#ELLA: Get away from me demon!

[villainanders]

Choosing to read DA2 Justice as a Disco Elysium skill check implanted into Anders’ mind and everything about him makes more sense

[silkythewriter]

Angel on fire

Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle. (Part 1)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel

Author note: I JUST WANNA WORK ON SOMETHING FOR MYSELF BEFORE JUMPING BACK TO DOING REQUESTS ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.

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“You should've seen the way she looked, igual que un ángel

Heaven's her residence y ella no se va a caer

They just can't reach her, princesita inalcanzable“

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The air was heavy almost unbreathable, how the demons lived like this was dancing around in your mind. It was so much different in hell then in heaven, there was so much… malice but that’s to be expected you supposed.

But you choose to continue walking, in your disguise of course, the out rage there would be if one of heavens top angels were in hell would be quite the mess to say the least. But you had to risk it, if charlie was right, if souls truly could be redeemed…maybe…just maybe, you’d be able to see him once more.

Finally you reached the hotel doors, and with one last stride stood right were the door knob was. Your nerves were going array to say the least, you knew what this rebellion could cost you. But it was for him, it always was, wasn’t it?, you quickly snapped out of you mind as you took a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting anxiously. A creek rang out in your ears as the door opened, coming face to face with the princess of hell herself. She looked at you with confusion before quickly turning it into excitement as she bounced around quickly grabbing your arm and letting you in as she shut the door in a hurry.

“I’m so glad you made it!” She squealed. Leaving you surprise after the rough hearing in heaven she had just a day ago. “I’m glad I made it aswell, it took much more then I was expecting but I’m glad no one seemed to notice!” You said gracefully as you could. “Have you made sure everyone’s away?” You asked in hushed tone, she quickly nodded as she explained “yes I have!, though it cost a bit but Cherri took them out for a bit!” She said nervously playing with her hair “although this time I said to stray away from clubs…” she said with a heavy sigh. You placed your hand on her shoulder comforting as you began to speak “I’m sure we’ll figure something out!” You said with a sure smile. Making her regain hers as she agreed “yea! Your right, okay, let’s do this!” She said as her hands turned in to fist to pump herself up.

“So, what was your idea?”

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“So! What do you think?, I know it sounds a bit crazy but!-“ you quickly cut her off “it isn’t crazy Charlie! It just needs some work…” you smiled softly at the girl making her look back at her board covered in strings and notes. “Yea.. I know..” she said pacing “look, I know I said I have connections with adam.. but it’s gonna take some time to convince him.. especially if you and I wanna not make it look suspicious” you said pondering what your next move should be.

“I know but even for that one day in heaven I could tell he has some favoritism for you!” Charlie exclaimed “yes but-“ you inquired before she cut you off “look, Y/n, I just need the date of the extermination to be pushed back! He said he’ll come for us first and I just… I don’t know what to do! He won’t listen!” She said as her hand stressfully began to run through her blond hair as her pacing picked up pace. “He won’t listen, but I’ll make him listen Charlie, that’s an angels promise” you said trying to calm the girl. Which seemingly helped her before she sat down next to you sighing. Before turning her head to you questioning something in her head before finally speaking up.“I know this might be rude, don’t get me wrong! I’m so glad you actually listen to my idea! But…what’s the reasoning? I mean barely anyone even tried agreeing! But you’re.. just leading a hand for the hell of it?” She questioned with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. You only stared at her as you questioned if you should even trust her with such information you were about to tell.“I…I have someone who’s dear to me here, and I just, I just want him back in my arms” you confessed making the princesses eyes widen. “Who!” She asked almost too quickly, you shook your head in disappointment “I apologize princess but I’m afraid that’s something I wish to not reveal” you said.

“Look I have to get going, someones probably already getting suspicious of my absents” you said standing up and dusting off your clothing “but like I promised I’ll see what I can do and I’ll push the date as far back as I can, okay?” You said as you looked down at Charlie who still was seated at the couch. She could only nod, but you could tell she had some Sorrow in her mood. “Please keep your head up high princess, do not let them knock down your dreams.” You said silently as you bowed to her “I’ll be taking my leave but please put your trust in me, I will keep your and my people safe” you said with a smile as she stood up eyes drifting to you. “I..I trust you y/n” she said with a soft smile you only nodded to this as a portal behind you soon began to open. “I’ll come back soon, and with good news” you said as you slowly backed into the portal “take care princess” you said one final time at her.

She nodded as you gave her one last reassuring smile before fully walking into the portal. leaving the princess in a half better state then she was before.

But little did both of you know, a red haired demon was carefully listening in to both of you. Oh how his smile grew all the more bigger

His precious y/n was soon to be home,

With him once more.

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EEEE THIS IS PART ONE IM WORKING IN PART TWO SOON I REALLY AM GOING CRAZY FOR THE STORY IM ABT TO COOK UP AHHH ̋(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

[fanfictionalraven]

Dream Warriors Chapter 2

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 2

Summary: Dean suggests a possible explanation for the reader’s dream. The couple and Sam head out on a potential case.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other original characters

Word Count: 3,992

Warnings: Angst, mentions of a miscarriage, canon typical gore

Author’s Note: If miscarriages are triggering, I would proceed with caution.

Read Chapter 1 here.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean starts, pouring a cup of coffee. He’d just gotten you calmed down enough to move to the kitchen of the bunker. While you’d filled him in on the dream you’d had, he fixed a pot of coffee. He brings two mugs over, setting one in front of you, before sitting across from you at the table. “No monsters. Our families were alive. You were married to some douche of a professor. Had a baby girl with said douche. We were just friends. And you’d just found out that your husband was cheating on you?” You nod before taking a long drink from the mug. Setting it back down, you sigh.

“It felt so real though. And I believed this, my life, was a dream,” you tell him, staring at the mug in your hands. Dean reaches over, his hands wrapping around your own. You’re fighting not to lose control as the memories of the dream rush back to you. “My family was alive, Dean. I – I got to hug them again. And – and my brother was married and they had a son.” Dean squeezes your hands as the tears overwhelm you again. “And Ella…”

“The baby,” he says softly. You nod, another sob escaping you.

“She was so beautiful, Dean. So beautiful and perfect,” you cry. He gets up from his chair and makes his way around the table quickly, pulling you into his arms as you break down.

“Of course she was,” he whispers, kissing your hair. You continue to cry into his shoulder for a few minutes before finally calming down a little. You look up at him, a few tears still falling. He smiles softly as he wipes at your cheeks gently.

“She called you Bean. And she had your eyes,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head. “Well, not your eyes. They couldn’t have been. They were green like yours though.” He nods then runs his fingers into your hair.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we know what caused this,” he says. You look at him, curiously. “You know what today is, right?” He asks. You shake your head slightly as you try to recall the date. Early May maybe. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh,” you breathe. Dean nods again.

“Today was your due date,” he says. The tears well up again quickly. Dean sighs and wraps his arms around you once more. He kisses your hair as he rubs your back soothingly. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, pulling away from him.

“Don’t. Stop,” you tell him, wiping at your eyes. He frowns as he watches you.

“Maybe – maybe you should see someone,” he says. You stare at him for a moment.

“What? Like a shrink?” You ask, disbelieving. He shrugs slightly. “And tell them what, Dean? ‘Three months ago, a demon attacked me, and I miscarried our baby. I’ve sorta had a hard time dealing with it.’ No.”

“Y/N,” Dean starts but you cut him off with a sharp look.

“No,” you repeat. He runs his hands over his face in exasperation as Sam comes into the kitchen now, his open laptop in his hands.

“Hey, guys,” he says before stopping in the door, sensing the tension in the room. “Everything okay?” He asks. You look at him and nod as Dean rises to his feet.

“What ya got, Sam?” You ask. He glances at Dean before speaking again.

“Ummm – potential vamp case about 6 hours from here,” he says. You nod and stand from your chair. Dean looks at you and frowns.

“Are you sure you’re ready to get back out there?” He asks. You look at him and roll your eyes.

“I’m fine, Dean. Ready to kill something,” you tell him, heading for the hall quickly. You hadn’t been on a hunt since you’d found out you were pregnant about 8 months ago, staying back at the bunker and doing research when the guys called. You might be a little rusty but the last thing you wanted to do was sit around the bunker and think about that dream.

You knew Dean was right. Your subconscious had created an alternate reality as a way to escape the inevitable pain of today. You and Dean shouldn’t be at the bunker right now. You were supposed to be in the hospital, giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. One who, you were certain, would have looked just like little Ella from your dream. The two of you had been nervous, of course, about bringing a baby into this life but Dean was determined you could make it work. And you had for a while.

You had gone out for a simple grocery run to the local market. The bunker was running dangerously low on the necessary essentials; coffee, pie, pickles. Broad daylight in a crowded parking lot, a man sunk a knife into your pregnant belly. His eyes flashed black as they met yours before he ran away, other shoppers rushing to your aid. An ambulance was called and you were taken to the hospital but it had been too late…

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice cuts through the memories. You blink back tears as you look over at him. He sighs and makes his way across the room to where you’re standing. Shaking your head quickly, you walk over to the closet, avoiding him.

“Which suit do you want to take? The black one or the blue one?” You ask, flipping between the two. His hands come to rest on your shoulders and you immediately tense up.

“You don’t have to go,” he says. You swallow thickly and nod, turning to face him now.

“I need to go, Dean. I can’t stay here by myself. Not today,” you tell him, your eyes landing on the door to the room across the hall. He follows your gaze and frowns before nodding.

“Okay. But – will you at least stay in the room? You haven’t been out in a while and I – I can’t risk losing you too,” he says, his voice quiet. His pleading eyes meet yours and you nod your head once in response. He lets out a breath before stepping away from you. “The blue one’s fine.”

Five and a half hours later, Dean pulls the Impala into the parking lot of a motel. It was a typical stay for the three of you; not too shabby but definitely not five stars either. Sam climbs out of the backseat to go into the office. He leans down to your open window and looks in at the two of you.

“Two rooms?” He asks. You hold back a frown as you look at your hands in your lap.

“Just the one,” Dean tells him. The younger brother glances between the two of you before rising to his full height and making his way to the office door.

Before the accident, you and Dean always had your own room. It wasn’t long after the two of you had gotten together that Sam made the suggestion. You and Dean were very much in love and expressed that love regularly (and loudly according to Sam). It was really no surprise when you’d ended up pregnant. But ever since you’d lost the baby, Dean had barely touched you. Kisses were few and far between. You fell asleep facing opposite walls. He didn’t even look at you the same anymore. And you couldn’t blame him.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice breaks through your thoughts. His hand reaches across the front seat of the car and clasps one of yours. You pull it away almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, reflexively.

“You’re crying,” he says, his voice concerned. You shake your head and wipe at the stray tear quickly.

“I’m fine, Dean. Sam’s done,” you say, pointing to the other Winchester as he starts back to the car. You slip out before Dean can say anything else and Sam tosses the room key to you.

“Fifteen,” he says. The two brothers get the bags from the trunk of the car as you unlock the door to the room. You step inside and take a quick inventory. It was nearly identical to the hundreds you’d stayed in before. Nothing remarkable. Sam and Dean come in behind you and Dean deposits both of your bags onto the far bed.

“Hit the morgue first,” Dean says, mostly to himself, as he pulls his fed suit from his bag. You glance at Sam as he does the same before making your way across the room to your own bag. You quickly pull out the black pencil skirt and white button-up shirt you always took on hunts and turn for the bathroom. “What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asks, not looking up from his bag.

“I’m getting ready to go to the morgue,” you tell him casually. He sighs and you watch his hands clench into fists.

“We agreed you’d stay in the room, remember?” He asks. You glance at Sam before taking a step towards Dean.

“It’s just the coroner’s office,” you tell him, your voice soft and almost pleading. He looks up and you can see that he’s torn. Sam clears his throat from the other side of the room.

“You two go. I’ll see what I can dig up on the town,” he suggests. Dean shakes his head slightly and Sam laughs. “You know you can’t stop her.” You watch as something crosses Dean’s face briefly and for a moment you think he might lock you in the bathroom.

“99% of the time, nothing ever even happens at the coroner’s office, Dean,” you say. He lets out a small, sarcastic laugh and nods.

“It’s that 1% I’m worried about,” he says before sighing. He reaches into his bag and pulls a familiar fold of leather before tossing it to you. You catch it and raise an eyebrow at him. Unfolding the leather, you find the fake FBI badge of your favorite alias. “I know you better than you think I do,” Dean says, still riffling through his bag. A wide smile spreads across your face before you take the few steps towards Dean. You place a hesitant kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you tell him. His eyes meet yours and he smiles a small smile. Not long ago, you both would have taken the opportunity to steal a kiss, a quick nonverbal reminder of your love. Instead, you turn quickly, moving into the bathroom to get ready.

Within an hour, you and Dean are pulling up in front of the small police station. He parks the car outside and the two of you make your way to the door. You’re met by the stereotypical small-town sheriff, a rather large man, close to his retirement for sure. He looks the two of you over briefly.

“Feds?” He asks, crossing his arms. Simultaneously, you and Dean pull your badges from your pockets and flash them.

“I’m Agent Wayne. This is my partner, Agent Prince,” Dean introduces, gesturing towards you. The sheriff nods his head once in acknowledgment.

“Sheriff Donald Anderson. You lost?” He asks. Dean lets out a laugh and runs a hand over his jaw. You glance at him before smiling at Sheriff Anderson.

“We heard you had a few strange cases pop-up. Just wanted to see if we could help out any,” you interject, your voice sweet. Dean tenses up next to you, but you ignore him, continuing to smile at the sheriff as his eyes roam over you once more.

“Well…” He pauses, considering. “A few fresh eyes probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“Could we see the bodies?” You ask. He nods and offers to show you the way. Dean rolls his eyes once the old man turns his back and looks down at you. You smirk at him as you take a step to follow Anderson. “I don’t wear this skirt cause it’s comfortable, ya know,” you tell him in a hushed tone. His eyes run down your exposed legs and he smiles before following you.

Sheriff Anderson leads the two of you down to the basement while filling you in on the details of the case, most of which you already knew from reading the reports. Three dead Jane Doe’s all killed in the same fashion, throats slit and blood drained.

Stepping into the cooler room, you immediately notice a covered female body lying on the table. A young woman, petite and blond with striking green and blue streaks in her hair, is sitting at the desk in the corner.

“Kaylee, this is Agent Prince, and ugh…Agent…” Anderson trails off, looking at Dean.

“Wayne,” Dean tells him, forcing a smile. The sheriff nods and looks back over at the medical examiner.

“Right, right. Wayne. FBI. They’re here to look into the Jane Doe cases,” he tells her. The woman nods and begins to shuffle through some papers on her desk. Sheriff Anderson excuses himself as you and Dean make your way towards the table. Kaylee rises from her desk and comes over, three files in her hands. She hands them over to you and you set two aside, opening the first. Dean looks at Kaylee, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“No I.D.’s yet?” He asks. She shakes her head, pushing her hair back from her face.

“The investigators are looking into missing persons in the local towns but nothing’s turned up,” she tells him. You read over the description of wounds. No defensive marks. Single slice to the throat. Circular incision (?) in the abdomen.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing the incision comment out to her. She nods and reaches for the sheet, pulling it back. You frown as you take in the poor women’s neck before looking at her stomach. Just above her navel is a perfectly circular hole.

“All three have them,” she tells you both. You look at Dean and he merely shrugs, pulling his phone out to send a picture to Sam. You turn your attention back to the file and skim the rest of it quickly. Three words catch your attention. Fetus heart missing. The file nearly slips from your hand. Dean looks over at your sharp intake of breath.

“What?” He asks. You set the file down with the other three slowly, your hands trembling.

“She was pregnant?” You ask Kaylee. The coroner nods, a sad look in her eyes.

“They all were. And all three of the fetus’ hearts were missing. The police kept that from the newspaper. Thought it was a little too gruesome,” she explains. Dean holds an arm out, reaching to steady you as you take a step backwards.

