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minkdelovely · 5 months ago

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love and power

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chapter ten: part one

“i won’t die for love

but ever since i met you,

you could have my heart

and i would break it for you.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: vibes are not good y’all — it’s a blizzard in this here hotel 🥶 angst, crying, descriptions of sadness/loneliness, valentino mention lol, alcohol abuse and drug usage, mentions of bruising and bite wound recovery, power dynamics

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: okay, i was really hoping to have this all completed today but between some family obligations and graduations i didn’t have all the time i wanted to wrap this up in one go. but i really couldn’t keep this to myself anymore — i am so desperate to share what i have ready for you. i am still hacking away at the rest but for now, please accept part one of this finale with my gratitude and love 🙏🏻💖 @hazelfoureyes & @sugoi-writes come and get it my darlings ❤️‍🔥

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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The week that passed was long. Undoubtedly the way weeks in Hell were supposed to feel — grueling and bleak, devoid of joy. Hours passing like decades, leaving its casualties wrung out and aged.

Despite the rift only being between the two of you, it was felt by everyone in the hotel. Much to their misfortune, neither of you were spending hardly (if any) time in your rooms. No one knew exactly why, of course, but understood well enough to suffer in silence and bear the brunt for now. The weight of what transpired hanging in the air of whichever room either of you entered.

Yours took the form of an icy draft, reminiscent of past winters that could only be felt again here in a manner such as this. Wandering the halls of the hotel, save for one, like a specter. Leaving sinners in your wake grateful once you had finally passed through; the natural heat of Hell returning in your absence to soothe their frostbite as if apologizing on your behalf.

And if your melancholy was that of a cold wind, Alastor’s was the storm that bore it. Blustering and wild in its unpredictability, an exposed nerve waiting for a catalyst. Always he was in the eye of it. Not even knowing himself which direction it may take — malice, apathy, vengeance — but claiming victims nonetheless, despite his efforts to maintain his air of refinement around the hotel. The hairline cracks in his guise couldn’t help but leak.

Even Niffty was proceeding with caution; not daring to climb the length of his body as she so often did without care. She had only made one attempt in the interim of the argument and had yet to fully recover from the murderous glare Alastor had threatened her with. His tense, bloody smile was still the first thing she saw when she closed her eyes at night. But she was warming up to it.

Husk was particularly displeased with the whole affair, having to deal with each of you as you took turns sulking at the bar in between bouts of sucking the life out of anyone you passed. Something had to be done about it. Not only for his whiskey supply, but he just also wished Alastor would mope somewhere else. And there was no telling which mood he would be in by the time he was ready to go back upstairs. Making it dangerous for anyone still roaming around in the late hours of the night.

Asking Alastor about what was wrong was a dead end, and thankfully no one was naive enough to try. But you were still so despondent, nursing your drinks at one of the booths in a dark corner of the bar, that no one dared approach you yet. Though Angel was getting close. In fact, an idea was forming in his mind right now as he watched you sulking from his usual seat at the counter.

“I can’t fuckin’ take much more’a this,” he grumbled lowly to Husker, frowning over his drink. “It’s startin’ to rub off on me! I’ve been infected.” His histrionic expression of woe only mildly overdone.

It really was wearing on him, as much as he tried not to let it. But between the atmosphere at the studio and now this… Angel could only be so resilient. Though he did his best to ensure it wasn’t bleeding into his work. Not an easy feat, especially when he thought back to that weird voicemail he got from Valentino about a week ago.

Tell our little Sylvie I said ‘you’re welcome’ — God knows she really fucking needed it. Such a repressed thing… really wish I could have kept her longer.

The implication had actually made Angel lose sleep. Even knowing that Alastor had been with you, when it came to Val the possibilities were endless. And clearly whatever he instigated between you and Alastor had ended in disaster. Angel hadn’t relayed the message, of course. Nor had he given Valentino even a hint of what was going on at the hotel, much to his chagrin. He’d sooner face the Exorcists again than give Val the satisfaction, and it was fun being able to piss him off, whatever the consequence. Still…

“Have you tried talk—”

“Not a fuckin’ chance,” Husk said definitively, an unimpressed look on his face. “I ain’t gettin’ mixed up in this shit. The less I know about what’s going on between the two of ’em, the better.” He shuddered just at the thought.

Angel sighed, but understood Husk’s resistance to the idea as he obviously wasn’t prepared to try and speak to the Radio Demon about it himself. Getting a peak behind Alastor’s curtain was an intriguing, but ultimately deadly, risk — especially for the bartender. Meaning there was only one way out.

He glanced back over his shoulder at you, taking in the distant look in your eyes as you absently played with the two small straws in your glass. Feeling resolved, Angel downed what was left of his drink and gave Husk a quick wish me luck before walking over.

“All right, doll face, you’re comin’ with me. We’re overdue for a gab sesh,” Angel said, leaning over the table to grab your drink. His tone of voice was kind, though a little irked, and left no room for argument. “It’s uh… about that time anyway,” he added softly, offering a hand to help you out of the booth when you didn’t move.

That time… There was no need for him to say more; you knew Alastor was coming down here after you went up to your room for the night. Was it getting that late already? The bar didn’t have windows so it was impossible to tell how long you had been sitting there in the dark, counting only the number of drinks you consumed. Four wasn’t too bad. Yesterday it had been more. Maybe almost double. But it was hard to remember.

You took his hand and scooted yourself out of the corner, grateful to feel someone holding you steady again. It nearly brought you to tears in your drunken state, but you managed to blink them back and focused on the impending journey to the elevators. All your concentration going to your feet as your arm gripped his for support, which he didn’t falter in providing. Angel had plenty of experience in this, after all. You weren’t the first drunk he had helped home and you wouldn’t be the last.

A chill ran through you as you crossed the lobby. When you looked over your shoulder you could’ve sworn you saw a shadow flitting across the carpet… but it was gone as soon as you blinked.

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Husk groaned as Alastor materialized at the stool he’d adopted at the bar counter — dead center, wouldn’t you know it. Muttering to himself about how Angel had just barely rid him of one problem only to be replaced with an even bigger one; turning to the shelf behind him to grab the whiskey he already knew the son-of-a-bitch wanted.

“Quit your bitching and just give me the bottle,” Alastor grumbled, rubbing at his temples as Husk unceremoniously obeyed. Slamming it down in front of his keeper and earning a tight, unamused look in response. “Bastard…”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Husk scoffed as he set down an accompanying drinking glass. Amused by the display of decorum Alastor subjected himself to, as if he wasn’t about to drown himself in liquor for the fifth night in a row.

It was starting to catch up to him, though Husk wouldn’t dream of letting him know. It was obvious if you looked at the Overlord long enough, which most people didn’t. And they were smart not to.

Husk, however, had no choice other than to spend hours hanging around the otherwise empty bar waiting for Alastor to finish sinking his sorrows bottle after bottle. So finding the tells was inevitable. Dark circles under worn eyes, a few hairs out of place. Counterfeit smile reaching a level of mania the bartender would have thought impossible before this week.

But that was none of his business.

Alastor ignored him then, pulling the cork out of the bottleneck before pouring into his glass and downing it with a single swallow. He repeated this two more times before deciding to pace himself.

It didn’t take passing you in the lobby to know you had been here. Your scent permeated the room, mingling with liquor and tobacco, smelling closer now to cyanide than your usual floral almond and cherry; surpassing the bitterness Alastor had ever assumed it could reach. He detested how much he enjoyed it, especially when it was hanging fresh in the air as it was now, though he didn’t know whether it was an outward or inner loathing. The aromatics of the bar helped cut through the ache. Made it tolerable. But…

“It smells awful in here,” Alastor sighed bitterly. Eyes faraway as he let his nose hover over the glass before taking another sip.

