#also I could probably clean this up but I need to go!

[gracie-eilish]

study break {part two}

warnings: contains mild smut - fingering r! receiving, dumbification if you squint really hard without glasses on

an: i freaking love this trope🤓 pls lmk if you want more of them bc they’re adorable to me:))))))))))))

also this will probably be the last smut fic i write for a teensy weensy bit!! idk i’ve just been feeling weird writing smut lately!! im not deleting any smut requests already in my inbox though so fear not, i’ll probably write them later hehe :)

pairing: jock!billie x nerd/student!reader part one

You were completely at her mercy, your breath shallow, your heart racing.

“You—” You swallowed.

“What baby? Cat got your tongue, hm?” She smirked watching you struggle to speak, your big eyes shifting on hers.

“You’re a menace,” you finally squeaked out.

“And you love it,” she whispered against your lips, kissing you again, deeper this time, as she carried you effortlessly toward your bedroom.

Just before she reached the door, she smirked against your lips. “By the way,” she murmured, her voice dropping an octave, “you’re not getting any sleep tonight, baby.”

And with that, she kicked the door shut behind her...

... and crashed her lips onto yours making you squeak in surprise.

The air was thick with anticipation as Billie lay you down on the soft silk sheets, your heart racing with excitement and a hint of nervousness.

"Bils," you whined, grabbing at her top, trying to pull it off.

"Patience, baby girl. Wanna take it slow, yeah? Let me help you relax for once. Turn that pretty brain off for a bit," she purred, leaning in to kiss just below your ear. "Can you do that for me, sweet thing? Can you relax for me?"

You were goo in her hands, like pure honey as she looked at you hungrily yet so softly. You nodded without blinking, jaw going slack watching her smirk.

"Nah uh baby, you know better. Need words, mama." You squirmed in her grasp and whined making her chuckle cockily, poking her cheek with her tongue.

"Yes, Bils, just need you please touch me," you rambled, making her giggle and lean back in.

"Sshhhh, honey, let me love on ya," her whispers made goosebumps appear on your skin as she started to push your top up and off of you.

Slowly, she helped you sit up a bit so she could remove your sweater, revealing a dainty lace bra decorating your breasts.

"Did you wear this on purpose?" she teased, knowing she was usually the one to initiate sex and not the other way around. Your face flushed burgundy.

"No, I haven't done laundry because I've been studying, so I didn't have any normal bras clean, so I had to wear- oh!" She cut off your adorable rambling with a trail of kisses from your jaw to your breasts.

"It's perfect, princess," she mumbled into your skin, looking up at you through her lashes.

One by one, the remaining layers flew off of both of you, only stopping once so Billie could admire the matching underwear you had on. For such a quiet little thing, you always surprised Billie with your wild side.

"My sweet girl," Billie purred, her voice low and full of promise. She sat back on the bed, revealing her luscious body to you. Her full breasts were barely covered by a black lace bra, and a matching thong accentuated her slender waist and round hips. "Are you ready for me, baby?"

Your shyness melted away under Billie's intense gaze.

"Yes, Billie," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "I'm ready, Mommy." The pet name slipped out, a sign of your submission, and Billie's eyes lit up with delight.

"That's my good girl," Billie cooed, leaning over to capture your lips in a searing kiss. Her tongue invaded your mouth, demanding and passionate, leaving you breathless. Billie's hands roamed freely, caressing your thighs, teasingly close to your core.

As the kiss deepened, Billie's touch became more daring. She slid her hand beneath your bra, cupping your soft breast, thumb stroking the hardening nipple. You arched into her touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Billie's fingers deftly unhooked the flimsy garment, baring your flawless body to her hungry gaze.

"You're so beautiful, my angel," Billie whispered, her breath hot against your skin as she trailed kisses down your neck, pecking the marks she left earlier. "So shy, yet so eager. I love seeing you like this, wanting me."

Your body trembled as Billie's lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. "P-please, Billie..." you pleaded, your hands tangling in Billie's hair, urging her downward.

Billie chuckled, the sound filled with lust. "Patience, my sweet.

With that, she nipped at your sensitive skin, making you squirm. "You gonna call me Mommy all night, aren't you, baby?"

You nodded, face flushed. "Yes, Mommy," you whispered, your voice steadying as you embraced your submissive role.

Billie's fingers trailed down your body, pausing at the waistband of your lace panties. She gently tugged them down, exposing your glistening pussy. "So wet already," she murmured, admiration in her voice. "You want me inside you, don't you?"

Your cheeks burned, but you nodded eagerly. "Yes, please, Mommy. I want you so badly."

Billie's fingers danced over your folds, teasing your clit, making you squirm with need. "Tell me what you want, baby," she urged, her touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I-I want your fingers inside me, Mommy," you gasped, your voice laced with desperation. "Please, touch me..."

With a wicked grin, Billie complied, sliding two fingers deep into your tight heat. Your back arched off the bed as a wave of pleasure hit you.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, your body already sensitive and responsive.

Billie's touch was firm and relentless. She pumped her fingers in and out, twisting them to hit your sweet spot with each thrust.

"That's it, my good girl," she growled, her breath hot against your ear. "Let me hear you. Scream for me."

Your cries filled the room as Billie's skilled fingers worked your body into a frenzy. Your hips bucked wildly, seeking more of Billie's touch.

"Faster, Mommy! Please, don't stop!"

Billie added a third finger, stretching you deliciously. "You like that, huh, baby?" she asked, her voice rough with desire. "You love being filled by Mommy's fingers."

"Yes! Oh, God, yes!" You panted, your eyes rolling back as pleasure overwhelmed you. "I love it, Mommy. I'm so close..."

Billie's thumb found your clit, circling it relentlessly as she finger-fucked you with abandon.

"Come for me, my sweet girl," she demanded, her voice commanding. "Let me feel your pussy clench around my fingers."

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over your senses. You cried out, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through you.

"Mommy!" You screamed, your voice hoarse as you climaxed, your pussy contracting around Billie's fingers.

Billie slowed her movements, gently withdrawing her fingers, leaving your body buzzing with satisfaction. She brought her slick fingers up to your lips coaxing you to open, letting you suck your juices off her fingers.

"That's my good girl," she praised, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "You took everything I gave you baby."

You smiled shyly as she slipped her fingers out of your mouth, your eyes glazed with post-orgasmic bliss, chest still heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. "I—I can't believe I did that, Billie. I've never..."

"Never what, sweet girl?" Billie asked, tracing patterns on your naked body, making you shiver.

"I've never been so... vocal," you admitted, your cheeks flushing.

Billie's eyes softened, and she leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

"You did amazing, my angel. I love hearing you scream my name." She chuckled, nipping at your lower lip.

You giggled, your heart fluttering as you felt a newfound sense of empowerment. Billie's hand drifted lower, her fingers brushing against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp. "Don't get comfy yet, princess, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve to keep that brain turned off for a bit, yeah?"

Your eyes widened with anticipation, your body already stirring with renewed desire. "Oh, Mommy," you breathed, your voice a mix of surrender and excitement...

[i-loved-silly]

WAIT, IDEA. imagine mud x gn reader...BUT THE READER IS ALMOST JUST LIKE HIM. like, professional assassin, cocky and well-dressed,,, the SHENANIGANS the two would go through heheheehheh,,,,,,,,,,,,,

omgomgg these are my favorite headcanons. I NEED HIM SO BAF! I could have kept going on and on for this request. tysm :3

MUD X READER WITH SIMILAR PERSONALITY

Mud is used to being the slippery one in the room, at all times. He's sneaky, mischievous, and USUALLY no one notices him when he's doing his stuff. So when he first sees you -- almost a reflection of himself -- it's thrilling in a way. You know your way around with weapons and you know it, dressed like you've got a job to complete, and you're a quick thinker. He's already thinking about how good you'd look as a couple.

One-upping eachother and banter is a love language between you two. He especially loves the banter. However, he WILL be grumbling if you steal his kill. He'll act unimpressed that you acted before he did, shoving down your gun with one hand and aiming with his to take your spot, ignoring your scowl.

"Careful now, hun. Ya' keep showin' off like that, and I'll start gettin' jealous. This one's mine."

Like I said, constant one-upping. You're constantly stealing each other's kills before the other, cussing each other out. Threatening each other over small things. (never acting upon them) If it takes you three shots to hit someone? He'll try to do it in two. With his eyes shut. You see him steal a couple of wallets from the rotlings in the shop? You steal them right out of his pocket again and wave them in his face.

"Keep up, Muddy. You're getting too easy."

"Wha--!? You slippery bastard.."

"Love you too!"

To others your relationship looks a bit conflicting and probably toxic. Maybe sometimes...but I swear you two love each other. It's a bit more fun when you both are doing risky things together for the sake of it.

PDA is basically borderline abusive LMAO. You both insist you aren't going soft, but have to let people know how to not make any moves somehow. He'll be talking and pulling an arm around your shoulder, suddenly pulling you close. You slam into his side and he has the NERVE to ruffle your hair with the bone of his fingers. You'll elbow him right in the ribs for it, to which he busts out laughing.

"Ya' really know how to make a fella feel loved," as he's wheezing.

Ooooo and if you're all dressed up? He loves that about you. The Gaslight District may be nasty but he can always appreciate a good outfit. If he particularly likes your outfit or you're wearing something new (polished shoes, clean coat, shiny pistol,etc) his jaw literally drops. His cig nearly slips out onto the floor while he gives you the slowest once-over, whistling low. He tips his little stupid (<3) hat and approaches you as if he's never seen you before.

"Well aren't you lookin' dapper. I'd marry ya' right now if I didn't think you'd shoot me for askin'."

When you two are behind closed doors, things get toned down a bit. In small moments, the relationship is still playful. You're both sitting together, you'll throw your tired legs over his lap and he'll groan about it, even as he settles his palm against your calf. He'll do the same to you another day, you threaten to break his knees. He dares you. You grumble and look away, both of you looking more domestic than you ever have while sharing that cramped old couch.

Finally!! On missions, the two of you are professional. Deadly pair, if your playfulness doesn't get ahead of you. You'll constantly be yelled at by Ken if you two are messing around, foolishly shooting everywhere while yelling at each other. And yet, he does a great job of protecting you. If anyone messes with you, his gun is already raised before you have the chance to pull out yours. Yeah, you can take care of yourself AND him, but he wants to be the one to put a bullet through their skull first. Isn't he so dreamy!!

He also swoons at the sight of you covered in purple blood to be honest. How could he not be a little freak? Kissing you after a good mission, still covered in grime and blood, just hits different.

[leupagus]

Tentative title is "Dana once offered to spread the rumor that she and Jack were sleeping together just to get the gossipers off his back, but Jack truthfully told her that everyone would know she was too good for him" although it might be a little long

continued from this, because there is nothing funnier than a middle-aged doctor who keeps getting nonconsentually paired up with every hot colleague at his hospital and would like it all to Stop Please.

