose, “Hi-IIhh’Ddtssheww! Ih’Ddshhoo!” 

Charlie’s aroused smile flipped, concern shimmering in her eyes as she watched Vaggie sniffle against a slightly runny nose, cold rain water still trickling down her face from her soaked hairline. 

“I think I’m getting a cold,” Vaggie groaned, a pitiful look in her eyes as she plucked two tissues from a box on a nearby table and blew her nose with a sharp honk, “Hih’dDtshhew! Ih’DdshhEWw!” 

Charlie’s sensitive heart melted and she scooped Vaggie into her arms, not even pretending to care about the fact that Vaggie’s rain- soaked body was getting her pajamas wet, “Aww, Vaggie… you did such a good job looking after everything, now it’s my turn to look after you,” she said, kissing Vaggie’s forehead, “Let’s get you a hot bath and a change of clothes.” 

“Yaaay,” Vaggie cheered softly, wrapping her arms around Charlie’s neck and trying not to shiver as she was carried upstairs, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Vaggie,” Charlie replied, gently massaging Vaggie’s back over her wet shirt as the couple disappeared up the staircase. 

[grayskies2525]

An Admirable Denial |M/M| Part 9

Word Count: 5,714

Link to all parts: An Admirable Denial (14 parts)

Content Warnings:

A very small injury happens at the beginning and there’s mention of blood, but it doesn’t get descriptive

Some homophobia toward the end. I don't go in-depth but it couldn't be avoided.

Some pretty heavy family toxicity stuff

When Connor wakes up the next morning, through bleary eyes, he sees Felix fast asleep next to him in bed. Connor ignores the congestion that has taken even firmer residence in his chest and sinuses, as he lets himself simply stare at his boyfriend. Felix is more an amalgam of blankets and sheets than an actual human being, but this is Felix’s typical state in the morning. Connor smiles at the comfort the familiarity brings, even as he resists shivering from his own body being only half-covered in blankets. No matter how many in-depth conversations they’ve had about this issue in the past — how Connor is also a person, and therefore, also gets cold, and would be quite appreciative of Felix at least making an attempt to share the covers — his words never seem to take. After a year in New York with all the blankets and covers he needed during the night, Connor can confidently say, having Felix next to him is undoubtedly worth the tradeoff. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Felix, in his typical mole-like fashion, manages to somehow burrow even more deeply into the covers. This, of course, results in more being taken away from Connor. Connor just sighs; he needs to get up anyway, since mornings with Felix demand having a full pot of coffee made before Felix wakes up. Connor’s always been amazed by Felix’s ability to prioritize coffee first thing in the morning over anything else — even using the bathroom. 

After putting on his glasses, Connor stands up — then instantly sits back down. Knowing full and well rooms aren’t supposed to spin, he figures he must definitely still be in the “horrendously and pitifully sick” phase of this flu. He closes his eyes, letting his head rest in his hands a moment before slowly standing up, grasping the nightstand in case he loses his balance. 

Connor never would have considered, prior to this week, the task of walking to the kitchen to be a task of Herculean proportions. Yet, here he is now, leaning against the refrigerator as he tries to catch his breath. He coughs, deeply and wetly into his arm. He feels that familiar tickle burgeoning in his sinuses that he's growing to detest.

He rolls his eyes in annoyance at his own body. He feels almost angry at it. If he has to feel so exhausted and weak, why does it also insist he have violent paroxyms that leaves him gasping for breath? 

“HH! Heeehhh!”

Connor stays slumped against the refrigerator, feeling his nose flare and chest heave desperately. His body seems to be making him work for the sneeze this morning, which is the absolute last thing he feels like doing. 

“HEEHHH! Hhhhhhhhh!”

His hitching breaths trigger a rough, wet fit of coughing. Watery-eyed and light-headed, he stumbles toward the trash can to dispel the unfortunate phlegmy misery his body decided to conjure during the fit.

Wrongly assuming his body must surely be done with its dramatics of the morning, he finally begins the actual process of making coffee. As he holds the water-filled carafe to dump into the machine, he suddenly lurches violently forward.

“HRRR’SHUUUHHH! HRRRR’SHOOOO! HRRGGG’SHUUH!”

The sneezes are loud, painful, and unfortunately productive. There is mess everywhere. There’s of course the mess that came from Connor’s own, beleaguered body that he attempts to manage by holding an arm across his face. But he’d also lost his grip on the carafe, which had fallen at exactly the wrong angle, resulting in shattered glass and water spread out along the floor.

He stands, trying to force his foggy thoughts to come together to devise a safe route out of the kitchen — one not resulting in stepping on glass shards. As is becoming a pattern, he has to cough first. He keeps coughing with his arm still placed firmly over his dripping face. 

He takes a shaky breath as the precursor to what he assumes will be another massive fit of coughing. His lungs, though, change course at the last second and he instead finds himself launching into another body-bending sneeze. 

“HAAAAAAAH-RRRSHUUUUUUH!”

Now, his face is even more of a mess than before and before he can even process how to navigate this situation, he’s thrown into yet another coughing fit. He has an odd moment of envy as he thinks about how if he had Felix’s small frame, instead of his own 6’4 one, then surely his body wouldn’t have the strength for such violence. He’s not actually sure if that line of thinking even makes sense, but the thought is there, nevertheless.

This is how Felix finds him — bent at the waist, coughing violently with glass shards surrounding him. Connor finally takes a clear breath as he sees Felix walking toward him.

“No! Felix, there’s glass!” he shouts through his raspy voice, but in his effort to prevent Felix from walking forward, he’d inadvertently taken a step forward, himself.

He lets out an expletive — which one, he couldn’t even say. All he knows is he just did something extremely stupid and has to vocally express as much. After reflexively pulling his foot up from the floor, he stumbles ungracefully toward a kitchen chair before finally dropping into it.

Felix, in his own uncharacteristic display of grace, manages to hurriedly maneuver across the water and glass covered floor without so much as a slip. 

Felix stoops down to the floor, frowning deeply, as he gently takes Connor’s foot in his hand without any hesitation. Connor grimaces, not from pain — he doesn’t think he pressed too firmly on the glass before his reflexes kicked in. But the entire situation — the disgusting state he’s in and the mess he’s created around himself — is the exact kind of nightmare scenario he’d never wish to be in in front of someone. 

“Okay, so, it’s not bad,” Felix says, looking up to meet Connor’s gaze, his face etched in concern despite his words. “I mean, there’s some blood, but it’s definitely not deep,” he says, attempting to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “So no impromptu hospital trip is needed on this fine morning, I’m happy to say. But,” he starts, his face losing a bit of its obviously contrived composure. “I do, uh…  see a tiny sliver of glass in the cut.. But, it’s okay,” he says quickly. “Just stay put and I’ll get some tweezers, and Nurse Felix will have you fixed up as good as new, okay?”

Connor stares at his, eyes wide in alarm. Several memories flash before him all at once.

The one Thanksgiving they spent together with Felix’s family when Felix dropped the pumpkin pie, sending it to a premature demise. 

The time they were playing Jenga with Shauna and some of their other friends when Felix managed to knock over the entire tower with his elbow by accident, before he ever even got the chance to remove one of the blocks.

The time Felix was making chili and put a wooden spoon in the food processor while it was still on, resulting in little wooden shards being launched into the air like shrapnel.

“Felix, you are not coming near my wound,” Connor states firmly, as his mind continues conjuring up horrors from his past with Felix.

Felix rolls his eyes. “It’ll be fine. I’ll do a much better job than you could. You already look like you’re about to —”

Before Felix can complete his thought, Connor’s back to sneezing into his hoodie sleeve, which must be rapidly becoming something of a playground for his little flu germs. It was, predictably, another messy, productive sneeze. As involved as his nose was in the process, he’s surprised that his chest played a significant role in the sneeze too, causing it to hurt. Connor immediately is thrown into a coughing fit while he helplessly watches Felix navigate their kitchen, which now resembles more of a sea — a sea scattered with glass shards. The water that had spilled from the carafe is forming little streams between the cabinets and table legs. 

Felix comes back with multiple towels, as well as a first aid kit. Connor is glad to see the towels because they really need to get a handle on this water situation. He’s surprised to see that Felix isn’t immediately laying the towels down to soak up the mess, but is instead heading over to Connor.

Felix is holding out a towel, expectantly. Connor, still holding his arm over his wet face, tries to give an expression still conveying his confusion. 

Felix just rolls his eyes. “For your face, silly.”

Connor continues staring at Felix with raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes. “You think I need a whole towel?” he asks, voice muffled by his arm. 

“Well, I was going to bring tissues, but couldn’t find them. And, uh, don’t be mad, but you look like you’ve got a situation going on that’s getting kind of unmanageable. So, I really think you should just take the towel, babe.”

Connor’s breath starts hitching again and he’s forced to let out even more sneezes into his soaked sleeve.

“Hmmp’SHOO! HMPH’SHUHHHH! HRR-mNGKXXchuuh!”

He, instinctively, reaches out his non-soaked arm to take the towel. He desperately takes off his glasses, tossing them on the table, then buries his face into the towel. What had at first seemed comically unnecessary, now seems rather suitable as he blows and blows and blows his nose. He also sneezes several more times for good measure. As reluctant as he is to admit it, tending to his own foot in the state he is now may not actually be in his best interest. 

After what has to be several minutes, he’s finally able to resurface from the depths of his towel. He sees Felix finally putting down some towels on the floor, careful of the glass. Connor wants to help, but he still has glass in his foot, and he’s also focused on the demanding task of breathing. His nose is stuffy, but not stuffy enough to prevent any air from going in and out. The tricky thing is that every breath he sends through his nose puts him on the cusp of another sneeze.

Felix continues cleaning. After minutes of literally just breathing, a surprisingly exhausting task, Connor’s apprehension from before returns when he sees Felix finally approach him with the first aid kit.

“Felix, I can do it my—” 

His body, as if to mock his attempt at independence, throws him into another wretched sneeze that soaks his towel. “EFFFKK’shuUUUH!”

“Oh, dear,” Felix says as Connor looks for a clean spot on his towel to blow his nose. “This flu is putting up quite the fight. I hate to say it, but, it really looks like it’s taking you down, babe.”

Connor glares at him, but to his surprise, doesn’t feel any actual discomfort at having his symptoms addressed by Felix. Felix has now seen Connor at his absolute worst, and to Connor’s amazement, he’s still here. Still smiling and being his same, silly self. Connor feels an itsy bitsy, miniscule glimmer of hope emerge. It actually may be possible for Connor to be… to be enough for Felix all on his own, without any pretense of having to maintain some sort of impossible perfection. 

Connor smiles at the thought. “No more ‘down’ than it took you,” he says, face still submerged in his towel. “I seem to recall you absolutely destroying one of Ben’s Christmas sweaters.”

Felix’s face contorts in such a clear expression of regret and disgust at the memory that Connor has to laugh, and then as a consequence for having any small amount of joy, he proceeds to cough up his lung.

Felix lowers himself to the floor, setting the kit next to him. “Yeah, so, I’ve decided next year, flu shots forever everyone. Me, you, and Ben. This has been nuts,” he says, as he opens up the kit.

Connor is still smiling from when Felix said “next year.” He feels warmth spread through him at the ease at which Felix speaks of the future, as though Connor is naturally included in it. The smile dissipates quickly, though, as Felix holds up the tweezers with a smile that Connor thinks is supposed to look confident. But, because it’s Felix, it just terrifies Connor.