“I – I’m gonna go call Sam,” you tell Dean, turning for the door quickly. “Get whatever else we need.” You push your way through the door and start up the stairs to the main floor of the building. Stopping about halfway up, you sit down. You squeeze your eyes closed and take a few deep breaths, trying to keep the walls from closing in on you. Your ears start to ring and it isn’t long before you’re sobbing for the second time that day.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs draws your attention. Through teary eyes, you can just make out Dean’s form as he takes a seat on the stairs next to you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side. Your head comes to rest on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you come,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. You shake your head slightly, unable to form any coherent words at the moment. “You wanna go back home?” Sitting up quickly to look at him, you shake your head again. He smiles gently and reaches up, wiping at your cheeks. “I can take you home then come back and help Sam finish the case up.” You swallow thickly and take a shaky breath.

“No. I – I want to stay and – and help,” you tell him. He nods and leans in, brushing his lips against your forehead gently.

“Then let’s get back to the room and see what Sam’s got,” he says. You nod and wipe the remnants of the tears from your cheek.

“Do I look like I’ve been crying?” You ask. He smiles and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. You let out laugh as you rise to your feet.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you tell him. He stands as well and takes your hand firmly in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m a professional liar. I’ve just never been able to lie to you,” he says. You manage another short laugh and look down at your hands as he pulls you the rest of the way up the stairs. Biting your lip, you carefully pull your hand out of his. He looks at you as you reach the door.

“Probably lose my pull with the sheriff if he sees us together,” you explain before slipping through the door. Dean sighs and shakes his head as he follows.

The two of you quickly get copies of the police reports before heading back to the motel, stopping at a diner to pick up some dinner. You unlock the door and push it open for Dean to go inside.

“Hey,” Sam says, glancing up at the two of you as walk in together. He’s sat at the table in the corner with his laptop and John’s journal open in front of him. Dean sets the bags on the table.

“Got anything?” Dean asks, pulling out two burgers. You take one of them before reaching into the other bag and getting Sam’s salad out. He smiles at you as he takes it and nods, switching screens on his laptop. He turns it around towards the two of you to reveal an ancient painting depicting a creature of some sort that was seemingly split in half.

“I think it might be a Manananggal,” he says. You and Dean both look at him, raising an eyebrow. “It’s kind of like a vampire from the Philippines.”

“Seriously?” Dean asks, pulling his suit coat off and tossing it onto a chair. Sam nods, spinning his laptop back around.

“Yea. Lore says that they look human but split in half. Their upper torso then flies with bat-like wings during the night to prey on victims. And they’re meal of choice?” Sam trails off, leaning back in his chair. Dean frowns.

“Let me guess…fetal hearts?” He asks. You sigh and sit in the chair across from him, kicking your heels off. Sam nods opening the lid on his salad.

“They apparently have these long, tube-like tongues that can suck them out,” he says. You frown and set your burger down on the table.

“There went my appetite,” you say. Dean smiles a little and pats your shoulder before leaning back against the window sill.

“What else?” He asks his brother. Sam shrugs slightly.

“Ugh, they typically prey on sleeping victims, which would explain the lack of defensive wounds. They do feed on blood as well,” he tells you both. You run your hands over your face.

“Does it say how we can kill it?” You ask. The younger Winchester nods, switching tabs on his laptop.

“It does, actually. Ummmm – the lower half is the more vulnerable one. It says sprinkling salt, garlic, or ash on the lower half can keep the upper half from reattaching and it would die in the sunlight,” he reads. Dean nods, taking a big bite of his burger.

“Sounds easy enough,” he says, his mouth full. You pick at the bun of your own burger, still looking at Sam.

“Now how do we find out who it is?” You ask. Sam’s face falls slightly.

“That’s where I’m stumped. It just says that they’re usually, and I quote, ‘scary, hideous, females’,” he says. You sigh and shake your head, picking up the file with the police reports in it.

“Well we have to find it. And figure out where it’s taking these women from. Three pregnant women up and disappear? Someone has to be looking for them,” you say, opening the file. Dean reaches over and takes the file from you.

“It’s late. You should eat and try to get some sleep,” he tells you. You frown at him. “Y/N, please.”

“I’m not hungry, Dean,” you assure him, reaching for the file again. He pulls it away quickly. “Dean.”

“This will still be here in the morning. We aren’t going to make any major breakthroughs tonight. It’s been a long day. It was a long car ride and then earlier at the coroner’s office. Plus, that dream you had,” he says. You shake your head again, rising to your feet quickly. “Where are you going?” He asks.

“To bed apparently,” you snap at him as you make your way across the room. Grabbing a pair of shorts and one of Dean’s old shirts from your bag, you turn and go into the bathroom. You look at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. You’d already cried off most of your makeup so you wash your face quickly with some warm water.

You begin to undress slowly, taking your time. You run a hand down your abdomen and over the scar across your stomach. The nurses had told you what products to apply to it to help it heal but you’d never used any of them. A part of you didn’t want it to heal, afraid you might forget if it did. You take a deep breath, determined not to cry again and slip into the clothes you’d brought in with you.

As you’re standing over the sink, putting some toothpaste onto your toothbrush, a wave of exhaustion rushes over you. The toothbrush falls from your hand as you brace yourself against the sink to keep from falling over. Your mind begins to fog over and you swear you can hear a baby crying. Shaking your head, you reach over and pull the bathroom door open before stepping back into the room. Dean looks over and rises to his feet before starting across the room towards you.

“Y/N,” he starts but you hold up a shaky hand, cutting him off.

“Did either of you hear a baby crying?” You ask, causing Dean to stop dead in his tracks. The two brothers exchange brief looks before Dean closes the distance between the two of you, taking your arms into his hands gently.

“You okay?” He asks. You look at him as the exhaustion slips up on you again and frown, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I – I think you were right. I – I must just be – be tired,” you tell him. He nods and slips an arm around your waist, carefully leading you to the bed. He helps you under the blanket as your eyelids quickly become too heavy to keep open any longer. The last thing you feel are his lips against your forehead as the baby’s cries begin to get louder and louder…

“Y/N, Ella’s awake,” you hear a man calling out to you. Ella’s awake. She’s crying. You rub at your eyes as you slowly sit up in the bed before looking at the baby monitor on the bedside table. The door to the master bathroom opens and Jackson steps out.

“It’s about time you woke up. She’s been crying for five minutes,” he says. You stare at him for a moment, trying to process everything. You were back in your bed. Your bed in your house. Not at the bunker. There is no bunker. There are no monsters. There’s just a beautiful house. A beautiful daughter. And a cheating husband.

Read Chapter 3 here.

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisyacsa @cutiesarah @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl l @kr804573

[luvgavii]

babysitting - (pg6)

request: it’s me again! hi, i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader’s little sister absolutely loves gavi (she’s like 6-7ish) and she has a lil crush on him (can’t blame her) and wants him to color with her and he watches movies with her!! ily 🫶

summary: you and gavi babysit your little sister while your parents are out of town. what you didn't expect was for her to take away your boyfriend.

You were an only child for 14 years of your life, so when your mom told you 6 years ago that she's pregnant, it was a big shock. But you loved your little sister, and even if you were already in college and living with your boyfriend, that didn't stop you from seeing her all the time, you and Gavi taking her out to get ice cream and having sleepovers with her as often as your schedule let you.

"Bebé, I got the guest room all set up for her." Gavi yelled from the living room, you were in the kitchen making some nuggets for you three to eat when she gets here.

You checked the time just as you heard a knock on your door, Gavi jumping up from the couch and following you to welcome the guests.

Opening the door, your parents and little sister, Ella, were standing there. As soon as Ella saw your boyfriend smiling down at her, she instantly jumped into his arms, even pushing you out of the way.

"Hola, guapa." Gavi said to her bending down and hugging her before picking her up in his arms.

You smiled at the interaction, giving Ella a few kisses to her chubby cheeks and stroking her gorgeous blonde hair.

"You wanna come in?" You asked your parents, your dad passing Gavi Ella's backpack.

"No, no. We should get going, we're late to the airport anyways. We will be back to pick her up at the end of the weekend." Your mom said playing with her coat.

"You two have fun in Italy, me and Pablo will take care of the little demon." You said to your mom with a little laugh, trying to cheer her up as you knew how nervous she was to leave Ella behind for so many days.

"I know, I know." Your mom sighed before hugging Ella who was still in your boyfriends arms. "If anything happens, please, call me. And I mean it Pablo, I know Y/N wouldn't call me so that she doesn't make me worry."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Y/L/N. I'll take care of my girls." Gavi reassured your mom, putting an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to his chest.

After more goodbyes, kisses and hugs, Ella and Gavi were playing with the dolls in the living room, while you searched for Ella's favorite cartoon in the TV.

"Are you sure it's on right now, El?" You asked her getting frustrated, you knew how impatient she could get after a while and a screaming kid was the last thing you needed right now.

But it wasn't the case for screaming, as Gavi was so good with her, he totally made sure her whole attention would be on them playing dolls. After 5 minutes, she forgot she even wanted to watch a cartoon, and instead, she was now showing you and Gavi her doll collection.

"Which doll is your favorite?" Gavi asked her, looking at her Disney Princess collection. He picked Sleeping Beauty up. "She looks just like you."

"Yes but she was saved by a prince. And I don't need a prince to be saved, I can save myself." Ella put a brave look on that made you and Gavi giggle.

"You taught her that, didn't you, amor?" Your boyfriend looked at you, knowing you would say something like that.

You just shrugged your shoulders "Gotta teach 'em young."

"Pabs, can we go to the park and get ice cream?" Ella asked your boyfriend with pleading eyes.

"But I made you nuggets." You said almost offended that your sister wasn't even willing to try your food.

"Pleaseee." Ella made puppy dog eyes at both you and Gavi, knowing how neither of you two could say no to anything she would want under that gaze.

"Fine. But don't stay out to long, you have homework to do." You said to Ella.

"Aren't you coming with us, mi amor?" Pablo asked you, almost sounding disappointed. He never told you, but it almost felt like Ella was your daughter whenever you were out with her, and he loved the idea of you two having your little mini me's in the future.

"I'll actually make some mashed potatoes to the nuggets while your out and then we can have that for dinner." You said giving Gavi a kiss to his lips, which he gladly returned.

An hour later, while you were vibing and dancing while cooking, you heard the door to your apartment open, meaning Gavi and your little sister returned. You could immediately hear Ella's little footsteps running towards the kitchen, giggling while Gavi was playfully chasing her.

When they entered the kitchen, you noticed some beautiful white tulips that Gavi was holding, a big smile on his face.

"Amor.." You said speechless, they were your favorite flowers.

"Me and El saw these on our way to the park, and they made us think of you, so we got them for you." He said passing you the flowers and giving a sweet kiss to your lips.

When it was time for Ella to do homework, Gavi sat with her at the kitchen table, helping her with in math and Spanish.

You were so grateful he was in your life, and you were so grateful he loved your sister as much as you, and she loved him just as much.

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikiad into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Nine-Unexpected Opertunity Part Two

Derek’s POV:

“This is so boring. Why are we even out here anyways? We can’t afford something like Mojalish.” I scoffed as I kicked a stone across the sidewalk.

“Yeah but it just felt like the thing to do.” Ella said as she slumped against the building. “I know we can’t afford it. I’m not an idiot like you.”

“Now guys just break it up. Even if we’re off school grounds we’ll get in trouble if we fight. RAD students' reputation and all that mumbo jumbo the student council spits out.” Selma rolled his eyes as he spoke.

(Trigger warning bullying and violence but the scum will get their just dues)

I looked at the front of Mojalish and my eyes widened. What in Devildom was the halfwit doing here? She was practically beaming. How dare she act so high and mighty shopping there? And on a school day no less! Sure we’re skipping too but we’re not the student council! “Yo check it over there.” I nodded my head in her direction.

“Ooooh!” Ella exclaimed excitedly. “This just got a lot less boring!”

Selma chuckled, wrapping his arm around Ella’s waist. “I call first dibs on insulting her babe. I’ve got some good ones I’ve been saving up for a rainy day.”

Ella pouted. “Derek, Selma went first last time!”

“Don’t tease my sister like that, Selma. Let her have her fun too.” Ella squealed and when (Y/N) saw us she ran up and grabbed her arm before she could leave.

“Hiya! Funny seeing one of you student council member out and about during school hours. I’m sure Lord Diavolo would love to hear about you neglecting your duties.” Me and Selma stood behind (Y/N) cornering her in laughing when she curled up a bit to seem smaller.

“Some higher demon you are. What are you again? Avatar of what?” Selma sneered as he spoke.

“I-I’m not a-an avatar. I’m j-just a Lady of D-Devildom.” The halfwit mumbled out stuttering as she shook a bit with fear. Seeing a demon that was supposedly a higher rank than us so terrified by us felt like a rush of power.

In the heat of the moment I shoved her hard against the wall making her land in a way that had her grasping her wrist crying in pain as she cried. “What kind of Lady isn’t even strong enough to fight us? Your just some joke that not even your own brothers want around!”

She held her hand shaking even harder now and did something she had never done before during our torment of her in the past. She opened her mouth and screamed, “Lucifer!” I laughed at her. As if he would show up. Everyone knows her brothers don’t do anything for her.

Ella’s eyes widened as she began backing away and trembling looking at something behind us. “H-how?!” She turned and ran. I felt something whoosh past me that was black and it slammed through her shoulder and stuck her against the wall. I looked at it in horror and realized it was a feather. And not just any feather, but a peacock feather.

I felt a hand grip my shoulder breaking it which made me scream. The pain was blinding but I heard Selma screaming as well clearly being hurt.

I blacked out from the pain as my head felt like it was spinning.

Lucifer’s POV:

Five minutes. I told her to wait outside for five minutes while I waited for the adjustments to be made to what we had purchased for her. Five whole minutes she was left alone. It was only five and she ended up hurt! Red filled my vision as I quickly drew one of my feathers stopping one of those scum from running off.

I then turned my attention to the other two subduing them quickly. I broke their bones one by one not caring when they passed out.

“That’s enough, Lucifer. They are no longer conscious enough to feel the pain you are inflicting. They’ll be held under the castle till preparations can be made.” I heard Lord Diavolo's command. I dropped them to the ground and knelt in front of my little sister who was crying and trembling.

“Come here Darling. Big brothers here.” I held my arms out to her and waoted for her acknowledging not wanting to scare her further.

“L-Lucifer!” She sobbed as she reached her not injured arm. “It hurts!” She sobbed as she held onto me tightly once I had her secure in my arms.

I stood up carrying her using my wings to shield her eyes from the gore I inflicted upon the worthless trash on the ground. I crooned to her soothingly as I walked her carefully to my car.

“We’re taking my car. It’s faster.” Lord Diavolo said as he opened the door for me to set her inside. I elected to keep her in my hold so I could make sure she didn’t jostle any injuries she had gotten.

“Understood, My Lord.” I nodded at him gratefully.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N).” Lord Diavolo stroked her hair delicately. “Those lowlifes will be begging for death, but it will be a respite they won’t be given.”

She just curled up against me still trembling as we all got settled in Lord Diavolo’s car. Barbatos pulled the hood up over the convertible while Lord Diavolo sat next to us in the back. Barbatos went to the front in order to drive us.

She must have been exhausted. By the time we reached the castle she was sound asleep. Being so scared and crying like that must have taken a lot out of her. I got out of Lord Diavolo’s car taking care not to wake her. Lord Diavolo gestured silently, guiding me to his quarters deep in the castle where the resident doctor was nearby. 

I put her down on a guest bed in one of the rooms nearby and sat by her side carefully. The head of the castle doctors entered quickly looking pale. “I was told there was an emergency.” He stated with a professional calmness. “Has the heir been harmed?” He was quick to glance over Lord Diavolo for any obvious injuries.

“Keep your voice down. The Lady is sleeping.” Barbatos was quick to scold the doctor. “Now Doctor Smith I’m sure you can be delicate with our Lady, can’t you?” The warning in Barbatos’s tone was clear and I agreed with his sentiments.