If he said it out loud it could be true.

About as awful as you fuckin’ look, Husk thought to himself before casually responding, “Well this is a bar in Hell. None of ’em smell like roses.”

Alastor merely hummed in response; a disconnected sound. Most likely the last sound the bartender would manage to get out of the Overlord for the rest of the night.

It wouldn’t be wise for Husk to let on that he knew exactly what Alastor meant by the smell, but he did agree. That was part of the reason he was getting to the end of his rope with the both of you. Although you kept to yourself, the scent you were emitting was harsh and it lingered. Husk was beginning to wonder if it had actually started seeping into the wallpaper.

As difficult as it was to stay neutral, especially since he could understand certain aspects of your plight, getting involved was simply too dangerous. He thought he had a good grasp on his keeper’s moods and behavior, but this was all new territory. Tread lightly.

And so, he reserved himself to suffering through your poisoned aroma and Alastor’s moods. Hoping to whatever benevolent entity that could hear his silent pleas that Angel Dust would manage a breakthrough.

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You were sitting crossed-legged on Angel’s bed as he rummaged through his specially made walk-in closet. Doing your best to fight off the sleep that was beginning to weigh on your eyelids, but it was a test of will that you were rapidly losing. The temptation to lay down and nestle yourself into the comfortable pink pillows and duvet growing stronger with each passing second.

Angel must have been able to tell when he finally emerged, turning on some music to a volume that was just loud enough you couldn’t dismiss it as background noise before revealing a joint from behind his back with a flourish.

“Ta-da! Those bitches really think they got the last of it, but they’ll never find my break in case of emergency stash,” he mused with pride, nearly jumping on the bed to wake you up.

He wasted no time in lighting a match from a pack on his nightstand, igniting the paper and taking a couple hits until a sufficient burn was glowing in a thin line of red. At which point he passed it to you, exhaling with a turn of his head. So polite.

This was far from your first time, but it had been a while since you last done this with a friend. You opted for a long drag and held in the smoke, nearly sighing as you felt the drug kick in after a second. Welcoming the warm, floating feeling in your head with a lazy smile as you emptied your lungs.

Angel whistled, impressed. “Not even the tiniest cough! My kinda gal. We shoulda done this ages ago.”

You nodded your head, passing it back to him as you laid down; sinking into the plush pillows with a hum. He followed suit, taking another hit and blowing the smoke your way with a teasing look on his face. You couldn’t help but giggle, both from the high and Angel’s comforting presence. Time passed for a while this way, taking turns with the joint and listening to music. Little laughing fits when you made eye contact for too long or muttered Val’s hat. Cuddling with his darling little pet pig, Fat Nuggets.

But once you had taken the last drag there was a shift. He was staring at you, waiting with the most open and soft face. The question on it the one you could no longer avoid. So what happened?

It took all you had not to cry. In fact, you were amazed at the capacity of tears your body had rendered over the past week. How could there still be any more left to give? But there was. At this point you weren’t sure whether they were coming from a place of anger, shame, or heartbreak. When it came to Alastor, you found your emotions had chasms deeper than you ever conceived. And they were more oppressive the further you went.

“Valentino didn’t tell you anything?”

Angel shook his head and made a face, landing somewhere between exhaustion and exasperation. “Sort of. You know how those fuckers like to play their little games. He keeps waitin’ for me to say somethin’, but I prefer to watch him squirm.”

Though you worried for him and hoped some part of Alastor’s deal held up in his favor, starting there would be a good place to start; leading him through the whole affair at the penthouse that you were present for. Not missing the sad look in Angel’s eyes when you finally got around to Valentino licking your neck.

When you began to tell him about what happened once you got back to the hotel his eyes went wide. The scandalized scoff and I can’t fucking believe you sparkle in his eyes made you blush before you both erupted in a cackle, a form of pride shining through storm clouds of melancholy. You knew he would have burning questions and answered them as they came up.

Is he big? Yes.

Rough? No, until he was.

Maybe even just a tad over. There were still some decent bruises to show for it. On top of which, the bite was taking a little longer to heal than expected…

You were snapped back by Angel’s next question.

Was it good? …the best. In fact, had you ever experienced that in life you would’ve found yourself here immediately after.

The last one had you both squealing. But he could see the tears blurring your eyes afterward, holding your hands as you continued. From waking up in his bed that evening, what happened in it, all the way through the fight the following morning.

“Fuck,” he sighed, the empathy on his face threatening to make you break down all over again. “Would you have done it without the pheromones?”

Your lips quivered a bit, and you let out a shaky breath as you fought to remain composed before answering with a nod. “But he wouldn’t have… and now…”

The sob that followed took you by force, fueled by the loneliness you’ve been losing battles to all week. Angel hushed you when you tried to apologize, holding your hands until you were done. He left you momentarily to get you tissues and returned in pajamas; a box and large t-shirt in hand.

You took them, going for the tissues first. Turning away to clean your face and blow your nose. It was not a bodily function you ever cared for, so of course it was something you still had to deal with in Hell. Afterward you undressed and put on the oversized shirt, immediately feeling much better by the time you rejoined Angel in your former positions.

“Keep goin’,” he said, shifting some pillows to get more comfortable. “We gotta get this off that sweet chest’a yours.”

“Are you sure…? I don’t wanna bum you out too much.”

He waved his hand, and raised his eyebrows. The expectant look on his face practically shouting get on with it. You put a hand up in defeat and exhaled.

“I just… wish he would let me leave, you know? Even though I can’t imagine not being here with you and everyone else but… I can barely make it to the garden before I start to feel the tug.” Your hand went up to your throat as you swallowed.

You hadn’t meant to, but you didn’t mention the chain during your recall of the fight. He would understand, you knew, but… you kept it to yourself. It was hard to reason why. All you knew was that for now, it wasn’t something you wanted anyone to know about.

“He’s got me trapped here and I swear it’s like I can feel him all the time even though we’ve been avoiding each other all week,” you bemoaned, squeezing your eyes shut to fight back another wave of tears. The look on Angel’s face told you all you needed to know when you opened them again. He knew. “Is it bad that I miss him? I’m… fucking mad at him too, but… I miss him more than I thought I would…”

It was a painful admission, but an honest one.

Angel wiped a stray tear from your cheek before running his fingers through your hair. Sighing before he said, just above a whisper, “No. It’s not bad that you miss him. But you know it’s…,” he sighed again searching for the right words. An almost tired look on his face. “Guys like them… they think they can just treat us like toys. But we ain’t. Alastor might be pissed off now but it’s only a matter of time before he’ll want you for something. That’s how it works.”

He practically spat the word out, voice rising slightly with indignant fire.

“I can’t say I know what he’s thinkin’ — no one understands that mind’a his. But he’s been… different since the fight. We all thought he was startin’ to come around! I think you’ve been a nice little distraction.”

The pinch to your cheek was a welcome dose of levity, and your chest bloomed with warmth at the sight of Angel’s mischievous face. Though his eyes were still a bit somber as his mouth relaxed into a soft smile.

“I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, as long as you know what you want and what you’re gettin’ into… No one here would think any less of you for it. There’s only so much you can do. I know.”