Connor straightens up in the kitchen chair, feeling his heart begin to race. If this were anyone else, he’d feel much more at ease, but this is Felix. He sees Felix moving the tweezers toward Connor’s foot, but before he can even duck into his towel, he’s sneezing.

“HUUUH’PTSHOOoooOO!”

It’s a heavy sneeze that he sprays the air in a thick mist. In the kitchen lighting, he’s able to see the cloud of droplets expand out over Felix’s head. Connor’s cheeks burn.

“Felix, I am so sorry. Just, so, so sorry. I — I promise I didn’t mean to do that. I just… it was so fast.”

Felix looks up and smiles, an expression that feels incongruous given that he just got sneezed on.

“It’s okay, babe.”

Connor blinks. “It’s not… It’s most certainly not okay, Felix. I sneezed on you.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Yeah, exactly. You sneezed on me. The key word here being ‘you.’ So… no biggie,” he says with a shrug of his shoulder. “And, besides, I’m probably still immune to these germs anyway, so I promise there’s nothing to worry about,” he adds, his expression turning more serious as he notices Connor’s clear distress. “Now, relax, and let me get this glass out, so we can get you back to resting, okay?”

Connor groans, then sighs, trying to release some of his tension. “Fine, just… quickly. Before I inevitably sneeze all over the place again.” He thinks for a moment before adding, “Carefully. Quickly and carefully,” he says, shooting Felix a severe look.

“I’ve got you, babe,” Felix says, and by the twinkle in Felix’s eyes, Connor knows he’s about to be serenaded by the Sonny & Cher song.

And, sure enough — 

“They say we’re young and we don’t know,” Felix belts out, incredibly off-key.

“Felix, I am already miserable. Do you really have to make my ears suffer along with every other part of my body?”

Felix just smiles and laughs as he resumes playing nurse. Felix’s hands have a firm grasp on Connor’s foot, and Connor feels the tweezers make contact with his skin. He closes one eye, but can’t bring himself to close the other. Suddenly though, Felix is jerking to the side.

“HEH-NGK’T! N’gkt! N’Gkkkt!” He takes one more deep breath, then — “N’kxt!” 

Felix shakes his head like a dog, then gives a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that. I hadn’t had the chance yet  to get my normal morning sneezes out because someone was busy making a spectacle,” Felix teases.

“Okay, well, are they all out now? Because I really would hate for you to make any sudden movements while trying to get glass out of my foot,” Connor says, voice rising as panic sets in further the longer this situation goes on.

“Yep, they’re all out, I’m sure. I never have more than four,” he says with confidence. “And, calm down, it’s the smallest piece of glass I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay, just do it already, then,” Connor says, hating the tremble in his voice.

Within seconds, Felix has the glass out. He immediately starts cleaning and bandaging the small cut. The whole process is only slightly painful. When finished, he looks up with a beaming smile. “I did it,” he says.

Despite the situation, Connor laughs. “Yeah, you did. I never doubted you.”

Felix rolls his eyes and stands, cupping Connor’s face before pressing the softest and sweetest kiss to the top of his head. “I never get to do this because you’re so tall,” he says into Connor’s hair, voice low and gentle. Then, he kisses Connor’s forehead, and Connor closes his eyes, savoring the touch.

“I think you might have a fever starting up,” Felix says, breaking Connor from his thoughts. Connor doesn’t feel particularly feverish. He feels… well, like shit. But that’s been pretty par for the course the past couple of days. “It’s early in the day, so let’s go ahead and get some Tylenol in you before you start feeling too bad, okay?”

Connor, with no hesitation, nods. Then he furrows his brows. He’s… He’s actually accepting care — for what has to be the first time in his life.

“Felix,” Connor starts, his voice rough, not just from sickness. “You know how much I regret leaving you, right?” he asks. “I mean, I know I’ve told you, but… I need you to truly understand how moronic and senseless that decision was okay? To think… to think I could do this, to think I could go through life without you,” he says, taking Felix’s hands in his. “I can’t, Felix. You make me feel like I… like I deserve to be loved,” he says swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I have never felt that way. And I don’t think I can ever stop hating myself for making you, of all people, feel like you weren’t enough when you are literally everything,” he finishes, looking up at Felix, whose eyes are suspiciously watery.

“All that just for getting a tiny piece of glass out of your foot?” Felix asks, his voice shaky.

Connor huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Just… you know I love you, right?” 

“Of course I know that, you idiot,” he says, but the fondness at which he says the term is clear.  “You’ve made that abundantly clear — what with Edna, and the snakes, and letting me dig around in your foot. The actual important question here is, do you believe me when I say I forgive you?” Felix’s eyes are searching, and Connor looks away. “No,” Felix says, tilting Connor’s head up.  “You don’t get to dictate what gets forgiven. I love you and I forgive you and I trust you. And it’s not because I’m some naive golden retriever or whatever idea it is you have of me. It’s because you deserve it. You might not believe me now, but that’s okay because one day you will,”  Felix says, voice firm and steady. Then his expression becomes lighter. “It’s fine if that day’s not today. Because today, you are on strict orders for bedrest.”

Connor swallows past yet another lump in his throat. “Is that so? And what credentials do you have, exactly, to make these orders?”

Felix furrows his brows and puts a hand on his hip, looking at Connor as though he said something ridiculous. “Did you miss the whole ‘Nurse Felix’ thing? I practically have a medical degree after the operation I performed.”

Connor laughs, which triggers a cough, which triggers a sneeze. This is how his life goes now, apparently. After blowing his nose into his towel, his energy is spent and he decides bedrest sounds like a phenomenal idea.

__________

Bedrest ends up actually being “couchrest,” but Felix has set the sectional up well with plenty of blankets, including the Frozen one. “What, you think I’m going to let a perfectly good blanket go to waste?” Felix had asked incredulously when Connor had questioned it. 

So now Connor is stretched out along the chaise part of the sectional, with his pink and purple blanket tucked snugly around himself. He has a box of tissues at his side, and several used ones already littering his lap. The lighting is dim and cozy, helping ease the dull ache in his head. Felix had picked up some coffee and breakfast for them, since Connor had broken their carafe. Connor asked Felix to pick him up some oatmeal with berries. Felix had rolled his eyes, said “Babe, you deserve a nice gooey cinnamon roll right now, not oatmeal,” and that was that.

Connor eats his cinnamon roll and can’t deny it brings substantially more comfort than oatmeal. He tried arguing with Felix about the importance of vitamins and nutrition when one’s unwell, but Felix was hearing none of it, stating simply that “sick people are already miserable enough without having to eat vitamins.” 

He’d suggested to Felix that Felix turn on whatever show he wanted to watch — that Connor wouldn’t be awake for long, anyway. Felix, though, was steadfast in his opinion that being sick is like having a birthday. Connor had, of course, questioned this nonsense. Felix explained that when it’s someone’s birthday, the day’s all about them — they get to pick what’s on TV, what to eat, where to eat, etc, and that it’s the same when you’re sick. Connor had met this explanation with what he thought to be a reasonable amount of uncertainty. “Just trust me, Connor,” Felix said. “You don’t know how these things work because you were never allowed to be sick.” And, well, Connor couldn’t argue with that logic.

So now they’re watching Star Wars. Connor’s seen all the movies millions of times, of course, but he’d almost swear the movies had some sort of healing properties.  Though, that could just be Felix, who is next to him, eating his own cinnamon roll.

After finishing breakfast, he feels himself being slowly lulled into sleep, but a ring of his phone stirs him out of it. He looks down at “Mom” being displayed across the screen. He feels his body go rigid as he continues staring at the phone. Felix must notice because he’s leaning over to look at the phone. Felix’s mouth forms a tight line as he realizes who it is. Felix has always had strong opinions concerning Connor’s mother. Connor appreciates his concern, but he also thinks Felix isn’t quite justified in how unyielding he is in his opinions. Connor doesn’t think his mom is that bad. She did continue talking to him, at least, when he came out as gay. His dad entirely ceased all communication with him.

“Put it on speaker,” Felix says, his voice hardening in a way it so rarely did. 

Taken aback by Felix’s tone, and also feeling anxiety creeping in as the phone continued ringing, Connor easily complies.

“Connor?” his mom answers.

“Uh, yes, Mom. It’s me,” he says, wincing as his voice cracks mid-sentence. Had his voice been this rough and congested all morning? He hadn’t noticed when talking to Felix, but now, with his mom on the other end, he feels the urge to make himself sound as normal as possible.

“Hello. We’ll need you at dinner tonight,” she states, as though the matter is already said and done. 

He pauses, rubbing his temples. “And, why do you need me at dinner tonight?” he asks.

“Because Brian is finally bringing his girlfriend to meet us. And we need you there.”

Connor stares at his lap as he contemplates now to navigate this conversation. He feels Felix take his hand. When he looks up, Felix is shaking his head, his brows furrowed.

 “I don’t understand why I’m needed,” Connor finally settles on saying.

This was obviously the wrong response because there’s a long pause. “He’s your brother, Connor,” she says in a clipped voice.

Felix squeezes Connor’s hand more tightly. Connor sighs, then coughs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tonight. I-I’m sick.” He’s proud he said the words with only a slight hesitation. 

Connor can practically see his mother’s eye roll. “Even if you were sick, that’s no excuse. This is family, Connor.” 

Again, Felix squeezes his hand even more tightly, and at this point, it’s becoming painful. Connor shoots Felix a look that he hopes conveys “knock it off.”

“I just, I think I have the flu. I should stay home today, I think. I can meet Brian’s girlfriend another time,” he says, feeling his composure start to waver. His throat is tightening and his heart is racing. 

His mother sighs. “If you do have the flu, you can take some over the counter medicine and come anyway. I didn’t raise you to let something so trivial keep you from doing something that needs to be done.”

At this, Felix makes a low noise that sounds almost like a growl. Connor shoots him a glare.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I really am sick and I can’t. I think I … I think I should just stay here and rest,” he says, feeling more ashamed than he’s ever felt before. He remembers the looks from his mother when he’d make any grade less than A in school and when he hadn’t gotten into his first pick for college. And, of course, when he told her he was gay. This, somehow, feels even worse — like telling her he’s sick is an admittance of failure. He can already feel words of concession trying to escape his lips — that he guesses if he needs to be there, he can make it for a couple of hours on some DayQuil. But Felix’s hand is still in his, and he feels another gentle squeeze.

So, he instead says “Why do I need to be there, anyway? I’m sure this girl couldn’t care less. Actually, I’m sure she’d prefer I keep my flu germs far away from her.”

“Connor,” his mother starts, voice severe. “You need to be there because you’re Brian’s family, and this is important to him. Now that your dad’s gone, you know you and I are all he has left. Do you really want him to feel like he has no support?” Connor feels his hands shaking, and before he can answer to tell her he’ll come to dinner just to keep this conversation from continuing, she keeps going. “Although, I guess it’s silly for me to ask, isn’t it? Of course you want him to feel that way. You’ve never really cared much for us, have you? You’re always trying to distance yourself as much as possible. You moved away for over a year because you think you’re too good for us, so you had to run off to New York over some overinflated sense of self-importance. You've been back for weeks now and still having bothered seeing us.  And when you were in New York, you barely made any effort to call. And when your dad was in the hospital… God, don’t even get me started on that,” she says with a wry laugh.

Connor’s breaths are shallow and coming out too quickly. He needs to cough, but he can’t — not when his mom can hear him. He has to remain composed. He needs to… he needs to just tell her he’ll come to the dinner. It’d be easier and less taxing than having this conversation. 

But before he can, Felix is taking the phone from his hand.