“If a single hair on my little sister's head is touched without permission I’ll rip your skull from your spine.” The doctor visibly flinched at my words and nodded quickly.

“Yes Lord Lucifer. I understand. May I approach the patient and check on her injuries?”

“Yes. You may.” I watched him carefully as he approached her and lifted her arms.

“At first glance she had a broken wrist, and bruising on her left side that likely is on her back as well. Did she get attacked by some sort of monster like Cerberus?” The doctor asked me after checking what he could of her injuries without waking her.

“No, some lower demons who don’t know their place hurt her.” I explained seething.

“Well that’s… odd.” The doctor murmured. All three of us glared at him intently.

“Odd how? Explain.” Lord Diavolo demanded.

“Perhaps we should go elsewhere while the nurses come in a wrap her injuries so that we don’t wake her. This discussion is likely to be quite… loud.” The doctor wrote down instructions for the nurses before we all headed to Lord Diavolo’s study to discuss her injuries.

The doctor wrung his hands nervously as we gazed at him from behind Lord Diavolo’s desk, me and Barbatos standing on either side of where Lord Diavolo was seated. “Well?” Barbatos spoke up coldly. “Explain yourself, Doctor Smith.”

“Her injuries are inconsistent with your account. She has a sprained foot, bruising, and even some cuts that look like they happened in self defense rather than an accident.” He explained trembling at our collective anger. “As a demon of her stature and standing she should be much stronger. Not much should be able to injure her. But she shows signs of…” He hesitated gazing at me.

“Signs of what?” Lord Diavolo demanded that he continue.

“Signs of long term neglect and long term abuse. Demons of her age should have enough of their family’s magic and care running through their body at this point to leave a clear declaration of whom they belong to in crest. But she matches that of a newborn who has yet to meet her family in terms of magic protection.” The doctor showed us comparison charts using a magical tool to demonstrate. “As such her growth is stunted and using magic should be painful, deadly even.”

“What…?” I felt dizzy. Had our ignoring her really do this much damage?

“There’s still a possibility of her healing, but it will be slow for her at the moment. It will take a whole week before she’ll be completely recovered.” He sighed. “The bullying must have been more severe than you originally expected.”

“It is. And it will not go unpunished. How do me and my brothers help her be protected? I am unfamiliar with this concept… Angels are raised rather differently.” I was a fool for ever thinking it was the same. I was a fool about all of this.

I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder. “It must still be hard for you after the fall, Lucifer. It was my negligence as the Young Masters butler for not realizing you wouldn’t know. I’ll show you how given that I do such a thing for the Young Master. I can do it for her as well. I do not mind it one bit.”

“Thank you. I would be grateful.” I nodded at him thankfully. I don’t know what I would do without help from my old friends.

“You are dismissed. Attend to any new and old injuries she has.” Lord Diavolo commanded the doctor whom left accordingly.

“Well. This was eventful.” Lord Diavolo grabbed a bottle of Demonous from his shelf behind his desk. He also grabbed a couple glasses after. “Let’s have a drink while we wait. We’ll contact RAD and have your brothers be notified about your family emergency and give them the option to come here.”

I bowed my head gracefully. “Thank you, Lord Diavolo.”

“Anytime for an old friend like you, Lucifer.” Lord Diavolo raised his glass. “To long friendships and thorny paths.”

“Salute.” Me and Barbatos said together as we all toasted.

Lucifer:

Affection: 57% (holy fudge are you sure you want to poke this bear any further?!)

“She's been hurting all this time. And none of us noticed. Any time she casted magic it could have killed her and yet she still bothered herself with RAD schoolwork. Me and my brothers will need to talk about this. An intervention may be necessary for her. One thing is clear, those demons aren’t dying till they beg for it.”

~Relation: Scary Dog Privileges for Life

~Danger Level-Yellow (Getting a little close to red there. Might wanna slow down like I told you to.)

Diavolo:

Affection: 51%

“She’s so brave for enduring for so long. I’ll kill those demons who hurt her. RAD security footage should be able to tell me all I need to know.”

~Relation: That oblivious fog is starting to blow away real quick.

~Danger: Yellow (girl slow the frick sticks down or else you're gonna be wearing a crown so flipping fast.)

Barbatos:

Affection: 52% (uh oh)

“This is an excellent opportunity just as I foresaw. Now I can claim her as family just like her brother will soon through magic. And the young master needs only a little bit more of a nudge before he experiences the sweetness of young love.” 

~Relation- Your Planned Future Father Figure In-law 

[quitealotofsodapop]

Me acorde de Book Acurate JTTW y me encanta que todos se preocupen de Book!Wukong cuando ella misma a seducido hombres para comerselos (creo que eso es canon en el libro) y ha hecho cosas espeluznante... Ambos son el uno para el otro <3

translated via google:

"I remembered Book Acurate JTTW and I love that everyone cares about Book!Wukong when she herself has seduced men to eat them (I think that's canon in the book) and has done creepy things… They are both perfect for each other <3"

There is a post that discusses the chapter where Wukong says that he's eaten people, and with details from other parts of the novel, he is 100% lying. He lies in the moment to try and convince Tripitaka to stay the hell away from the White Bone Demon - as she looks like a normal woman to the rest of the gang.

Wukong is distinct from Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing in that his "breath is sweet" - as eating humans makes one's breath smell terrible.

That or Wukong lured human bandits/monkey hunters on FFM to their deaths so that his Brotherhood friends that did eat humans could indulge themselves. It would be funny in the BookAccurate!Au if that was the case XD

(When the Pilgrims reunited after the White Bone Spirit incident) BookAccurate!Tripitaka: "I must ask.... were you lying about luring humans into a cave to eat them?" BookAccurate!SWK: "Of course! I'd never eat a human!" BookAccurate!Tripitaka: (*exhale of relief*) "I'm glad." BookAccurate!SWK: "Yeah, I can't eat human meat - too close to monkey. Bull and the Flood Dragon did though!" BookAccurate!Tripitaka, face pales: "Excuse me?" BookAccurate!SWK: "Yeah there was these hunters that sometimes tried to invade Flower Fruit Mountain to hunt my fellow monkeys. So I would turn myself into a pretty human lady and lead them towards Bull and Flood Dragon. They'd get eaten like handfuls of shrimp!" (*laugh!*) BookAccurate!Tripitaka: (*faints*) BookAccurate!SWK: "You ok Master?" :3

Zhu Bajie definetely laughs along with the monkey, that sounds hilarious to have seen!

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 5) Chapter Two

Father Figure! Lucifer x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Reader

Chapter Two: You Became an Idiot While in Hell

Summary: Chloe is on a strange case and has to face quite the unexpected face.

Mouse Note: Second official chapter! Sorry for the late post, I read JJK Chapter 2551 and couldn't process anything

            “Los Angeles,” breathed Lucifer. The last thing he had needed when acknowledging a new arrival in Hell, Lee, was a reminder of his old life on Earth. Of Chloe. Of (Y/N).

            His kid. The person he cared about more than any other, the one he’d returned to Hell to protect. The kid that would want him to help Lee’s murderer be brought to justice because (Y/N) was a good person.

            Lucifer couldn’t avoid the reminders of them and their heart. So he did the only thing he could. Lucifer turned to face Lee and squared his shoulders.

            “I’m going to do something I haven’t done in ages, for old time’s sake,” said Lucifer. “I’m going to solve your murder.” For (Y/N). Because it is the right thing to do, and that’s what they’d want.

            The only thing Lucifer wanted was to make his kid proud.

l

            Chloe’s case was not going well. Not only were there very few leads, but she had forced herself to dress up to investigate, and now, instead of really knowing what happened, another man was dead.

            “Well, no ID on your street kebab yet, but I found this on him, a .45,” said Ella. “Same as the one that killed Lee.”

            “Yep,” said Chloe.

            “And my Spidey-senses tell me this is our murder weapon, but I’ll know more when I get back to the lab,” said Ella.

            “Okay, great. Good,” said Chloe, walking away.

            She knelt over the body of the dead man and sighed. She needed answers, but so far, she had very few, and none of them seemed to lead her to the truth behind Lee’s death.

            “Agh!”

            The man’s dead body coughed, and Chloe jumped. He coughed up blood and sat up weakly, body still covered in lacerations and the literal embodiment of death.

            “Oh, man, I’m so sorry,” said the corpse(?). “That’s gross.” Chloe stared. “Hey, are you the detective? I’m a demon, and Lord Lucifer sent me to give you a message about the case.”

            “Lucifer.” Chloe’s eyes widened. “How is he?”

            “He’s the King of Hell, so he’s great,” said the demon. “But, uh, sometimes a bit…sad, I guess. Don’t tell him I said that. Anyways, he wanted me to tell you…uh, it’s safe where you stored it.”

            Chloe furrowed her brow. “What? What’s safe?”

            “The thing that you stored?” said the demon.

            “ ‘Stored?’ ” repeated Chloe. “Where?”

            “I don’t know, you’re the one who stored it,” said the demon.

            “Wait, I stored it?” said Chloe.

            “Yeah, it’s safe where you stored it.” The demon groaned. “Oh, crap. This body’s too jacked up to keep working. But you got this…And, uh, Lucifer says to say hi to ‘(Y/N).’ ” The body fell back, dead.

            “Wait, wait!” cried Chloe, but the corpse was a corpse once again.

            “Decker?” said Ella, approaching. “What the hell, did you move the body?”

            Chloe groaned. Now she just had more questions. And, what was worse, she had a message from Lucifer to (Y/N), but Chloe wasn’t sure if she should give it to them. After all, their mental health had already spiraled just from Lucifer’s leaving. She didn’t want to trigger anything worse by letting Lucifer saying “hello” without (Y/N) getting to see him return.

            She resigned herself to ask Linda for advice. After all, a therapist should know how to help (Y/N). Hopefully. Then again, (Y/N) wasn’t exactly human, so what did Chloe know? Or anyone.

            Other than Lucifer. He took care of them.

            Oh, god, Chloe was going to feel better no matter what she did. If she told (Y/N) Lucifer said “hi” but still wasn’t coming back, she risked them spiraling and growing angry. If she didn’t tell (Y/N) anything, she’d feel super guilty and risk their anger if they found out she hid something like this from them.

            Chloe was so screwed.

l

            “Hey, uh, Linda?” Chloe stepped into the therapist’s house.

            “Oh, hi, Chloe,” said Linda, smiling as she bounced Charlie in her arms. “Welcome in. I thought you and Maze were working on a case.”

            “We are,” said Chloe. “But, uh, something’s going on, and I wanted to talk to you about it…”

            “Is something wrong?” said Linda, frowning.

            “A demon paid me a visit,” said Chloe.

            Linda’s eyes widened. “What?” The last time demons had come to Earth, it had ended in kidnapping and near-death. “What’s going on?”

            “Lucifer sent me a message,” said Chloe.

            “Oh. Really?” Linda was surprised.

            “Yeah, it didn’t really make sense,” muttered Chloe. She shook her head. “But that’s not what I’m concerned about. I’m concerned about (Y/N). Lucifer wants me to say hello to them for him.”

            Linda pursed her lips. “And you don’t know whether or not to tell them.” Linda was a therapist; she knew what Chloe was concerned about.

            “What do you think?” said Chloe, furrowing her brow.

            “I think you shouldn’t tell them,” said Linda.

            “What if they find out I hid something and get angry?” said Chloe.

            “(Y/N) needs to move on from Lucifer leaving,” said Linda. “I know that hiding things might seem…counterintuitive, but they’re mourning. To be constantly reminded of Lucifer and told that he’s trying to speak to them but isn’t coming back could cause more harm. He isn’t coming back. (Y/N) needs to have time to wrestle with that and become accustomed to that fact.”

            Chloe nodded. Right. Lucifer wasn’t coming back. That was, unfortunately, a fact.

l

            Another unfortunate fact was that in the late night, Chloe found herself in a gunfight defending Meg, Lee’s sister.

            “Meg, listen to me,” said Chloe. “You can do this. We’re not gonna die her.” She steeled herself. She was going to face everything that came towards her. “Get ready.”

            Above them, several guns went off, and Chloe and Meg ducked down farther behind the kitchen island. The three men were still on the attack, and the pair were still in danger. The bullets ran out, and tense silence descended.

            A confident whistle broke the quiet, and everyone paused in confusion. A man walked into the kitchen, and the gunmen glared.

            “What the hell?” said Rod, the first.

            “Hello, bad guys!” chirped a voice that made Chloe’s heart skip a beat.

            Lucifer? No, Chloe had to be imagining it. He couldn’t be here, no matter how much she wanted him to be.

            “Who’s this crazy fool?!” said Rod.

            “I hope I’m not late to the party,” continued who Chloe hoped was Lucifer.

            Unable to keep herself from looking, Chloe peered around the corner. Her eyes widened. It was Lucifer. He was there. On earth. In the kitchen. Here when she was in danger!

            One of the men noticed her, aimed, and fired. She ducked back, but Lucifer already grabbed him and slammed him through the wall. The second man aimed at Lucifer, but Chloe interceded and shot him. Meg made a run for it while Lucifer grabbed the gun from Rod’s hands before he could harm anyone. He broke it between his hands, and Chloe knocked Rod out with the butt of her gun before he could do more.

            Silence.

            Chloe and Lucifer stared at one another. Lucifer smiled and took a step forward.

            “Thought you could use a hand, but…” Lucifer gestured to the amputated hand (another part of the mess Chloe had been dealing with). “Looks like someone beat me to it.”

            Chloe didn’t respond. All she could do was gaze at him. She could barely believe it. So, she did the one thing she could to convince herself Lucifer was real. She kissed him. Lucifer returned her act of affection, pulling her close.

            He’s real. He’s here.

l

            (Y/N) glared at the screen. “That’s bullshit! Just because it’s in black, that doesn’t mean the design is ‘chic!’ ”

            “Birdie, relax, it’s a TV show,” said Em.

            “But the judges are being stupid! They always say that colorful outfits are worse than all black!” said (Y/N), huffing.

            “This is Project Runway,” said Em.

            “So?”

            “I don’t think it’s that serious,” said Em.

            “Taste is important,” grumbled (Y/N).

            “I’m going to turn this off if you keep going crazy, Birdie,” said Em.

            “Fiiiiiine,” said (Y/N), slouching in their seat.

            The elevator dinged, and Em and (Y/N) exchanged glances. They hadn’t gotten texts from anyone saying they were coming over, and almost every time someone came over unannounced, it meant trouble.

            Em slid towards the table they kept a demon blade taped under, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, letting the shadows stir around their feet.

            The elevator doors slid open. A man stepped out. (Y/N)’s eyes widened.

            “Dad?”

            Lucifer stood in the Penthouse and smiled confidently at Em and (Y/N). “Hello!”

            “What-How—” Em stared.

            (Y/N) was frozen, eyes wide.

            “I’ve returned!” said Lucifer, grinning as if nothing was wrong, as if this wasn’t insane. “Well, it’s good to see nothing has changed around here.” He walked through the Penthouse, looking around in satisfaction.

            “…Is that all you have to say?”

            Em tensed as (Y/N) spoke. The shadows swirled around their feet, and their hands had curled into fists. The look in their eyes was dark and dangerous. Em saw it clearly; (Y/N) was furious.

            “Of course. I’m back, isn’t that what counts?” said Lucifer brightly.

            “No,” hissed (Y/N). “No, that isn’t! You left! You abandoned me! You said you wouldn’t, and you did!” They marched up to Lucifer, and the shadows behind them spread out, cloaking the room in darkness. “So you don’t get to just walk back in without an apology!”

            “(Y/N)—” began Lucifer.

            “What is wrong with you?” snapped (Y/N).

            “(Y/N), I’m here now,” said Lucifer. He reached out, and shadows leapt up to grab his arm as (Y/N) glared at him.