-

Jack’s used to it, is the thing. Has been for his whole life; he’s the only boy in a family of five, with all the attendant you-must-carry-on-the-family-name expectations. Starting when he was about nine years old, people had questions about every girl he talked to. Ooh she seems nice, oh what’s her name, ooooh do you liiiiiike her? He’d probably be more annoyed about it except for the fact (which his mom liked to remind him at every opportunity) that the first time it ever happened was with Leslie, who he married as soon as he could and stayed married to as long as he could.

Turned out it wasn’t long enough, but the point is that he honestly can’t remember a time when people didn’t take a weird, invasive interest in his personal life.

“What personal life, out of morbid curiosity?” asks Lena, peering at him over her glasses. “Also why are you here?”

It’s 0300 the night of (technically, the morning after) Pittfest; the custodians are still getting the last of the rooms cleaned up after the chaos, but everything else is more or less back to normal. Jack managed to get almost four hours’ sleep before his bum leg prodded at him with phantom pains, the kind that only go away when he’s giving himself some actual pain to focus on. So here he is on his night off, and the charge nurse is giving him shit.

“Ow,” Jack remarks, pressing his hand over his heart. “Starting to feel a little unloved, boss. Didn’t you miss me?”

“Didn’t have a chance to,” says Lena, with a twinkle in her eye. “You left four hours ago, remember?” 

“Like it was a mere four hours ago,” he says agreeably. Lena’s mean as shit to most of the attendings and actively violent with HR, but she’s got a soft spot for Jack, which is usually a good thing.

Except for times like this, when it leads her to add, “But sounds like someone on days loved you plenty.”

“Oh, no,” Jack mutters, and tries to brace for it even as he scans the board — relatively easy night so far, Ellis and Shen and Yao with four patients each and Chairs down to an eight-hour wait. “What’d you hear, boss?”

“I heard that Doctor Mohan was very impressed with you,” Lena coos, just as Shen goes striding past.

“Woah, we talking about Sam? Dude,” Shen says, and offers what Jack assumes are very supportive finger guns. “She was talking about that little warzone crike kit you pulled out for hours. So after you guys left, did you and her—” He makes little pah-pow noises, his eyebrows raised interrogatively.

“You call her Sam?” Jack says, not sure if he’s more disconcerted by the noises, the nickname, or by the brand-new rumor that he’s shtupping Mohan. “And no, we didn’t, and no,” he adds, turning to point at Lena, “she wasn’t. Isn’t.”

“Wasn’t isn’t what, hon?” Lena asks innocently. 

Ellis, walking past with Janie, slows down with a way-too-alert expression on her face. “Who wasn’t isn’t?”

“Nobody,” says Jack, at the same time as Shen says, “Sam,” and Lena says, “Doctor Mohan,” with relish.

“Ohhh, so that’s finally happened?” asks Janie, clasping her hands together. Jack hates all of them and is going to ask for a transfer to a hospital in Anchorage. Or Mars, that weird rich guy must need doctors for colonizing Mars, right?

“No, it hasn’t happened,” he says, as level as he can manage. “Just like it hasn’t happened with… let’s see, last year it was Dr. McKay, year before that it was Nurse Jesse, year before that it was you,” he points to Ellis, who looks as grossed out as he’d been at the time. “Yeah. So thank you to all my yenta people—” he’ll have to ask Robby about the plural of yenta is— “but Dr. Mohan and I are not dating, nor are we…whatever that finger guns thing was supposed to imply.”

“It was supposed to imply fucking,” Shen says helpfully.

“You know, they had a betting pool on the two of us at one point,” he says, just for the joy of seeing all the color drain out of Shen’s face. Then multiple GSWs come sailing in from the ambulance bay and they’ve got to deal with that, and he hasn’t even put his bag down yet.

[fallloverfic]

Thoughts on To Be Hero X Episode 4: The Commoner

Well that was an interesting episode!

Inertia is still such a wonderful song. So is Paragon, Nice's theme. The different animation styles were again beautiful to watch.

I felt so bad for him. He's so defeated. He wants to help Moon so badly.

Blankster's ability to erase memories coupled with punching stuff hard felt really random until you realize that's his whole thing: erasing the knowledge of his past and hiding the reality (of him putting metal in his gloves). Treeman, I assume, got people to believe him into having those specific abilities by making him essentially a cleaner? I guess? I don't know. How specific abilities are brought about is a bit of a mystery. Maybe possibility manifests and trust encourages it to varying degrees of strength.

It was a bit distracting hearing "iron fist" and trying to not think of the Marvel Comics character lol

Lin Ling's fight is so wonderful. He pushes so hard for the person he cares about. And I do love the strong message that anyone can be a hero. Firefighters (as with Firm Man) don't need superpowers to be heroes: they run into burning buildings and rescue people all the time (sometimes when it's dangerous). Someone standing up to someone else threatening to kill someone doesn't need a superpower to stand up. To win, maybe, depending on the circumstances, but to stand up? To say no? You don't need a superpower for that. You can just be a normal person to look a wrong in the face and go, "No. I won't let this stand. I may die fighting it, but I go down doing what's right." Or, to quote J. Michael Stracznyski in “Amazing Spider-Man” #500, "What matters is you go down fighting… and you go down clean.”

It was also really funny when Lin Ling punched Enlighter's shirt off alkdjladjlaj

The audience reaction is very interesting. They expected rules to be followed here. Why isn't the Commission doing something? That's just an ordinary guy, there are rules here. So it seems like people are aware there's an aspect of performance to this. The actors are the heroes, playing along to the tune set by followers. (Or they just reasonably don't think an ordinary dude can win against a guy with superpowers and expect an actual super-powered person to show up and get Lin Ling out of there and save Moon instead). Makes the fact people can get literally murdered all the weirder, though in reality we do have plenty of people who treat lives like reality television. The number of folks who expect laws to be self-enforcing is, well...

It's nice to know those of us assuming it was a fake Moon were right, though it's funny in a way that even the great Enlighter couldn't find her (assuming he tried, though it was a risky gambit: after all, for all he knew, they could have contacted her to make sure she was safe, though he did have the backup plan of revealing Lin Ling's identity). I guess his abilities were brought to a standstill by hers, in that instance? He can find things but she went to a place where nobody knew her?

I know KFC is really big in China, and maybe this has been shown somewhere else, but I think it's really funny X is a KFC mascot.

He really is that younger hot Colonel Sanders from the Genshin Impact promotion.

The ad art is really beautiful (the official twitter posted a fuller shot of it). If anyone reading this has found the actual art that's used for this without the extra stuff, let me know. Lin Ling looks great.

I'm not averse to the title, either. I get the idea is "he's just some guy". I just think it's kind of funny because that's true for... literally everyone lol I assume some of these folks come from money, which probably helped them get trust (easier to get spotlight if you have the time, resources, and connections), but I think it's funny Lin Ling is getting special focus as the True Commoner lol

I feel so bad for Moon, trapped on a deserted island. How horrible. This show is all just "what if we took some of the worst ways this idea (e.g., wishes worded badly) could be acted out and that was reality?"

I like the new outfit. It looks really pretty. Love me a good white/black aesthetic, and his little hair stripe looks even better outside the ED.

This does raise the question: is Moon's power hers or the gun? Do people believe in the gun? Yes, these heroes use equipment a lot of the time, and people believe they can use the equipment to do magical things, but it's... interesting that Lin Ling (and presumably anyone else who gets a hold of the gun) can use it, too.

Also, why didn't he use the gun earlier lol Was everyone just too worried to think about it? Did they assume it wouldn't work because Moon was right there? The alternative is that everyone believed the fake Moon was Moon so hard that the gun only led to the fake (similar to how people believed Lin Ling was Nice so hard he became Nice) but then why didn't Lin Ling use the portal to get to Enlighter that way, or was he still stopped by the crowd telling him not to go?

But... Moon is dead now. The "preview" we saw in Episode 1 happened to be real, because she's in the same pose, same injury. I guess folks wondering if Nice/Lin Ling could see the future maybe have more crumbs for that. If he can see the future, though, why? Where does that play into his powerset? Again, if powers are random and just a matter of "you get what you get" and then the audience gives enough trust to make them stronger, maybe it's just a minor ability of his. It does beg the question if it's a Lin Ling special ability or if Nice could somehow see the future, too. Lin Ling came up with the anyone can be a hero concept, which seems to be foreshadowing. But what did Nice see if he had the ability? Did he see himself unavoidably bringing about Moon's death and tried to stop it? Or something worse?

It looks like E-Soul murdered Moon. Was he hired by Treeman to clean up loose ends? Mr. Shand wanted to wipe Moon's memories before to protect Lin Ling's identity from being shared, but that seems moot at this point. Or does Moon, who knew about Nice and Moon's fake relationship, still hold value as a target to be removed? Or, if this isn't Treeman, does E-Soul hold animus against Moon and Lin Ling for what's happened? Or is he just targeting the person who might be targeting him to rise in the ranks (given E-Soul is #9 and Lin Ling is #10 in the rankings)? Or is that the alternate version of E-Soul in his character trailer who attacks people or something?

Whatever the case, I'm sad Moon is dead. She wanted her freedom, and yet again, didn't get it, had a chance at finally being rescued... and then... that. Consequences and stakes, I guess?

I am still wondering (like I imagine a lot of people) what this from the director meant:

It actually seems to appear when Enlighter is beating up Lin Ling, especially when he says "Die die die", though the pose is more similar to this one:

Why I'm bringing this up at the end instead of in the part where I was talking about the fight: if Lin Ling snaps after Moon's death in Episode 5, maybe that's where the shot on twitter will pop up, maybe as some kind of flashback to, as folks have theorized, the Hero Smile incident. Although people have commented it's likely trolling from the director in line with previous stuff he did on Link Clink (hence why it's Enlighter who seems to be doing it, not Lin Ling or Nice), Nice is smiling in that image, and if there's some weirdness with Hero Smile's abilities that makes you smile like that, well... Plus, Moon being murdered, especially after all that Lin Ling is done, seems likely to make him snap if anything. And maybe go, "Kill them all."

Anywho. Episode 5 looks to be full of things!

More thoughts:

Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4 (You are here)

[n0t-evenhere]

I have some headcannons about ray's living space so, I have drawn out his Lincoln space as how I imagine it! Head canons below the pictures to go with it. Just a bit of a lay out.

The left side of the house is the entry side

-Ray’s home is very miserable looking. Very colorless. The only color is from random painting in the house. It is the furthest thing from homely. The colors are very dull too. Grey walls, and blue furniture. Very basic.

-the most colorful things in his house are the spices in his kitchen. He’s has little spice holders that spin around. He has a whole plethora of spices.