“Hi, Mrs. Hayes,” Felix says, voice stern and full of uncharacteristic self-assuredness. “This is Felix, your son’s boyfriend.” Before his mom can get even the smallest of words in, Felix continues. “Yes, yes, I know the word boyfriend is probably making you feel ill. I’m ever so sorry for that. But I just have to chime in and say, Connor didn’t come see your husband in the hospital because he wouldn’t let him. Surely you remember, even on his literal deathbed, he refused to let Connor see him on account of Connor being a — well, we’ll just let the word go unsaid for the sake of maintaining a modicum of civility. I just had to get that out there because Connor is too polite and, for some reason I can’t for the life of me understand, too terrified of you to speak up for himself,” Felix says, as Connor just watches in horror. His mother seems to be rendered speechless — an unusual occurrence. 

Connor tries reaching for the phone, but Felix keeps a firm grasp. 

“You don’t have the slightest clue of what you’re talking about,” Connor’s mom finally says, voice sharp. “And if Connor cared enough, he would’ve come anyway. He wouldn’t have let the words of a dying man stop him. Evan had been so ill and on so many drugs at the time. He can hardly be held accountable for anything he said,” she continues, and Connor is alarmed to hear a tremble in her voice.

Felix laughs, wryly. “Right, and the three years he spent completely ignoring any attempts Connor made to contact him? What’s your excuse for that, Mrs. Hayes?”

“Evan had morals. Something people like you don’t have any understanding of. He was a proud man with convictions that he held tightly onto, even at the end and he should be admired for that. He was stronger than I could ever be. Here I am, trying to still keep contact with Connor because he’s my son and I love him regardless of his sins, but it’s clear I’d be better off following in Evan’s footsteps because my efforts are obviously not appreciated.”

The words cause Connor to take a sharp intake of breath, and now he is coughing. He can’t hold them back any longer. They’re deep, wet, and unending. 

Felix rubs soothing circles along Connor’s back, but he’s still holding the phone firmly in his hand. “Oooh, I think that’s a delightful idea. Please do follow in those footsteps, Mrs. Hayes, and follow them quickly because I think Connor would be a lot better off.” Connor’s still desperately hacking into his wad of tissues. The coughing must trigger something in his sinuses because now he’s sneezing along with coughing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Felix says, continuing to rub Connor’s back. “I need to take care of your son because it’s about time someone does,” and with that he hangs up.

“Eck’SHooO! Hrrp’SHOOO! MMpff’SHUuuUUHH!”

Connor doesn’t think he’ll ever stop sneezing. Or coughing. He can’t even distinguish between the two because they’re falling on top of each other, keeping him stuck in a horrifying loop.

Felix never stops soothingly rubbing his back. His other hand is in Connor’s hair, gently running his fingers through it. He hears Felix whisper soft words of comfort — “It’s okay," and “It’ll end soon,” and “Just let them all out.” But Connor’s too preoccupied to respond.

Finally, after several minutes, he’s able to lean back into the couch. His entire body is trembling so hard that his teeth are chattering. He doesn’t know if it’s from his sickness or from the conversation with his mom. Felix takes the Frozen blanket, and tucks it tightly around Connor’s body. Seeing that Connor is still shaking uncontrollably, he grabs the orange knitted throw from the back of the couch, and does the same. 

“Baby,” Felix starts, sounding hesitant. “I’m so sorry. I know that was out of line. I just… you know how I feel about her, and … god, Connor, she’s just abhorrent. The things she says to you. And you just let her.” At this, Connor starts to shudder even harder — not from his sickness, or from anxiety-induced adrenaline, but from the sobbing he’s suddenly found himself overcome with.

“Oh god,” Felix says, voice shaking. “Oh my god, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I should just shut up. I know I should just shut up but for some reason I just never fucking can be quiet when it’s most important and I… oh my god, just, come here,” Felix says, sounding desperate. Connor shifts down further, curling toward Felix, and Felix adjusts immediately, wrapping both arms around him. Connor rests his forehead against Felix’s shoulder, his taller frame bending to fit against Felix’s smaller one. Felix pulls him closer, his hand finding its way back to Connor’s hair, fingers threading through it gently.

“Shh,” Felix mumbles softly and soothingly, fingers still in Connor’s hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I know. I’ve got you. Just let it out. I love you, and I’m here, okay? No matter what. Just cry as much as you need to.” As if Connor needed the permission, he sobs harder, his shoulders shaking.

Connor’s afraid he’ll never stop — that now that he’s allowed himself to cry for the first time since childhood, he’s triggered something inside himself that won’t shut off.  Slowly, however, Connor’s sobs, that have also become mixed with coughs, do eventually begin to quiet, his breathing evening out as Felix continues to murmur comforting words. 

The weight of exhaustion settles in, and Felix stays right there, holding him, until Connor's trembling finally starts to ease. “I’m just so fucking tired,” Connor mumbles into Felix’s shoulder.

“Hmm,” Felix softly hums. “That’s okay. It’s okay to be tired. You’re exhausted. How about you try to get some sleep? I’ll be right here. We can talk about… about all that when you wake up. If you want. But right now you are in serious need of some rest. So, just close your eyes, baby. I’ll still be here when they open.”

So, Connor does. With an amount of trust he never thought himself capable of possessing, he lets himself drift off with the knowledge that Felix will be there, just like he said. Felix’s steady presence is an anchor as Connor lets sleep pull him under.

Part 10

[pastelprince18]

✨🌸INTRO🌸✨

✨Hello their my beloved little fellas, Names Ray [Nicknamed not real name]! I usually post my art weather being doodles, wips, sketches, paintings or finished pieces being fandom stuff or my own  projects [which is rare because I am so shy to share my very own content and don't know how people will act, maybe someday I will talk about it] I would appreciate if you do see my art anywhere to DM me and NOT harass anybody <:] , but if you do share my work PLEASE CREDIT ME!!I IT WILL ME A LOT TO ME /Gen✨

✨ Short Info✨

💖Ray [Perfered] , Raylin, Pastel

💖Adult

💖 Puerto Rican

💖 Demi Girl [She/They/Her/Them]

💖Lesbian, Ace

💖Taken 

💖#Kbyeart is my arttag 

💖Self-Taught Artist 

💖Can Be a bit too talktive </3

💖Gamer [if you like to add me on switch lmk CLOSE FRIENDS ONLY!!

💖COMMISSION CHART HERE If intrested please dm on my platforms: Tumblr, Discord, and Bluesky all under the same name :]

💖Can get anxious meeting new people either too shy or too excited 

⭐️Interests⭐️

🌸Mario Rabbids Series 

🌸Rabbids Invasion

🌸Cuphead

🌸Sanrio

🌸Spongebob 

🌸Mario.Bros 

🌸 Pastel, Hospital, Nostalgic Core Aesthetic 

🌸Carebears 

🌸Regular Show [Been a while but I still love it <33]

🌸Plushies 

🌸Pretty Blood 

🌸The Bad Guys 

🌸Happy Tree Friends 

🌸Rayman

🌸BFB

🌸Inanimate Insanity

⛈DNI⛈

Proshipper

Basic Racism,Bigots,Homophobics, Transphobic 

Art Thief

Discourse Accounts 

NFT’s Cryptic 

DDLGS 

Cringe Culture [Ya know the people who say “THATS CRINGE EW”]

You harass me or any of my friends/ mutuals. That is automatic block

Also Spamming inbox + Dms will be blocked 

Dream SMP Fans 

Fetish Artist 

Vizpop Fans

HH and HB stuff, I don’t wanna hear nothing of that shit, please block me or i’ll block you I don’t nothing to do with it or see it on my damn feed /srs

🍒BYF🍒

As stated before I do talk a lot, I usually ramble about my own HC, Oc Stuff, Ships, Ideas or even things I really enjoy from games, shows movies ect. I hope you are prepared on what I will share here. And just know it is for fun and I would love for ya’ll to also share your ideas <3 

I tend to have depressed episodes sometimes, if you do see me writing things on here mainly at night, its where I can show during that time since I feel bad for venting too much to friends. I feel bad even venting out just to let steam off, sorry for advance :’]

I open request when I feel like it weather being I am art blocked, have no ideas or no motvation. IT IS A RARE MOMENT, PLEASE DO NOT SPAM MY INBOX!!! IF I HAVE NOT DONE UR REQUEST I WILL GLADLY DO IT WHEN I AM FREE 

 Speaking of the first one. Do not spam inbox please, I have gotten that lately and I tend to get anxious or annoyed since I can't always answer stuff, I do have a job and I tend to get sidetrack, even if I am not in the best mental state please do not be on top of me, I do not like that.

My art takes quite a bit to post weather being a painting or digital art, I work 5 days a week and usually it drains me where I am at. usually cause of that my motivation drains fast. I know I say I promise to do things and I will keep that promise, even if its months too late I'll try to work on it <3

Don’t call my art hot or sexy if I don’t know you at all and especially if you’re a minor- I don’t like when people in general call my art hot or sexy [Unless you’re my close friend than idm <3]

Thank you all for dropping by and hope to get to know most of you all :’]

[jooji-does]

Oc talk 00,1# the pilot - Galent!

Hey! uh..well..i dont have any full fledged artwork yet..so..these will all be pilots for now! i plan on redoing these with finished artwork for all these characters but, i wanted to at least write some about them for now, so lets start!

This is Galent! Galent is one of my many sinner/hell ocs , they are the ones i work on the most..but i do have a lot of ocs on earth too. Galent was (still kinda of is..) a Gun-smith! he was from France, he died around the 1850's in a civil war, not because he was wounded but because after the battle he killed himself, saying that he was a God and he coundt die he wanst a god.

In Hell Galent has the monopoly over a big part of the gun industry.. Ok yeah its kinda of basic he is a "gun guy" and he produces "guns" but i kinda of like that simplicity lol, he is not really a main character of any story i'm writing..he is like a side villain in a little arc, he is gonna have two-three songs? but one of them is just a chorus with other characters. he is quite the character, i think personality wise he is a mix of the illumination Onceler (hate that movie but i cant find better analogies lol) and a tiny bit of HH Vox? he is really full of himself, he will talk everytime about how he sells better than any sinner on hell and about his power..and money, but he is kinda of a bitch too, he refuses to use his guns against the angels that steal and eat the sinners from his floor, probably because he is too scared to get his ass kicked, its a little bit of a cahoot he has with the angels too

Most of his workers are Imps (gotta make a post on that later but..to explain it fast..) Imps are the descendents of sinners and demons on hell, they can't have proper off-spring so they have these..humanoid esque creatures, they can be cute..or gruesome, its pretty varied, they are also cheap and affordable and too weak to stand out, they are the lowest class on hell after the dinosaurs and Galent is not afraid of spendable working hands.

Well thats it for this post..Galent is a pretty recent oc so when i make another one of these there will be a lot more to write home about..but he is pretty cool! i mean, i like him, he is really fun to draw and has become one of my favorite characters recently

[mx-ryder]

More thoughts on Hazbin Hotel

Alright alright alright, okay.

I know I already made a pretty lengthy post about this. But y'all. That was based on a single quote from this trashfire of an article.

ohhohoho, now. NOW

You will see my true thoughts/feelings about this piece, and how people consume media not aimed at or meant for them, completely misunderstand it, and then use their misunderstanding to make ridiculous claims about the media, like that it's bad, disappointing, badly written, etc. whatever.

How many times do we have to tell people this same thing?? If a piece of media wasn't for you, then you do not get to use that to claim it's bad. You know what's not for me?? Most zombie stories! Most romance novels! Especially "dark romance," gfdi.