            “Yeah, you are. After abandoning me,” said (Y/N). “So it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than walking back into my life to make it up to me.”

            “What can I do? Give you money?” said Lucifer, smiling and raising his hands to show he was open to anything.

            (Y/N) scoffed. “That’s what you think I want? You became an idiot while in Hell. You should know that’s not what I care about.” They turned away and walked towards their room. “Just go away again. You didn’t care when you left, and you clearly don’t care now.”

            “(Y/N), I want to make it up to you. Just tell me how,” said Lucifer.

            “My dad knew what I would want,” said (Y/N). They glared at him in their doorway. “But he abandoned me. So fuck you.” They slammed the door.

            Silence, and Em’s brow creased in worry for (Y/N).

            “Well…that didn’t go as well as I’d planned,” said Lucifer.

            “…You should’ve known (Y/N) would react that way,” said Em, quietly. “Your leaving hurt them.”

            “I know,” said Lucifer, smiling. “But don’t worry, everyone will be alright. I’ll handle everything.”

            He walked away, and Em was left alone in the living room in the middle of the worst situation possible: a regressing Lucifer (in terms of relationships with others) and a pissed-off (Y/N).

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

[u2fangirlie-blog]

Good Omens Aziraphale's Sad Bastard Breakup Playlist

After the breakup, Aziraphale has a new job in heaven, having taken Gabriel’s vacant position. Aziraphale is haunted by sad music reminding him of his time with Crowley. The songs are dramatic, tragic, melancholic, angry, wistful, romantic, and sentimental. How does he listen to music at his new job in the head office? Are material objects allowed? Does he keep a secret stash of tea, cake, and records and a phonograph player in his office? Does he have a celestial radio that can tune in Earth radio stations? Does he sneak off to Earth to hang out in record shops and bookstores? Or more dramatically and emotionally torturously, does he remember every note, every nuance, every feeling, of every song and replay them in his mind? He's stuffing his face with angel food cake and tea while crying and listening to sad bastard songs and hiding from Michael and the Metatron.

See note after list on song selection process.

Songs include:

“Lacrimosa” – Mozart, Requiem in D Minor, Vienna Mozart Orchestra

“Commendatore” – Mozart, Don Giovanni, Amadeus film soundtrack

“Ja, tot katoramu vnimala” – Rubenstein, The Demon, Nicolai Ghiaurov

“D’amour l’ardente flemme” – Berlioz, The Damnation of Faust, Maria Callas

“Liebestod” – Wagner, Tristan and Isolde, Waltraud Meier

“Ach ich fuhls” – Mozart, The Magic Flute, Gundula Janowitz

“Thy hand, Belinda … When I am laid in earth” – Purcell, Dido and Aeneas, Janet Baker

“E lucevan la stelle” – Puccini, Tosca, Placido Domingo

“Celeste Aidia” – Verdi, Aida, Mario Lanza

“Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen” Mahler, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau

“Der Wanderer” – Schubert, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau

“Love is a Plaintive Song” – Gilbert and Sullivan, Patience, D’Oyly Carte Opera Company

“I am a Courtier Grave and Serious” – Gilbert and Sullivan, The Gondoliers, D’Oyly Carte Opera Company

“The Gentleman is a Dope” – Rodgers and Hammerstein, Allegro, Blossom Dearie

“A Hymn to Him” – Lerner and Lowe, My Fair Lady, Rex Harrison

“Could I Leave You?” – Sondheim, Follies, Alexis Smith

“We Do Not Belong Together” – Sondheim, Sunday in the Park with George, Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin

“On My Own” – Schonberg, Les Misérables, Frances Ruffelle

“As Long as He Needs Me” – Bert, Oliver, Judy Garland

 “Stranger in Paradise” – Wright and Forest, Kismet, Richard Kiley and Doretta Morrow

“A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” – Sherwin and Maschwitz, Vera Lynn

“Night and Day” – Porter, The Gay Divorcee, Ella Fitzgerald

“I’ve Got You Under My Skin” – Porter, Born to Dance, Shirley Bassey

“Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered” – Rodgers and Heart, Pal Joey, Sarah Vaughan

“They Can’t Take That Away From Me” – Gershwin, Shall We Dance, Fred Astaire

“Mon Deu” – Dumont and Vaucaire, Edith Piaf

“Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” – Dumont and Vaucaire, Edith Piaf

P.S.: Aziraphale likes Les Mis because it reminds him of that time Crowley rescued him from the Bastille. Don't tell anyone. It's a big secret.

P.P.S.: “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered” reminds him of the time he and Crowley got drunk in the backroom at the bookshop the day the anti-Christ was delivered to Earth. Basically, this song reminds him of every time they went out for drinks or stayed in and drank.

P.P.P.S.: “I am a Courtier Grave and Serious” was the song Aziraphale planned to play when trying to tempt Crowley into learning the gavotte. It reminds him of the ball in the bookstore when he finally danced with Crowley.

P.P.P.P.S.: “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” is as close as Aziraphale can get to telling the world and Crowley to eff off. He has no more effs to give. Or at least he’s trying to convince himself he no longer gives a f***. He’s going off to his new job at the head office and Do Good.

Note on song selection:

I selected songs that thematically fit with the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley. I think the songs tell a story of Aziraphale’s struggle to reconcile his conflicted motivations. They reflect Aziraphale’s fears and desires. He fears being hauled off to hell for disobedience. He fears Crowley’s death and being alone in the world. He desires to be emotionally intimate with Crowley. (Dare he risk physical intimacy with Crowley?) He feels self-righteously indignant, but he’s soft and squishy and weepy and misses his best friend.

I don’t have much knowledge of opera or musical theater, but I have some experience with choir and solo performance. I did a lot of research into opera, art songs, musicals, showtunes, and standards to create a playlist on YouTube. Selections were based on availability, popularity, and sound quality. My big question was whether or not Aziraphale is a strict originalist or if he likes different versions of songs. In some places, I chose newer versions over original versions due to the sound quality of the recordings. I tried to keep selections accessible to a wide audience with varying degrees of musical knowledge. You may not like my choices, so your mileage may vary. You can make your own playlist.

You can listen to it on YouTube.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Twenty Four.

Big thanks as ever to you all, the LOTD book club! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,268

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“Oi! Put it down!” 

“But dad I can use it as a lance!” 

“Nah, son. No improvising medieval weaponry. It’s too sharp, drop it.” 

“N’aww dad! You get to play with weapons!” 

“That’s for music videos and album art. Put the bloody massive stick down, Wolf.” 

“Alright. If I find one that isn’t sharp, can I play with that one?” 

Closing his eyes, Steve groaned, brows furrowing as his best mate hissed with laughter at his pain. “That boy’ll be the fucking death of me.” 

“Can I, dad?” 

“Fine, go on, find another,” he called, watching his son run off at the speed of light across the muddy terrain. “Anything to save my pissing ears for five fucking minutes!” he then added in quieter tones, James still laughing.  

They’d taken the kids out to Kinver Edge for the day, a woodland escarpment four miles west of Stourbridge. It was over an hour away from where they lived, but definitely worth the visit. It brought back many memories.  

“Freya,” James warned, his child now taking over in the picking up something she shouldn’t stakes. “Put the rock down.” 

“I can’t! Need it!” 

“What for? I don’t trust that you’re not about to dash it at your sister.” And for a three-year-old, she had one hell of a throwing arm.  

“Demons!” 

“Ain’t no demons up Kinver, baba. Put it down.” 

“There might be, daddy! Who can say!”  

He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “Well, if there is, you’re enough to see ‘em off all on your own, innit. You forget that you’re the chaos of the night, they don’t stand a chance.” 

The rock was dropped. “And I have the army of the dead!” 

“Yeah, you do!” he chuckled, Steve laughing at his side. 

“I love that kid to pieces, she’s such a riot.” he spoke, the pair watching as Freya pottered away over the mossier ground, Logan and Zara leading the pack in the distance along with Hugo and Otis, as well as Fenrir, Steve’s Northern Inuit dog. As soon as he’d seen them used as the dire wolves on Game of Thrones, he’d chewed Andrea’s ear off until she’d agreed they could get one.  

And James was stuck with French fuckery number one and number two. Because Ella had always wanted French bulldogs and he couldn’t say no.  

Continuing to walk, they navigated a path down to one of the draws of Kinver Edge, the famed and old red rock dwelling that apparently used to be inhabited by a herbalist until her death in 1617. Many folklore stories existed about the woman, most of which James and Steve had heard when visiting the place in their youth.  

“Ahh, the last time we were up here, sunshine. Getting stoned with them hot girls,” Steve began, the kids screaming with mirth on the other side of the rock formation, the dogs barking excitedly. “You over in that corner getting ridden by that bird you were seeing from... where was she from?” 

“Halesowen,” James confirmed, looking over, remembering his nineteen-year-old self, and the gorgeous twenty-year-old he’d been casually dating at the time.  

“And what was her name?” 

“Nicola.” 

Steve flicked his fingers, waving his hand in remembrance. “That’s it! That was her, and I was having a bit of her mate...” 

“Cerys.” 

“Yeah, her,” Steve grinned, remembering. “Oooh, that girl couldn’t half suck a dick. Telling ya. Quality blowjob skills, proper gorgeous an’ all. Fucking sky blue eyes and great big tits.” 

“Calm yourself,” James snorted, “but yeah, she was top grade sexy. Never told you this at the time, but after you and her stopped seeing each other, I was shagging her for a bit. She used to go up that rock club in Birmingham, XL’s. Gaz was seeing her best mate Nat, so yeah. Took me up there with him and it just happened one night. Broke the bed in Nat’s spare room giving her a damned good banging. Proper little wild thing, she was, innit?” 

Steve boomed with laughter at that revelation. “You fucking tart, Jim! Nabbing my leftovers, ya dickhead.” God, how they’d had some fun in their single years. “We were proper reprobates in our youth.” 

“Ain’t much fucking better now, man,” James chuckled, “just married ones with kids and mortgages and all that.” 

“Yeah, suppose you ain’t wrong there.” How different things were upon their return twenty-one years later. “Logan, don’t lick the rock, son.” 

“Why? Freya did!” 

“Freya, stop licking everything. It ain’t yours just because you lick it, we’ve talked about this,” James called, the tiny destroyer of worlds grinning at him, her mouth covered in red dust. And so, it continued... 

“Logan, mate, don’t pee off the side of the rock! There might be people walking below.” 

“Freya, don’t wipe snot on your sister.”  

“Wolf, that’s a branch. You’re not bringing a branch with you! Now look, the bloody dogs got in on it too! Fenrir, come back.” 

“Zara, don’t put mud on your face! No, it ain’t warpaint. Stop.”  

Steve was in hysterics at the last one, reaching for her as they caught up, dropping a kiss atop her head. “Something might’ve pooped in that, honey.” 

“Doesn’t smell bad, though,” she reasoned, giving him a quick hug before she was hurtling off again, threatening Wolf with a beating. 

“Yeah, you give him stacks, sweetheart,” Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “So how come big girl didn’t come along? She’s usually well up for this.” 

“Gone off swimming with her mates,” he revealed, unscrewing his water bottle and taking a few gulps. “That almost didn’t happen either, with the mouthful she was giving her mum this morning.”  

“Yeah? Guess I’ve got all this to come, but boys are easier. We just communicate in a series of grunts an’ all that.” 

“Yup, and girls screech, which was Lyra’s preferred communication at being told she wasn’t allowed to go to the cinema later. Like way later tonight. She knows she ain’t allowed out past eight, but nah. Really trying it on right now, so yeah, Ella is satan at the moment because she put her foot down and told her she’d be collected from Kitt’s at 6pm as arranged.” 

Steve clicked his tongue with a small grimace. “Nah, can’t be good, mate. Suppose it’s normal, though. Ain’t like we never challenged authority. Remember when we snuck out of your bedroom window and ended up in The Crown all night when we were fifteen?” 

Ahhh, the halcyon days of the nineties, where I.D’s weren’t checked if you looked eighteen, James and Steve looking much older than their years for both being tall and needing to shave from their early teens.  

“Fuck, yeah I do. Dad opening the back door and finding us on the shed roof pissed out of our heads, trying to climb back up to my room again! Sneaking us through the house so the duchess didn’t wake up. Man, if Lyra gets up to even half of what we used to, I’m gonna be going even more grey than I already am real fucking quickly, innit,” James laughed, remembering how cool his dad had been about it, wheeze laughing at the teenagers as they’d staggered around atop the shed. 

Their trip down memory lane was then disturbed by the demoness of darkness, shouting loudly. Freya did, after all, only have one volume. “Daddy! I’ve found a corpse!” 

James closed his eyes, wincing slightly. “I ain’t a religious man, but I pray when we get over there that it’s a bird or some kind of woodland animal, cos’ with her, you never know.” 

Steve hissed with laughter. “She’d not be scared, would she?” 

“Nah, she’d be there poking it with a stick screaming ‘why are you dead, though?’ and all that. She’s too much like me for her own good.” They caught up with the kids, seeing quickly that it was a dead and decaying badger, Steve moving quickly to grab Freya when she went to touch it. 

“Oi, no touching the cadaver, little destroyer of worlds,” he advised, holding her in his arms as she began to fiddle with his long, blonde hair. Gone were the days of dyeing it dark brown with his two bleached streaks at the front, Steve back to his natural colour, plus a few silvery grey strands he couldn’t be bothered to dye. Unlike James, who dyed his every three weeks to keep them at bay.  

“Uncle Steve, can I have piggy back?” 

He nodded, pointing a finger. “Yeah, but no kicking me, right?” 

A kiss to his cheek was delivered, Freya beginning to scramble around to his back with his help. “Promise no kicks!” A further three kilometres were walked that afternoon, returning to the carpark and going their separate ways. Ten minutes into the journey home and James had two sleeping children in the back of his truck, the dogs settled in the front passenger footwell also nodding off. Long walks were a sure-fire way to exhaust those with abundant energy, that was for certain. 

They arrived home at just gone six, Ella obviously out fetching their eldest. He couldn’t see anything obviously set out for dinner, deciding to order pizza in for everyone instead after quickly calling his wife to check. She thanked him endlessly, telling him they’d be back in ten minutes. He noticed she sounded a little terse on the phone, swiftly finding out why that was when she and Lyra entered the house not long after, the latter causing a fuss.  

“Zara, take your sister to the den, go on,” James spoke, jerking his head in the direction, not wanting them to have to suffer what would likely be a full-scale attitude fit. “I’ll call you when the food arrives.” 

His second eldest nodded, picking up Freya and heading out. Five seconds passed before the kitchen door flew open, the harbinger of said attitude stomping in. “Dad! Tell her she isn’t fair, because I cannot with her. I really can’t!” 

“Is this about the cinema again?” he asked, leaning against the dishwasher and folding his arms, turning to give Ella a kiss. God, she looked tense. He envisaged she would need a large drink and a shoulder rub later that night, both of which he’d happily provide.  

“It isn’t fair! Kitt is allowed out until ten, so why can’t I be?” 

“Kitt’s a little bit older than you. Once you’re thirteen we can talk again about how late you’re allowed out, but while you’re twelve, eight o’ clock is late enough,” he explained, being met by further exasperation. 

“You’re only saying that to side with her!” she raged, gesturing towards Ella as she took a seat at the island, combing her fingers through her hair a few times with a sigh. 

“I’m saying it because it’s a rule we set as your parents, and what we say goes.” 

A loud huff filled the air, Ella chipping in to try and deescalate the situation. “Kitt also has Danielle with him, so he’s only allowed out late because of that, since she can take them both home afterwards,” she reminded her, speaking of Kitt’s elder sister, who was seventeen and had her driving license as of a few months before. 

“She could have brought me home, too! Or one of you could have picked me up!” she screamed, James frowning. 

“Lower your voice, Lyra,” he warned, watching his daughter stomp to the fridge, pulling a carton of juice out aggressively. “She couldn’t have brought you home because it meant you being out past your curfew, and that ain’t happening. Same with us picking you up. Plus, even if the time wasn’t an issue, I’m knackered and so is your mum. We drive you guys around for this and that all week. Now, be bloody told.” 