-his kitchen leads to his balcony, a large one. The NAHA had the balcony put in so that he can get directly to work if he needs to from home. So he also has a clear view of the city.

The balcony has very little to it, it made of wood with metal plates under it to keep it in place.

-sometimes Ray sit out there during his days or nights off. He hates how the light block out a lot of the stars. So he’ll elect to fly up there himself to see the stars.

-didn’t draw it but there is a small stair case leading from the balcony to his room. He personally put that end so he can go straight of his room instead of walking thought the house and upstairs.

Right side of my he first floor

-I whole hearty believe that the NAHA requires Ray to have an extra sleeping room because of trainees. Depending on the trainee, I think the NAHA has NO problem throwing them in to his home with Ray for a bit. Something he isn’t fond of. He hates that he could have his living space confiscated any moment.

-Ray’s work out room is required as well, the NAHA requires him to at least get four to eight hours a week in. Which is quite the struggle with such a busy schedule but he manages to do it.

-he prefers of work out at night.

The upper flower

-the whole upstairs is his room. Large and spacious.

-looking at the top of the picture where its label “window”, that whole wall is glass window, one the very left end of it is a sliding door, which leads to the small staircase to the balcony.

-sometimes Ray skips the stairs entirely and just goes to the sliding door directly.

Other:

-I imagine Ray doesn’t actually like his house too lit. So, he doesn’t really use the light switches, he uses standing lamps. His house has so many windows that light reaches his house easily.

- the only place well lit is his kitchen. That’s probably his second favorite place to be beside his bed and shower.

-leave your shoes at the door. Please. Keep your shoes off the carpet.

-he likes to keep his space clean. He spends a bit of his days of dusting, vacuuming, and straightening things up. May be borderline a clean freak.

[loveandmurders]

Red string and crimson hands (Poly!Sinclair brothers x f!reader) - Part IV

Hi everyone, this is the second part of this new soulmate AU requested by @mrstargayen09 . You can find part 1 here, part 2 here and part 3 here.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mention of slutshaming (from Victor), mentions of Trudy being ill, mentions of death

That night, the boys insisted for you to sleep in their house and not in the one you used to live at with your parents. They pretended it was because they hadn’t fully finished cleaning things up, but you knew they were lying. They just wanted you under their roof. For once, Lester was even eager to stay over. You agreed because you trusted them, and you saw how it made them happy.

They were excited puppies around you and you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed their constant attention on you. You were certain something really bad must have happened for you to decide to run away from them. They were attractive, they weren’t shy about their love for you, they wanted to take care of you… They were perfect. And yet you left. It scared you.

What were you going to find out?

You eventually wished them good night and they watched as you climbed upstairs. Jonesy followed you and stayed with you for a little while before going back to the boys. Despite your closed door, you could hear the three men whispering between them. You would have loved to hear what they were saying. 

At first, they talked about how amazing it was to finally have you back, then about how hot you were, and about your memory loss and finally about everything they needed to do (or not to do) to convince you to stay. They agreed, for instance, that they needed to keep tourists away from Ambrose the following day. They couldn't kill anyone else in front of you, they needed to make you forget about all of this or you would leave again. Lester agreed to leave the twins alone with you for the day, but he asked for a moment with you on his own in the evening. The twins weren't too happy they would need to share you during the day, but they would spend more hours with you than Lester, so it was a fair deal.

The next morning, you woke up with a delicious scent of pancakes. When you went downstairs, Bo was cooking breakfast. As you entered the kitchen, you had a flash of a teenage boy preparing pancakes as well. Your young self walked to him and hugged him from behind, thanked him as he warmly smiled at you. You then remembered about a man - his father probably - breaking the moment by telling you were interested in an angry beast who will hurt you. You took Bo’s defence; the man shrugged before saying “you're just a slut for my three sons”. You remembered the shame of such words.

You went back to reality when Bo turned around and greeted you. He noticed the look on your face and frowned.

“Ya ‘kay, love?” he asked

“Yeah, no worries” you tried to smile but he kept looking at you and you remembered Lester begged you to always tell them what was on your mind, unlike before you left them “I think I just had a memory of your father calling me a slut” you finally said and Bo tensed, his fists clenching

“Sorry 'bout that. I should've broken his jaw that day”

“You were still a kid and I’m not so surprised to be treated that way in a small town with three soulmates who also happen to be brothers” you replied, trying to be rational “Pancakes smell good” you added to change the subject as you came closer to the food “You’re the cook of the family?” you asked with a tilted head

“‘M the eldest, that’s my job to take care of my family” Bo replied

“And of your soulmate?” you hummed

“Same thing. Ya didn’t leave ‘cause we weren’t lookin’ after ya” Bo let you know but before you could ask for more Vincent entered the room and you greeted him.

You helped him dress the table and waited for the pancakes to be ready.

“Lester not coming for breakfast?” you wondered

“Lester’s protecting the borders of Ambrose today so no tourist’ll interrupt us” Bo explained

“You casted him away?” you pouted

“No. It’s his job. But tonight he’ll be left alone with ya, for some egality or whatever” Bo rolled his eyes and you laughed

“It does sound fair. You wouldn’t want your brothers to be with me while you would be working away either” you added and Bo couldn’t argue with that. “So the “tourists” are how you call the people coming in Ambrose, the same people you kill?” you asked again and Vincent nodded

You finished your breakfast in silence but you could feel how the twins' attention was all on you. You enjoyed the warmth of it, the tenderness or it too. Vincent was a silent and comforting presence.

You could tell that you spent a lot of time in his arms when you just were feeling a little bit down and needed to snuggle your sadness away. You quite wanted to be a little bit physical with him, but you didn’t dare. You were a stranger to them too, even if they were eager to welcome you back in their lives.

You were a little bit more defiant of Bo who clearly was the seductive southern guy. But at the same time, you were pretty certain that whenever you had nightmares in the middle of the night, you would go and find him, because he could protect you from anything. One thing was certain they were both dangerous people who would kill for you.

You wanted to have a look at the House of Wax. Vincent was pretty excited about it. Bo a lot less but he tagged along, mostly to translate what his twin would want to tell you. You promised yourself you would force your brain to remember ASL.

At some point, you barely listened to Bo anymore, as you walked around the museum. Some of the faces were familiar, like if you had already met them in what could have been a dream.

The smell of wax was completely engulfing you and you remembered more of their mother, Trudy. You remembered she was spending hours with her art. She took Vincent by her side because he was talented but she was ashamed of his face, hence the mask. She had no interest in Lester because he was her last one, and she had so much work to do in the House of Wax before dying from her illness. And she despised Bo. He was handsome, but he was a little monster of a child, always angry, always asking for his Mama’s love when she didn’t have anything to give to the world and her family but her art. She was obsessed. 

She liked you when you were taking Bo and Lester away from her, but she hated you when you were also taking Vincent away, when you were telling her that it wasn’t true that he had a face only a mother could love. She hated that you were able to love her sons, because they didn’t deserve it. And she hated even more how Bo’s fit of angers were calming around you, how Lester wasn’t in need of her attention when you were there, how Vincent was more himself when you gently smiled at him.

You found yourself stopping in front of the sculpture of a man. It was odd because you remembered him being the mailman. He was always observing you four. He even told you one day to stay away from the Sinclairs: the mother was crazy because she was talented, her husband was a cruel doctor and the children had to be monsters. Especially because the day before the brothers had almost beaten to death another teenager, who had touched you and made you feel so small.��

“Love?” Bo placed a hand on your shoulder as you seemed to be frozen in front of the sculpture

“I remember him. You sculpt real people?” you asked and the twins exchanged a look at your phrasing

“Yes, Vincent, and our mother before, take inspiration from people we meet” Bo replied after a little while “Before Ambrose became a total ghost town, Vincent tried his best to reproduce the people who used to live here” Bo continued

“Did you make sculptures of your parents?” you suddenly asked, not even really knowing why

“Just our mother.” Bo said

“And of me and my parents?” you tilted your head to the side as you looked up at Vincent who shook his head

He signed something, and you read one of the words: perfect. Bo translated:

“We were too focused on you to really remember precisely what your parents looked like. And for you, you are way too perfect to be sculpted”

“Smooth talkers” you hummed and looked away, blushing a little

You resumed walking but a thought kept bugging you over and over again:

“What happened to your parents?” you asked

“Our mother died of illness when we were about 17” Bo replied instantly but you noticed how strained his voice was “Her last words and thoughts were for the House of Wax, the masterpiece of her life. She asked Vincent to keep takin’ care of it, no matter what the price’d be.”

“It must have been awful” you softly commented, remembering her funeral in the small church of Ambrose

“It got worse when our father went insane. I guess she was the only thin’ he loved, or felt somethin’ for at least.” Bo shrugged “He died too” Bo added but he didn’t say what he died of, and before you could ask more questions about it, Vincent uncharacteristically boldly reached for your hand to get you on another aisle of the museum.

The gesture alone made you forget about your interrogation.

You spent a fun day with the twins. They kept you entertained quite well and answered most of your questions. You noticed they avoided the church and other parts of the town, but you didn’t mind for the moment. You were happy with them, and they managed to make you feel at ease. 

But truth to be told, you had missed Lester’s presence. You had seen his red string all day, waving in the air for you to follow again. You disliked being away from any of your soulmates.

You could remember that when you were living in Ambrose, you wanted your boys around you all the time, and the three brothers - who weren’t loved and wanted by anyone else - were more than happy to oblige. The more you thought about it and the more you realised that your absence must have been cruel and impossible to fill for them.

The twins groaned when they heard Lester’s truck and you shot them an amused glance. Lester parked and opened the house door, an instantly bright smile lighting up his face as he spotted you.

“Come for a ride?” he offered and you agreed, getting up and putting your shoes back on

“Where goin’? Bo asked his baby brother

“Don’t know, ‘round” Lester shrugged “Don’t have to stay in Ambrose all the damn time. And maybe the girl’d like to grab a snack or somethin’ he offered

“Oh yeah, that would be nice!” you exclaimed

“But ya come back here tonight?” Bo asked again “Both of ya”

“Yes, yes, we both sleep here tonight” you replied before Lester could answer and you saw the twins nodding and relaxing back in their seats.

Lester wouldn’t argue with you but he would have loved to keep you all to himself for the night as well. But he understood that his brothers also needed you under the same roof. After all, you had disappeared from their existences for so long, and knowing you were resting in the same house was bringing them all such a new kind of relief.

You waved the twins goodbye before following Lester to his truck. He started to drive and as you put loud music on, you both started to chat around. You loved how easy to talk Lester was. He was funny and he managed to make you laugh pretty easily. 