You know what I don't do??

Consume a piece of media in one of those genres and then write a scathing review about it based solely on the fact that I don't enjoy that particular sort of media!!

So here. Here's a long-winded piece picking apart every single horrible point made in this sorry excuse for an article.

(Disclaimer: again, most of my views on HH are colored by my upbringing in a very conservative, right-wing, USA-based christianity. I'm sure my experiences differ from those who were raised catholic, or protestant, or really any actually named sect of christian. We were "home-school co-op and vote no on prop 8" christian. So when I talk about christianity and their beliefs/tenets, that's where I'm coming from.)

Here we go.

--

 I knew it wouldn’t be for me, and planned on staying far away from both the show and the drama constantly swirling around it like a hurricane. 

Completely aware that this show was not for them. That they wouldn't enjoy it. They had no intention of watching it, until their boyfriend "made them" watch it. As if they didn't have a choice in the matter. And they try to couch in it a cute little "if we ended up hating it, we’d at least be able to give concrete reasons why, rather than just judging a book by its cover."

More than anything, though, I was just blown away by the sloppy writing. And no, I don’t just mean the constant forced swearing and dick jokes. I’m talking big picture stuff. It really, truly feels like a first draft written with no oversight. Writing that’s always telling instead of showing. Constant diversions to introduce insufferable new characters and subplots, even though the main cast is so woefully underdeveloped. Big emotional crescendos that never feel earned. A central conflict that makes no goddamn sense if you stop and think about it even briefly. I could go on and on. And I will!!

You realize this is all subjective, right? This is a story that was, by necessity and capitalism, forced to squeeze itself into eight. fucking. episodes. And those episodes do their darndest to give the cast as much development as possible. And I'm sorry, "a first draft written with no oversight"?? Do you realize how much "oversight" they probably had to work around? The oversight that forced them into an eight episode season (to avoid a lengthy run if it didn't perform as well as Amazon expected, of course) is the same oversight that made those character arcs fast-forwarded. And they're still so impactful despite their rushed-ness. I cried literal tears multiple times for this show. Because I was the target audience, and you were not, -I removed a particularly mean-spirited insulting name here, because I was angry and passionate at the time. I don't normally personally attack people who I disagree with, but also I enjoy swearing, so it was instinctive more than anything. Still though, I wouldn't normally call someone that, and see no reason to do so just because I'm on the internet and "talking" to someone I don't know and whose opinion I don't like-

I didn’t actually watch the pilot at first. I figured I didn’t need to. It’s over four years old at this point, featuring an entirely different voice cast from the full series, and it isn’t even on Prime Video. If it was required viewing, it’d be on Amazon with the rest of the show, right? I mean, how many shows can you even think of that have required you to go seek out a separate pilot episode before watching the first season?

Neither did I. It wasn't necessary viewing. Having seen it, I still don't believe it's necessary to understanding the story or the characters.

it feels like it was written almost exclusively for people who are already obsessive fans of the characters and world, with very little effort to craft a coherent story that will draw in nonbelievers.

To you. It felt like that to you. Because this was. not. a story. for. you. I came into it blind, with zero previous knowledge of the franchise, not having seen the pilot. I understood it fine. And I was only half-paying attention the first time. It's pretty clear you weren't even paying that much attention.

The series is set in a cartoonish version of Hell very loosely based on Christian mythology,

I don't know how to explain to you that this is based more heavily on deep biblical lore than most other media with religious undertones that I've seen. Like, having grown up in "the church," a lot of the lore they're pulling on isn't even christian lore! It's a lot of shit that isn't considered canon by most christians (and oh, boy, is it fun to explain to people that canon is a word that originally meant "decided upon by -insert old religious officials here- that it was good enough to be included in the official bible. Seriously, try reading the non-canon books of the bible some time! They're actually pretty fucking cool lol). Lilith is not a recognized figure in most christianity. She just doesn't exist in their texts or beliefs. The seven sins aren't christian, either. They're heavily catholic. So, no. This is not "loosely based on christian mythology".

Once a year, Hell is attacked by angels in order to curb “overpopulation” among the sinful human souls, with Exorcists randomly slaughtering them in the streets. This is obviously a bad thing. (Of course, citizens of Hell are already slaughtering each other all the time, but I think they, like… respawn, or something? And only angel weapons make them stay dead? I don’t know, the show doesn’t really explain this all that clearly.)

I'm sorry you can't see the difference between angels of heaven slaughtering thousands of human souls once a year and the occasional demon/soul killing someone.

Eventually she does manage to find a benefactor, but only by making a deal with one of the most dangerous demons in Hell: Alastor the Radio Demon. 

She explicitly did not make a deal with Alastor?? For someone who claims to have watched the pilot, you sure did miss a lot of details.

And it’s harder to give it the benefit of the doubt when it’s gone from being an indie passion project to being a major tentpole animation release for Amazon, with a star-studded red carpet premiere and billboards all over Times Square.

This just. Have you not seen how horribly the "major release for Amazon with a star-studded red carpet premier" of AtLA is going? That is like, the worst thing to happen to a story. Please. (Yes, I know it's coming to Netflix. Potato Potahto.)

But yes, the characters swear a lot. Like, constantly. . . .but most of the time it just reminds me of dorky Tumblr and Twitter users who have to say shit like “Okay listen up chucklefucks, everyone buckle the FUCK up for this motherfucking thread!” Like, please, dial it back a notch.

Could you . . . miss the point more? Again. You're not the target audience here. People swear in real life. AND IT'S HELL.

It feels like one of those things that would’ve been pitched via concept art on Tumblr back in the day, and people would’ve been like “OMG!! Everyone reblog this, we NEED to turn this into a real show!!!” And that would’ve been the end of it. Except they actually went and made the damn show.

I'm not super familiar with the history of the show, but I'm . . . relatively sure that's kind of what happened. It was a show that started on YouTube, made by an independent animation team, and the internet made such a big deal out of it that Amazon picked it up. Like I'm sorry you hate small creators getting opportunities??

The big one is that almost every single male character seems to have been designed in a lab to be a “Tumblr Sexyman.” (The women, on the other hand, all look like Monster High dolls.) If you did a drinking game where you took a shot every time a new character was introduced who’s extremely thin with a top hat, bow tie, a big evil grin with sharp teeth, and Roaring Twenties overtones, you would die of alcohol poisoning halfway through the season.

I know for a fact that you bring up later that HH takes place in the first ring of hell, which is Lucifer's ring, Pride. And Lucifer's entire aesthetic is . . . circus. Showman. Roaring 20s. Charlie's dressed like a damn ring-master for dogs sake (genuine typo that I decided to keep lol). Don't you think Lucifer's realm would, idk, be entirely his aesthetic?!

For one, many designs are overly detailed, which I can only imagine is a nightmare for the animators responsible for making them move frame by frame.

Are you an animator? Did an animator tell you it was a nightmare? Oh, no, you're just guessing based on the complexity of the character designs? Got it.

But, again, when you’ve got an army of overworked animators who have to worry about making sure Husk has all the multicolored dots on his wings in every frame, it might be time to show some restraint.

Oh, no! Animators have to stay on model! The horror! It's not as though they're doing a lot of this on computers and aren't individually hand-drawing every single spot on Husk's body every frame. And also like?? He's got a total of what, 10 spots on each wing?? I didn't even notice his playing card aesthetic at first, so it's not like it's so overly in-your-face that it's all you can gd see about him.

As is often the case with younger artists who indulge in these sort of things,

I don't need to quote the rest of this sentence. People like you are the reason kids are afraid to share their art. People like you are the reason young writers don't think they're good enough. I have very, very strong opinions about people like you. I'm restraining myself. Heavily.

Most notably, there’s a glaring lack of body diversity on the show, with almost every character being thin and lanky with a snatched waist.

Yes. Notable. Not necessarily something to worry about, though, considering a little something called "art style," but I can see how it might be concerning. But a lot of this is also like . . . we're talking about a show where half the cast is vaguely humanoid creatures like sharks, spiders, and winged cats. Is realistic human body diversity really the sticking point, here?

 It can be hard to tell where one character ends and another begins when they’re close together, especially when the backgrounds are frequently dominated by the same colors. Take this group hug from the finale, for instance:

I'm sorry are we seriously arguing that a color scheme that is highly thematic is somehow a flaw? ;-;

The inhabitants of Hell are broadly categorized into two groups. There are, of course, natural Hellborn demons, who are exempt from the exterminations. Charlie, for example. But most of the characters are “sinner demons” — the reborn souls of humans who died and went to Hell for their sins. There’s no way to differentiate the two at a glance, because every character design is just kind of whatever Vivzie wanted them to look like.

Do we . . . need to be able to distinguish them? Is that important to . . . anything? Also I'm pretty sure the hell-born ones are pretty typically the more overtly designed ones. The ones who are overlords or whatever are the ones who are actual rulers over what amounts to districts in this first ring (I can't remember rn if the other rings have overlords. I know they're ruled by the Sins).

As far as I can remember, there’s no explanation given for why people turn into furries and monster people and Once-lers and object heads and all sorts of other things when they die and go to the Christian Hell in this universe. Some of them gain overt themes, like Alastor being “The Radio Demon,” but others don’t. 

Do we need an explanation? No, seriously. Do we? And I understand that a lot of Alastor's background is explained in the pilot, but it's pretty clear that he "gained an overt theme" by being a ruthless fucker who more or less made that theme for himself. He earned his moniker, just like the other overlords did, by ruling his little chunk of the first ring and literally murdering his way into the public eye.

They also gain random magic powers, with some of them being insanely powerful! As far as I can remember, there’s never any explanation for any of this. 

Do we ever see anyone other than an actual overlord or Sin use this sort of power? I guess Sir Pentious does. But again, I'm not sure this needs an explanation. This is the sort of thing you can kind of infer. I was sort of under the impression that their power sort of came from their skill. Alastor mercilessly destroyed several overlords (though it's possible he was somehow especially powerful of a human soul to begin with, because tbh what sort of human soul could rival an overlord normally?) and I figured with each consecutive overlord defeated, he gained more and more power. Hell, it's possible some of these powers come from the amount of souls they have bound to them. We know Alastor has at least two, Husk and Niffty. My point is, it's hell. Most of the ones with "powers" are overlords, and the ones who aren't are well on their way to becoming one (Pentious is, despite his kinda goofy nature, a skilled inventor and not un-skilled in battle. I think he just lacks the actual drive/ruthlessness to get to overlord status).

But then you look at the Exorcist angels, who also just look like Hot Topic demons!!

*insert heavy sobs here* You're. You're calling. The purposefully faceless and identityless Exorcists. Who are literally designed. to all look the same. for a ton of reasons. poor character design.

In Hazbin, they don’t even really fit the theme of the Christian Heaven and Hell. If this was just a vague “underworld,” that would be one thing, but the very first scene in the Amazon show is about Adam and Lilith in the damn Garden of Eden! I never thought I’d find myself complaining about how a show didn’t have a good enough excuse to write in a giantess scene girl feathered dinosaur woman, but here we are.

*crying in 'do you know what examining familiar tropes and themes in a new way even is'*

A design is supposed to tell you a lot about the character at a glance, but the vast majority of characters here just recycle Vivzie’s favorite visual details over and over again — bow ties, top hats, sharp teeth, big evil smiles, mismatched eyes, pinstriped suits — to the point that it becomes impossible for any of these things to be seen as meaningful character choices.

See my earlier point about it being Lucifer's ring of hell, and therefore heavily following his aesthetic. But also. . .