“You dad is right, love,” Ella spoke, receiving a thunderous look, “and you know you had to be in at six tonight because you’ve got homework to do, which you really should be making a start on now instead of arguing with us.” 

“I fucking hate you!” 

Oh, now she’d done it. “Oi, less of that. You ain’t getting away with swearing at your mum like that. Room. Now.” 

“But dad, I...” 

“Lyra, get upstairs. Now. I ain’t joking.” 

Grabbing her juice, she flounced from the kitchen, slamming the door so hard the glass pane rattled, James moving to behind his wife to begin kneading her shoulders. “Fancy letting those magical hands wander lower, baby?” 

He laughed dirtily. “Yeah, and I’ll follow ‘em with my mouth later on, too.” 

Tilting her head back, she kissed the side of his neck, leaning against his chest when he wrapped two massive arms around her. “I approve of this.” 

“Thought you might,” he winked. “So, good day apart from big girl being a beast?” 

“Yeah, it was great,” she replied, heaving herself up and reaching for the bottle of Merlot over on the other counter, pulling two glassed from the tall, slim cupboard beside it. “I got all the house clean, laundry caught up on, then had that one session that I needed to rebook because of my dentist trip on Thursday. I even had a nap in the bath. Woke up all bleedin’ crinkly like E.T! How about you?” 

He took the glass of wine she passed him, moving to sit down at the island next to her. Sitting felt good after an eight-kilometre walk. Their dogs agreed, neither of the potatoes moving from their spot on the rug in the lounge, where they’d flopped down as soon as they’d arrived home.  

“Yeah, had a right top grade time, with Freya being Freya. She found a bloody dead badger and didn’t even flinch. Then on the way back, she went headfirst into a massive puddle. Got most of it cleaned off her but she’s gonna need flinging into the bath.” 

Flung she was after they’d all sat down to eat together, minus a moody Lyra, who Ella had taken a plate up to and received nothing in response. Once the youngest two were bath fresh and in bed, their parents happily sank down onto the sofa to watch a film, choosing Goodfellas, one of James’s favourites.  

“Oh, can I watch this with you?” Lyra spoke, entering during the first ten minutes of the film. It was nice to hear her a little more cheerful, but then again, they could both guess it was only because she wanted something. 

“Hmm, no, sweetheart. It’s got a bit too much questionable content for a twelve-year old,” Ella spoke, after thinking on it for a few moments. She didn’t want to be overly strict a mother, but with the foul language – much worse than anything James came out with in front of the kids – and the murder, plus drug use, she didn’t feel it appropriate. 

“But you let me watch Guy Richie films and they’re full of the same!” she had argued back at her, as Ella knew she would. 

“Yes, but they’re not quite as graphically depicted.”  

A large huff left her mouth. “Treating me like a child.” 

“Newsflash, Lyra. You are one,” James offered, starting to feel his patience wearing a little thin. If Ella was being in any way unreasonable, he might understand the hostility, but in truth, she wasn’t. 

“You know what, dad? You used to be so much cooler, like even a few weeks ago but now you just take her side all the time! Tired of it!” Oh, god. Not round two. 

James merely shook his head, sighing hard through his nose. “And we’re tired of you being a drama queen over the slightest thing. Ain’t exactly like you’ve had a stifled upbringing is it, Lyra? You’ve spent virtually every summer since you were born at music festivals, we’re way more relaxed with things than our parents used to be with us, but nah. That ain’t enough, is it? Really getting tired of your shit, kid. The way you speak to your mum especially.” 

Leaving for the kitchen, her mouth threw back some further attitude. “Moody old bastard.” 

“Woah, no, no,” Ella spoke, pressing a hand to his chest and pushing him down when he went to jump off the sofa. If James was pushed too far, he had the tendency as ever to run his mouth, and loudly. Him and Lyra were entirely too similar in that respect, and it was the last thing she wanted to see happen. “Let me go, calm down.”  

She rubbed his chest fondly, leaning to kiss him before getting up, entering the kitchen. 

“What now?” Lyra snapped, Ella closing the door after her and pointing at the island. 

“Sit down.” 

“Don’t want to.” 

Her jaw tightened, eyes rounding. “I said sit down. Now.” Ella didn’t raise her voice a single octave, but the look on her face made Lyra understand loud and clear that she meant business, the girl moving to a seat, her mum standing adjacent. “Look, what you’re doing right now, all this gobbing off and pushing back against us, or rather me more often than not, I get it. You’re a teenager, it goes with the territory,” she began, Lyra rolling her eyes. 

“Here we go. Therapy bullshit,” she scoffed, Ella closing her eyes and counting to five. 

“It isn’t. This is me telling you I understand the mood swings, the challenging us. I wasn’t born at thirty-nine, Lyra. I was twelve once too, you know, and I was a gobby little cow to your nanny April as well. You need to stop throwing my job in my face at me when what I’m doing is no different to any other mother concerned for her child. And yes, you are a child still.” 

Her words were met with a sniff on nonchalance, Lyra beginning to pick at the ends of her hair as her mum continued. “Listen, you know your dad and I have been quite relaxed as far as parents go, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any rules. Life doesn’t work like that. It’d be nice if it did. I’d definitely like to tell the council to piss off on occasion with how much they bleedin’ rinse me for tax every year.” 

Despite herself, Lyra snorted, not quite able to bite back her little burst of laughter. “Suppose.” 

“If you met us halfway, too, we might be a bit more lenient with you, but as it stands, I don’t think we’re being too firm.” 

She continued the hair picking, her moment of being entertained over as the smirk returned. “Could have done that tonight and let me stay out, but no.”  

It was like running in circles, it truly was. “I’ve said all I need to on that front. Just try to meet us halfway, alright?” 

“Yeah,” she hummed, “whatever, mum.” It was a little less frosty than before, but her face said it all. While Lyra returned upstairs to head to bed, Ella collapsed onto the sofa, burying her head in James’s lap. 

“While you’re down there, little.” Emerging, she saw him wink, his grin widening considerably. “What?” 

“Dirty boy. But I will, don’t you worry. I need a damned good shagging to unwind a bit.” she spoke, turning over and stroking his thigh while continuing to watch the film. By the time they headed to bed, another few glasses of wine drunk, sleeping definitely was not on the agenda.  

In times of parenting hardship, they always had one another to fall back on. Or in that particular instance, fall onto a bed with. 

[tumbling-through-deepspace]

The Hunter, a baby and the unexpected forming of family in unlikely places: Chapter Five

Chapter Summary: Everyone, old and new wants a piece of Lyssa.

AN: The song in this chapter is called Promises by Savage Garden. This chapter should have been finished and uploaded on Sunday, but I have a terrible cold that has knocked me on my ass. I didn't get to write all I wanted for this chapter, so it's a bit short. I'll be writing more next chapter. Hopefully I'll be fully recovered by this weekend.

Word Count: 1384 words

Eventual Relationships: Xavier/MC/Rafayel

Zayne/Sylus/Lyssa

Chapter Five: There's a time to play the king and a time to be a thief

The transition from Linkon city to where they are now was smooth and Lyssa was grateful. Growing up after the introduction to Wanderers fourteen years ago, instability wasn’t something she liked. So, being able to provide that to someone else, gave her a warm sense of accomplishment.

Ella loved the bungalow, especially the garden. The pair spent most of their time outdoors; the birds adored the chick, and the feeling of peace was riveting.

However, why for the past few days, did she feel like she was being watched? It wasn’t the presence of a human nor was it a wanderer; there was also no malice or negative aura in the air— no, it was just something there that came and went at any moment.

Others would be nervous or concerned but she wasn’t. When they decide to stop hiding, then she would deal with it. What was important was little Ella not being in any danger.

The little girl was more expressive and outgoing in the new environment. She was babbling more, crawling around a lot and overall happy. Lyssa tried not to make her mind wonder what her daughter’s earlier introduction to life was.

“No sweetheart, that’s not for your mouth.”

She quickly but carefully took a wooden spoon from her hand and replaced it with a teething ring. Ella gave the ring one look and chucked it away, giving Lyssa the most annoyed expression a 5-month-old could make.

The hunter had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing “I’m sorry but that is not for your mouth. That is what the teething ring is for.”

Little Ella gives a shout followed by heated babbling. Lyssa raised a brow “I think it is too early for you to be arguing with me young lady.”

This prompted another shout, hands flaring around and finally a full-blown tantrum. Sighing, Lyssa sat up gently picking up the screaming chick and started humming.

“I know honey but it’s not baby friendly. I know, how about I sing you a song. It’s a classic and a personal favorite of mine.”

Little Ella heard the word singing and stopped her screaming for a few seconds before starting again.

Well don't you know I need a little indulgence? Listen to the hunter becoming hunted Every day there's a million advances Don't be too forceful you'll ruin your chances

Big tear-filled eyes looked up at her mama, the screaming decreasing line by line.

Well don't you know that time is a broken glass That splinters against the wall? But the picture is coming back now, baby And I want to take it all

Lyssa started swaying lightly, patting Ella’s back to the beat of the song

Don't go making all these promises you know you cannot keep There's a time to play the king and a time to be a thief 'Cause if you're making all these promises you know you cannot keep You know time will be the thief and your fallen king will end up alone

At this point, the little one had calmed down and started babbling. Lyssa smiled and stopped singing.

“There we go, pretty girl. Much better. Let’s go inside and I’ll make you a bottle then read a book.”

Jasmin sat at her desk putting the finishing touches on her report. The past few days have been hectic between missions, planning to enter the N109 zone and dealing with her own demons.

Her eyes glanced over to the adjacent desk that was empty, and she couldn’t stop the frown that formed on her face.

Not having Lyssa around felt weird; the two may not be partners but the woman was a constant presence with her sarcastic way of speaking and dark humor. It baffled her when Captain Jenna announced to the team that Lyssa was on a disclosed assignment that would have her away from the Association for a while.

She had so many questions but wasn’t able to get any answers. Next, she thought about Zayne, her childhood friend who didn’t want to admit he had a crush on the woman and was disappointed when he returned to her apartment to find out she was no longer there. The man sulked for a week because of it.

Her phone was still switched off, so there was no way anyone could get a hold of her. Jasmin sighed, leaning back in her chair. The whole situation left her confused.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Looking up she made eye contact with her field partner and friend Xavier. Now this was another individual who had her mind asking a ton of questions with no answers in sight.

Xavier was an enigma, and Jasmin was slowly learning to leave some things be especially when it comes to him. It prevented a ton of headaches.

“Hey Xavier. Oh, nothing is wrong per say. I was just thinking about Lyssa that’s all.”

“That’s the girl that occupies that empty desk, right? Is she alright? Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“I can assume she’s okay. Right, you weren’t here for the announcement… Lyssa was assigned to an assignment that will have her away from the Association for quite some time.”

Xavier studied her for a bit “I’m sensing it's something more than that?”

She nodded “My gut tells me that it is, but I don’t know how to find out more without raising suspicion. It’s not normal for Lyssa to just vanish like that.”

“I won’t mind helping you find out where she went.”

Jasmin blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the offer “You won’t mind? I know you’re busy most days, I wouldn’t want to impose on your time.”

“It’s alright, I would not have offered if I didn’t intend to help.”

“Thank you, Xavier.”

A young woman entered Asko Hospital; a smile planted on her face as she greeted the nurse at the station, whose name was Yvonne based on her badge. The nurse quickly checked and confirmed her appointment and directed her to the Doctor’s office.

Humming as she walked down the hallways, thinking of the reaction she would get for the shit she was about to pull. Mischief was such a delicious pastime.

The Doctor’s office came into view, and she rapped on the door. A voice called out to enter which she did.

The sight of the doctor sitting at his desk made her bite the side of her cheek to stop the feral grin from coming on her face.

“Hello Dr. Zayne, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Yes, very nice indeed.

A mechanical crow sat perched on a metal stand, brooding and ignoring its person.

A man with red eyes sat behind his desk observing the bird. Ever since they returned from a mission weeks ago, the crow was in a mood.

What was puzzling about the situation was the presence of foreign Evol still present in the bird's body.

“Mephisto.”

The crow in question, gave a side eye and continued ignoring the man.

“You have been in this mood for far longer than the norm. What aren’t you telling me?”

Mephisto wasn’t in the mood to share. The human woman he crashed into was a puzzle to him. She understood what he was saying and only one person should have been able to do that.

Then there was the feeling of her Evol. It was warm, inviting and it sung. Shouldn’t it be impossible for two Evols to coexist together? He had two flowing through him right now and nothing negative has come from it.

It was also interesting watching the human woman. Recently having discovered that she had a chick; a small thing that made a lot of strange noises yet the interactions between the two was entertaining.

Then there was the singing. It always did something to him. His gaze returned to the man at the desk. Would his human find this woman to be a threat? The thought made him angry. Why?

“What has you angry now?”

Not giving an answer, Mephisto teleported outside completely missing the perplexed expression of the man.

Turning toward the East, the crow took flight. This woman was a shiny new thing, and he had no intention of letting anyone else get her.

Additional notes:

Mephisto is very intelligent and despite being a mechanical bird, has quite the personality. I find it intriguing that he has a temper and that he is able to communicate with Sylus. That is why I am taking creative liberties and giving him moments where we get glimpses to his thoughts.

[this-acuteneurosis]

I kind of want to get you started on mind tricks. cause like weak minded to strong minded dynamic and the blur away, but also the sith back in the day were for SURE a Caste system of force sensitive rulers and non force sensitives, and the jedi were their ENEMY off and on for thousands of years, cultural bleed through and dynamics of their own power systems but Ben we are not the droids you are looking for go away so I dont have to kill you, versus Qui hey I want this thing trade it for me.

Alright, Oct anon, it's been a while, but I have not forgotten you definitely forgot this ask in my drafts for who even knows how many months but it's found again, whoo!

It's taken me a while to get this together partly to try and arrange my thoughts in a logical order but also...

Guys, I really, really care about the use of agency in stories. Like, I've ranted about it in relation to droids, I've explained some of my problems with it in the context of the thematic changes between the OT and the PT, I stew over it constantly in my brain, it's a central theme of many of my own stories (including DLB).

I really don't like mind control, and not just in Star Wars.

Now, just because I don't like a thing doesn't mean it doesn't have a place in story telling. As a device, mind control/manipulation can be useful or important to a plot. To a theme. Overcoming it can be powerful or cool (Ella Enchanted-I prefer the novel personally, Tanjiro in Demon Slayer: Mugen Train), watching someone succumb to it can be agonizing (Frodo in Return of the King, anyone? Princess Euphemia in Code Geass?).

So, what is the point of Mind Tricks (and that naming choice, "trick," making it sound almost...harmless) in the Star Wars story, and maybe in the universe?

I feel like in its initial reveal, the mind trick was supposed to a) convey how "magical" Jedi were and b) get the plot from point A to B. Obi-Wan waves his hand, someone believes something hideously untrue, move along move along, don't think about it too hard.

Like, literally, audience, please. Don't.

Luke uses it in RotJ for pretty much the same reason. To convery a) Luke is well on his way to being a "magical" Jedi now (oh but wait, there's more character growth he needs!), and b) Luke needs to get into Jabba's palace and why would they let him in? Because he says so, so we will take him to Jabba now. Move along, move along.

I don't like the implications of this power existing, and as an adult who has been in situation where I have to report to higher powers, the disregard of the consequences of these things are a bit darker if I look too closely, but like...move along, I guess. It's fine as long as we're only using these powers on space nazis and slavers. Right?

Except then we get more movies. And cartoons. It's fine if Obi-Wan mind controls a person into not smoking, right? Smoking is Bad and Obi-Wan is Good.

Only.

Only...

Who taught Obi-Wan to use mind tricks?

Ah yes, my old nemesis.

To all you Qui-Gon fans out there, you may wanna leave. This analysis is probably not for you.