“Hope the twins didn’t bore ya to death?” Lester teased

“Nah, they’re good but I’m glad to leave Ambrose for a moment” you admitted

“Why?” Lester frowned

“It’s not about the twins, they’ve been perfect to me” you quickly precised “It’s just… It’s so strange to be in a ghost town filled with wax sculptures. Also the House of Wax woke up quite a lot of memories and it was getting tiring” you admitted to him

“I understand” Lester hummed “I don’t live in Ambrose anymore”

“Which drives Bo crazy” you smiled

“Vincent too. The twins are pretty similar on a lot of thin', but Bo’s always the one voicin’ it. Vincent’s great at manipulatin’ ya though, he smooth talk ya” Lester hummed before realising he could sound bad “I don’t mean…”

“It’s okay, I understand.” you reassuringly smiled “You’re all dangerous people, I don’t really expect less from any of you, including you, Les” you added without realising you used the nickname

“Ya’re as dangerous as us, ‘cause we’re completely wrapped ‘round your little finger, even more when ya use nicknames” Lester told you with eyes shining in happiness

“Ah yes, what’s everyone’s favorite nicknames then?” you asked, curious and Lester let out a little laughter

“Bo likes to call ya “love”, but ya already noticed it.”

“Yeah, he’s not subtle, isn’t he?” you chuckled and Lester smirked

“He likes when ya call him “hon”. Vincent calls ya “muse” and he likes it when ya call him “handsome” for obvious reasons…”

“What happened to him?” you asked

“Bo and Vince were born conjoined twins and our father wasn’t the most careful doctor on Earth. But ya’re really handlin’ it very well so far, askin’ for him to remove his mask ‘round ya and all” Lester was grateful

“Trying my best” you shrugged “What about your nicknames?”

“I like to call ya “sunshine” and ya can honestly call me anythin’” he replied

“But what’s your favorite one?” you insisted as Lester kept looking at the roads

“Darl’ or darlin’ I believe” Lester shyly said and you smiled to yourself

“Thanks for that, I’ll make sure to use it against all of you” you laughed and Lester chuckled with you

“Not expecting any less from ya, sunshine”

--

Part 5

--

Taglist: @staley83 - @joyfulllittlething - @qardasngan

[s0phslibrary]

'we'll be alright'; bakugou x OCD/hypochondriac reader

A/N: this is quite self-insert because ocd has been kicking my ass the last 4 months 😭 especially when what i'd usually be irrational/obsessive over is actually happening, but i don’t have specifics. but yeah, hope you enjoy :p <33 might make a part 2 of this somehow, or other characters

content tidbits: hypochondriac and OCD reader, GN!reader, talk of obsessions and compulsions, fear of illness (cancer mentioned bc that's one of my fears brought on by my own OCD, as well as random body happenings that could be health related), swearing, anxiety/panic attacks, UA bakugou and reader (what year is up to u), therapy/doctors appointments, platonic relationship, intrusive thoughts, reader isn't initially medicated or getting treatment but does through the fic, essentially hurt/comfort and fluff :) also maybe OOC katsuki. also brief mention of possible OCD katsuki

word count: 1.5k

Briefly proofread

Linked this song because it reminds me of how OCD feels :p

it was known to the people you felt close to that you suffered with anxiety- but to what extent?

yourself and bakugou were at a point of closeness and security within your friendship, to where telling him felt alright.

when bakugou found out you had OCD initially, his first thought was just 'oh, they don’t like mess and are a clean freak', because yknow, stereotypes.

but then you told him what it entailed, he took it in. you talked about your persistent health anxieties and scares, the way they plagued you and tormented you.

"That's fucking dumb, though. Like- you'd know if you were actually sick." He'd say.

"But that's the thing, I don't." You explained. "I don't, regardless of symptoms or not, and that freaks me out. And when I can feel something, the only way I can deal with it is to prod or feel at it."

You explained to him some moments this type of thing happened; in one case, you had odd, painless bumps in random places, and the trigger of its unknown cause sent you spiraling. Petrified it was cancer, you went on an internet deep dive, kept seeking external reassurance, feeling at it 24/7- and rather than this helping, all you felt was fear.

The next was a random pain near your rib. Was it a punctured lung? But then a pain on your head- a tumour?? Then your knees felt different sizes- are your bones shrinking???

He listened, trying to recall times you may have been out of it or panicked for what to him, seemed like for no reason. And it started to click. Realising it extended even further than the health anxieties too. Past traumas, or fears, or habits. It made sense. And it made him feel an ache of sadness for you in his chest. But also pride, for the fact you go through this daily.

In saying that, after you left, he went into full research mode on the types of OCD you had talked about, on how they worked, triggers, compulsions, and how to support you.

He wouldn’t admit it directly, but after hearing how it gets to you, then seeing it in real time, made him feel helpless. Until you got support professionally, he was slightly frantic.

He made a promise to be there for you, any time, if you were having a mini episode, or major. Which he didn’t expect to be..... a lot. But he kept the promise.

1:34am the clock on your phone read. You were tired, sore, stressed. Your hand went to the odd shaping on your back yet again, a nervous shiver going through you. You tried to rationalise. 'It's probably just some muscle. Or some kinda benign growth. Or just my body being weird again.

Or maybe it's a tumour-'

The intrusive thoughts kept scratching inside your brain, urging you to keep poking, shifting, looking for an answer you knew wouldn’t come.

You remembered his words: "If you need me when it happens, fucking come to me. I don’t care when, do it. You shouldn’t be alone with this. And don’t you dare feel bad."

Slipping out of bed, you quietly made your way from your dorm to his, careful to not be disturbing to your classmates.

You go to his dorm, and knocked loud enough.

"Fuck off." You heard from behind the door, the angry voice of Katsuki.

"Katsuki? It’s just me. You don’t have to, but I'm having a hard time with my OCD, and wanted to kno-"

Before you could finish the sentence, the door opened. "Get in." He said softly, looking at you half asleep, yet with concern.

Once in, he closed the door, opened the balcony door to let in a soft breeze, and sat on the bed with you. After a moment, he spoke.

"What's it doing now?"

"My brain won’t stop." You respond, voice tight and exhausted. "I keep finding new bumps, or growths, or whatever the fuck, and even though they don’t hurt or do damage, my brain is still saying cancer. Which is dumb, because I'd know if it was by now-"

"It's not dumb." He interupts. "Ok, yeah, worrying about a worst possibility that you don’t even know whether it's true or not is kinda stupid. But don’t beat yourself up over it. It is scary. Not knowing fucking sucks. But none of this is your fault. Yeah, you'd probably know by now. But you're allowed to just observe it, without making it some kind of evil situation. Give yourself some grace, dimwit. You have every right to be scared. Especially since this matters to you so much. But don’t- don’t let it consume you. You know you're fucking strong. So... know regardless, you can beat whatever is going on. Serious or not."

You looked at him, tears of appreciation, but also overwhelm, pooling in your eyes. He scoffed softly, but not in anger, more so in understanding, and pulled you close, both under the covers, and your face to his chest.

"Just cry it out, idiot. You need to at this point."

So you did. Allowing yourself to feel everything, let everything crash out of you, with him anchoring you. He gently eased and shushed you if you started hyperventilating, the crying turning into a spiral of panic. He whispered soft, encouraging words into the top of your head.

"Its okay. You're gonna be okay, regardless of what happens. This isn’t something you'll do alone. We'll get you the help you need, and I'll be here when you need me to. Things will work out how they're meant to. Just because it's scary doesn’t mean it's impossible."

"I know. I know, i'm just so scared. I hate not knowing. I hate feeling like my mind is working against me, and my body is fucking acting on what I'm scared of-"

"Hey, hey, relax. You’re rambling." He says softly, shifting to wipe your tears. "I know. I hear you. As I said, it's no wonder you're scared. Being afraid of something with mixed signal signs of it sounds like hell. But again, one day at a time. You're asking for help- be proud of that. It's fucking hard to even acknowledge it sometimes. You already took the first step."

"That’s kinda rich from you, considering you bottle everything up." You respond, cracking a slight smile.

He laughed a bit, nodding. "Yeah, I know, I'm emotionally constipated, fuck off with what's obvious. But I mean it. Just because I have trouble doing it, and I ain't the best at comforting, doesn’t mean I won't try and help you. I care about you, fuckwad, even if I don’t say it. I really do."

Once settling down, he got you some water, and turned on his TV for some background noise, of something you both enjoy. You sat, talking, about your compulsions, triggers, fears, trauma, all of it. He listened, gave his input, and got what he needed from you in terms of what you wanted in support from him.

That night, with you against his warm frame, he slept well knowing you were there- regardless of what you had going on, he could be there.

And you slept well knowing he was there- knowing that despite any unknown health factors, legit or not, you'd have him.

From there, you decided to start looking into getting professional help. You went to Aizawa, with Katsuki nearby, to let him know of your situation. You came to an agreement that if you ever weren’t in a fit mental state for training or class, he would give you time to catch up, on the condition you would keep consistent with effort. He then informed the other staff of it, so it would be an all around agreement.

Once that was set, you found a place to go to get the help you needed, or at least a start. You started to gain coping strategies, ways to challenge compulsions or triggers, and more to generally work with until you would get advanced help. As for the physical side of things, appointments were booked, so hopefully that would be a steady process also. He vowed to be there throughout the process of getting any required diagnoses as well.

In the meantime, Katsuki was still there. Through any panic attacks, anxiety episodes, reminding you to do something else when he noticed your compulsions, and occasionally yelling at the rest of Class A if a trigger was mentioned when you were near. Which yes, is extreme, but he meant well.

He helped you identify other compulsions and obsessions outside of the hypochondria, and helped take notes on your physical and mental health for future appointments. He even went to your therapist briefly to ask how to support you, and how to work with you in times you couldn’t carry everything yourself.

No matter how hard it was for either of you to battle against the monsters in your mind, and unknown of your body, he kept his promise. You knew you'd be fine as long as you had him, and everyone else who cared for you, at your side.

If you ever feel alone or unsafe, reaching out to someone who will listen, is the first step. You are more powerful and stronger than you know 🩶

[cryingpariah]

(The incredible Sneak-Wave Pirates belong to the equally incredible @inzendino !)

Jackie: Hello Hello!

Rein: If you weren’t a living compass, I’d be concerned you were something of a stalker.

Jackie: Oh I’m much too busy to stalk anyone, though I admit, I've been dying for an introduction to be made with your newest member.

Hati (bursting through door to the deck): Captain! I smell another person on board!

Jackie: Y'know, if it wasn’t for the Mink's uncanny sense of smell I’d be offended by that statement.

Hati: :0! You sound like the nice lady from the phone! Are you really here this time?

Jackie (sitting on deck to be at eye level): Live and in person. Nice to meet you Hati. May I ask what exactly you were smelling before?

Hati: You just don’t smell like anyone else on the ship! You smell like *sniffs* the wind, paper, ink and *pause, then sniff Jackie's bag* this one smells long.