You let the words sink in as you wriggled closer to him, sighing a thank you into the comforting fluff of his chest as his arms wrapped around you. Not that you needed permission, but his blessing and understanding of your feelings carried a weight you weren’t sure he fully realized. The sun breaking through the clouds.

Angel played with your hair as the two of you changed topics, talking aimlessly about other things going on around the hotel that you had been too tired to notice. Gossiping and laughing until sleep finally crept up on you. For the first time in a week, your dreams had been light and kind. Dancing with static, familiar red eyes, and a radiant fanged smile.

Oblivious to the idea that was hatching in Angel’s mind as you fell asleep, the glint in his eye was wicked and determined. Overlords weren’t the only ones who knew how to play games.

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Days of the week didn’t hold the same kind of power in Hell as they did on Earth. But for the first time in years Alastor found himself growing impatient for evening’s approach. Akin to an itch, there had been a persistent irritation running through him. Something he managed to push to his feet at first but was steadily crawling up, leaving pinpricks of restlessness it its wake.

The nervousness was finding outlets in peculiar ways. Mindlessly shaking his leg for unknowable amounts of time, snapping pencils as he tried to focus on work. Clothes strewn about his room like the vines that adorned the radio tower.

Weekends weren’t a concept that existed here, and even if they did, they would mean quite little to the Overlord as his work was never finished. Splitting time between his duties to the hotel and his radio segments kept him more than occupied. Well… when he wanted them too, at least. He had been letting the side down these past couple weeks. Following his flights of fancy was one of the lingering pieces of his humanity that refused to leave him even after all this time. In fact, it was a trait that found more enabling here than it ever had in life.

All of this to say, Alastor didn’t place significance in time or days of the week unless there was an event or some tiresome chore tied to it.

Tonight was one of those times.

Charlie and Vaggie had gathered the residents yesterday to announce that they had a surprise planned — a Friday night out, since the pair had missed it the last time due to their appointment in Heaven. Alastor had been listening from the banister a few floors up, watching as everyone reacted with relative enthusiasm. Except for you.

Had he not heard the words with his own ears, he’d have thought you’d been told you were attending a funeral. This hadn’t been the first time he’d eavesdropped on the daily activities gathering, but it was the first time he’d had his interest peaked. Not because he was concerned with you going out — you weren’t allowed that right now. And knew it.

Watching you squirm was something he’d never tire of. It was a subtle tell, which is why Alastor appreciated it. Just a touch of additional tension between your brows and a fiddling of fingers. That perpetual pout and concentrated look in your eyes were distracting enough to maintain focus, easily deterring others from picking up on your nervous fidgeting.

Still marinating in the bitterness of the week, it brought him a keen satisfaction seeing you struggle to think up an excuse as to why you couldn’t join them on their evening out. Would you blame it on him? Or put it upon yourself?

“I hope you all have a great time! But I think I’ll hang back… I’d hate to be the sad drunk at the sex club.”

Is that what the establishment Consent was?

If Alastor hadn’t already shortened your leash, he would have done it now. Not even realizing his claws had dug into the bannister until he felt the recoil when he tried to walk away. An irritated growl reverberating in his throat as the heat of his shortened temper fogged his mind. So he melted into shadow to retreat back to the privacy of his room to let off steam.

And so, Friday evening had plagued him ever since. The hotel now empty save for the two of you.

It was a thought that shouldn’t have riled him up the way it did. He was still rather cross with you for instigating that fight, after all. You had laid misery at his feet and he’d be remiss to not return the favor. It had been warranted.

The intention of isolating you from him was supposed to be your punishment, but had somehow become his as well. It was infuriating. Another example of how his plans of late continued to backfire and leave him scrambling to figure out a clean escape.

It hadn’t come to him as easily this time. Drowning his agitation in liquor, hours of pointless gardening in his sanctuary just to keep his hands busy. Listlessly sitting at the bench of his piano, staring at the keys with hesitant hands. Any music he did manage to play, while passionate, was acrid and only further soured his mood. The bitter notes mingling in the air with what was left of your scent. Mocking.

Exhausting.

He felt now very much the same as he had right after the battle with Heaven, recovering from the ghastly wound Adam had landed on him. Alone. Made aimless in recovery. Back to square one.

Alastor’s antlers branched out at the memory, a snarl on his lips as he paced through trees and shrubbery. It was a low point he thought he’d never suffer again, yet here he was. A sulking menace, same as you.

Despite best efforts, he had combed over the fight more times than he could count these last few days. Which of his actions had mislead you to such a conclusion that the copulation had been nothing but a game? Is that the kind of man you took him for? His blood burned again at the very notion, eyes radiating with such a heat he couldn’t believe the grass in its wake hadn’t shriveled from it.

He had taken advantage of your offer, but his desire to have you was something he had already been struggling with. Was that not apparent in how hard he fought to maintain a gentle touch? At least until he couldn’t? Even if your docile face hadn’t told him how needed that was, it was something he could feel. And something he more than willing to indulge. He had always been a hunter.

But his hand had been forced that time, and that was something he couldn’t forgive. No matter your willingness to participate nor the pleasure he had felt in claiming your body.

The second time…

That had been his decision. Though your laugh was the trigger.

Alastor wasn’t lying when he said he thought you didn’t know how. Yet there it was, hiding in your chest, those sweet chords of mirth falling from your mouth with a nonchalance that was almost offensive. Your lips turned up in an equally rare display, eyes sparkling in his partially lit room as you sat in his bed, bundled up in his housecoat.

It haunted him now.

But in the moment, his mind had gone blank, so surprised by the honest show of emotion from you. He himself was prone to a more orchestrated laugh, so he knew. It had been real. You had laughed for him. Let him burrow just a little further into your soul that you kept so guarded, despite the fact that he owned it.

You were the goldfish enticing him behind your glass bowl as if he were a cat that was afraid to get wet.

He wasn’t.

Honestly, he hadn’t planned to bed you again so soon. In fact, he had felt rather sated from the exploits of the afternoon, despite his reservations for how it came about; more than content to let you sleep while he read his book. Knowing you’d eventually be waking up from the pain of his bite, he kept you close. Glancing over every now and then between passages to look at your sleeping face.

Even in sleep those downturned lips of yours taunted him. He had even touched them. The plush softness under his thumb a sensation he didn’t think he’d enjoy as much as he did with a clear head. He watched as the knot in your brow melted away, the swell in his chest giving him little reason not to do it again. So he did. You looked so peaceful it almost made him want to join you, but he wasn’t ready to entertain that just yet. Eventually rewarded for his abstinence with being able to watch you come back to life, petulance and all.

And then you laughed.

Laughter was something he heard all the time around this fatuous hotel. And he had certainly heard more than his fair share of cackles. None of which had moved him. Well…

Getting Husker to laugh for the first time was an accomplishment. Those were still hard to come by, despite the amount of time they’ve known each other.

But that had been a game Alastor was actively playing. He had never set out to make you laugh (even when he said he was). Being the spoilsport — childish but true — you were, you were too much fun to tease to put an effort into making you laugh.

What a golden little sound it was; lighthearted but just incredulous enough to make his cock twitch. So… no. It hadn’t been the pheromones the second time.

He wanted that. He… enjoyed that.

He still wanted that, though he didn’t fully understand why. You just seemed to… set something off in him. A difficult thing to articulate, as he hadn’t ever really felt something like it before. Not this acutely.

Possessiveness, sure. Alastor wasn’t ashamed to admit to that. Was it so wrong to want to hold tightly to what was so hard-earned? He had broken his back to gain the reputation he had, and would never regret the choices made to get here. Save for one. But that was beside the point. For now.