Charlie: Familial similarities to Lucifer and Lilith both, in her facial features, her height, and her style.

Vaggie: Her skin-tone and style pretty clearly mark her as different from most of the other cast. She's gray/purple (as commented on by Sir Pentious pretty early on, actually). No one else in Hell looks quite like she does, and that's an early sign that she's not from Hell. The closest similarity is Carmine, and her sclera are an unusual color, as are most demons'.

Husker: His very obvious playing card aesthetic calls back to his gambling addiction, and the casino he apparently owns? He's a poker lover, and his aesthetic shows that pretty clearly.

Angel: HE HAS LITERAL HEARTS ALL OVER HIS BODY. HE IS PINK AND WHITE, PRETTY TYPICAL ROMANCE-ASSOCIATED COLORS. I DON'T KNOW. HOW MUCH CLEARER. YOU COULD MAKE IT. THAT HE'S SEXY WITH A FAR MORE SOFT/ROMANTIC SIDE THAN YOU MIGHT GUESS BASED ON HIS JOB AND PERSONALITY.

Like, I could keep going, but . . . do I need to?

When Lucifer finally shows up halfway through the show, it lands with a complete thud. There’s nothing to make him stand out visually as the ruler of Hell and the literal fucking Christian Devil, because he just looks like every other Once-ler-ass side character on this goddamn show. He doesn’t even look or sound old enough to be Charlie’s dad!!!

*more crying sounds* He is the originator of the entire. fucking. aesthetic. He is not "the literal fucking christian devil," and you'd know that if you had any fucking knowledge of biblical lore beyond "haha Lucifer is da debil, he should be red with horns and a heart-spiked tail and pitchfork." This is also a universe where characters who have literally been around for millenia look whatever fucking age they want. Did you see Adam? He was hundreds of years old by the time he died, but he's *gasp* a 30-something year old man in the show?? Unrealistic!

Like I said, Charlie is very much a Disney Princess. Played by Broadway star Erika Henningsen (perhaps known as the original lead in the Mean Girls musical), Charlie is an upbeat, idealistic young woman with absent parents who sings about wanting to follow her dreams. She even has an animal companion in the form of KeeKee, a cute little cyclops cat thing that turns into a giant hotel key, though confusingly I’m not sure it ever actually does anything in the story, and its presence is rarely even acknowledged in the dialogue.

She's a princess, sure. Idk of any disney princess who transforms into a demonic entity when she's pissed off enough to stop projecting her perfect image to the people around her, though. And oh no, the pet of a character didn't actually do anything in the story?? THE HORROR! NOTHING CAN EVER BE SHOWN ON SCREEN THAT DOES NOT ADVANCE THE PLOT IN SOME WAY.

Like, knowing the basics of the show, you’d expect the songs to be funny, right?

W-why? Why would I expect them to be funny?

The whole point of Charlie being such an out of place character in Hell gets muddled when damn near every character is playing their Disney-style musical numbers completely straight.

I don't think it's her singing that makes her an out of place character. Again: This is Lucifer's ring of hell here. What other explanation do you need for characters to break out into song in their very broadway show parodying universe?

Take Adam, for example. For some reason, Adam’s whole thing is that he’s a horrible dudebro misogynist who’s constantly talking about sex.

That. Is. The. Fucking. Point.

Adam was, canonically, a man who was given complete control and authority over his first wife, Lilith. When he tried to exercise that control, and refused to let her be on top for fucking once, she "defied" him and was banished. Because he was a controlling asshole who was grandfathered into heaven by default.

This leaves us with a story about privilege and double standards, where the sinners in Hell are deemed worthy of death for their misdeeds, while Adam can do whatever he wants and get away with it because he’s already in Heaven. And I guess there’s kinda something there, but man, the way this show talks about (and doesn’t talk about) conservative Christian morals and puritanism and the idea of redemption is such a fucking mess. 

It's really not. Growing up in "the church" was exactly like this. It was hypocrisy and cruelty everywhere you looked, excused by the fact that the perpetrator was "such a good, godly" person. In most christian doctrine, "getting saved" means you are completely guaranteed entrance to heaven, no matter how you used to live your life, or how you behave after "being saved". It fits perfectly into christian doctrine that once you're in heaven, you'd be able to act however you fucking wanted, because, hey, you're in heaven aren't you? Clearly if you weren't a good person you wouldn't be there, and that means however you act is the way a good person acts.

Yes. Charlie’s girlfriend, the only lesbian on the main cast, is named Vaggie.

Do we know she's a lesbian? Why do you discount Charlie, here? Couldn't Vaggie just as easily be bi or pan, as I'm presuming you assume Charlie must be?

Also oh my gods, you're seriously somehow pissed that they made her name Vaggie, short for Vagina? You do realize that isn't her name because, like, her parents named her that, or because she found out she liked girls and named herself that, right? She's named that because Adam probably created her, and in the most frat-boy straight guy choice in the world, named her "after his favorite thing." It has nothing to do with her being into Charlie (and potentially being a lesbian). It's an indiction of Adam's obsession with the one thing he loves women for: their vaginas.

In an early episode she briefly puts on a drill sergeant act, and it’s so forced and half-hearted that I questioned if we were genuinely supposed to believe that Vaggie has some sort of military background. As we learn in episode 6, though, it turns out she does have a military background. 

No she doesn't *more quiet sobbing* she really, really doesn't. She has a background as a being who was (probably) created by Adam, specifically to be his little playthings. They believed they were indestructible and therefore didn't learn to fight, had no actual formal training, and also have zero obvious military structure. It's Adam at the top, and the Exorcists all about even beneath him. And it's incredibly intentional that they're all women and all subservient to him.

Almost every line that comes out of his mouth is about his sexual prowess, or about wanting to fuck every other male character he meets, or about his gag reflex, or about how he wants somebody to fill his holes, or about how something another character said could be interpreted in a sexual way, or about how his chest fluff looks kinda like a pair of tits and his partners love that, or about how he thinks the gang should resolve their current problem by letting him film a porno. He drags Charlie and co. into sexual situations that make them uncomfortable for laughs, whether it’s taking them to a BDSM club or making them watch some of his porn as a group. This shtick gets old immediately. It’s as if every scene has an invisible timer ticking away, and when it goes off that’s Angel’s cue to randomly interject with something like “Hey, did you guys know I love suckin’ dick?” And if he’s not talking about sex, chances are he’s talking about how much he loves drugs. His name is “Angel Dust,” after all.

You have zero understanding of Angel, his character, his story, or gay culture in general.

Niffty exists to be the obligatory “gremlin” archetype character, because fandoms eat that kind of thing up. She’s small, cute, mischievous, and hyperactive, but ALSO she loves murder. There’s very little to her because she’s a pure comic relief character.

Nifty came off as incredibly neurodivergent-coded to me. She's a gremlin because so many of us neurodivergent folks are self-professed gremlins, myself included. And I did mention her "weird" characterization in my original post about this, but let me go into a little more detail here.

Neurodivergence is incredibly stigmatized in "the church". Autism and ADHD are nothing more than convenient excuses for lazy sinners who just need to pray harder for self-discipline. She is "weird" because she . . . what, likes to clean? Because she takes specific pleasure in killing insects because cleaning is her special interest? She's socially inept and unaware of how weird she comes off? She focuses more on cleaning when she's drunk than literally anything else? Sorry, is that not screaming of a right-wing asshole's depiction of a neurodivergent person who deserves hell for being "weird" and "crazy?" Or who would only get to heaven once they're "fixed"?

For a while we weren’t sure whether or not Niffty is supposed to be a child. She’s the size of a child, and half the time she’s written like a child that’s had too much sugar, such as when the gang is hanging out at a bar and Niffty doesn’t seem to understand what people do in bars. But in one episode when Angel Dust brings the gang to a BDSM club she puts on a black latex dominatrix outfit, so uh… I guess she’s an adult.

Oh, neurodivergent person accused of being childlike? We've never seen that before, I'm sure. Also. . . YOU. YOU weren't sure if she was a child or not. In a show like this, with a cast of adults, you couldn't work out that she was supposed to be an adult??

Continued in PT 2 of ???

[sillymodezeenith]

I have a stupid rare blood disorder and I relate to this cat on a DEEPLY LITERAL level.

For background, I have Hereditary Hemochromatosis; which isn’t particularly rare. A lot of older adults discover they have it when it starts damaging their liver.

Basically, over simplified, you eat things, and absorb iron into your body. Yummy! Good for you! However, my body cannot get RID of iron, and absorbs more iron from the things I consume. Which means I have Too Much Iron. It’s dumb and painful (in a lot of weird ways???).

My liver damage started when I was 14. That is about the most abnormal thing that I could’ve possibly happened to me. There is one singular doctor in my entire state that’s had another juvenile HH patient, and he’d only ever met one (besides me). That’s STUPID. I genuinely cannot convey to you how fucked up and strange that is. I physically should not have been alive along enough to accumulate enough iron to make my organs upset. There’s definitely factors that made it worse, but to this day no one knows how or why I got enough iron that it was having profoundly negative effects.

I’ve been weird and fucked up my entire life and when I was 10~ish a doctor prescribed me iron supplements to see if I’d be, for simplicities sake, less fucked up. She did this without checking my iron levels, or doing any lab work. Anemia is common, some of my symptoms can look similar— Im also autistic and fucking love chewing on ice. That’s a stereotypical sign of anemia— so she just gave me iron and shooed me away. Unsurprisingly, I got worse relatively quickly (again, remember that most people don’t have issues with HH until they’re over 50). I stopped taking the iron supplements pretty fast, but that 4 years was the sharpest and most miserable decline of my life.

I picked up a LOT of weird, shitty, presumably unhealthy habits around then. At that point I still wasn’t diagnosed, and no one knew why I was so goddamn sick; but relevant to this post, I got a CRAZY caffeine addiction. A truly shocking level of caffeine intake. I mean, the amount and potency of what I was drinking meant that most doctors from that point on brushed off my medical issues as being a Freak with too much caffeine and told me to drink water and cut that out. Following medical advice had always made me feel Worse.

You will Never Guess what inhibits iron absorption.

Caffeine. Or, more specifically polyphenols, but the distinction doesn’t actually matter in this.

ALSO, related: You know how we all make fun of 17th century doctors for their obsessions with fluids and bloodletting.

Do you want to know the treatment for iron overload? They fucking took my blood. They just drained that shit and I FELT BETTER. The one treatment that’s pretty notoriously dunked on and made fun of for its lack of benefits. They just took my blood Out of my body, once a week, until I ran out of iron and just had normal blood. Therapeutic phlebotomies. That’s STUPID. It’s a stupid way for my body to work and it PISSES ME OFF!!!

Also final unrelated note, the doctor that discovered my iron overload was my PSYCHIATRIST— Hemochromatosis can cause/exacerbate symptoms similar to bipolar disorder, which I was in treatment for— and she was the ONLY DAMN PERSON to do her due diligence with ordering a full panel of labs, and discovering my iron was DANGEROUSLY HIGH. I owe her my fucking life. Not once did she do her job as my actual psychiatrist and spent 99% of our visits navigating the hospital system and finding specialists for me.

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[the59er]

1 Aug 2024

1st August 2024, Thursday Listening: Sunrise, Norah Jones

I hate having cravings because I'd end up wasting money on snacks..today spent 50+ from Souka via Grab :(

--

2 Aug 2024

2nd August 2024, Friday Listening: I Try, Macy Gray

Im on a mish to quit whiteboxing and Ive got two boxes left. Can I do it? 2121's been pushing me for a switch which I am still contemplating on. Either way, both are bad.