So like, Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon "I'm friends with the current Chancellor and thus an obvious, notable representative of the Jedi Order but I don't get along with my higher ups" Jinn. The thing you have to understand about my opinion of him is that, as a young, first time watcher of TPM, I liked him. He was funny, irreverent, direct. He was wise, or at least seemed to know things no one else did. He was a maverick, ready to go against all orders and advice for what he knew was right. And everyone around him was just stuffy and uninformed.

And to be fair, he wasn't wrong about everything. He's set up to be sympathetic. He's trying to treat with the gungans and they won't listen? Well he and Obi-Wan are right, the Trade Federation does go for the gungans. The Order says there are no Sith? Oops, wrong on that one. The Council makes the ambiguous assertion Anakin is "too old" to train. We've seen the OT. We know "too old" is nonsense.

But like, what does Qui-Gon do when he's thwarted?

He takes away people's agency.

Oh, you don't want to help us, Boss Nass, political leader? Cool, well I'm gonna undermine you in front of your entire court and you're gonna give us a whole ship (that we won't return) to help us defend a people you've been in an active war with for centuries. Oh, my currency doesn't work on this planet? I think it will mister small time junk dealer with a gambling problem (jokes on you for that one, sir).

This to me is a huge red flag in a story that is about literal slaves. I know people will defend the above examples. It was necessary. There were lives at stake.

You wanna know who would have suffered if Qui-Gon had been able to con Watto out of that part?

Anakin and Shmi.

Worthless (or event mostly worthless) currency on a planet where you have to buy water is literal death under the right circumstances. And who do you think Watto's going to reduce rations on. He's got cash flow problems? What's the quickest way for him to make back what he just lost? I'll give you a hint, he gambles on them later in the exact same movie.

So like, well before we get to "weak minded" or anything dubious like that, there's this awkward question of, "Why are the good guys always using powers to make people do things? And not worried about the consequences?"

And like, if we go back to simple story narratives, and trying to move things from point A to point B, that's fine I guess. I enjoy the OT. I'll move along.

But if you ask me to stop and think about it.

Well...

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 9

Today's theme is Record.

And I decided to have some gay time with Malice and the Prophetess.

==========================================

"Alice, I really do have work I need to be doing-" Cordelia began as Alice dragged her down the hallway toward the Archives.

"And it will still be there after this," Alice cut her off, never breaking her stride. "You need to take a break, darling. You've been running yourself ragged."

Cordelia frowned slightly, considering Alice's words. Then, she smiled and let out a laugh. "I guess you're right."

Alice's heart fluttered at Cordelia's laugh and she quickly turned away. "In any case," she said. "I think you'll want to see this."

"Oh really?" Cordelia let out another giggle. "Well, consider me intrigued."

Alice couldn't help but smile to herself as she led Cordelia into the Archives. She hardly ever got to see Cordelia anymore. Cordelia was always so busy with taking care of the Lost Ones and the Ink Demon and looking for a way out. Alice missed when she could spend time with Cordelia, just the two of them. However, she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy watching Cordelia take control and direct the denizens of the studio. She did love a woman in power.

"Just sit down here," Alice said, directing Cordelia to sit down at the table. "I'll go get it."

With Cordelia settled, Alice darted out of the central area, beginning to search the bookshelves. She'd hidden the record in one of the books to keep Sammy or one of the Lost Ones from finding it and showing it to Cordelia first. She had wanted to be the one to show the record to Cordelia.

"Ah! Found it!" Alice exclaimed, pulling out the right book to reveal the record sleeve. She hurried back to the central area where Cordelia was waiting, presenting the record.

"Oh, it's a record!" Cordelia said brightly, although her expression was one of polite confusion.

"It's a new record," Alice corrected. "One you haven't heard before."

To demonstrate, she removed the record from its sleeve, placing it on the phonograph and lowering the needle. For a moment, there was just static. Then the sound of music filled the air, along with a familiar singing voice.

"Ella Fitzgerald!" Cordelia exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she clapped her hands together. "Oh, Alice! It's wonderful!"

Alice giggled shyly, her stomach feeling a bit fluttery at the praise. "I thought you'd like it," she mumbled, brushing some hair behind her ear.

"I do! I love it!" Cordelia jumped to her feet, taking Alice by the hands. "Dance with me, Alice!"

Alice smiled softly, allowing Cordelia to lead her in a dance. In moments like this, she could almost see the girl Cordelia had once been. Since becoming the Prophetess, Cordelia's features had become sharper and more severe, but in moments like this, they seemed to soften. Cordelia almost looked like the young woman Susie had met when she'd first started at the studio. Her smile was so bright and her laugh so clear and joyful. Alice felt warm basking in Cordelia's happiness. It was like she was finally seeing the sun again after so many years in the dark.

"I can't remember the last time I danced like this," Cordelia remarked as the two of them twirled around the room.

"Neither can I," Alice agreed with a laugh. "I think most people around here have two left feet. They don't exactly make good dance partners."

"Well." Cordelia moved closer so that she and Alice were chest to chest. "It's a good thing I have you then, isn't it?" Her voice dipped lower, her features growing sharper once more as Alice was reminded that Cordelia was currently taller than her.

"I... Uh..." Alice's mouth felt dry as stumbled a bit, nearly falling.

Cordelia caught her, though, pressing Alice against her with one hand in the small of Alice's back.

"Ah, careful!" She said, smiling down at Alice. "Wouldn't want you to fall!"

"Uh... Right..." Alice mumbled, unable to tear her eyes away from Cordelia's face.

"I would suggest we waltz," Cordelia said, not making any move to shift their positions. "But I think this song's a bit too upbeat for that."

"Uh-huh." Alice nodded.

Cordelia almost looked like an angel like this. The way the light formed a halo around her head and her veil fluttered around her. She looked... holy.

Cordelia smiled softly, reaching up to cradle Alice's face with one hand, rubbing her thumb over Alice's cheek.

"Thank you, Alice," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I needed this."

"You're, uh, you're welcome," Alice replied, managing a shaky smile. "I thought you deserved a break. You've been so busy."

"I have," Cordelia sighed. She disentangled herself from Alice, something that made Alice whimper a bit in disappointment, turning toward the statue of Bendy. "I'm happy to be helping everyone, but it can be so exhausting."

"You're doing a wonderful job," Alice said quickly.

Cordelia turned her gaze back to Alice, her smile widening slightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Cordelia turned her attention to the phonograph, breezing past Alice to turn it off. "I should be getting back to work now. But I'd love to dance with you again another time."

"I'd... like that," Alice said, trying to hide her disappointment. Was it really over so soon? It felt like she'd barely gotten any time with Cordelia.

"Don't worry," Cordelia assured her, clearly picking up on Alice's disappointment. "We'll spend time again together soon, my angel." She pressed a kiss to Alice's forehead and then she was gone, breezing out the door.

Alice stood there for a long time, reveling in that last moment. In the feeling of Cordelia's lips on her forehead. She hoped their next dance would be soon.

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 12 - Crescendo

Crescendo (noun) 1. Climax: a gradual increase 2. Music: Increasing intensity of a musical passage

Tags & Warnings: Depictions of Abusive Behavior, Blood When you see this symbol ♫ I recommend you to listen to the song "The nearness of you" by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

Speak of the devil, and he will appear. And he did, in the worst possible moment of your afterlife.

With your hand between your legs and his name on your lips. Even trough the haze of the ebbing orgasm, you had seen and heard everything. Your copy, the one that tempted you to act on your lingering urges and guided you to chase your high, had finally broken free. Had faced a very unhinged Alastor, barely keeping his form from changing into the lanky, distorted radio demon sinners only dared to hush about. Had lead him to you, unable to move, to touch you. Had dissipated into stardust, leaving you alone with him and his blackened dial eyes fixated on you. For the first time since dying, you wished he could kill you again right now to escape this feeling of embarrassment and horror. How could you even start to explain your way out? 'Please accept my apology for rubbing one in while fantasizing about you, owner of my soul?'

What a fucking disappointment you were. How undisciplined, vulgar, classless.

“A-Alastor... I'm sorry... I didn't... “, you started to ramble without even knowing how you would end the sentence, trying to regain some distance and decency by pushing yourself away from his looming body, reaching for the edge of the duvet to cover your bare legs.

You gasped once more, this time in surprise, as Alastor grabbed the wrist of your still sticky hand, yanking you back and caging your head in the pillows, his grin inches from your own horrified expression. His breathing was heavy, and you could see his tongue wet his lips as he pressed you deeper into the mattress, his static infiltrating your ears.

As far as this could have gone bad... this was definitely getting worse.

With another guttural growl, the first noise he made since he entered your room, and a firm grip on your wrist he traced your curves with his other hand, his cold palm brushing your uncovered waist and down to your thigh with an unnatural hum. You inevitably arched under his touch, choking on your breath in a mixture of wild confusion and morbid desire. This was bad, how far was he gone? He adjusted his posture, settling himself above you, his head burrowed in the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply, his antlers grew and ripped the sheets and pillows with each drawn breath as if he was getting drunk on your scent. Black tendrils sprouted from his back and encircled him and you, moving like snakes ready to strike. You felt wetness on your neck – he was drooling, mouth open and his razor sharp teeth grazing on your clavicle, right where your scar was. As if about bite and open this part of you once again. It seemed all reason was gone from him and only animal left, something that frightened you beyond anything.

His grip suddenly became painful, his claws dug into your thigh, slowly ripping cuts into your legs. You hiss through your teeth at the sharp pain, trying to think of a way to stop him from completely loosing it. Behind him you spotted a shadow unlike the others that swirled frantically through the room. It stretched out it's arms, trying to grab Alastor and pull him away from you. Ozul. He was trying to help you. But even though his futile efforts, nothing the little shade did seemed to be able to stop him. This was all your fault. If you hadn't let yourself get lured in by your own goddamn carnal urges... if you just had used self-restraint and discipline, or simply went to bed... this wouldn't have happened, he wouldn't have lost control of himself...

"Sir... A-Alastor, please... Look at me...”, you pressed through your clenched jaws, calling out with pleading voice, attempting to gently touch his shoulder and get his attention. To make the man within the demon listen.

With slow motions, he turned his face back up, his blackened eyes dark and glowing red dials shining from within. You met them with your own, softly coaxing, pleading. The tension was rising, the air thick with white noise and static cracks, you felt like this moment could burst at the slightest movement. Even Ozul had stopped in his movements, and flickered nervously, his cyan maw open.

"Please... This is not who you are."

His head snapped to yours with a sickening crack, but his grip on your wrist slightly lessened. You hesitated to move, but decided to slowly, carefully, move your free hand up to his face, barely touching his cheek.

"You are a man of control.", you whisper with a trembling voice, "A gentleman... of finesse and discretion. And now it is time for you to regain that."

Finally, a low rumble rose from his throat. His eyes didn't move, but the black faded into dark burgundy, his antlers gradually shrunk back and his limbs shortened.

"You're in control, of yourself... and me. I'm sorry... please.. forgive me."

The black tendrils that had encircled you and the static, previously filling your mind - almost blinding you, receded with one final crackle and fizzled out. The radio demons form went back to his usual body proportions. But his gaze remained on you.

He didn't answer you. Slowly, with shaking breath, you tried to lift yourself off to the headboard of the bed to sit, and to your relief, Alastor let go of you enough to do so. His stare was no less intimidating though, and for a long, horrible moment, he still didn't move. The silence was worse than any harsh, harsh words he might have used to speak. You bowed your head, waiting for the inevitable scolding. “We... need a new sheet for the bed, don't we, kitten? Wouldn't want you catching a cold tonight. I'll have to fetch a replacement. And after that, we will talk."

And with that, he melted down into black smoke and was gone.

Control. He was about to loose control. He felt like he couldn't breathe. This energy had been filling him to the point of overflowing. Alastor re-materialized in the outskirts of his territory, bordering the doomsday district. He needed to slaughter something, someone, the more the better. And this place was always full of loitering, reckless little newborn scum who foolishly fought for scraps of territory. He had seldom felt like this, felt like he was so full of power it pained him.

He let his firm grip on his everyday form slip with a relieved, maniacal laugh and decapitated the first few sinners in his way with ease. His movements felt faster, his strikes more impactfull, his magic more centered. Fleeing demons and imps were smote in a heartbeat, with little to no effort. A bulky ox sinner with a rocket launcher and a death wish fired an explosive that hit him right in his chest – it didn't even rip a seam off his overcoat. In quick succession Alastor sent two shadowy spears right through its skull and stomach. With another hysterical laugh he called forth two huge muscular eldritch tendrils and mowed down an oncoming cluster of hell hounds like flies, their howls of pain and demise music to his ears, blood splattering and dripping from the remains of the ruins typical for this part of his territory.

His little gem had given him an addictive amount of power. If this was what he got after barely claiming her...

But as sudden and hard as the sweet rush came, it ebbed again. With a hoarse gasp, Alastor crashed to his knees in the midst of a mountain of broken bones and shredded meat, the energy dissolved and took this maddening ecstasy with it. Rising to his feet, the laughter of insanity vanished, leaving only a wry, depleted grin on his face. His antlers retracted back to their usual, decent size, and his arms went limp by his side.

His mind cleared again, and he stood in the carnage he created, replaying what lead to it in the first place.

His kitten, legs spread and drenched with a slick mixture of her own climax. Glassy, rose-tinted hands pulling his closer to gray skin. The smell of blood from the scrapes and holes his claws dug into silky thighs. Eyes, two luminescent golden suns, shining at him with utter desperation. The last remnants of that other her disappearing into glimmering dust. "Please... This is not who you are." A breathless voice pleading for needless forgiveness. The warmth of a gentle palm on his cheek, fingertips brushing his face and coming to rest by his jaw. "You are a man of control. A gentleman..."

A gentleman. That's what his mother raised him to be. That's what he had been, in life as well as in death. Until ten minutes ago? Five? Without the blinding euphoria of finally interacting with one of (Y/n)'s glistening copies and the sudden power surge that resulted from this encounter, Alastor found himself... shocked. By his own reaction, his own loss of control, and frankly, even ashamed of the sheer, shameless behavior he displayed.

“I'm sorry... please.. forgive me."

And still, she faulted herself, ever the loyal, devoted servant. His smile felt painfully tense at that thought. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his monocle, whipping the gore and ashes off his coat and straightened himself.

An explanation was in order, apparently, as well as a new sheet.

You tore another piece of string from the frayed cut of your duvet. Since Alastor left, you hadn't dared to move away, but to release the growing aching tension of your inner turmoil your fingers had started to pull on the loose fibers that protruded from the ripped fabric. As long as your fingers moved, you didn't have to think. As long as you didn't think, you could stay calm. So your hand continued. Pull. Tug. Tear. Twist. Spin.

By now, the small pile next to you was more threads than cover. What would Niffty say, the morning after, about all the cleanup there would be? Had Angel heard any of the commotion and would he question you about it in the morning? Would you even live to see the morning?

Twist. Turn. Tug.

It's fine, really. Nothing has really happened after all... just a minor... screw-up. Really, was it such a big deal? Just a normal evening, in which you realized you'd developed an impossible yet very real crush on your 'employer', the goddamn radio demon, owner of your soul, and acted on it and got caught red-handed.

Snap.

You paused for a second, weighing your words in your head, then sighed with an almost tortured sound. Okay, maybe it was kind of a big deal.

Static crackled loudly in your room and before your mind could properly process the presence, he appeared right before the bed. Your hands didn't dare move, a red piece of string still wrapped around your ring finger.

His unreadable gaze shot through you. While you would've loved to run and lock yourself in your bathroom (like a foolish, petulant child) to avoid the ensuing confrontation, you knew there was no escaping it. After what felt like an eternity, he shook his head and sat down at the edge of the bed. The duvet shuffled lightly under the pressure of his weight on it. The longer the silence stretched on, the heavier you felt. You tried to form a coherent sentence, something to say to explain yourself when he finally spoke.