What he felt for you was different, again, just in a way he was unsure of. Not love… he wasn’t a boy. It was much too soon for a word like that. But there was certainly a longing… a fondness.

It had been your scent that intrigued him at first. He had made his peace with that. Enjoyed his little games in testing how your mood would change it, which aided in his desire to wipe that frown off your face. A flash of how you looked laying beneath him came to the front of his mind then, and Alastor gave his head a harsh jerk to vanish it. Though it didn’t help clear the phantom echos of your cries and moans now ringing in his ears.

You had surrendered to him so completely, given him your trust so fully that afternoon that you even endured that ferocious bite with nothing but a scream into the pillows. Letting him claim you in the way he needed to in that moment was no small feat. But you did. He didn’t whisper apologies on a whim. You had earned it.

Irritation was building up in him again, a growl rumbling in his chest as his jaw tightened and antlers creaked with growth. But he persevered, continuing down his train of thought as his legs kept up their restless strides. It was the closest he had felt to something akin to clarity all week.

While he had definitely enjoyed fucking you, there was more to it than that. He wouldn’t have given himself to you in the first place if you hadn’t appealed to him in other ways leading up to it.

Rigidity, diligence, sullenness. Pride, even.

Despite the more irksome traits, one thing he could always count on was that you would complete the tasks given to you well. A hard thing to come by in this godforsaken place.

But there was a fierceness hiding underneath that you refused to let loose, unless of course you were giving him attitude. That, in particular, drove him rather mad but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it. He had grown rather accustomed to navigating you in such a short span of time. It wasn’t lost on him that you had done the same.

You had shown him quite a few times how willing you were to accept even the harsher side of his moods. That evening in his room when Angel had told him about Valentino was a prime example. You had been absolutely terrified — something he was able to see on your face and smell — yet you still showed up the following morning. Impressing him, in a way, with the gall you had to actually enter his suite without permission. He would have chuckled at the memory if he wasn’t on the verge of punching something.

That morning had been the first time he took notice of how you went about cleaning his room, taking extra care with how you made his bed that he hardly ever slept in. So much wasted effort for the both of you, but Alastor didn’t regret it. Even though that bed had become the bane of his existence, mocking him any time he was in the room.

Why did you care so much?

Irritation turned to anger at the thought, meaning he was on the right track. You were asking him the wrong questions the morning you fought, but you had been justified on some fronts. He had done nothing but push your buttons since bringing you here. Made you do pointless things just to see if you would and test how long he could get away with it before you snapped; purposeful choices made so that he could in turn punish you for being disobedient.

Not that his desire to punish you was your fault. It wasn’t. And if he was being honest, you hadn’t presented him many opportunities to do so anyway. Diligence.

He wanted to move past it, but he was still so twisted up about how everything happened with the battle against Adam and the Exorcists a few weeks ago. To the point where sometimes he wished Adam actually had taken him out. To be nothing but a discorporated soul clinging to life in some inanimate object, indulging in the peace of such an existence. No more fighting, no more posturing, no more leash.

But he retreated before Adam could finish the job. His instinct to survive persevering once again. No… It was his ego, not his instinct, that had made that choice. Though if it hadn’t well… He wouldn’t have been able to go to Rosie’s that fated afternoon, would he? You were a burden he hadn’t wanted to undertake and had no choice but to. And yet you fit yourself into his routine as if you’d been tending to him for decades.

Why did you care so much?

Could you tell that he was struggling in the never-ending war against his own vanity? That he was dejected from losing a fight in what seemed like near self-sacrifice from the outside? Some part of you must have. Why else would you let him bully you, only to turn around and address his needs with a consistency that alarmed him. Let him prod and hold and touch you at his whim, much like the microphone that never left his side.

Another loss he hadn’t recovered from. Its splintered form now buried at the base of a tree in his secondary room. The shame of seeing it lying around his suite or the radio tower while he failed to mend it too much to bear. A contemptuous symbol of who he was and what he had been reduced to.

Exhausting…

He hadn’t even noticed that he was walking to your room before he was standing in front of the door. Alastor would be lying if he said he thought you would be the one to come to him.

You always took the wrong things to heart.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @stardustandbrimstone, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @alastorthirsty, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #song fic #if i can't have love i want power #love and power #x reader #slow burn #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn

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barrenclan · 13 days ago

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I'm sorry but whenever I think of human versions of your characters I always picture Hacksaw as some badass tatted up motorcycle lady who wears as much leather as possible and Ranger is just vaguely Joe Dirt with a goofy ass walmart tee that says something like "officer, my guns are here" (two arrows pointing at the arms). He just picks fights with people or gets under their skin and then Hacksaw beats them up. ty for coming to my ted talk

What an excellently timed question for showing off the Patreon illustration reward I did last month (which you can vote on and see early for just one American dollar a month!), which was humanized Hacksaw and Ranger designs!

Here's the rambly lore I came up for, which slots into my PATFW human AU:

Rachel Frost was a notorious car thief, known for brazen daylight capers that she nonetheless always outran the cops on, screaming across highways and narrowly avoiding death. Though short-statured, she nonetheless possessed deadly hand-to-hand combat and especially knife combat skills, and left a trail of bodies in her wake.

Hank Summers was a financial fraudster, con artist, and expert money launderer operating out a series of dingy basements and broken-down hotels in Arizona, always managing to stay one step ahead of the authorities as he scammed and hacked dozens out of their life savings.

It was on a getaway bust in 1971 that Rachel broke into Hank's car, threatening him to drive or she'd slit his throat. To her surprise, Hank was more than willing to go along and flirted all the way, and it quickly became clear that he was head-over-heels for the vivacious fugitive. They got along like a house on fire, tearing across the southwestern US and earning the nickname "the scourges of the southwest". Then one day, the two of them seemingly vanished off the face of the earth, nothing more than a dead-end paper trail and a junkyard full of scrapped vehicles showing they were there at all.

#ask #anon #hacksaw #ranger #rainhaze #human au #extra art #you're right in that i should've given hacksaw tattoos though that's an oversight

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circeyoru · 6 months ago

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Cannot Compute

[Alastor x Robotic Demon!Reader]

Part 1 (here) — Part 2 — Part 3

Before your more-than-welcomed death, you were a trained assassin and bodyguard of a wealthy family. Due to the nature of running an underground, there were a lot of targets on their backs. So you were one of the orphans picked up from the streets to be one of their trained assassins

No surprise when you ended up in Hell

Your fascination with artificial intelligence and robots with human skin was probably the reason why your demon form was an actual robot. You unlocked ‘skills’ and ‘powers’ like a system was given to you when it was actually your powers to begin with. You had experimented with other demons to see if they had the same powers or system you did

They didn’t. So you chalked it up to it being an extension of your power, to give you some form of control over what you can do, to show yourself your potential. And followed the other side you did, you rose in ranks, nearly becoming an Overlord but denied it and kept to yourself. You weren’t looking for attention nor the fear and worship from others. You wanted to be strong to protect yourself, to rule and live your own afterlife, unlike your time alive

You were a great informant, since you had your system power, you could store as much as you wanted on others, much like a computer save function but without limit. Even better when you could hack and bring people into a virtual reality of your making, so long as they were weaker than you, you could devour their soul or corrupt it like a virus, even with a stronger opponent, you had the edge as long as you remained there with them

When you heard of the Happy Hotel, you were interested, purely curious of how demons can change. So you offered your services as the tech person. Meeting the others was an eye-opener, they were like the friends you never had for long