Bought myself a Casio lol so much for "saving up". Went to yush to finish up work. For dins, went to Thai Moment with Bubu and it was delish. Bubu taught me how to utilize the Grab app for discounts! Woop!

--

3 Aug 2024

3rd August 2024, Saturday Listening: You Give Me Something, James Morrison lol

Went to the dentist's in the morning to pick up my invisaligners. Stopped by the grocers for stuff. Lunk was the usual with Mom :)

Did work at CBTL MK because the last time I went there, it was pretty chill. Dins at Bens with 2121 :)

--

4 Aug 2024

4th August 2024, Sunday Listening: Fast Car, Tracy Chapman

Unexpected news of the passing of fido’s dad. Innalillah..

Thankfully 31 called me albeit later than usual. Rushed to the place, it was my first time in sijangkang. I teared up seeing fido and mai tearing up.

Afterwards, joined HH & Nins for breakfast.

Then meet up with 31. It was a looong day. I felt guilty for leaving the house too long though.

Praying for strength for Fido and the family.

[ibelieveinghost]

3/23/24

sooooooo much happened this past week and I need to note down how things made me feel!!!

1st off I don't have my new visa yet. let's get that out of the way. I don't worry as much now. again, strange feeling.

2 things happened yesterday. went to M's orientation. I felt like my Japanese is def getting better, but not quite there yet. not sure how much help a part time job would do, but hopefully there'd be some improvements. fun fact: my employee selfie ranked 16/750,000 ppl LOL no kidding. I got that smile goin' oh and it's freaking cold yesterday. short sleeved uniform made it 1000x worse.

like...man. I felt kinda, really, honestly pretty umm...inadequate. as an adult. in terms of adulting abilities. the way I spent all my years doing big brain research stuff and not even having the experience dealing with 'real ppl'. not even a part time job(despite working at library for 6 years which doesn't count...too safe an environment), not to mention fast food/catering position like this. i have this looming fear(again) that this バイト experience would touch me in some profound, disturbing way. but anyway. I'd only grow more mature. with more tools and the mental agility to deal with more to come. like. yea. guess that's worth the price.

ok dok enough of that. Asa and I went watched dune 2 last night!!! imax laser at Shinjuku TOHO and it was so so so good! despite not having watched the first one, I find the fact of not knowing 100% what's going on less of a problem than me checking out their asses(yum) all the fucking time. would watch again, probably 4D next time bc I want to feel that sand(probably water, if we're being realistic) on my face. anyway, it was beautifully made. I came to the theater knowing jack shit about what dune it and left loving what I watched.

so that's Friday! I hangout with K Thursday, and had a long interview that evening too. again, I didn't do too well... which means I did kinda okay. still warming up to the interviewing thing I guess. hope I can get a third interview (they have 4 bruh), or a teaching demonstration next week. if I end up getting the offer, it'd be splendid. but I'm not exactly in a place be optimistic. those people are way too qualified than my current level. but I'll prepare anyway. you really can't treat ur pride or sense of worth too seriously in time like this. I know I have what I need. I know some feelings are only natural. and I decide to not dwelling on anything that's nothing serving me good and carrying me forward. and yes! I talked K into watching HH! big win! and we're going to the 🎤 theme cafe next Thursday woohoo! I had shifts scheduled mon-wed, so that gives me something to look forward to.

and then there's Tuesday. I hanged out with my kind and beautiful girlie D. can't believe she's going thru this much and did this much for folks who care so little about her. anger. I was angry. no one take advantages of my friends like this. I'll check on her more often and try to hang out more often. that's the least I can do. it's not like I can ask her to break up. but I'll be there for her.

mon and wed I slept away no kidding. I'll stop here. now photos:

(THE BEST CHINESE DISH I HAD IN TOKYO+proof that's I was NOT KIDDING)

(food and drinks lol)

(that was a nice walk we had roppongi->sendagaya beautiful weather + good tea, real good tea)

(the cards I got for my teachers! + not looking bad!)

I kinda forgot the write about my little trip to ikebukuro w/ asa last weekend. it was so much fun & I drank so much cheap wine at saizeria lol I'd like to add an entry for that night specifically but who r we kidding. chances are I just forget again. so here are the photos:

(wuwuwuwuwuwu BABIES)

(simply the best cheap wine out there and I'm ready to die on this hill. and... finally got to sit at the window seat at this saizeria crying shaking+literally stayed until the place closed)

(and we went to kichijoji on a whim. 終電までeven more chit chat at the park. it was so nice. so nice. so nice)

ok wow long entry! exactly what I wanted to do on a cold Saturday morning at my fav coffee place. closing thought: I think ppl don't understand how loud Japanese ppl can be. not complaining just stating the fact, that they can be really fucking loud in public. not sure where the 'quite' stereotype came from, and I believed it before I moved here. these. people. are. loud.

ok! off to have a productive day. hopefully! somehow this week ended up being so packed with social stuff/obligations. didn't even have the time to write here/on my journal. didn't have the time to study. hmmm..although I did read 500 pages of radioapple fanfic. but that's my selfceare leisure time!!! yea I read some really, REALLY good fluff. like oh my stars. that will never happen in canon but definitely a possibility and def not OOC.

b-bye!

[lucidreamsxx]

"Do it now"

Boyfriend! Gojo Satoru x AFAB!GN! Reader (SMUT)

TW: railing, oral, fingering, alot of cumming (mostly gonna go pretty vanilla but we'll see with the progressing posts)

You were on the way back from work, tired to the bone after assisting the new first years in fighting curses. Satoru being Satoru, decided that he was just going to leave you to handle it since he wanted to buy souvenirs for the second years.

"That lanky monkey!" you cursed irritatedly under your breath thinking of his annoying smirk .

*FLASHBACK*

"Yaaa, Y/N - channn~" Gojo cheerfully said as he grabbed you by the waist and spun you around, as you were giving the new first years a lesson on hand-to- hand combat.

"O-oi Satoru, put me down the kids are watching" you said while blushing profusely, to which 'the kids' (Yuji,Megumi and Nobara) spun around at once suddenly taking interest in the weather and not wanting to see their sensei's being all touchy-feely.

"Oi, Satoru" you said more sternly this time, "put me down, your disrupting my class" giving him a playful smack as he dropped you to the ground without warning, smirking annoying above you as your butt felt a slight sting.

"Hehehehehe..~" Hh gave a slight giggle as you got uo and dusted yourself off, clearly not wanting to entertain the white haired sorceror.

"Y/N chaann~ I've got something to tell you~" he said,

You feeling abit petty that day decided to ignore him, which OBVIOUSLY resulted in him following you around like a lost puppy apologizing for dropping you smack ass on the ground.

"Hai hai" you finally said, relenting into his begging after 5 minutes, i mean who could blame you? His puppy face is indeed the best of the best. "Now tell me Satoru, what do you want?" You say while petting the head of the tall white haired man-child,

"So, there's this curse that's been detected in the area, and i was hoping to bring the first years to fight it.." he said while nuzzling into your touch,

"Ok and..?" You asked, still not getting where he was going,

"Well, something came up, so...IHAVETOGOY/NBECAUSETHEIRSELLINGSOMENEWSWEETSINIKEBUKUROANDIPROMISEDTHESECONDYEARSSOMESOIHOPEYOUCANTAKECAREOFTHEFIRSTYEARSANDBRINGTHEMTOFIGHTTHECURSES, BYEEEEE~" He gave a slight yell as he pulled homself away and bolted,

"...." you stood there registering the word vomit your boyfriend just spat out and when you did,

"GOJO FUCKIN' SATORU!!!" you hollered accross the yard as the first years covered the ears at the volume you yelled at.

*FLASHBACK OVER*

"Uhhh..."you sighed as you dragged your ass back home. You got into the elevator and it took you to the topmost floor: The Penthouse a.k.a. you and your boyfriend's shared living space. You grabbed your keys from your pocket and with a *clunk* you opened the large wooden doors. You proceeded to take your shoes off and put on your comfortable bunny slippers, courtesy of Satoru buying matching pairs. Speaking of him, you noticed his bunny slippers weren't there which means, you thought with a grumble, he's probably already in the house doing his jazz while you were out fighting curses.

With another sigh you walked in, and you were soon greeted by the sight of the white haired sorcerer spread haphazardly on the L-shaped couch in the living room, blindfold lying on the coffee table and the TV blaring as you felt a headache coming on, you picked up the remote switched it off and proceeded to walk away, causing Gojo to turn around and look at your retreating back with a playful smirk.

He got up and bounded up to you as he got right infront of you and held your face your E/C eyes looking right into his ocean blue ones.

"Aww is my lil' baby mad~" he cooed while cupping your face causing you to swat his hands away in annoyance,

"Not now Satoru, i'm tired" you grumbled, trying to move away, twas' unfortunate that you weren't fast enough as he caught you by the waist and placed his face in the crook of your neck.

And despite your words telling him to let go, your body responded otherwise as you melted into his touch,

"Baby, i know you're mad that i ditched you to fight curses by yourself but.." he said sweetly as his mouth neared your ear, "..let me make it up to you~" he purred as he bit your earlobe, a shiver going up your spine as both of your cursed energies began to mingle. He continued biting as his hands traveled from your waist to your ass, giving it a light squeeze earning a hum from you, you could feel him smile against your ear at your reaction as he lifted you onto his waist and proceeded to carry you into the bedroom all while peppering your face and neck with butterfly kisses.

Once in the room he gently put you down on the bed and moved above you, what was butterfly kisses now turned into a heated makeout session, his mouth slammed against yours as both of your tongues fought for dominance, as you finally relented his tongue explored the entirety of your mouth as his explored your body, he knew every curve, every scar, every freckle, to him you were a galaxy and your insecurities; constellations. He knew you like the back of his hand and you do too, as his hands moved over your now sensitive skin, your body responded to his touch.

Soon his hand was under your shirt while his tongue relentlessly wrestled against yours, his hands moved upward removing your clothing alltogether, his eyes shining when he saw that you were all but bare underneath. He didn't waste a moment, his hands attacking your nipples, rolling them between his forefinger and thumb he could feel how sensitive you were, hi hands roamed your body as yours wound around his neck rubbing yourself against him for some friction as he laughed into your kiss,

"My my, so impatient are we baby? Don't worry darling i'll make sure to pleasure you every bit tonight~" he whispered into your ear his voice sultry as his right hand moved into your pants finding your clit that was now soaking wet, his left hand still abusing your nipple.

He started flicking the nub as he attached his mouth onto your other nipple earning a gasp from you, which him taking as a sign he slipped two fingers into you. You moaned from being opened up as he continued sucking faster and his hands started to move faster as well, you moaning and bucking your hips up under him turning him on even more, to which he added three fingers and then finally four.

He continued to do that faster and faster until he felt you cum all over his fingers shuddering beneath him, he smiled as he lifted his hand out leaving you empty as you whined, he started licking your juices off of his fingers. He went down on you and started sucking and biting your pussy as you bucked into his face and your hands tangled through his hair and pulled his mouth into your pussy, you legs locking around his neck, as you felt yourself cum for the second time right into his mouth as he swallowed all of it.

"S-Satoru.." you whined "i need you...do it now..."

"I know baby and i'm gonna give you all of me" he whispered back as he got his now cum covered mouth off of your pussy started sucking on your neck now earning more moans from you as he quickly pulled his pants off, his member, atleast 8 inches, stood large and thick, earning a glimmer from your eyes which Satoru did not miss.