Rein (staring at bag): Take this as a sign to clean your stuff more Jackie. Nothing in this world should smell long.

Hati (touching his snout): Maybe my nose is broken??

Jackie (patting Hati while sending a playful glare to Rein): Neither of those things are true. This bag is no ordinary bag so it lacks an ordinary smell. It’s eaten the Bottom-Bottom fruit and has become a Bottomless Bag. It can carry infinity.

Hati: :O!! That's so cool! Doesn’t that get heavy though?

Jackie: It is very cool! And not to worry, it’s also light as a feather regardless of its content. It’s quite literally the perfect accessory for a girl on the go and no Rein, it is absolutely not for sale.

Rein: Kohoko, am I that obvious! Just thinking about all the beri I could take with me…

Jackie (laughing): You have potentially the world's stealthy ship and a robot hand with almost half a thousand uses and you still need this bag? Does your greed know no end!

Rein: KOHOKO! OF COURSE IT DOESN’T!

Jackie: Hate to crush your dreams here but even if you could take it, you wouldn’t be able to use it anyway. The bag doesn’t open for anyone but the previous owner, who is dead of his own volition, and me.

Rein: Can’t believe you're presenting a master thief something that’s never been opened and not expect me to go for it.

Jackie (standing up) : I’m fully expecting it, just don’t want you to get your hopes up. Here are the ground rules: You have until I finish my lunch break (hour and a half) to open it, you may get assistance from your crewmates and weapons/DF abilities are allowed but if you rip the leather I’m charging you for it.

Rein (nodding along): All fair. What happens if I do the impossible?

Jackie: Guess we have no choice then to fight to the (not) death for it. *pulls out lunch from bag and hands it to Rein* Have at it big guy.

Rein: Mono! Sol! Jolene! Need you on the deck pronto!

[Mild time jump]

Rein: …And we have until she finishes her lunch so let’s give it all we got!

Jolene: Sorry kid but we're definitely taking the infinite booze bag!

Sol: SHIKIKIKI! YOU MEAN THE INFINITE WEAPON BAG!

Mono: C-can it really hold anything anything like.. *gulp* people?

Jackie (unscrewing thermos): Could probably fit a giant in there but I have no idea if there’s air so I haven’t tried. Also your time start 27 seconds ago.

Rein: Alright, let’s do this!

[Montage of the Sneak-Waves trying to open the infinite bag while Jackie and Hati chat and split Jackie's lunch.]

Hati: Thank you for the food Miss Jackie!

Jackie: Not a problem, I’m just glad you liked it. Here *passes over a brownie* something sweet for after dinner.

Jackie (loudly speaking): I do believe your time is up!

[Jackie walks over to the now disheveled Sneak Waves and gently takes the bag, looking down to see Sol hanging off it with her teeth.]

Jackie: Kinda need this back now.

Sol: *indecipherable shouting*

Rein: It’s alright Sunny, we tried our best. *carefully wrenches Sol off the bag and into his hand*

Jolene/Jackie: 😏😏/👁️👁️

Sol (red-faced): SHIKIKI! STOP LOOKING AT ME!

Rein: I guess that’s it. My dreams of the infinite money bag are over…

Hati: *patting Rein's leg* Sorry Captain.

Jackie (putting thermos back into bag and walking off): Who’s to say really. If you were to get me another great story like Grand Tesoro, you might catch me during another lunch break.

Rein (perking up): Kohoko! You’ve got yourself a deal! Prepare for stories that’ll blow your mind!

Jackie: Counting on it Captain.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Sequel, as requested.

To be fair to Niffty, she hadn't intended to send Vaggie fourteen feet in the air into one of the vaulted ceiling corners, all feathers fluffed up in what must be an angelic threat display. But on the other hand, it was a little bit funny to look at, so...

"Who did you kill? Where's the body?" the panting angel was wrangling herself back under control rapidly as she took in the silent but deadly blood-soaked maid.

Had she found a mega-bug? The Queen or something? There's no WAY that was from like, rats or insects...

Niffty giggles at her. Actually giggles.

The audacity!

"No, silly! This is from... someone who needs help, and I came to get you because you're good at fixing hurts."

That seemed to flick a switch in Vaggie's head. Someone needed help, and like that, the calm settled back over her; heart returning to normal rhythm, respiration decreasing, mind whirring already.

"Who?"

"I can't say that loudly, not when you're up there, they won't like others knowing."

Oh. Oh no. Vaggie could think of like two immediate potentials for this and it wasn't going to be great either way. She'd had to secretly patch up Angel more than once when he'd come home injured, but worried that Charlie finding out would send her into a spiral.

But they'd worked out a system of signals now... Niffty only grabbed her on Angel's behalf the once, when his leg was too burned for him to get home and needed a lift.

So the only other person Vaggie can think of would be-... ugh, that fucker. Was she pleased he didn't double die when Adam attacked them? Sure. Was there still awkward animosity between the pair because he's an irritating guy for like, no reason at all? Also yes.

She felt her feet touch ground and knelt in front of the little murderess. They'd been getting closer since Niffty killed Adam and gifted Vaggie the knife, because 'she saw how happy his going made her'.

"Niffty, I need you to be serious with me for a minute... is it Alastor? Is that where the blood is from?"

Niffty leans in, whispering as if it's a big secret. "Sir doesn't like bothering anyone if he's hurt, but this is badder than usual, I can't just use my needles on it... and he didn't want Husk to try patching it. I... know he'll be mad when he wakes up, but he was making a mess I couldn't clean for him."

Vaggie felt her heart soften. "It's okay, Niffty, I'll tell him I came back to check on him but you tried to shoo me away and I just came inside anyway because I wanted to talk to him or something. You never told me anything."

Niffty brightens. "You will? Thank you!"

"Okay, now show me how bad it is."

The little sinner takes her hand and all but drags the ex-orcist up the stairs, frantic in her enthusiasm to get the overlord assistance.

Vaggie isn't certain what to expect but, well, that's probably not good even for an overlord. There's more blood on the sheets than likely in the man's whole body, and she's not even sure where it's coming from.

Something's itching in the back of her mind.

"Niffty, was this just from the fight with the Vees?" she asks, moving forwards to check for a pulse, and that the red idiot is even breathing. Ugh, having to CPR an overlord was NOT on her to-do list for tonight.

Soemthing quiet and thready was there, but it was clear that whatever small shrivelled heart existed, it was struggling. The skin was cool and clammy, respiration seemed to be arythmic and shallow. Well, okay, they had a few minutes before he hit the hypovolemic shock barrier and then things would get fucky.

Medically speaking.

"...maybe. Normally Mr Vox uses electricity and that doesn't leave a lot of blood."

"But he faced all three, right? Does Valentino have claws?"

"Yeah he sure fucking does, I can promise you that." said a voice from the doorway, startling the superfocused duo. "Relax, I was a helluva basement medic type when I was alive and that knowledge just got stronger down here... some things I can't let even you see, Vags."

Angel strides in, lanky confidence and exhaustion warring on his face. "How bad is it?"

Is this because of me? is unsaid, but hangs in the air.

"There's more blood on the outside than I think is racing around his body right now... but it doesn't make sense. Everything I know about the guy says he usually walks off even the most fucked up of injuries... the footage was distorted in the few videos they had online, of course, but you could see when he was missing a limb or was burned or was basically having his shadow hold his insides in while delivering a final blow."

Vaggie carefully moves the too-pale overlord from his side to his back, pressing her hands down the long arms, then trailing the torso. It wasn't the recovery position, but she needed to locate the sources of the bleeding to hopefully put something on it before anyone expired.

"Here, I got this." Angel adds his hands, making a rapid fire assessment with six sources of information and pinpointing at least three locations of concern. Those sharp eyes also note a dark stain to the outer thigh on Alastor's left leg.

"Okay, so there's something on his chest, upper right arm, some sort of piece missing on the lower left hip and I think his leg's hurt. No idea how he kept his shit together when talking to us earlier... and that's the bloody parts. You and I know Vox uses electricity and Val uses guns, and I dunno what Velvette does but she's torn models to ribbons with a wave of her hand."

"There might be more on his back but we can work on this for now. You think he'll try to kill us if we take his coat off? I know he's... particular." Vaggie hedges, turning to ask Niffty to bring the floor's emergency first aid kit and finding the maid was already straining under it and vibrating with worry. "Thank you."

"Sir might bite, but it's a... the thing where you do it without thinking because someone tried something before?" Niffty says, making the pair pause.

"Who'd be trying to strip an unconscious radio demon?"

"Oh, Mr Vox... he didn't like the word No, so Sir ripped his head off both times!" she giggled, eye sparkling with admiration. "He was a not-good bad boy and I didn't like it when he tried things... but Sir thought they were friends, he doesn't see when people get silly and dark about him. He doesn't think like that. Miss Rosie said some people just don't care about any of it... and I got confused, but Sir is happy so I'm happy with Sir."

There was a long moment of silence following that statement.

"Okay... that explains a lot. I'm willing to get a bit mauled to keep the guy alive, so... wish me luck, I'm going for the buttons." Angel says, leaning in slightly to start rapidly removing the coat. It peels away wetly and hits the mattress with a plop sound that feels... non-ideal.

Vaggie finds herself hissing through her teeth. "Yeah, you can cleary see where the issues are. How do we get this black thing off?"

Niffty crawled onto the bed, tucked her hands under Alastor's back and wiggled, the black strap retracted slightly as the elastic was allowed to return to its regular shape. "There's a clasp at the back."

"Is this an aesthetic thing?" Angel asked, looking at the straps as he tugs them aside. Niffty surprises him by pulling the shorter one back and tying it around Alastor's bare wrist.

She points to some very faintly glowing runes. "It's for compression. I have a corset for that, it keeps me in my own head and not all over. Sir said he uses these to feel more in his body too... because if he's really not thinking he can turn into shadows... and it's hard to get all the bits back together if he's unwell or dizzy. I don't know what that means, but he put these pretty words on my corset too to help me stay me in my head... so it's all okay!"

"And having that on his wrist will keep him people shaped while we try to help? I think Smiles'd lose his shit if we had to go get the Short King 'cause Al fell into shadows that were like, bleeding to double death."

"Yes, I had to do this before when-..." she stopped. "Nevermind!"

The shirt reveals a surprising amount of fur over a humanoid base... but more importantly, the mystery injuries. Had the idiot simply revamped his attire and not left magic to heal his wounds? Ugh, the vainity of overlords!

Vaggie chides herself for the thought. Well, to be fair, a bloody and half charred overlord leaving a fight could look like a prime target for anyone wanting that power... and a hale, hearty, laughing one with blood that seemed from the opponent on them... that'd be someone ready for another round. Ready to kill you.

"Niffty, would getting him some like... blood, or sinner meat, help?"