Of course, you got to meet Alastor, the Radio Demon who was gone for 7 years due to unknown reasons, as your files on him would tell you. His interest in you grew when he learned that you could overpower Vox and give him a run for his money since you were capable of hacking into him, literally

“Oh, how I wish I could have seen the look on his face!” Alastor laughed at the thought. You merely tilted your head in confusion, you were only defending yourself after Vox tried to take you by force since you rejected his offer to combine forces. New data: Alastor and Vox don’t see eye to eye

That was just one of the reasons Alastor would be so excited to seek you out and bring you around, especially when you had nothing to fix or help around in the hotel. Sure, you were monotonous and stoic with that metallic body of yours, but you’d give him the faintest smiles that shined brighter than stars. That was a charm of yours, to him at least. How he loved it when that smile was mostly shown to him and because of him

New emotion: fancy. Target: Alastor, the Radio Demon. Yup, you got a crush for once in your life and the afterlife combined, even better when you had the time for it! It only ended up with giving yourself weird quests to complete. Like meeting Alastor in the longue, say ‘hi’ to Alastor, and give Alastor a smile, etc. Then you researched how to express your feelings to him. Things went well when you let the flow take you, especially when Alastor was also taking the initiative

You’d mostly be with Alastor throughout the day, only separating when he was busy with his errands in the hotel or when he was broadcasting, for you it was whenever Charlie or someone else needed you for something and your duties. Though Alastor would find some way to stay close to you

When you learned of Angel and Husk’s soul contract with Val and Alastor himself, you genuinely offered your help to them, but they both denied it. To your surprise, Alastor caught you wanting to free Husk and offered you a deal, your soul for his, to which you declined. New data: Alastor wants to make a deal for your soul

Being in Hell, you knew there was one reason or another that granted all the people/sinners a place here. So you never painted Alastor in a positive light, though it was still shocking to you since he had never been evil or bad to you directly. That deal offer was really the first time you had seen his darker self

Note: Welcome home~ I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone. Say hello to an old series of mine, written so long ago that I nearly forgot it existed. Haha~ This has 3 parts (it was a very very long one cut into 3). And this is the shortest one (I think)

So what'd you think?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @snowy-violet

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #Cannot Compute

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rat-king-writes · 5 months ago

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Genji x male reader who is also an cyborg ninja like Raiden Metal Gear Rising Revengeance

( Thank you for the ask . )

Synopsis ; You are a half cyborg ninja , the other cyborg ninja ( Genji ) takes interest in you because of this .

Cw ; Minor violence ( I am so sorry I keep including some violence . )

-Being half human half cyborg was a tough way to live. You were constantly being eyeballed by both human and omnics alike, and people would avoid you on the streets like a plague. Your life has changed ever since the incident, and you often found yourself hopping from hotel to hotel, or even on the streets. Though this lifestyle seemed dangerous to outsiders, you weren't in any sort of trouble usually. You had grown up learning how to wield blades and other weapons, so you were safe from attackers who thought they could take advantage of you.

-Eventually your skills caught the eye of none other than Talon, a primarily morally bad organization that wants your talent for their own gain. And being that you are alone, broke, and essentially homeless; you take the offer to join them. Your first few days were rough. Being flung into a new environment full of people who didn’t care for rules or anything was a less than ideal situation. But what else could you do? You weren’t about to go back to hotel hopping. So you just steered clear of everyone outside of missions where you were forced to interact, but it was usually just yelled orders in your direction.

-On one terrible morning in Talon, you were called down for a debrief for a mission against Overwatch. A name you heard many times, but never really encountered on the field yet. Everytime Doomfist would mention the organization, he would do it in a way that taught you to despise them, so you knew they had to be absolute assholes, right? But you were also an asshole working with Talon, and your own research on overwatch concluded they wanted to save the world, but according to Doom they weren’t doing it right. This job was incredibly confusing. The mission was simple: infiltrate an Overwatch weapons facility and steal weaponry and maybe any intel Sombra - another Talon agent - could find. Simple, right?

-Wrong. Not simple, because when you arrived on scene, there were already guards there. No biggie, you could climb the wall and get in yourself while Sombra does her hack things. So you do; scaling the wall with ease and slipping into an open window. You landed on a grated platform, above all the weapons and equipment. Some guards were gathered there, so you carefully crouched down, readying your blade and swiftly taking each guard out before they could raise a gun to you. You pull back and place your sword in the holster, taking out your radio to tell your teammates the room is clear for extraction.

-When the other Talon agents arrive and start looting, you're instructed to keep watch, perching yourself back onto the grated high ground you had once been on. Everything was going well. Until there was a slice in the air and someone was lunging towards you. The speed caught you off guard, but you were able to quickly dodge before whoever was attacking you grabbed you. You lunged back, unsheathing your sword and looking at the assailant.

-You were shocked to see a man clad in a robotic like suit, similar to yours. You weren’t the only shocked one, as the attacker also seemed to be in the same position of confusion. You both stare at each other for a solid minute before you both, at the same time lunge forward; you both promptly stop in shock once more, a bit in awe at the similarity. It’s the presumed Overwatch agent that strikes first, throwing three shuriken at you. You lunged out of the way, but one managed to slice its way into the metal of your upper arm. Quickly regaining your senses, you run at him with a sword and, of course, he also has a sword.

-After a bit of back and forth a shout came from one of your team members signifying that it was time to go. You dash off of the grated platform and onto a vehicle containing the stolen goods and your team members. All the while you keep your eyes glued onto the green and grey robot man, he doesn’t do anything, he lets you go. The ride back to base was filled with laughter and pride. But you stayed quiet, something about the man you encountered left you stunned, and oddly, you wanted to see him again. You chalked these intruding thoughts up to years of loneliness and mistreatment clouding your judgment. Yet you still sit in your seat, hand delicately tracing the shuriken he had lodged in your arm, pondering what would have happened if you and that man met under different circumstances.

-Later that night you left the house in search of. Well, peace. The base had gotten louder because of the successful heist, and you just needed to get away for a bit. You head to your usual spot, a cliff-like area where you could sit down and relax. You were there for about 30 minutes before you were suddenly disrupted by someone walking up behind you, their footsteps were oddly quiet so you were sure it was someone trying to mug you or something. It was a shock when the person didn’t rob you, but instead sat down next to you. It was the robot man from earlier. You were very confused but he didn’t seem violent and you two just sat there for a bit. You kept your guard up, but you found yourself enjoying the company. No one talked, and it would stay like that until the man left. You also left after a bit, in a much better mood than before.

-The next following months each and every night you would sit at that spot and the man would join you. The first few weeks you two didn’t speak, but eventually you both introduced yourselves. You had learned through one of your many conversations the reason why Genji was the way he is, and you had also confided in him of your own story. In many of your conversations Genji would ask you to quit Talon and transfer to Overwatch, or just leave Talon and disappear somewhere ( Of course he told you to keep contact with him ). However each time you would shut it down, you had heard way too many speeches about the repercussions of splitting off, and you didn't think anyone in Overwatch would be fond of you joining.

-That is until a few weeks later Genji had told you of an ex Talon member who was welcomed easily into the Overwatch agency ( Not without some backlash from Talon itself ). So after careful consideration, and Genji's persistence, you two devised a plan. Firstly, Genji would tell Overwatch about your situation, and then you would pack; later that night you would sneak away and never return. Genji, the absolute sweetheart, was even able to stick you in a base that was farther away as it would help you steer clear of any Talon agents while your disappearance is processed.