"I believe", Alastor's voice, clear and without the distortion or static from before, finally filled the deafening silence that had hovered over you, "I owe you an apology, my dear."

You blinked at him owlishly. You blinked again. What?

"I fear that in this, ah... heated situation... that I went a bit astray.", he drawled in a controlled tone, tilting his head. His eyes stuck for a few seconds to the cuts on your legs, his smile twitched, then he caught your gaze.

"My judgment and actions were clouded by the unexpected flow of your -admittedly impressive- energy and because of it I mistreated you in a way you didn't deserve."

You couldn't help but shake your head. This was just too absurd. You were supposed to apologize, not him.

"Uh, no... sir, Alastor, this was, I- I overstepped. It was my fault. So you have nothing to apologize for", you started, picking your words carefully.

"Your dedication is something that has always pleased me.", his tongue clicked. "But you seem to be laboring under a misconception."

Another shake of your head. You couldn't comprehend what was happening. "No, I really-"

"Kitten. Listen to me.", his stern voice rang clearly. "I am not above my own set standards. I overstepped them, and it would be disingenuous to pretend otherwise. I have neither the desire nor the intent to."

That cut off your excuses rather abruptly. The humility of his approach confused you, a demon in a position of immeasurable strength and infamy. The very one who owned you, who you so willingly promised loyalty to. And instead of punishing you, berating you for your lack of self-control and subtlety, he was the one who apologized. You felt your heart skip, and cursed internally at that reaction. You startled when his arm reached out to you, his sharp fingertips hovering over the freshly scabbed lines. Alastor watched you carefully.

“Does it hurt?” You shook you head, mumbling, “Not anymore. It's nothing...” He inspected the little craters with narrowed eyes, a lingering expression of faint distaste on his face. Without a comment, he flicked his wrist and the wounds were enveloped in his creeping shadows. It was a soothing, warm sensation, as if your legs were tenderly wiped with warm, soft towels, and when they dissipated, the cuts were gone. He hummed quietly at the result.

“Alastor?”, you asked quietly, tugging on the red string on your finger. “What did you mean by.. flow of my energy?” He tilted his head, his expression as if he was contemplating his answer.

“Let's discuss that another time, little gem. For now, rest and recover. The evening has been far more eventful than we both anticipated.” He snapped, changing the ripped fabrics into new, intact ones. The pile of strings and fuzz disappeared, except for the one you had wrapped around your digit. You felt... confused. Glad, in a way, that he wasn't angry. That he didn't discarded you as a failure. That he still allowed you to stay. And yet, you felt a little lost. The thought of him leaving this room and therefore bringing back the deafening silence in which the voices in your head had too much to say... leaving too much space tonight to miss him...

You pulled the string until you felt the mere hint of pain. You had to ask. You had to be brave, just once more.

"Sir?"

He turned, an eyebrow raised.

"Alastor... Could I... Would you... stay? Until I'm asleep?", the words came out in a rough whisper. His expression was a mixture of surprise and perplexity, and the moment dragged on without a reaction. You felt your ears heat up in embarrassment and were about to take it back when he suddenly chuckled, shaking his head. He stood up, but instead of turning to the door he settled himself down in your wingback chair, summoning a book into his hands while a quiet, soft melody emitted from nowhere. ♫It's not the pale moon that excites me That thrills and delights me Oh no It's just the nearness of you It isn't your sweet conversation That brings this sensation Oh no It's just the nearness of you♫

He opened it, leaning back into the plush cushions and crossed his legs. You stared at him, even though you hoped he'd stay, you didn't actually believe he would. He glanced at you through lidded eyes, a smirk adorning his lips.

"What are you waiting for, little gem? Close your pretty eyes and let the sandman do his job."

You nodded slowly, feeling a warmth spread in your chest, and nestled yourself under the covers of the newly changed sheets. You turned on your side, choosing to face the demon instead of hiding away. You pulled your legs to your chest and, hidden by the thick duvet, caressed the red yarn that still sat snuggly wrapped around your finger.

♫When you're in my arms And I feel you so close to me All my wildest dreams Came true I need no soft lights to enchant me If you would only grant me the right♫

With a last glance at Alastor and a smile on your lips, you closed your eyes. Quickly, the music was fading away as you let slumber embrace you. Had sleep not claimed you so quickly, maybe you would've seen Alastor's eyes in the gloomy light, studying your face instead of the pages of his book.

♫To hold you ever so tight And to feel in the night the nearness of you♫

<< Previous Chapter - Next Chapter >>

[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️

MASTERPOST

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

🎙️Good evening, my dear listeners, and welcome to a story woven from the musical notes of desire and darkness. Ah, but what is love at first sight without a touch of madness, hmm? For the next three nights, our line up of songs will weave a mid-century romance laced with beauty and blood. And the latter, well... it’s oh-so-sweet. Fear not, my darlings, for even death cannot part us. So sit back, relax, and allow me to guide you through this deliciously twisted affair ... until the devil’s last dance. 🎙️

Notes:

Heya! This is a three part series. Each chapter features a song from the 30s through the 60s (mostly). It gets dark, it gets twisty, it gets bloody. And it stays high heat.

Under the cut is the chapter list for each of the three parts, which are song titles (and I'll try to link each post as they happen...eventually XD

Content Warnings include:

Explicit consensual sexual content, violence, murder, omegaverse culture, eventual serial killer Alastor, purity culture, feminine rage, misconceptions about sex/sexual anatomy, attempted assault, revenge killing, oppressive culture, sexually repressive culture,

and more.

Part 1 ~ 'Til There Was You ~

🎙️ Our tale begins with a a chance meeting, gazes connecting across a crowded room—that will change everything.

For you see, dear listeners, love at first sight isn’t always kind, is it? No, it has a way of sneaking up on you, wrapping itself around your heart like a vice, and squeezing the very life from you—or someone else.

And so, our story begins, with two souls who never knew what they were missing... ‘til there was you.🎙️

The Way You Look Tonight - Frank Sinatra (1964)

That Old Black Magic - Glenn Miller (1943)

Sway - Dean Martin (1954)

Fascination - Nat King Cole (1958)

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered - Ella Fitzgerald (1956)

Strangers in the Night - Frank Sinatra (1966)

A Kiss to Build a Dream On - Louis Armstrong (1951)

Let's Face the Music and Dance - Nat King Cole (1961)

Only You - The Platters (1955)

You Send Me - Sam Cooke (1957)

Midnight, the Stars and You - Ray Noble (1934)

I Can't Give You Anything But Love - Billie Holiday (1944)

I Wanna Be Loved By You - Marilyn Monroe (1959)

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) - Nancy Sinatra (1966)

I Want to Be Evil - Eartha Kitt (1953)

You Were Meant for Me - Gene Kelly (Singin’ in the Rain) (1952)

Part 2 ~ The House of the Rising Sun ~

🎙️The sun rises, and so do our demons, my dear listeners. As the cover night falls away, we find ourselves in a house filled with secrets and shadows, where love twists and turns in the most unexpected ways.

Power corrupts, violence seduces, and the light-bringer can only hold back the darkness for so long. In this house, you will find no sanctuary—only temptation and the steep price you pay in the morning. 

Welcome back to New Orleans, where an old face returns with a smile…and a knife behind his back.🎙️

I Put a Spell on You - Nina Simone (1965)

You Don’t Own Me - Lesley Gore (1963)

Cry Me a River - Julie London (1955)

Angel Eyes - Frank Sinatra (1958)

Fools Rush In (Where Angels Fear to Tread) - Frank Sinatra (1940)

Love Me or Leave Me - Nina Simone (1958)

I’m Gonna Live Till I Die - Frank Sinatra (1955)

Black Coffee - Sarah Vaughan (1949)

Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera) - Doris Day (1956)

Fever - Peggy Lee (1958)

Ain’t That a Kick in the Head - Dean Martin (1960)

All the Way - Frank Sinatra (1957)

These Boots Are Made for Walkin' - Nancy Sinatra (1966)

Feeling Good - Nina Simone (1965)

Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin (1959)

Suspicious Minds - Elvis Presley (1969)

Body and Soul - Tony Bennett and Amy Winehouse (original 1930, Bennett/Winehouse 2011)

When I Fall in Love - Doris Day (1952)

Dream a Little Dream of Me - Ella Fitzgerald (1950)

Beyond the Sea - Bobby Darin (1959)

Part 3 ~ (You're The) Devil in Disguise~

🎙️Ah, my dear listeners, we’ve come so far, haven’t we. Love, Death, life after? 

But, as with all great tales, things are not always as they seem. Deception lurks in the hearts of many, sometimes hidden even from themselves. But fear not, for even in the depths of Hell, love has a curious way of surviving.

 Through fire and shadow, through lies and revelation, something beautiful can rise from the ashes. So as we step into this final act, remember—there’s always hope, even when you’re dancing with the devil in disguise.🎙️

1. Unchained Melody - The Righteous Brothers (1965)

2. At Last - Etta James (1960)

3. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes - The Platters (1958)

4. Bad Moon Rising - Creedence Clearwater Revival (1969)

5. I’ll Never Smile Again - Tommy Dorsey (1940)

6. Poison Ivy - The Coasters (1959)

7. Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood - The Animals (1965)

8. Pennies from Heaven - Billie Holiday (1936)

9. My Way - Frank Sinatra (1969)

10. Devil or Angel - The Clovers (1956)

11. Since I Fell for You - Lenny Welch (1963)

12. I’m a Fool to Want You - Frank Sinatra (1951)

13. Beggin - The Four Seasons (1967)

14. Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash (1963)

15. Secret Love - Doris Day (1953)

16. In The Mood - The Andrews Sisters (1939)

17. As Time Goes By - Dooley Wilson (1942)

18. Paint It, Black - The Rolling Stones (1966)

19. Ain’t No Mountain High Enough - Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell (1967)

20. Can’t Help Falling in Love - Elvis Presley (1961)

21. I Want to Hold Your Hand - The Beatles (1963)

22. Stand by Me - Ben E. King (1961)

23. [big ass spoiler]

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

[homesickwhispers]

showtime. (chapter 12.)

wordcount: 3K 🤍

chapter plot: as Catfish prepares for their second show, Ella and Van are barely talking to eachother, and the tensions are starting to grow higher and higher with the presence of a new someone.

chapter song: is it over now? - taylor swift.

“You okay?” Jamie’s voice cut through the cool air as he stepped outside the bus.

“Yeah, just needed some air,” I mutter, trying to keep the frustration from showing.

“I know what you mean. No one wants to stay inside hearing… all that.”

I glance at him, my silence deliberate. If he thought he could bait me into talking about Van, he was wrong.

Jamie shifts, leaning against the wall, and his tone softens. “Do you remember your first week here, Ella? Do you remember what I told you?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

“This is exactly what I meant… about Van,” he continues, his voice low. “Why would he bring that blonde demon out here if not to mess with your head? You know he’s my guy, but I pity any girl who loves him.”

“I don’t love him,” I snap, my words sharper than intended.

Jamie raises an eyebrow, his gaze steady. “D’ya even believe yourself right now?”

The silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken truths. Finally, Jamie sighs. “Look, I can’t lie—I was kind of hoping you two would get together. Maybe it’d stop him from messing around with people like her and settle down with someone who actually gives a damn. You know, someone decent. I know I was hard on you at first, but you’ve turned out fine, Ella. Better than most of us, actually.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, glancing away, not sure what else to say.

Jamie watches me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “I see the way he looks at you. The way he talks about you. But Van... he’s a mess. A good friend, sure, but still a mess.”

I swallow, keeping my voice steady. “Why would you even want us together, Jamie? As far as I remember you told me to just focus on my work.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, it’s not like you’ve taken my advice all that seriously, have you?”

“How can you say that?” I counter, my frustration bubbling up. “Of course, I did. I begged him to leave me alone. That’s why he brought her here. I pushed him away and he reacted.“

Jamie looks at me with a sad look. “And how’s that working out for you? You’re miserable, Ella. You care about him more than you let on. You push him to be better, and he needs someone like that in his life.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Well, I hope his new girl can do that for him. I’m done. I just want to do my job and keep my head down. It’s like he needs to have someone on his side all the time. He barely got done with me, and now she is out here, making herself at home. How am I supposed to believe anything he says?

Jamie leans in slightly, his voice lowering. “Come on, Gonzales. I know you’re pissed, we all are, no one here likes her.. But you can’t just bury this. I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think no one’s watching. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you—like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. He’s a mess and this Meredith chick is just making things worse.”

I feel a sharp pang in my chest, but I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter, Jamie. He needs to deal with his shit alone.”

“And you really think that’s what you want? To watch him drift further away, to keep pretending you don’t care?”

I bite my lip, looking away as the weight of his words settles in. The truth of it stings, but I push it down, not willing to admit it yet. “I have to. It’s what’s best—for both of us.”

Jamie sighs, his gaze softening as he watches me. “You’ve always been strong, Ella. But don’t forget that sometimes being strong means letting yourself feel something too.”

“I appreciate you talking to me, Jamie. I really do. But I won’t discuss this anymore.”

“As you please,” Jamie said, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Just trying to look out for you, lass.” I nodded as he left, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. I had to shake this off; we still had a show today.

As I made my way to the stage, helping Larry with the instruments, he noticed my expression. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah..I don’t know why people are worried about me. This has always been my face,” I said, forcing a laugh that felt hollow.

“No, it hasn’t. You look… I don’t know, your eyes look sad.”

“Oh, yeah, I just couldn’t sleep well yesterday,” I replied, trying to brush it off.

My hands brushed against Van’s guitar as I tuned it, and a shiver ran down my spine. The warmth of the instrument felt almost like a connection, each string vibrating with energy that echoed my own swirling emotions. It was a strange mix of anxiety and longing, and I fought to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Is it in tune?” Larry asked, breaking the silence.

“Almost,” I replied, focusing on the last string, but my voice trembled slightly. I finished tuning and glanced up to meet his gaze. “There. Good to go.”

“Thanks,” he said, with a smile. “Ella…You know you can talk to me, right? Is something happening?” He pushed, concern etching deeper lines on his face.

But before I could respond, I heard Jamie calling my name. “Gonzales, can you come here for a second?”

I turned to face him, but my heart stopped when I saw Van next to him, his expression tense and unreadable. “What’s up, Jamie?”

“Do your trick again, girl. Van’s gear is being a bitch,” he said.

I nodded and reached for the pack from Van’s hands, acutely aware of the tension in the air. His eyes were locked on me, making it hard to mask my nervousness.

“Van,” Meredith said, pushing me out of the way and making me drop the gear on the floor.

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered, frustration boiling beneath the surface.

Jamie held my arm, collecting the gear again as if silently urging me to keep my cool.

Van didn’t say anything; he just shrugged, and I tried to focus on resetting his pack, my fingers trembling slightly as I worked. The electric charge in the air felt heavy, and I could sense the unspoken tension between us. It was a reminder that things had changed, and I wasn’t sure how to navigate this new reality.

As Meredith kissed Van’s neck with those forced sloppy sounds, I fought to keep my expression neutral, forcing my muscles to relax despite the turmoil inside me.

“Try it,” I said, avoiding eye contact with Van, who was clearly distracted.

“Yeah, it’s working,” he replied, his voice sounding distant.

I glanced at Jamie, who nodded at me. “Thanks, lass. Can you grab his guitar too?”

My face practically screamed, “Seriously?” but Jamie remained silent. With a resigned sigh, I reached for Van’s guitar, our movements stiff as we carefully avoided touching each other.

“Play it, Van,” Jamie instructed.

“It’s all good, mate. I said it.” Van repeated, adjusting his in-ears as if to shut out everything around him.

“Just checking...Thank you, Gonzales. You can go back now,” Jamie said, dismissing me.

I nodded, retreating to the side of the stage. From my vantage point, I caught sight of Van and Meredith sharing a kiss just before he stepped onto the stage, and then she began striding toward me.

No fucking way.

As Van took the stage, Meredith lingered right next to me, her gaze fixed on him.

“He’s just too good, isn’t he?” she remarked, a smug smile on her face.