"Maybe blood, he has to be awake for sinner meat, hard to chew it otherwise. I'd have to ask Husk where it is, Sir sends his fridge away when its not needed. Husk always knows where things are, he can see where things aren't."

"That made no sense, short stuff, but I trust ya. Husk's uh... sleeping in my room. I was feeling all kindsa overwhelmed and his purring helped."

Vaggie presses gauze against the obvious through and through bullet wound in the left hip. Then blinked. "Husk purrs?"

"Yep, just as loud as KeeKee when she's happy." Angel grins back, a faint tinge of flush on his cheeks.

And for a moment, despite the rocky road their relationship had taken from start to now... Vaggie feels happy for the arachnid. Hell knows he needed one good, soft, strong and actually nice thing in his fucking life for once. She was glad he and that angry cat bartender were somehow a good match.

"Stop tellin' people I purr... it's bad enough Charlie found out thanks to the Boss, and now I gotta do it when she's overwhelmed and her little one eyed escape artist has disappeared to the roof." grumbles said bartender as he stumbles in, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, what's the fucker done now... because I knew he wasn't right before but he's stubborn as hell about asking for help."

Vaggie suddenly has a thought that perhaps having one of Al's thralls so close when the overlord was this close to reforming was... not great. That anything could happen.

Husk sees. He meets her eye and she knows he knows the contents of her thoughts. "Don't sweat it. I hate what he makes me do sometimes... but we were pals once, and he's puleld my tail out of the fire enough times I owe him a bit of first aid on occasion. Seen worse than this and patched it, for sure."

The cat surveys the damage. "Well I'll tell you one thing, he clearly tok his time getting back here, most of the burns are healed over, except the few places Vox coiled his powerlines, like the upper arm here. That's fine to leave, just don't get fabric in it. Bullet wound'll close soon too if we get him some blood... long as we can keep him alive long enough to regenerate."

He notes the suspicious patch on the trousers. "He can and will kill anyone who tries to remove his pants, so I'll just put a slit near the injury and take a look, see how bad it is. He can fix that with a flick of magic later. If it's bad, I can remove a square of fabric or something."

Vaggie transfers ownership of the gauze on Alastor's hip to Angel and returns her focus to the big slash. There's evidence someone had carefully washed and stitched the area, layering it with some kind of paste that was being washed away with the cloying torrent of blood. She felt like she could smell something... but... with her brain.

That didn't make sense.

"Why would, I'm going to say Rosie, patch up just the big wound and not the rest?" she asks.

Husk throws Niffty a look. "She ain't dropped that information yet? Well it's simple, that's from a different fight... Rosie did her best, but it's not in her repertoire to heal, you know? That's just luck and time."

He looks at the injury on Alastor's thigh. "Good news, just a set of bites, bad news, dunno who from. All those Vee motherfuckers have sharp teeth... don't think it was Valentino, no sign of pink goop or anything... and I can't work out how Vox would get this angle, so it must've been Velvette. Which is... hilarious, and I'm going to enjoy that visual for a while."

Vaggie passes over antiseptic and Husk takes some joy in the mild flinch that comes from his dousing the area. Mouth germs could cause a lethal infection and a slow death in life or death, you just couldn't fuck about with that sort of thing.

"So how do I fix this? We've got the other things managed but this thing is just... leaking." She points at the main wound.

"Clean it, put a new dressing, and bandage it. Boss won't like that you know about any of this..."

"Why? You fight three overlords in a day and come out the other side, that's a win to me. And whoever gave him that looks like they wanted his head, so it's lucky we still got our weird uncle radio demon." Angel said, carefully washing the blood from the bullet wound with an antiseptic soaked rag, mindful to get both sides.

He pauses, eyes going round.

Husk hadn't noticed, seemingly looking at something miles away. "Yeah... you could say that."

"Hey, uh... didja know he has a tail?"

Vaggie can't help but lean over to look. She swears, a tinge of confused delight in her tone. "No way... it's adorable...no wonder he wears the coat all the time."

"Touch it and I have to kill you." Husk warns.

"Hey, I ain't never putting my hands on anyone without my or their consent for the rest of my afterlife, people have a right to their bodies and all. He doesn't want us to know, we never saw it, I aint a rat."

"I... get it. When I have my wings out, people assume... and others think it's okay to try and touch them. I hate that." Vaggie agrees.

"Good. now put the dressing on and leave the whole area alone. This bite's already healing over, I think it'll be fine to leave it. Niff, can you use your cleaning skills to remove the blood from Boss's trousers, while he's wearing them, without waking him?"

"You bet I can!" she chirps, delighted, and does something in a blur that gives more than a few people motion sickness, but results in clean trousers. "If you let me have Sir's shirts and coat I can fix them too. They might take a moment because they're very wet."

"Who wet the bed?"

Oh. Oh dear. This went from not great to abysmal in a split second.

"Hah, the bellhop? Oh that's priceless! And he made all of you come clean it..." The King, in a duckie themed pyjama set, slippers and his regular hat, was wheezing with laughter.

"With all due respect sir, could you shut the fuck up?" Vaggie hissed, catching Lucifer's attention.

"Why? Self-conscious is he? Well, I can magic away the mess if he says the magic wo-... what the fuck happened in here? If this was bed wetting we need to call Belphagor, because that's not usually a good sign."

"Sir, please... it's not a bedwetting incident, please stop being so loud, we're trying to keep him alive but he WILL snap awake to try and fight you like this if you keep this up!" Vaggie warns.

Lucifer opens his mouth. Lucifer closes his mouth, the snarky retort dying on his tongue.

He roves a critical eye over the overlord, seeming to see far more than what was visible. "Okay, all the major damage healed hours ago... except those few little injuries. Did anyone se eif the bullet had angelic steel in it?"

Angel swore then, eyes wide. "Fuck, Val always had a few of those bullets laying around as a motivator to us all to keep fucking and sucking or we got a new hole for him ta use. A permanent one, you know?"

Lucifer was looking at the bullet's entrance and egress, and shook his head. "The good news is that I can't sense the angelic steel from that little boo-boo..." Those ancient eyes find Vaggie's and then look at where her hands are pressing resolutely against the stemming tide of the other major wound. "That one, on the other hand, reeks of Heaven. You must have been able to taste it, right Maggie?"

She feels like she's been slapped. Of course! "Ugh, I'm an idiot, Sir, I've been trying to work out what that mind-taste has been this whole time, I thought it was something in the salve..."

"Nope, Heaven. Grace, to be exact. Of the festering kind. Which one of the Overlords he fought has access to something on that level? I might need to go deal with them myself before they get any funny little ideas about trying themon Charlie or you or the other guests. That sort of power is dangerous."

"They don't." Angel says, frowning at the injury. He's also kind of worried that the slowing bloodflow was more about lack of blood left than, say, their first aid being effective. He'd seen full bleed outs before and it ain't pretty.

"Then how the-... hah! Did he get a little ouchie from the extermination and keep it quiet hoping it would heal? Priceless!" Lucifer snorts. "That sort of thing doesn't just dissipate... might heal over with the right care, but you leave the Grace inside? It's like... have you ever seen what happens if a splinter gets stuck inside a finger and the whole thing gets infected and you can sometimes lose the finger? That."

Vaggie was recalling something very specific, a singular moment in the fight. "Or... Adam got him with his stupid guitar... axe... overcompensation thing... and that kind of high tier grace has been building since that day and might go off anytime. No wonder he's not healing right. That's demanding all his energy to stay alive."

"I'd ask why he went and picked a fight with the Vees then, but I feel like the answer would depress me." Angel tosses back.

"Yeah, he's recklessly brave or insanely overconfident like that. You never get used to it, so buckle in." Husk adds, elbowing Angel playfully.

"Well, he's still a step up or twenty from Val... so I'll take 'no coping mechanisms and mildly terrifying' over that anyday." Angel shrugs. "Can you, er, do anything about it Short King? Are we in danger?"

"I could. Yes." Lucifer has a little smirk, and a vague look of calculating satisfaction. "but... should I?"

"If you don't help I'll tell Charlie you refused to, and you know full well who she'll believe because I've been there every day for years..." the 'and you weren't' is a silent slap to the ancient, ethereal being's face.

"That's a hell of a threat towards someone who could smite the whole room and say it was Heaven's revenge for the battle, Maggie." Lucifer cautioned, sending a few freezng cold tendrils of fear down the spines of those present.

The King breaks it by grinning. "But I won't of course, dear future daughter in law, but there's a few uptight sins who might take the shot so remember who you're threatening. Not everyone can shadow their way out of harm like the daughter-stealer here..."

"Uh... I think he might be more aware than we thought..." Angel says, looking down at a shadowy tendril that was halfway up his leg, and then across at Husk and Niffty who seemed similarly 'trapped'.

"Which is why, if you ain't helping, Majesty... then leave. If that idiot had tried to shadow us all out of here based on your threat, I think the effort would straight up kill him right now... and we've been trying to stop that for a while now." Husk adds. Holding onto Niffty's collar as she launches at the King with a rather long and too silvery needle to hand.

"I was saying, I could... but, I won't. More importantly... there's someone else here who could, who needs to learn how, because it might save a lot of lives one day. Vaggie my dear, time to learn a new power you didn't realise you had..."

"What?"

After several minutes, she felt confident enough to try.

Lucifer described it, of course, but it felt so... different in practice. Vaggie fought to keep her thoughts from slipping as she used her own extended heavenly aura to coax the remnants of Adam's grace into her 'waiting hands' so to speak.

It recognised her as 'one of his girls' and came almost gladly. Delighted to feel the soothing light of an exorcist again, as she bundled it into a sphere above her palm. A radiant light that seemed to burn the eyes of everyone else present save the former angels.

She worried, momentarily, that somoe had remained out of her grasp... but Lucifer patted her on the shoulder.

"I checked, you got it all. Normally you reabsorb it, make it your own, but given it belong to the 'Dickmaster' you might want to try transforming it into something innocuous and inert. A bow for bambi's pretty little tail, maybe? A subtle reminder not to hide things from people who care?"

He pauses. "Not that I do, but you all seem to give a damn or two if the idiot lives... and I suppose he did get me access to those ducks..."

"Would it..." Husk pauses. "Can Grace be used to fix things? Something that was rendered beyond repair, by any magical means we have at our disposal?"

"Maybe, depends what it is." Lucifer replied, tilting his head. "I'd have to look at it to make a judgement."

Husk glances to Niffty, who disappears into the Bayou so fast she's back almost in the same breath. She holds out the shattered, lifeless remains of the microphone, eye closed and unresponsive.

"Sir was very sad when it was broken... he said it's part of him, like Mr Shadow is. I think it hurt when it broke, and not the fun kind of pain." Niffty adds.