-There were a few Overwatch agents there already, as well as Genji who also stayed with you. so you were well protected if anything were to happen. Thankfully it didn't. The base was nice, quiet, and the people there were much friendlier but a bit overwhelming so you usually hung out with Genji in your room. During that time you two just kept getting closer and closer, and eventually Genji showed you his face. That moment your heart was pounding, he was unbelievably gorgeous, and though he hated his scars you absolutely adored them. You worried him though, your long seconds of silence made you believe that you were uncomfortable, but you assured him you were just in so much shock someone could be that handsome.

-From that day on there was a new bloom to your relationship, you two sat closer, Genji would take off his mask, and you would take off your own prosthetics. It was something new, but something you realized you needed, and looked forward to. When you were finally cleared for safety, you and Genji went back to the main base and your feelings only grew from there. Missions with him felt more meaningful, watching him save people or show off was a thrill you never knew you could enjoy. And everytime you did something good, he would praise you after making your heart beat in your chest loudly.

-Of course your feelings got too unbearable to ignore, and one humid night you asked him out. Out to the same cliff he had joined you in originally. You both sat in silence until you mustered enough courage to spill your heart to him. It was fast, clumsy, and probably confusing. But in the end Genji takes off his face plate and smiles at you, telling you he feels the same. Time seems to stop for a minute, but you smile back and grab his hand, dragging him back to base. You would only really be affectionate in private, the quiet 'I love you's' hidden behind closed doors. However sometimes during battle Genji will bump his faceplate into your cheek until you give it a kiss.

#x male reader #overwatch x male reader #overwatch x reader #genji shimada #genji x reader #Genji x male reader #ratkingwrites

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pastel-kaleesh · 4 months ago

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Trashbin Hotel rewrite

WARNING: Mentions of suicide, body shaming, and unhealthy habits

Valentino: Instead of being a rapist, he's just some guy who's horrible at love. When he was still alive, he was a bodyguard of a club in Colombia. He tried finding a partner, but always failed in a way, until he met a woman named Caterina. The two eventually started dating, and later on got married, until something happened. Caterina cheated on Val over some other man she found in the streets. Once Valentino found out about this atrocity, he hatched a plan: to get rid of Caterina's partner once and for all. A week after his plan occurred, Caterina decided to visit the new man's apartment and drink with him for the night. Val snuck into the apartment and planted several bombs in the 3rd floor, where Caterina and the new man were. Once the bombs went off and caused a fire, he realized that he didn't just kill the man, he killed Caterina, and with frustration, he gave in to the fire, quite literally.

Vox: I legit thought he was from the 2010s and not the 50s because of his whole motif and flat-screen head, so I made him a gamer/hacker/internet troll from the 2010s. When he was young, he enjoyed playing video games and begged to get a gaming chair and a bigger screen. Once he did, he realized he felt more comfortable there, but still wanted more, so his parents got him a new computer. Once he got older, he started developing a screen addiction and an obsession over over-processed foods. He refused to barely move from his gaming room and his parents barely cared. They gave him snacks, and unhealthy foods, considering they were too lazy to cook. They constantly left him there and they didn't care about what their son would become. Considering he barely cared about anything in life, besides his unhealthy addictions and barely went out, he lived with his parents even after the age of 18. It was just Vox and his precious video games, until he went online and started learning the art of hacking. Once he learned how to code all by himself (which didn't take very long, considering he was very tech-savvy), he got to the point where he started posting leaks of upcoming games, threatened anyone who tried to stop him, even telling them to kill themselves, not knowing what problems the users were dealing with, and even went to the point where he hacked the government. Vox was arrested and soon died later on in prison from his unhealthy diet.

Mimzy: She was a jazz singer who went to multiple clubs and bars during the 20s. She was very popular during the time but had her own issues. Years before, her husband got sick and she spent every penny to try and save him, but she couldn't. Due to her frustration, she started working as a singer to earn money and help her children. She was willing to do anything for them, even sacrificing her life so they can have a better life than she ever did. It was all going well until she found a specific bar she became fond of. Unfortunately, she wasn't paid well, due to the manager telling her that she's paid "what she's worth". The reason why she was paid little to no money, even though her fans enjoyed her music, was because of her appearance. The manager had a history of fat-shaming individuals and paying them due to their appearance. Until one day, Mimzy couldn't take it any more and decided to kill herself, knowing what would happen. She took the money that her manager kept stashed and gave it to her kids, before out of frustration, killed her manager and then turned the bullet to her head.

#kylo rambles #anti vivziepop #trashbin hotel #anti hazbin hotel #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #hazbin hotel rewrite #In my rewrite Val just blackmails Angel Dust and he's a telepath that takes advantage of it and reads Angel's mind and says he'll expose #His secrets and is forced to go out with him

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iboatedhere · 1 year ago

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thank you for the tag @kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes @orchidscript & @lemonlyman-dotcom

Attempting to get the doctor AU going.

They had met–unofficially–at a conference Alex’s first year out of med school. Alex was poised to give a speech about the effectiveness of intra-aortic balloon pumps in cardiac shock patients, something he had spent months preparing for. He was ready and he was confident. He had been thriving under pressure his whole life and public speaking wasn’t something that ever fazed him.

But something snapped inside of him as he watched more and more people file into the conference hall. He wasn’t in school anymore and these people weren’t his classmates getting ready to listen to his valedictorian speech. They were professionals. They had been in the game for years—they were experts in their fields, and who the fuck was he to show up and act like he could teach them something? They would see right through him. They would think he was a fraud. They would tell him to his face that he couldn’t hack it, all this hard work and sacrifice would have been for nothing.

Alex broke out in a cold sweat, the speech crumpled in his hand as he closed his fist around it, smearing the ink of the words he so carefully thought out.

By the time he made it to the closest men’s room he could barely breathe. His chest was tight and his vision was spotty and he had accepted that he was going to die beside the urinals on the fourth floor of a DoubleTree by Hilton hotel.

Eyes closed and head tipped back against the cool tiles behind him, Alex was prepared to meet his maker when the door swung open. Assuming it was the Grim Reaper coming to take him, Alex cracked an eye open and was met not with a specter cloaked in black holding a scythe, but a tall, blond man in a well-cut suit.

A Meet Joe Black scenario, then. He could deal with that.

Alex drew his knees back against his chest and the man dropped to his directly in front of him.

“My name is Henry, I’m a doctor,” he had said and even on his last leg, Alex found the strength to roll his eyes.

“No shit, we all are,” he had wheezed before rattling off his symptoms because fuck if he knew what was happening inside this fogged up brain.

“I believe you’re having a panic attack,” Henry had said and Alex shook his head.

“I don’t get those.”

“That tends to be the case for most people,” Henry started, “until of course they do.”

Henry raised his hands slowly, the intent to reach out for him clear. Alex surprised the both of them when he bridged the gap and wrapped his fingers around Henry’s wrists, not wanting to be touched, but desperately needing it.

Henry, with his perfect hair and blue eyes and calming British accent, talked him through breathing exercises and had him focus on anything but the feeling of dread that had been clawing at his chest.

Slowly, it got easier to breath and his body stopped shaking and he was able to stand on his own two feet again.

Henry had lingered after, handing Alex paper towels to dry his face after he splashed himself with water and nodded his approval as Alex fussed with his hair in the mirror.

Alex never thought to be embarrassed until Alex caught Henry’s eye at the networking event long after the speech was over.

Alex was going to thank him, properly, for saving his ass, but Henry turned abruptly to the man he was standing with (whose maroon suit stood out beautifully against the sea of black and white) and muttered something that made the man look Alex over with an arched brow.