He continued giving you hickeys as he lined himself up at your entrance and without warning, pushed all the way in, earning an extremely loud and lewd moan from you,

"Fuck Y/N you're pussy's so fucking tight" he groaned as he saw the shape of his large cock streching against your inside,

"Ahhhhhh, hmmm....S-Satoru..toru..S-S-Saato..." your words slurred as he immediatly started thrusting into you, your hips banging against his creating absolutely beautiful lewd skin slapping and wet squelching sounds in the room, the bed underneath you thankfully strong.

"ahhhh, ahh......AH...AHHHHH, HMMM AGHHHUMMMMM...YES, LIKE THAT FUCK, SATO...HMMM...FUCK...FUUCKKKK..YESSS" you were mindlessly slurred beneath him, you legs pushed so far back that your knees were almost touching your ears, now a moaning mess underneath him, as Gojo growled into your ear as he lifted one of your legs up ont his shoulder as he fucked into you like there's no tomorrow.

"Fuck Y/N...FUUUCKK....AGHH,ARGHHHHHHHH.." He grunted and groaned right into your ear as he picked up pace, faster and faster, abusing the fuck out of your pussy, at the same time using his thumb to vigorously rub your clit causing overstimulation as you drooled and slurred, bucking up your hips more and more against him.

Soon you could feel his thrust becoming more uneven and rough, you could feel that he was close the way he was twitching inside of you, and you were close too and Gojo could tell, he could tell by the way you tight pussy was milking his dick,

"Ahh, hmmm...S-Satoru..i'm..i"m gonna....cu-cum...hmmmm" you moaned out as he held your hips in place thrusting inhumanely fast as he neared his high too,

"Hmmm, just hold on...Y/N... let's cum together...ARGHH...." he groaned, as his thrusts got sloppier and sloppier,

"Hmmm, Y/N, now!" He said as you finally released your cum, it poured out of you as your legs shook, and as you were cumming Satoru came as well, your pussy milking him so bad he came all at once inside of you, shooting jet after jet of hot thick white cum inside of you, your walls being painted in his hot cum as you could feel yourself being filled to the brim with his semen, and when he finally pulled out he was happy to see the artwork he created, your pussy beautifully abused and pink with both your juices and cum dripping out your now full belly, and you lay beautifully exhausted and fucked out your mind before him.

He got off the bed and headed to the bathroom and started the bath, he came back and slowly but gently carried you and out you into the beautifully luke warm water as he settled in behind you and gently proceeded to scrub your back, after the bath was done he wrapoed you up in a towel and got his shirt and his boxers for you to wear as he got into some clothes himself, as you finished dressing he once again carried you much to your refusal saying, "My poor baby is probably too fucked to walk and as a caring boyfriend i should take care of you~" he cooed as he once again set you on the bed which now has new sheets and everything as you comfortably settled in, with Satoru next to you as you cuddled into his chest and his arm was wrapped around your waist.

You could soon feel yourself slipping to dreamland the last thing you remember being Gojo kissing your forhead and mumbling a gentle "i love you my darling" as he pulled you into his chest.

[with-the-same-tattoos]

I love Sirppi!!! Can we get more stuff about them and Brahms and how they interact with each other?

A-hh,hhhs;;;; (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ t-tysm... GLADLY. I'm planning on trying to write a lil first draft level thingy based on radio brahms as an exercise when my summer break starts (dunno if ill post since itll be just that, first draft, just a way for me to practice how i work stories in that world & how i might one day tell my own full stories w/in it), so I'm VERY happy to talk abt it & any questions can be very helpful.

I think I have to mention about radio brahmses personality in this a bit b4 i get started on the interactions !!! In GENERAL i depict Brahms a bit more mature than the standard, more as a dad jokes kinda guy who just has no socialization. Same applies here. He is actually very wanting and willing to be an adult, but he is just incredibly bad at it (or parts of it), and he thinks it has to be all kept a secret. Yada yada. In radio, Brahms is the one who comes forward after getting over his nerves. He is incredibly bad at understanding his flaws and recieving critisism, but also incredibly bad at expressing his emotions / what he wants / etc. Has some serious social anxiety. Is still severely nasty.

So when it comes to interactions, I'll jump directly to when Brahms has shown himself. Before that, Sirppi has begun to chat with the doll and actually get kind of comfortable. When they find out Brahms is... well, Brahms, they're kinda in shock, and at first, they just try to Stay Safe for the first few days "until the shopkeeper stops by". They almost completely ignore Brahms, and make clear that they are taking care of a child, the doll Brahms. They keep up the routine. Similiarly to when Greta returns to the house and uses that parent voice, expect Sirppi, who has gotten kinda comfy talking with the doll, talks at brahms the doll, and Brahms the lad kinda is just. A) weirded out b) so used to following this routine c) doesn't know what else to do so he just. Follows along at first, but this time, staying around Sirppi, coming out of the walls more. He just sits there, awkwardly, staring, not knowing like. What 2 do.

did some quick warmup sketches before i start work too so >:)

It scatters from there, Brahms starts to kinda slowly gather the nerve to do things, and Sirppi slowly realizes that he rly is just like a dude and warms up to him.

Some small bits n pieces of interaction scenarios I'm thinkinh sbt;

Sirppi is not a good cook, they just try to get things done as fast as possible. They start by Sirppi making Brahms food, but one day Sirppi wakes up to Brahms very upbeat at their door, following them to the dining room, where they find a full 5 star filling breakfast for the two of them, and that's the first time they eat at the table at the same time, together (however, Sirppi doesn't like that Brahms didn't make a plate for the Brahms doll, and gets one themself for it) (Brahms id confused but is like fine)

Sirppi started out reading more childrens type books to the Brahms doll, but slowly Brahms starts to give them like fr fr poetry books and stuff and they actually kinda slip away from their lil game 2gether when they have a lil convo abt some poem and its meaning. Sirppi gets flustered and book time is over.

Sirppi is quiet and soft voiced, but they raise their voice one time when Brahms gets too close, and he is very cranky and annoyed by it and whines and complains in his head and questions and questions but. He respects their personal space still, afterwards. And he's angry and annoyed every time he wants to be close but can't, but he still tries his best to not make them uncomfy, and at some point he realizes that it's bc the comfort of others is actually pretty important to him. And he starts to question what his own comfort includes and limits. He one day tells Sirppi off about smth he feels is uncomfortable, and Sirppi respects it, and that day they eat 2gether in a happy, meaningful silence :')

Uhmmm OK I WONT RAMBLE MORE FOR THIS ONR I GTA GET TO WORK BUY.... THANK U FOR CARING IT MEANS A LOT TO.ME

[13tinysocks]

hiii!!! i feel like you have good taste so i was wondering if you have any toby fic recs? or any other character in general if you don't have any! sorry for bothering u btw and i hope you're doing well!!! loved syg btw i think about it often <333

Glad you like our work and you're very sweet im going to lovingly hold you like a mini pumpkin.

Sorry but I'm ultra picky and haven't read much fic as of late. I do have some fics that I thought were fun reads but neither are really romance.

This one's my favorite fanfic, hands down. It's a good read. Playing Favorite's is a dark fic, very much a thriller survival sorta deal. It's one sided romantically. This take on Toby is pretty abusive and assholeish. I really liked how they wrote Tim and Brian- Took some traits from this and put em into syg.

There's a few more fics with Toby I've enjoyed or am very nostalgic for, Hooded Husbands, Sand In The Hourglass, Toby fic classics if you ask me.

HH - direct insp behind syg. More classic than Chains imo.

Sith - pre-proxy to proxy Toby fic (I never finished since I've got the attention span of a peanut) The author's recently re-emerged and has talked about doing a rewrite. This and the last are very old and written by younger folks.

As for one that's longer that I enjoyed reading is:

Fun read despite it not being finished and I don't think it ever will be. You're going on a camping trip with your buds them boom proxies who are creepily obsessed with you. The pitfall of this one is it ends up how a lotta yandere fics do- there's no reason for attraction behind smth shallow and you can only go so far before you hit a wall.

If you're still lookin for something might I shamelessly push You'll Catch Your Death- Bee and I's other proxy fic. Its only 400 pages and not into the face suckin yet but we're getting there. Absolute dark fic that deals a lot with mental illness, codependence, obsession, and the consequences of forcing yourself to grow up too fast. We're just starting to get into the real meat of the fic so feel free to hop on for the ride.

[kitkatopinions]

[1] I don't what point they're trying to get too, but CRWBY is going too fast. I mean I know the overall point they want to get for the series; stop Salem (and hopefully no further than thag). But the pacing is so off and that really shows in V7 & 8 particularly with Ironwood. They wanted Ironwood to be an evil dictator that would willingly bomb a city, but the thing is they did it in such a quick flip that is jarring.

When you're right, you're right. RWBY has always had a pretty bad pacing problem, whether it's 'fixing' Weiss's problems with Ruby in one episode in V1 or rushing Yang's V4 recovery arc, the show has always struggled to figure out how to prioritize and take its time. But, this problem has gotten a little more obvious in the last two seasons.

Hazel's redemption and Emerald's redemption were absolutely horribly done, partly because they rushed through them at the speed of light, while they contrast the 'fall' of James Ironwood into a villain role that went from zero to a hundred within the span of two to three in-universe days without the show taking the time to put much proper focus on it or give it the emotional depth it deserved. The Hound was in and out too quick, despite being one of the better concepts to come out of the eighth season. And that's the same with the Cinder/Neo/Watts team up of the century that a lot of people were really interested in and were calling it actual character development and a good change, and then had to put on clown paint when it ended an episode later with everything returning to the status quo. I'd say Ozpin's 'make up' with the team was rushed, too, but honestly that's the least of my concerns with him returning to the team. Qrow and Clover was so rushed that I was seriously weirded out and confused when Qrow's reaction to Clover's death was so big, because to me they seemed like they barely knew each other. I've never understood why both the show and a lot of the FNDM decided that Clover was so important to Qrow, and Qrow jumping to 'kill Ironwood' was also really weird, since we'd been given plenty of reason to believe that Ironwood was Qrow's trusted friend, and very little reason to believe that Qrow hated him, until the guy he'd known for like two months and one season died and suddenly Qrow didn't care about Ironwood at all.

On top of this, Blake and Yang's relationship was rushed in V6 and then stagnated, and the writer's attempt to make them 'fight' in volume eight was so stupid and ridiculous that it was comical (and very frustrating.) Them making everyone drop concerns they have with Ruby within a short while is - like you said - another example of everything going too fast. Weiss 'reconciling' with Whitley and Willow was done too fast and with very little depth, leaving it feeling lackluster and leaving Willow's affection for either of her children feeling fake as hell. Robyn Hill's entire character is a product of rushed and badly done 'growth,' and despite her and Qrow spending episodes together in prison with nothing to do, they still charged ahead with "now these two are friends" too fast and it fell totally flat. I liked May Marigold, but the HH were in the same boat as Robyn, not given enough development and feeling forced into important roles they didn't earn, and the same can be said for the Ace Ops. Salem herself, the main villain, came and went in less than a volume and the terrible way they thrust her into the story only to hastily try to find a way to make her not a threat made her seem so unscary that I can't take her seriously at all anymore.

I was literally shocked when I realized that they weren't spending another season in Atlas, and I even theorized that maybe RWBY was getting cancelled soon, and that's why they were rushing everything so fast in V8. But tbh, with the lack of faith I have in these writers, it's very possible that they just failed, that they just suck.

They didn't take the time to develop almost anything in Volumes seven and eight, and what development they did give us in volume seven seemed to fly out the window in volume eight anyway, or didn't matter anymore.