Lucifer's eyes rove the device speculatively. He was a creator and an inventor, he'd fixed dozens of foci over the millennia, for different stations of panicked goetia who thought their father Paimon would 'kill them' for it. This... felt similarly powerful, but resonated with the deer's personal soul frequency. Strange.

Still...

"Yes, and I'm going to tell you how in a second, Vaggie, because it's not hard but you have to focus absolutely on it and only it the whole time. Just like when you drew out the grace. You have to get it to bind to the object, resonate with his soul frequency, and then ask it to convert to the demonic essence already there. It might fight at the last bit, but I'll guide you there..."

It sounded so simple in principle, and yet... she found herself fighting with Adam once again, stubborn bastard's grace was still refusing to do anything he was asked and for what? For the sake of being contrary. She felt the gentle nudges from Lucifer's own abilities when hers faltered, and was glad he had been open to helping.

It was a very strange sensation, when the whole thing clicked into place, like a sunrise extinguishing into a sudden eclipse and the echoes of laughter in a graveyard. It didn't make any logical sense. But that's what it FELT like.

"Fantastic job, Vaggie... that wasn't an easy one to try for your first attempt, but it worked! See, the little guy's opening his eye and everything!" Lucifer praised, resting a hand on her shoulder.

The microphone began to play soft jazz.

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the sheets snapped clean once more, as Alastor's stitches dissipated. "You do NOT want to have to remove them from healed flesh, trust me. No one enjoys that." he pauses, recalling this is hell. "Well, no one here enjoys that, I didn't get a masochistic medical kink vibe from anyone here and if I'm wrong I don't want to know."

"Er... so do we... bandage it up? I mean, he's only got so much blood in there. Would giving him blood to drink help?" Angel asks, eyeing the messy wound. True, it was crusting over and starting to seal, but slower than he'd seen Val patch himself up post-fight.

"He'll heal, especially now his foci is fixed and converting the excess grace into deer-compatible power again." Lucifer shrugged as Vaggie tucked the microphone into bed, resting gently upon Alastor's undamaged shoulder.

There was a flicker of green, and the healing sped up notably, though the overlord didn't flush with health. Remaining pallid.

"Hmmm, okay, yeah no he needs soem kind of food or something. Healing on nothing in the tank can mess you up and make things brittle. I'm sure Hunk and Cocaine have it handled." Lucifer replies, heading out. "And don't tell him I was involved, I'm going to whip that little fact out next time he questions my parenting, really give it to him."

Husk makes a pointed Do Not expression to Angel, who was near vibrating in his skin to contain the innuendos.

"Okay, so I'll summon the fridge and see who's available. If not, we might need to ask Rosie for a cup of blood or something..." husk said, walking confidently to a slight space between the bookshelves and making a specific gesture, which had the area expanding as a fridge materialised.

"What the fuck, can he do that in my room? I'm running out of space for my toys..."

"He might... if you ask right, say it's for efficiency or something. You might get some snarky comments about your taste in 'afterhours entertainment' though, he can't help himself." Husk warns, riffling through shelves and tugging out a jug of crimson. It warms to body temperature as the cover is taken off.

Niffty has a glass ready before anyone can ask.

Vaggie intercepts it. "I have this. Everyone's had a long weird day, and I don't mind keeping an eye until everything is healed enough to at least slip a sheet over him properly."

"If you're sure..." Husk said, collecting Niffty under one arm and Angel's lower arm in the crook of his own. "holler if you need us. We're not far."

"I will. Thank you for helping me... help him. But if he wakes up and bites me I swear to satan I am going to bite im back so hard he'll never consider that as an option again."

"Now that? I'd pay to see..." Angel quips as they shut the door.

Getting an unconscious overlord to drink a glass of disturbingly warm blood wasn't easy, but manageable. She didn't spill all that much, at least. And the colour returned to his features the more that went in.

Bit concerning that the blood stayed heated no matter how long it sat there... still, it worked. The wounds were closing more rapidly, and she was finally able to pull the crisp sheets up and over the deer's chest, giving him back some of the dignity he so craved.

Vaggie couldn't imagine the fear of constantly being on edge even when asleep, of needing to wake up to stop people tearing at your clothes. She hoped if his subconscious encoded their actions tonight in any way, it was as altruistically as they had meant them... that he felt cared for rather than violated.

But... she knew everyone had a complex tapestry of life and death and how their minds worked. You could only control so much, even when trying to assist. Something she'd tried to help Charlie see, when she stressed over not having all the answers for redeeming sinners.

At some point, her eyes had grown heavy... and the ex-orcist had fallen asleep.

She knew this, without a doubt, as she woke up sprawled across the bed with her wings out in a moment of confusion and panic.

"Oh relax, I'm not going to bite you... the wings made me assume you were Husker, until I noted the colour, my dear."

"Oh thank fuck, you're alive!" she exhaled, confused and elated in her own relief, and scrambled upright. Embarrassed to realise one of her wings covered the overlord, as if she'd been protecting a wounded sister exorcist as they slept. "Sorry, these things react to a need to... to keep people safe. Charlie doesn't mind but I know you don't like people in your space."

Alastor blinks at her. "Whatever gave that impression? My dear, I am merely picky about who I allow close because this is Hell and almost everyone has an ulterior motive... advise you should also keep close to your heart, for your own safety, and that of dear Charlotte."

"Niffty said some things about... Vox... or hinted at some things, to warn us you might bite f we touched you wrong..."

His expression darkened a moment. "Ah... well, it wasn't a secret, not really. You may notice drones invade our privacy constantly, because Vox has never been told No by someone he couldn't convince to capitulate before. However, his little eye trick means nothing to me, so it's quite the moot point I'm afraid. I... appreciate the caution you took in rendering aid. Do you have a favour or deal already in mind, or shall we negotiate?"

Maybe she was too tired for this, but, "What?"

"You saved an overlord. The common response is to offer a soul or a favour, depending on your level of aid rendered. Which would you like?"

"I duidn't help you to get hold of your soul, you crimson fool! I did it because you're part of their weird ass hotel family thing we've built and Charlie adores you and we all wanted you okay..."

The ears droop. "Charlotte doesn't know, does she?"

"No. But Angel and Husk and Niffty do." She takes a deep breath and mutters, "andsodoeshismajestybuthepromisedtobecoolaboutit andnottotellyousohecoulduseitinafutureargument..."

That brought out the shadows and glowing stitches.

They flicker and fade, the energy to upkeep is not there yet. It's rekindling. "And what does he want, for aid rendered, I woonder?" Alastor sighs, a hand covering his eyes. "I cannot leave the hotel, not even if he asks..."

As if recognising the slip, Alastor goes rigid. "Do forget you heard that..."

"It's just us here... why can't you leave?"

"For the same reason I couldn't offer you my soul had you requested it."

Vaggie feels a pit open in her stomach. Who had the power to subdue to fearsome Radio Demon and relegate him to babysitting duty at a-... NO.

"The Queen?"

He turns his head sharply to stare at her then, naked disbelief and shock in those red eyes. "How did you deduce that?"

"I... thought about the fact you were an all powerful overlord sent to babysit the hotel and then I thought, someone all powerful who would care about Charlie's dream... and it wasn't Lucifer so..."

"Well done. Do with that what you wish, Vagatha, I cannot stop you... but do not tell Charlotte, if you wish for your efforts to remain worthwhile."

"Why, the Queen wouldn't hurt you, would she?"

His silence sent a shiver up her spine.

"Okay, we'll keep this to ourselves then. I promise on my flight feathers... and your fluffy tail, that these remain our secret forever."

"Hmmm... alright. Now... are we planning to laze about in bed until Charlotte finds us scandalously entwined, or...?"

She smacks him with a wing. "YOU need to stop using what little strength you regained to be an ass. I think we're going to wait here for a bit longer, because it's only 3am... unless you like, need food or the bathroom, I can help you get there if you need. And I won't charge you or anything, Charlie had to carry me everywhere for like a week after my wings and eye were torn out, I had almost no energy to spare. It's... just what people do when they care."

"It's a good thing my mother is in Heaven, because she would have adopted you on the spot, dear Vagatha, for your heart and practicality alone." Alastor mumbled, stretching, and pausing in surprise at the microphone that rolled to look at him. "You... fixed them?"

"Yeah, I mean, Lucifer had to help me because I'd never done it before but... yeah. I'm kind of proud at how it worked out. And that it helped you heal better."

There was genuine emotion choking the words as Alastor said, "You have my sincerest thanks, Vagatha... without it, it felt like a limb had been removed. Just as I feel blinded when my shade is forced from me..."

"Well, I'm glad it helped. Now please tell me where you hide your bathroom in this place or I'll be forced to use a bush in the bayou and it'll be awkward for both of us..."

"Ah, excuse my lack of hospitality, I'm blaming bloodloss." Alastor replied, waving his hand in a strange gesture that had a doorway materialising beside the bedhead. "Do go ahead, shower if you wish, there's all manner of products... Rosie often sends an assortment of her new soaps over to see which ones work well with fur and which must remain skin only."

"Thanks. I'll think about it. Do you need help to-..."

"No, I'm quite content to return to sleep. Do you mind sharing the mattress? I can make it larger or conjure you another form of furniture..."

"Are you okay with that, though? I mean..."

"I have shared sleeping space with many different people and sinners, for nothing more than rest or trying to survive a hangover that could fell an archangel, before... it's not the proximity, it is..." he pauses, as if casting about for the right words. "...the trust in that person, that makes the difference. I know you will not stab me or anything insidious in my sleep, and so you are welcome. I will endeavour to devour any threats that may ruin a good night's rest, without waking you."

There's a further pause.

"And if, for any reason my distortion is impacted by this healing and one of Vox's drones catch a picture of us through the windows somehow and he tries to spin it salaciously... I will do everything in my power to explain to Charlotte this was nothing to be worried about. Before killing the picture box. Deal?"

"Not a deal." Vaggie replied, closing his automatically extended hand and doing a fistbump, confusing the deer further. "Now go to sleep while I go pee, before I explode. Night."

"Goodnight Vagatha."

----------------

The click of a camera made his distortion flare.

"Aww, that's precious..."

"I mean yeah, but please don't do that Short King or he's going to go like 40 feet tall and kill so many people and Charlie's gonna cry and I wanna make a good impression to my new boss on my first day y'know?"

"Spoilsport. I could take him, you know..."

Alastor's half asleep mind could sense the eye waggle, cosmically, as it disrupted the airwaves with its salacious nature.

"Notlikethat!" the king hurriedly followed up.

"I dunno, you seemed pretty determined... and I heard ya can shapeshift so..."

"I- but- what- no- I'mgoingtomakepancakesyoustayhereanddon't sayanythingtoCharlieaboutthisorIstartsmiting..." there's a hurried pitter patter of booted feet disappearing.