He said something back to Henry who immediately shook his head and walked off and Alex burned.

He still does, given the way Alex’s hackles rise and he needs to bite his tongue every time he sees the man which is, unfortunately, often.

#firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb #rwrb fic #Doctor AU #btw if there are any actual doctors out that that look at anything within this au and notice an inaccuracy.....#let me remind you you took an oath to do no harm and pointing it out to me would harm me greatly #i'm a ding-dong fic writer #i'll research all damn day for a fic but I won't ever understand the medical world #I'M DOING MY BEST

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teecupangel · 1 year ago

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Thoughts on Desmond/Aiden Pearce from watch dogs

Well, I happen to like Aiden so I am obligated to say that they would make a good pairing.

Although, Aiden’s path of revenge happened along the time period of Black Flag’s modern day setting (and we’re setting them in the same universe, fuck whatever Ubisoft says) so around 2013.

We can set their meeting as somewhere before 2012 then.

Perhaps during one of his hacking ‘sessions’ with Damien, they got a lot of money and they decided to celebrate in Bad Weathers. That’s where he and Desmond first met and they grew close.

In this one, Desmond and Aiden started dating before 2012 and Desmond became one of the few people Aiden loved.

Now, Aiden and Damien would attempt and fail to hack the Merlaut Hotel on Oct 2012 but… before that…

Desmond disappeared on September 1, 2012.

Maybe Aiden even sees it happening but is unable to save Desmond because Cross jumped on him and knocked him out, only leaving him alive because the order was ‘no bloodshed’.

When Aiden wakes up, the trail had run cold and Aiden spends the entire month trying to find him.

Finally getting a hit… in Italy.

Desmond’s phone was in Italy.

So, before Damien could even pull Aiden to helping him hack Merlaut Hotel…

Aiden had already booked a flight to Italy.

On Desmond’s side… having a very techie boyfriend has some upsides.

Like… knowing a trick or two to bypass certain surveillance and security programs embedded in computers and see the good stuffs.

So by the time that he had relived Altaïr’s fourth memory block, Desmond already knew about Project Siren and about Subject 16.

He also knows…

He needs his phone back.

While he can’t fully understand them (hell, the most he understands is that Aiden modified his phone to have apps that lets him hack to other devices connected to the internet or to any other type of connection with really easy UI. Desmond mainly uses it to force the lights to turn red so he can cross), he does know… that phone is the key he needs to get the fuck out of this place.

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coffeecat1983 · 4 months ago

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Luigi's Mansion 3: "A Friend in the Biz" pt 2

Pt 1 here

The elevator dinged and the door slid open. Gasping wheezes came from the figure who entered. He didn't even notice that the button he had retrieved had flown from his pocket and locked into place. Instead of tapping it, he hit floor nine, nearly falling from the effort of reaching up. From the tank on his back a concerned warble came from the green goo. On the ninth floor, tucked away in the editing room, Morty hummed to himself as he worked on his film. He was so lost in his project that he didn't see the white form that darted through the door until it let out a sharp bark. "Oh! Pup, what are you..." Morty paused, "What is it? Where's Luigi?" he asked. Polterpup whimpered and spun before barking at the director and darting out the door. His project forgotten, the ghost shot out and down the hall as he followed the little dog. Whipping around the corner he arrived as the elevator doors opened and Luigi stumbled out. The young man was deathly pale, his chest heaving as he gasped. Morty caught him before he could fall. "Great stars! What happened?" Luigi shook his head, unable to answer as the poltergust slid from his shoulders. Morty caught it and after slinging it over his shoulders, he scooped Luigi up and flew back to the editing room with Polterpup right behind him. Once inside he carefully laid Luigi down on the thin cot that he kept to rest on when taking a break. In the soft light, he could see sweat glistening on his forehead and dark circles under his eyes. Rage began to build and the specter's eyes glowed as he shot out of the room and up to one of the security cameras. "Gravely! What did you do to him?!" "Oh, nothing." Hellen's voice echoed around the room. "He just got a taste of the poison that Serpci specializes in. That's what little bugs get when they creep where they shouldn't." Morty's eye color shifted to a violent, blood red as the fury within him grew. His fists clenched, trembling as he stretched and doubled in size. Electricity crackled around him and the floor began to shake, the tremors traveling up the walls. "I warned you, I warned not to harm him!" he snarled. Hellen darted out of her seat with a sharp gasp. The shaking from the studio climbed up, hitting her penthouse floor and a few of her TVs cracked from the strain. A growl and the hotel hostess forced her own power downward, expanding the barrier from the elevator to the studio's ceiling to block Morty out. "Stop that you meddlesome movie HACK!" she shot back. "It won't kill him, I need him alive! I just wanted to show him he won't win!" Smoothing down her hair, she pulled out her powder kit and began applying more to her face. "It's painful but it wears off. Eventually." she snapped the case shut. "And Morty, cross me again and I will have my beloved King lock you in a painting!" He calmed a little but kept his glare focused on the camera. "Try me." he dared. "Wench." Her scream of anger echoed throughout the hotel.

Pleased with himself, Morty returned to the Editing Room. Polterpup was seated at the end of the cot and he whimpered as the ghost took a seat beside the bed. Luigi stirred, a soft moan escaping him. Glazed eyes, sapphires robbed of their bright shine peered out from beneath heavy lids. "M-Mario? Yo-You got 'way." A faint smile crossed the young man's face. Confused by the mumblings, Gooigi popped out of his container and stood nearby with a faint burble. "Thought I was, was gon' have ta save you." Luigi cringed. "H-Hurts... Ev'thin' hurts, big b-bro." "Hallucinating." Morty said softly. "There must be something..." he darted out of the room and the goo creature and ghostly pup heard him rustling around and racing about the room. The door opened and he backed in with his hands full. A pillow was tucked under one arm with a glass in hand, a pitcher of water held in the other. A blanket and a washcloth were draped over his shoulders. It wasn't much later that Luigi was settled in with the pillow, the blanket set aside when Morty realized he was running a high fever. "If there was just a way..." he pondered. He glanced at Gooigi and an idea hit him. "You, you're made of goo, right?" Gooigi gave a wobbly nod and burbled. Taking his hand, Morty hummed. "Yes, yes you're cool to the touch, just what we need!" He reached out and took the creature's hand. "Come here, place your hand on his forehead." Puzzled but eager to help, Gooigi did as he was asked. Luigi shivered slightly at the cool touch. "Perfect!" Morty praised. "Can you move, ripple a little, something to draw the heat off?" Catching on, Gooigi purred happily and relaxed so his hand and fingers flattened and slowly swirled to keep cool. A soft sigh as Luigi drifted into sleep. Morty sat back in his chair. "I wish there was more I could do." he muttered. "But all we can do is wait."