“The whole band’s nice,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.

She laughed lightly, a sound that felt more like a taunt. “I suppose, but we both know who you’re really looking at, sweet Ella.” She reached up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear before pulling my in-ear monitor out.

“What the—”

“Listen to me,” she said, locking eyes with me.

“I don’t know what the hell you and Van had, but you better keep yourself collected.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I shot back, bewildered.

“I see you, Ella. You think you don’t catch his attention, right? That you’re just so different, shy, and calm…That he’s gonna come crawling to you. Archie told me all about you.”

“Of course he did,” I snapped.

“Yeah, of course he did. He knows you’re a total weirdo. You better keep your distance.”

“I’m not here to argue, Meredith.”

“But I am here to make you listen. Stay out of me and Van’s way, are we clear?”

“No need to ask twice,” I replied, pulling away from her grip and moving to the back of the stage, my heart racing with a mix of anger and disbelief.

If Van and Meredith wanted to cut me out, then fine.

They could have that.

I was gonna dissapear from their vision, just like they wanted me to.

(Van’s POV.)

I lounged on the couch after the show, my shirt unbuttoned, a cigarette dangling from my lips, while Meredith, clad only in her laced bra, leaned back with a smirk that suggested she was enjoying her view.

The air was thick with tension and smoke, and I could tell no one from the band dared to approach us—Meredith’s outrageousness had that effect. And I wasn’t exactly on my best behavior either.

Meredith was far from being my favorite person. But deep down, I knew she was the best one to have around when I needed to get a reaction from someone. I knew whenever I’d call, she would answer, and that was exactly what I needed.

The sex was almost irritating at this point. I could see she enjoyed the thrill of being seen with me more than anything else.

Her hands, adorned with acrylic nails, wandered over my chest, teasing my belt, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of boredom as I watched her do her little show for the millionth time.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.

I used all the force in my body to suppress an eye roll. “Just whatever you feel like, Mer.”

I leaned back, trying to play it cool, but my mind was elsewhere.

I hadn’t seen Ella for a single moment after she adjusted my gear before the show.

I could tell her brief encounter with Meredith made her uncomfortable, even when she tried her best to act normal.

What the fuck am I even thinking right now?

Meredith is sitting on my lap, her eyes searching for mine, and all I can think about is how I kissed Ella’s neck on that same spot. The same spot she told me to leave her for good.

I shifted under Meredith’s weight, exhaling smoke, trying to push Ella out of my head.

I wasn’t supposed to feel this conflicted. This was supposed to make things easier. Meredith was supposed to be a distraction, but instead, everything felt off.

The way she clung to me, her fingers tracing the outline of my belt, felt almost ridiculous. There was no warmth in her touch, no connection, just… emptiness.

Suddenly, Larry’s figure loomed over us. He cleared his throat loudly, breaking the silence like a hammer through glass.

I barely looked up, blowing out a lazy stream of smoke. “Can I help you, mate?” I asked, my tone edging on annoyance.

Larry stood there, unfazed by the mess in front of him. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice calm but firm, like he’d been waiting for this moment.

“What are you talking about?” I shot back, flicking the ash off my cigarette with a careless flick of my wrist. “We’re in the middle of something here.” I gestured toward Meredith, who was half-naked, watching the interaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the tension.

Larry didn’t back down. “Yeah, well, I think you need to get your head out of your ass and talk,” he said, a bite in his tone now.

I leaned back, rolling my eyes, trying to keep my cool. “I’m busy,” I muttered, holding Meredith’s thighs, but I could feel the unease creeping up on me. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have.

Meredith shifted on my lap, clearly amused. “Whatever it is, you can say it in front of me,” she chimed in, her voice dripping with arrogance.

Larry ignored her, his eyes still locked on mine. “I don’t think I want that.”

I clenched my jaw, irritation bubbling under my skin. “Can you fuck off for a bit, mate?” I shot back, my grip tightening on Meredith’s leg like she was some kind of shield.

But Larry didn’t flinch. His gaze held steady, cutting through the bullshit. “Nah, not this time. We’re talking. Now.”

I let out a long exhale, dragging the cigarette down to its last ember, feeling the sting of his words. Larry wasn’t going to drop this, and frankly, I didn’t have the energy to argue.

Meredith shifted again, clearly bored with the sudden change in attention. “Come on, babe, he’s just trying to stir the pot,” she muttered, her fingers playing with my hair, but her voice sounded distant, like static in the background.

Larry’s eyes flicked to her for the briefest moment before locking back onto me. His patience was running thin, I could feel it. “She doesn’t need to be here for this, Van,” he said, his tone harsher now.

I stubbed the cigarette out on the armrest, the sharp smell of burnt fabric mixing with the smoke in the air. Meredith shot me a glare but didn’t protest when I nudged her off my lap.

“Give us a minute,” I said, not looking at her.

“Really?” She stood, scoffing in disbelief, folding her arms across her chest. “Whatever.” She grabbed her shirt, slipping it over her head in a huff, but I didn’t stop her as she stormed off toward the back of the bus.

Once she was gone, the air felt heavier, like a storm about to break. I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees, staring at the floor.

“You happy now?” I muttered, but there was no real bite in it. I knew this was coming.

Larry sat down across from me, running a hand through his hair, his voice softening just a fraction. “What the fuck are you doing, mate?”

I stayed silent for a moment, rubbing my face, feeling the weight of everything I was trying to ignore. “What does it look like?” I muttered, though the words felt hollow.

“It looks like you’re trying to piss everyone off, including yourself.” Larry’s eyes searched mine, and I could feel the disappointment creeping in, the kind only a best mate could dish out. “You think Meredith’s the answer? Look around, Van. Nobody wants her here. Especially you.”

I clenched my fists, feeling the sting of truth in his words. “Maybe I don’t give a fuck what people want.”

Larry snorted, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit. You care what she thinks.”

My jaw tightened. I knew exactly who he meant without him saying her name.

“She made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with me,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

Larry didn’t let up. “So, this is your answer? Parading Meredith around like a fucking trophy just to get back at her?”

I let out a bitter laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Maybe I should act like what she already thinks I am.”

Larry’s face softened, and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re better than this, man. And you know it. You think she’s sitting in her bunk crying because she’s having a good time?”

I froze.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, sitting up straighter, my heart thudding in my chest.

Larry’s eyes hardened. “I mean, you’ve fucked her up, Van. She’s in there breaking down, and you’re out here shagging for four hours straight.”

My chest tightened, my hands suddenly feeling too heavy. “She said she didn’t care. She said—”

“She’s saying a lot of shit, but you know her better than that by now. She’s hurting, mate. And you’re just making it worse.”

I stared at him, feeling my stomach drop. I had wanted her angry, wanted her to come to me, to fight, but I hadn’t thought about this. About her sitting alone, crying because of what I’d done.

The image of Ella’s face, that last look before she told me to leave her for good, flashed in my mind.

“You fucked up, Van,” Larry said quietly. “But it’s not too late to fix it.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the cigarette burn in the fabric, trying to process it all. The weight of my own actions was pressing down on me now, harder than before.

“Fix it? How?” I muttered, more to myself than to Larry.

He leaned forward, his voice steady but firm. “You start by stopping this bullshit with Meredith. Then, you go talk to her. Not to push her. Not to get her to come running back. Just… talk to her.”

I felt the knot tightening in my chest again. Talking to Ella wasn’t as simple as Larry made it sound. Nothing about her was simple. But I knew he was right.

“You think isolating yourself is the answer?” Larry pressed, his tone firm. “You know you can’t keep hiding behind Meredith or anyone else. It’s not going to fill that void, man.

Larry stood, giving me one last look. “Don’t fuck this up more than you already have.”

Then, without another word, he turned and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts and regrets to eat me alive.

[forgetmenotcollective]

eres mi norte y mi sur - hoy

oh my god! have you listened to me lately? / lately, I've been fucking crazy / there are some nights I wait for someone to save us / but I never look inward, tried not to look upward / and some nights I pray a sign is gonna come to me / but usually, I'm just trying to get some sleep - some nights (intro)

hello! we're the ghost town collective aka the forget-me-not collective! we are a DID collective!

you may know us as pepper or @summerspectre, this is our general sysblog :) we do art and writing sometimes, which you can find on @alltheghosties! we generally use they/she pronouns, but we do have a couple he/hims knocking around in there!

please keep syscourse away from this blog!

past cut —

i. our hosts

ii. partner systems

iii. all ghost town blogs

and I'll even have the courtesy of admitting I was wrong / as the final words before I'm dead and gone / you've never been so divine in accepting your defeat / and I've never been more scared to be alone / if love is not enough to put my enemies to sleep / then I'm putting out the lantern, find your own way back home - folkin' around

one must imagine sisyphus happy - albert camus

i. hosts / most frequent fronters

*as a collective, we have six "hosts," who serve as our most frequent fronters. in reality, there may be a "true host," but since all six of the following front with similar fluctuating frequencies, it's easiest to call them all hosts.

*all "in two words, described as..." sections are words given by @thelavendersys & @bundleofnerium

🤍

eden: in two words, described as loyal & resilient

eden (any pronouns, subscribes to anarchagenderism), formed in november 2022, is at the moment, our main pilot— she handles physical pain management as well as expresses our autistic symptoms with the least masking, undoing several years of repression and deeply rooted learned standards of behavior. she is an introject of c!technoblade and cc!technoblade & is source neutral. she is married to @dreamsjournals & deeply cares for our partner systems in a variety of ways. once she latches onto you, she will hardly ever turn away. her blog — @ladybladewastaken , @gardenofautism

now i see intentions don't mean much - the craving, tøp

🌙

matthew: in two words, described as steadfast & diligent

matthew (he/they/lune) is one of the oldest and evolved members of our system, being with us as a child to guide us and keep us safe to now being a host who is deeply integrated into our history and future. once he was mr. pickles, a centaur & our childhood friend, before changing shape to suit our needs— today is he is a mix of c!ranboo, cc!ranboo, genloss!ranboo, and other simpler variations. he is married to @tommyprimepath as of december 27th, 2023, and with the slip of an elbow, two trucks by lemon demon became their famous wedding song as it blared mid-ceremony. his blog — @ranbooo

maybe on a sunny day / you might have some things to say / but if you don't, that's okay - struck by lightning, sara kays

💛

juno: in two words, described as caring and compassionate

juno, or june (she/love), who properly formed in october of 2022, is a secondary host but still frequent enough as a fronter to be considered part of the "hocon" (or, three main hosts,) which consists of her, eden, and matthew. she is a c!quackity, q!quackity, k!quackity & cc!quackity introject and is married to @lookuponmyworksanddespair. she is the mom friend of her spaces, "adopting" friends playfully, and also taking in those who need maternal support, internally and externally. ella puede hablar en español con fluidez y este es muy interesante porque nuestro sistema no lo puede hablar con fluidez todo el tiempo. su blog — @thehousethatalwayswins

because you're loving, loving, loving me better - under the weather

🏹

chora: in two words, described as determined & formidable

chora (she/he/disc), discovered in january of 2022, is one of the oldest alters still similar to how she was when we discovered her— though notably more mellow. simultaneously, she has been host for the longest, and been with to juniper of @thelavendersys since april of 2022 in our longest intersystem relationship. she is a c!tommy introject, as well as an introject of ethan from the hatchetfield series done by starkid. she is known best by our long term friends, who might note her determination to help others and fight for what is necessary. her blog — @tmmyflower

only consistency in your periphery is fear and the bridge of your nose - oldies station, tøp

🦈

angelo: in two words, described as laidback and dynamic

foolish, or angelo (he/she) is our resident foolish introject. he is kind, artistic, and excellent company if you're searching for a good, casual friend. he is partners with eret of @blubellsys & wilbur @lookuponmyworksanddespair, as well as vegetta of his source. he is sourced by c!foolish, cc!foolish, q!foolish, shad of minecraft diaries, and is a factive of someone who taught us a lot about ourselves. you can catch him lounging by any pool or lake if we're going it solo, he is our resident aquatic totem after all! blog — @totemgod

teach me how to fight / I'll show you how to win / you're my mortal flaw / and I'm your fatal sin - warrior, beth crowley

🪶

atticus: in two words, described as stubborn and authentic

atticus, or philza (he/him) formed to help our system manage the effects of guilt and rsd, and as time has gone on, his nonchalance and ease at life has elevated him to a host position. he is a big ol simp for his wife @taughtranboopronouns, and he loves his kids deeply. he is a c!phil, q!phil, wwtltysts!phil and cc!phil introject, as well as an introject of grace chasity (starkid) & orpheus (hadestown). fun little clusterfuck, eh? blog — @kristinsmalewife

standing in the balance of complete and incomplete / I identify the echo of what is and what will be - creature, half·alive

ii. partner systems

*as a collective, we observe polyamorous habits regarding partner systems. these will be listed in alphabetical order!

@blubellsys — partner system of 2 years, /r & /p dynamics — don't let the bluebell fool you, they are as warm as the atlantic and as influential as the undertow.

@thelavendersys — partner system of 2.5 years, /r & /p dynamics — they are as lavender as their name suggests, powerful yet relaxing, safe and worth growing with. worth choosing.

@bundleofnerium — /p partner system, /p dynamics — the nerium is a powerful flower; don't let their petals fool you. they are a force of passion and love unlike any other!

iii. blogs

*if you're in this far i salute you actually... thinking you actually are interested /silly

@ranbooo - matt, he/they, introject of c!ranboo, c!ghostboo, cc!ranboo, gen0!ranboo, etc.

@thehousethatalwayswins, @trophywifequackity - juno, she/love, introject of c!quackity, cc!quackity, q!quackity, and k!quackity

@ladybladewastaken, @gardenofautism - eden, any pronouns, introject of c!technoblade and cc!technoblade

@tmmyflower - chora, she/he/disc, introject of c!tommyinnit and ethan green (starkid)

@minecraftjukebox - thor, any pronouns excluding she/her, introject of c!tommyinnit and hello minutes man!tommy

@dapduos - philippa, she/her, non introject

@dreamsmile - minerva/duchenne, she/it, introject of c!dream

@kristinsmalewife - philza/atticus, he/him, introject of c!philza, q!philza, hardcore!philza, cc!philza, orpheus (hadestown), grace chasity (starkid), etc.

@conflores - florence, she/he, introject of purpleza

@snailbur - nova/wilbur rose, she/her, introject of c!wilbur, @/sootsunrise

@thatbubblegumbitch - kita, she/he/they, introject of q!jaiden

@qslimecicle - charlie, any pronouns, introject of c!slimecicle, q!slimecicle, cc!slimecicle, genloss!slimecicle, etc.

@trophywifetubbo - tubbo, she/he, introject of c!tubbo, q!tubbo, cc!tubbo, etc.

@anorpaw - anora, she/lotus, introject of c!quackity

@queenofcapybaras -leonarda, she/he, introject of q!leo (supervised account)

@pancakehat - empanada, she/her, introject of q!empanada (supervised account)

@viennasoot - vienna/tallulah, she/her, introject of q!tallulah (supervised account)

@thefrenchsniper - adeline/pomme, she/her, introject of q!pomme (supervised account)

@imortarlyson - richas, any pronouns, introject of q!richarlyson (supervised account)

@elquackitys - isabela, they/she, introject of q!elquackity and the protagonist of the game presentable liberty

@totemgod - angelo/foolish, he/she, introject of c!foolish, q!foolish, cc!foolish, @/god-of-sea (partial), shad (mcd)

@muffinheaded - semele/badboyhalo, he/him, introject of c!badboyhalo, q!badboyhalo, and cc!badboyhalo

@literallypurple - michael afton, he/him, michael afton introject

@littlemisssorry - sorry, pronouns depend, introject of several characters

@g-n-f - george/luca, he/him, introject of c!george, heatwaves!george, cc!george, good morning gogy!george, etc.

@redstonemachines - awesamdude, he/they/it, introject of c!awesamdude and cc!awesamdude