RWBY is a show that has always struggled to develop story beats and character arcs and dynamics and I and a lot of fans have 'filled in the blanks' on a lot of what they left empty or hastily glossed over, but that gets harder and harder to do the more they get sloppy and overconfident. The fanbase shouldn't have to do this. The fanbase shouldn't have to look at characters who are meant to matter to each other and sighingly try to headcanon up most of their relationship and/or dynamic. They shouldn't have to look at a Very Important arc that the writers are so proud of and then go "okay, time to figure out how to force this to make sense."

There's a certain amount of that in every piece of media, fleshing out characters and their pasts or their relationship is a fandom past-time no matter what fandom you're talking about (heck, I've seen it in the LOTR fandom,) but after a certain point, it starts to feel like we're putting way more work into it than the actual show writers, and that's weird and it's also tiring.

I've seen this argument from RWBY simps that RWDE posters are mad we "have to think about things" and that things aren't just handed to us on a silver platter, but I don't think that's true. We're willing to play a little catch up and flesh out dynamics here and there. I've been doing that in fandoms for forever. There's a difference between doing that, and needing to do a lot of work and a lot of re-writing and world building to make most of the show actually make sense or feel emotionally significant.

RWBY wasn't always like this. I was more than happy to fill in the blanks for seasons of it and get by on vibes and concepts to match what meat and substance we did get. But now I feel like almost everything is so rushed, underdeveloped, forced, or badly handled that trying to 'fill in the gaps' has turned into essentially writing a fix-it fic in your head. So I'd rather just put my mental energy into actually writing a fix-it fic instead of trying to force myself to put in the work that the writers don't for the show proper itself.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Friends to Lovers with Tony Stark

Tony Stark x reader

warnings:

a/n: i make bad decisions and then write immediately after, hope this didn’t absolutely suck

prompt: anonymous: “Headcanons going from best friends to lovers with Tony Stark”

meeting one another way back in the day, children on wildly weathly businessmen

actually forced to play together while your parents were in business meetings

you ended up resenting each other

mostly because every time you had to see each other, it got boring really fast

and your parents shit talked his parents constantly so you accepted that it should just be that way

YEARS later you and him reconnected when you attended MIT

“son of a bitch, what are the odds? tony goddamn stark”

“the odds aren’t in our favor, i guess”

not only were the two of you in assigned seats for the semester, you were also lab partners

but then you realized that you two were feuding for no reason and you actually enjoyed each others company

in this setting, your friendship thrived

“dude, i cant believe that we spent our entire childhood despising each other”

“yeah, y/n, you really missed out. i’m a motherfucking pleasure”

“oh, shut up, tony!”

pulling all nighters because the two of you get distracted by each others presence often

“y/n, try and catch the popcorn in your mouth. say ‘aaaahh’”

“oh, shit. wait, okay. ahhhhh” *throws popcorn and hits your eye* “wait, one more time!”

some wild nights on the town, occasionally stumbling back to your dorms after a few too many drinks

sometimes tony goes out on his own and calls you when he can’t make it home

“hh-ey se—” *burps* “sexy. could you maybeee, i dunno, i need some. some help getting home”

“same place as last time?”

“yeahh, that’s the place.” *hic* “im gonna throw up”

“i have the bucket in my backseat”

and yeah, he calls you sexy when he’s drunk, you just deal with it

he also forgets his keys a lot so thats a whole other mission for you

being bored as hell on school breaks because you have to go back to your families and hear them complain about one another (and ofc report back and make fun of your dramatic ass parents)

but one day you got a call from tony over winter holiday and you were excited to hear his voice until it seemed a little shaky

“hey? everything alright?”

“not...not really. i’ve got some bad news. really bad news...”

he could barely get his words out after that, but he told you his parents had been in an accident

you immediately left your house and drove hours to go see tony, this was his moment of need

mysteriously not long after that, your parents suffered a similar fate

the two of you took over your companies and had much more reasonable meetings, a wonderful partnership, indeed

but you were still two childish idiots at times

you’d bring each other to parties and shit

“you guys have met y/n, right? my date?”

“yep, this is tony, my date”

ongoing joke

ofc you two have done some shit on dares

i firmly believe tons of ppl have dared you guys to make out and who are y/n l/n and tony stark to turn down a good dare?

“what’s he taste like?”

“those goddamn blueberries he’s always eating”

he always has snacks always

several headlines have been speculation on whether or not you two are dating

tony drives you around tons

wants to “show you a good time”

blasting music while speeding down the road

honestly? sharing hotel rooms just bc you feel safer together

especially after he disappeared for so long

“oh my god, tony, i was worried sick abouy you”

“have you written my obituary yet? i gotta read it before i do anything else. how will i be remembered?”

“shut up and give me a hug, you asshole”

playfully making fun of each other

him showing you his “greatest creation” which was a battle suit (which was actually pretty badass)

“i want one”

“no way, this is my baby. you cant have my baby. unless you wanna have my baby” *wink wink*

ah, pepper likes when you’re around bc you distract tony from her and get him back on his work

and happy likes you because tony’s less paranoid around you

you’re like his second bodyguard but you dont get paid

CANT forget rhodey he cant stand you only bc you remind him of tony

but overall you’re alright

you CANNOT HELP but laugh at tony when he does something unfathomably stupid!!!!

even if hes in immediate danger you sometimes cant stop laughing (but that might just be panic.)

as the avengers came up, you weren’t invited on that “business trip” >:(

instead you got to accompany pepper on some stark/l/n business and ended up seeing tony nearly die on live tv

the second you saw him again, you couldn’t tell if you were happy or furious to see him

“you son of a bitch, stark! you had me so worried that you weren’t gonna make it, i might as well kill you myself! don’t ever do something so stup—”

tony kissed you

but like, for real

not as a joke

it seemed right, so you kissed back

“yeah, i missed you, too. can we go get some dinner and catch up?”

“wait, that was..?”

“long overdue, i know”

wasn’t long before the tabloids got ahold of some more “tony x y/n” content

and the lovely rumor was confirmed at a press conference!

“mr. stark, is it true that you and y/n l/n have an official relationship?”

“hell yeah, it’s true! you heard here first, folks! y/n and i are an item! and i fuckin’ love them!”

you made the cover of 5 different magazines 😌

you supported tony on his adventures but you wanted in

“really, after what happened in new york? well, i guess you saving my life on the battlefield would be kind of hot...sure. we’ll give it a shot”

“nuh-uh, tony. i’m in whether you like it or not!”

“that’s why i love you, you do it all. even when i don’t want you to”

engineering your own tech for yourself and others to help on missions

you did surprisingly well

tony had some issues that needed resolving though...like flirting during fights

“wow, y/n, you look great from this angle” *gets hit by some projectile*

“hah! serves you right!”

seriously, you guys were an iconic couple

and it helped that you guys were already so comfortable with each other, the two of you knew exactly what the other was thinking, it was baffling that you guys didn’t actually have powers

but tony was still tony and he had a problem putting you in danger, he was most comfortable with his arm around you

avengers parties and other dealings kept you busy busy busy

but you always made time for one another

and had tons of fun wherever you could

one might even say you and tony were...endgame (im so sorry)

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @praellee // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs //

[rawliverandcigarettes]

Also, speaking of salarian planets : since Trigestis predicted a planet's existence and location mathematically when all the planets in the Pranas system in ME3 are close enough to be seen from Sur'Kesh (Halegeuse is closer to Pranas than Jupiter is to the Sun), do you have a headcanon to fix that ? Like, faulty interface in ME3, or something fancier, like Trigestis's planet being exploded during the Krogan Rebellions ? I hope I'm not being a bother.

Hello again! I'm sorry it took me AGES to get to it and I will, shamelessly, blame it on new job syndrome again.

So I kind of want to use this ask, if that's okay, to confess something slightly embarrassing coming from a narrative designer and someone who slugged through releasing a fic under the guise of "I want to get it right" for so many years: the more time goes by, the more I realize I am not as much of a lore nerd as I thought I was.

It's more complicated than that actually: I adore, ADORE lore that deepens art thematically. Whatever I can get that gives me insight on societies, culture or characters, even biology/geology **that adds an insight on theme**, love it. Can't get enough (ish when it comes to HH, because I'm actually a coward and I'll get to that).

But lore that exists to fill up Codex pages, lore that I sense have been written under pressure of deadline or does not intrisincally tells me more about why is this story told... It can tire me pretty easily. That's why I do not care, could not possibly care less about the obligatory million details about gun and weaponry in videogame codexes (not just ME), or the fetishism around military hierarchy breakdowns (unless it's used as a jumping point to explore character or world, but it's rarely the case and ends up being just weirdly reverent, nearly ritualistic --the attention given to these details does inform on themes, but way more on what has been prioritized than the actual details in these cases imho). It got way worse since I started doing the work myself; there's at once so many thoughts put on the details, and also so little in certain cases --you just gotta cram something and it's the compromise that you got at the eighth meeting on the matter, and it's kind of meaningless by that point and a weird middle ground nobody is truly happy with, but the deadline's looming and you have bigger fights to concentrate on so whatever, ship it I guess.

A lot of videogame lore gives me this sort of vibes now, and the planet descriptions of Mass Effect, while honestly pack-fulled with treasures of characterization that gives some underwhelming species more characterization that we ever got in the main missions, have probably been written either by a contractor with a tight deadline that proposed concepts fast and had to iterate on the rejects even faster, or by a core team member that did this on the side when no fire was currently roasting the game alive. It's speculation of course, but most of this "codex" game writing is very dense and high-input work that does not really allow for self-reflection or letting the content simmer and slowly shape sense out of itself. So while I love the details and some are so good, I have to admit I generally choose and pick from whatever speaks to me in this sort of descriptors, and it's been a hot while since I last cruised the galaxy searching for these treasures of worldbuilding. I should do it more! But it did slide down as a the bottom of priorities, just like this writing probably did in real life....

But to actually answer your ask instead of going on a weird tangent about game writing work: I'm gonna be honest, I completely forgot about that bit. I could make up an explanation on the spot, but the truth is: I was kind of waiting to get on The Empire of Preys to do a checkpoint on deep salarian lore (especially location related), and have it inform the detailing of the writing past the big lines --actual salarian culture shows up surprisingly little in Halfway Home given Shlee is completely allergic to his salarianness and runs away from it as fast as he can!!!!

Another embarassing confession that I took an even more embarassingly long time to work through: for the first years of working on the project, I felt very vulnerable and defensive about my interpretation of the story and themes, and I was terrified, absolutely terrified of illegitimacy. So confronting myself to lore again after my initial judgement/gut feeling, after all the emotional attachment I put into the story and all the deep meaning it took for me, was not an option I enjoyed at all, and I avoided everything Andromeda because I was so scared of what it could do to my fragile reasonning. Since then I decided I cared way less about doing a completely valid and diligent reading of micro-details of lore than to put my own spin on the universe, in conversation with it rather than restricted and bound by its, sometimes, arbitrary limitations. I still have to ploy around plot points (UGH Cerberus DLC *shakes fist*), but only if I can make it into a Point somehow (I think I did with the aforementioned after years of battling with it). But paradoxically, letting go of this insecurity (which is still in process of deconstruction, I am not completely above it yet) allowed me to rediscover hidden gems of lore, question my biases and interpretations, and helped me deepen my story. So I'm super glad you bring it up, I'll definitively look into it and see if I can twist this inconsistency into A Point or let it go!

I'm sorry I replied exactly 0% of what you asked, but I think the opportunity to go a lil' Author On Main (TM) was too good to pass. Sorryyyyy. ._.