"Luigi, c'mon Weege," Mario called through the darkness. "You gotta wake up." "Mm, Mario?" Luigi mumbled, waking. Polterpup yipped happily and Gooigi pulled his hand back with a pleased purr as Luigi sat up, rubbing his head. "What happened?" he muttered. "Morty?" he blinked and looked around. "How did I get back here? I was... there was sand, and snakes." Morty slumped back with relief. "You were poisoned, my young star. It seems like it wore off, though." Luigi stared at him and the memories came back. "That's right, I was so scared. I couldn't figure out where to go but I remembered you said it was safe here." "You certainly gave us all a fright. How are you feeling?" The young human paused and seemed to take stock of himself. "Okay, I think. A little tired." Standing, he wobbled a little, the sight of it making Gooigi burble as he wobbled in turn. Morty darted up. "Are you sure you should be up?" "Thanks, Morty, but I gotta go. My friends, my bro, they need me." A look of kindness was on the ghost's face. "I understand. The love of a sibling can surpass all." he floated aside as Luigi picked up the poltergust and Gooigi slid back into his tank. "Be careful out there, my friend." Morty urged. "And remember if you need to..." "I'll come back here." Luigi confirmed. He then checked his communicator. "Oh weird, how did this get turned off? Gadd's not gonna be happy." Gooigi trilled innocently in his tank as the Professor's worried voice crackled over the machine, demanding to know what was going on as Luigi made his way out of the room and back to the elevator. "Bye, Morty, and thanks." Luigi waved as the doors shut. The ghost waved back and once the doors closed, he shot a hateful glare at the security camera.

"I don't like this, he shook the building." King Boo grumbled. Hellen stared at the screen, trailing her long fingers over Polterkitty's back. The cat stretched and yawned at her touch before jumping down. "Patience my beloved majesty," Hellen purred. "That barrier I put in place will hold our little director. We won't have any more trouble from him." King Boo snarled as he floated out of the room. "You better be right."

END

By "CC"

#fanfic #luigi #super mario bros #luigi's mansion 3 #hellen gravely #Morty the ghost director #king boo #Gooigi #polterpup

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brilliant-red-eternity · 1 year ago

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[Psycho-Pass Providence spoilers]

I thought long and hard about sharing spoilers with you on my blog, but here they are: a buffet for Shinkane fans! I can’t guarantee that the spoilers are 100% correct since I haven’t seen the movie myself and translations can be messy, but I try my best – feel free to correct me, to add things or to call me a crackpot and liar!

I had a feeling that many of you would like to know (at least to some extent) what this movie is about and if Shinkane becomes canon. It will probably take some time for PPP to be released outside Japan and as we all know, patience is a virtue. Don’t read if you don’t want spoilers. I’m serious! There are major spoilers in this text! But if you don’t mind, here’s a summary of what I picked up from Japanese fans who have already seen the movie:

1. The first meeting with Unit One after Ko’s return goes as expected: Ginoza is angry and Sugo has to prevent him from going off on Kogami. The atmosphere between Akane and Kogami is described as awkward and tense even when working together on the new case. They travel to Dejima (?) and Saiga accompanies Akane because he’s the only one who can access the Stronskaya document.

2. When Kogami and Saiga have a drink in the apartment/hotel, Saiga urges Ko to contact Akane and to come clean with her. He obeys by calling her. Akane tells him to apologize (“I just want you to say sorry”) but he doesn’t, so she hangs up the phone. Kogami seems to be very irritated and I can’t wait to see his face. Also what is the meaning of the empty liquor bottle on Ko’s table?

3. Ginoza asks Kogami on the boat “Why did you come back? It was our duty to protect Tsunemori” to which Kogami answers something like “For someone else’s sake again.” Does it mean that he came back for Akane? I think so. Ginoza seems to smile a little when he hears this.

4. We already saw the scene where Ko shields Akane from the explosion, but I don’t know exactly what happens afterwards. They say the angle of view is a little erotic (this can also be translated as horny, obscene) LOL

5. When the Peacebreakers attack, Saiga-sensei dies. I think he gets stabbed and then falls over a railing into the depths of the building. Akane tries to save him but he lets go of her hand so that she doesn’t fall with him. Phew! This is going to be hard to watch. No wonder why the Japanese fans cried! When Akane finds his dead body, the one who comforts her is Ginoza. Ko goes after Akira to fight him in a landscape holo room (?) aka that scene with the horse.

6. Now the elevator scene. Akane cries over the death of Saiga but Kogami seems unable to comfort her. Something holds him back (his own grief maybe?) so he just pats her on the shoulder saying something like “Focus on your duty, and cry after everything is over” and Akane says “Yes”. It sounds a bit heartless and reserved, doesn’t it? Why all the drama?

7. Then there’s an interrogation at SAD or PSB headquarters and Kogami gets shot by the arrested Akira whose consciousness was hacked. Ko ends up in the hospital where Akane visits him and finally they talk to each other and come to an agreement. This is very reminiscent of PP1.

8. I was a bit surprised to hear that Akane is invited to Kei’s wedding and that Arata’s dad commits suicide in his car after giving a speech. Really? On the wedding day of his son’s best friend? Did Arata witness this? Holy sh--! At least, I read that Akane followed Arata into the parking lot and perhaps was able to comfort him.

9. Akane leads the operation to stop the Peacebreakers. Before she leaves (gets on the plane?) Kogami is worried and says “Hey, don’t do anything reckless” and she replies “I can’t promise you that, so you better come quickly please.” Is she flirting with him? I think it’s cute and quite self-confident.

10. When Akane is defeated in the fight against the white haired man who points a gun to her head, Kogami rushes to her aid. The plan was to arrest the guy but things went out of hand. Kogami shoots him and then he hugs the injured Akane – yes, that’s what it says in the comments! I can’t wait to see this! I read that Akane says something like “I made Kougami-san kill again” to which he answers “And I will be held accountable for it”. The hug seems to have been a request from director Shiotani, because (as we already know) Akane and Ko won’t see each other for a long time after that.

11. The end is a bit confusing and I’m not sure if I got it right: Kogami is arrested and Akane writes him a letter that is just as emotional as Ko’s letter in PP1. She says that he had a great influence on her life and that she can’t promise him anything. Then she goes off to kill chief Kasei during some public event (?) because Sibyl wants to introduce a new bill that would strip the Ministry of Justice of all authority (?). Akane’s crime coefficient is low because you can’t kill a cyborg. But from the public’s perspective, she’s a killer. She seems to sacrifice herself for the dream of a just society that abides by the law instead of Sibyl’s despotism. Now Sibyl has to judge her. They have to reveal and explain her low CC without looking like idiots. Good luck, Sibyl! Akane seems to have set a precedent in PPP.

12. Kogami goes free and Akane is sent to the isolation facility where she finally breaks down and cries. He promises to pick her up when she is released – and so he does in FI when he finally manages to apologize! Some fans say that even though Kogami’s crimes aren’t punished by law it’s clear from his emotions that Akane’s imprisonment is his punishment. His actions had an impact on others, especially on someone he cherishes and loves. But unlike Kogami who killed out of revenge and violated the law, Akane has committed a crime in order to uphold the law. The Japanese fans cried at the end. Kogami must look pretty miserable! Seems as if Shinkane has a habit of breaking each other’s hearts and ours too, huh? But we know they will reunite in FI, so there’s hope! And who knows what the future holds.

Well, the movie covers many issues: foreign politics, references from the bible, Bifrost, new technology and AI, lots of action and so on. It’s quite exhausting to do research in Japanese as a beginner, so I only focused on the things I wanted to know. In other words: Akane, Kogami, Ginoza and Shinkane! I can’t wait for this movie to be released in my country, although I think it will probably be another year :’(

One last thing: speculations about the nature of the relationship between Akane and Kogami are running wild on social media again but all I can say is that if only a mere 20% of the above is true, then you can’t speak of platonic. Sorry, it’s not possible! There are far too many emotions, far too much awkwardness here that you don’t go through as “just friends”. They’re not a couple, but both of them are probably aware that they could become one if they chose to.

#psycho pass #ppp #spoilers #shinkane #akane tsunemori #kougami shinya #psycho pass providence

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