"Yo, Smiles... can anyone get in on the snuggle or just ladies? Er, I mean, in a non-weird way, y'know, I know you ain't like that and..."

He's starting to get a headache from all the random early waking he's doing. With a slight flex of power the bed widens in proportions. Angel Dust makes a sound of delight and slowly creeps on, careful of Vagatha's wings and to not make physical contact with Alastor.

"This okay?"

"Hmmm. Fine. Shhh."

-----------------

If, at 10am when she went looking to find the rest of the staff and came across a truly unexpected sight and perhaps broke several windows with her hypersonic Awww!, Charlotte startled the entire menagerie awake... then she was very sorry.

But in her defence... finding everyone except her dad carefully curled around the resident all powerful and hard to conenct with Overlord... was pretty cute. And confusing, given the lack of context. But still... adorable.

Even if they did have to get Husk off the ceiling because his panic leap had sent four sets of razor sharp nails deep into the plaster there.

Alastor took note of how many were now in his space, and sighed. It could be worse... the King might have decided to cuddle up overnight and he thinks he'd rather have died.

"Good morning Sleeping Bambi!" trills a small voice from Niffty's arms, as a small duckling in familiar colours becomes visible with the shifting forms rising off the surface. "Sleep well, deer?"

Alright, that was it. He was burning the bed.

There was being open to trusting and making conenctions, and then there was a salacious hussy of a king lounging on your bed when not invited.

"I'll make pancakes!" the unconcerned duck called and poof'd out of the place.

"Deep breaths, Al, he's just doing it to piss you off. No need to set anything or anyone on fire or drop pianos from any part of the ceiling..." Vaggie says, and he's struck momentarily by how well everyone seems to know him.

It's alarming. And charming. And Mortifying. And... comforting.

"If you insist."

"See? This is why your mother would like me... I stop you from doing dumb shit."

"Oooh, already talking about meeting the parents, are we?" Angel coos, and takes a niffty to the face. He doesn't stop laughing even as a baffled Charlie joins them all, peppering Vagatha with kisses.

"What uh, what happened here...?" She asks.

Alastor's ears flatten, perk up, and then flick as he rolls his eyes. "You may as well tell her now it has all passed. But I caution you, Charlotte Evergreen Berrymaker Frequency Bouchard-Morningstar the 1st... no singing, or I shall feed you to the gators. They get quite peckish of a morning."

"...no, nope, you don't get to rename our kid, Bambi..." the King retorts, appearing with a cart full of every conceivable pancake related item known to angelkind. "I handpicked hers out and she's perfect."

"Are you sure? Morningstar is so... tacky... I think something with a little more gravitas could-..." Only his shade's intervention stopped the pancake from splatting his face. He dunks it in the remaining blood to be contrary and eats it messily. "Ah, that is actually excellent... though the service in this bed and breakfast leaves much to be desired, sire."

"Pfft, shut up you arrogant fawn." Lucifer laughed, playfully for once and with no hint of malice. "Just eat something and be glad Vaggie's restraining the well-named daughter you tried to steal but is still 90% mine, because it looks like she's close to launching herself on you for a tearful hug."

His ears flattened. "She wouldn't would she?"

"Inevitable." Angel consoled.

"Best prepare yourself." husker mumbled.

"Squishy hug! Squishy hug!" Niffty yelled at the top of her tiny lungs.

Ah, so this is the mortifying ordeal of being known and cared for. Alastor thinks to himself. Disgusting.

When Charlotte eventually does break free, she is caught easily and allowed a moment to crush his ribs to powder... because he's still dealing with the effects of bloodloss, yes? Nothing more.

He pretends not to see the sea of smug knowing faces surrounding him.

Damn collective of indivisuals he was growing fond of. Rosie would never let him hear the end of it at this rate!

----------

END

Imagine Alastor going out to talk to Mimzy or Rosie but he forgets to leave a note.

Charlie is looking for Alastor and recruits the others to find him, eventually Vaggie suggests the Bayou.

Charlie did not know there was a Bayou in the Hotel.

It's full of illegally imported Earth plants and animals who crowd Charlie demanding pets like she's a Disney Princess and Lucifer would usually be annoyed but there are Ducks.

There's a split second between when Alastor opens the door to find the entire hotel in his room petting the animals, and that wherein both parties become actively aware of one another. The moment is exquisitely awkward.

Straightening his spine, Alastor tilts his head curiously at the interlopers. "So... I see we're misappropriating our power as manager to conduct room searches now Charlotte? Ah, I must say I'm quite proud of your descent into evil. Today - forcible entry into private property; tomorrow -embezzlement and murder!"

A studio audience applauds as Charlie frantically tries to dispel that idea. Fumbling over the words in her panic to be seen as altruistic in her goals and not, in fact, breaking and entering her hotelier's quarters for no onther reason than she could.

Alastor cuts her off breezily, as if it was no matter at all, as he glances across the assembled. Alighting on his target. Of course he'd intended to seek them out later but... well, he could make this work.

"Ah, and there's the fellow I was co-... hmmm, intending to see feels like a safer turn of phrase..."

"Oh, you can come to see lil old me anytime deer daddy..." the coquettish lilt is ruined by three sets of arms filled to the brim with fluffy animals all seeking pets from the multitasker.

"Charlotte, I have decided to test our guest's claims of lung capacity by holding him under the bayou for five minutes."

"Oooh soooo spoooky bambi, can you tone it down? I'm having a great time with these little guys, oh yes i am youaresocute..." Lucifer coos at the amassed ducks and lings about him.

"I could do it... it'd be pushing my personal best, but I did have to get good cause Val was into underwater based shoots last year and well, you can't say no."

Alastor blinked. "Ah yes, thats why I was seeking you out... Rosie and I went to settle a dispute dear Mimzy started with those Vees, you see, and well..."

Angel was going pale. Val in a bad mood? He could be deadly.

He instinctually snatched the item tossed at him, and recoiled.

"One thing led to another and now I'm afraid two of the vees are holed up in their tower and one of them, as you can see, has been dealt with. You may keep that, all I ask is that whatever vengeance you enact not be shared over the dinner table. Do as you see fit."

"Is this a fucked up prank?" Angel is on the verge of a breakdown. Husk is edging towards him, and the spider can't stop shaking.

"Why no... but I shall think about such an idea in future, there's a few people too complacent these days. I'm not sure which of us dealt the final blow, but I think the joint effort has randomly assorted and assigned sinners to Rosie and myself. We'll get to amending those frankly juvenile mess of contracts later. It looked like a toddler drew up the clauses..."

"...if the cannibal has me, my chain I mean, that mean she's going to ask for like, flesh?" Angel shudders, feeling dread rake its claws down his spine and dig into his guts. Twisting with anxiety.

"Hah, no. No the cannibals prefer to hunt or scavenge unless theres a very specific point to be made to a thrall or townsperson, but Rosie is actually quite fair and balanced in her punishments. The threshhold is high... and the crimes she chooses to dismber for are... not sins you would ever deign to engage in."

"Cool... so, what're you two gonna do with the studio?"

"Force the picture box to cede full control of it to ourselves, rewrite voxtech out of the contracts and deal with some of the more dangerous performers and staff. Then, I suppose there would be a role for a director or supervisor... one who knew the business, who retained some level of empathy for others... who was the antithesis of valentino, to take up the mantle under his overlord." Theres a pause. "Hmmm, poor turn of phrase given your last overlord... you would be the second in command of the venture, and able to make decisions, as husker can for thralls under my control, in my abscence. And if they ever started to become... a problem, their chain would be hauled back into line, as I assume this person would want... not wishing to ever BECOME Valentino."

"Can you... show me who I belong to?"

Thankfully the tone is tearful rather than salacious, and Alastor flicks his wrist to manifest the chain. There's a definite blend of signature dusky rose and green.

"It seems you were one of the few jointly held between us..."

Angel huffs a laugh between grateful sobs of relief. "Hey, I don't normally do chicks off camera -mostly- but I'd be fine to get between y-"

"Refrain, if possible, Angel... it has been quite the long day."

That catches a few peoples flagging attention.

Charlie is looking at Angel like she's going to explode into a shower of confetti, and Husk seems to be waiting for Angel to have some sort of explosive response of his own.

"Actually, kind of looks like Valentino went down without much of a fight, you seem pretty whole." There's an accusation in Vaggies tone that sours Alastor's mood visibly. He noticeably reroutes the emotion to a fake cheerfulness.

"Valentino was all smoke and mirrors, as was his boudoir apparently, and his skills for combat were overrated. Once you remove his guns and tear out his tongue, he really has no power with which to overpower an adversary."

"But he's like 9 feet tall with six arms and Ive seen him throw a car when he's mad! He's pretty fucking strong." Angel protests, feeling his own fear for the moth maligned in the dismissal of the threat he posed.

"Perhaps, but the only reason he held sovereign status was because the other two vees propped him up constantly. On his own, he simply has little tricks and his little consent removing spit nonsense to disorient and overpower. Take access away, and he's little more than a very large piece of meat begging for mercy through a mouthful of blood. Delightful image to ruminate on, by the way."

"What happens when he reforms though? He's not good at giving up his... things."

"He belongs to one or both of Rosie and myself. Shame his biology is riddled with that little drug, he would have been an excellent option to harvest for Rosie's emporium. But, one can't have dazed and amorous cannibals running around, that could get quite disturbing and ruin the town image rather quickly. Still, if she can think of no use for the moth, and after you've sent him through reformation as many times as you feel is fair... I shall simply add him to my broadcast."

"You'd let me kill him?" That seemed to perk Angel right up.

"As many times and ways as you like... though I would be clear that these will not involve anything of a sexual nature. That is rather a hard line with both of us, I'm afraid. Rosie and I could give you a number of alternate options that are far more cathartic... have you ever seen someone explode after having dynamite transported into their stomach? Hilarious."

"No one is killing anyone, even Valentino, at this hotel!" Vaggie and Charlie jump in, automatically. Frustrating a few present with the persistent do-gooder act. As if Vaggie hadnn't beaten seven kinds of hell out of the angry exprcist during extermination day... and now has the gall to ask Angel to NOT get revenge after DECADES under (on top of and in every imaginable position) Valentino whether he liked it or not.

"Of course not, we can do it in Cannibal town. And Charlotte, didn't you also wish to obtain vengeance for the time he was inappropriate to your person?"

You could feel the temperature drop as Lucifer looked at Charlotte. "What. Did. He. Do?"

"Nothing! Nothing I promise. Well, I mean. He maaaay have licked my arm a bit, but I handled that like a pro!"

"Busboy, I also get a turn reducing the moth to dust... he needs to learn that consent is important."

"Well, if you must... we may need a stepstool for you to reach his throat to wring it though, there is Quite the height difference."

"Oh go f-"

"Simmer down, Majesty, he's just kind of like that." Husker shrugs, eyeing Al critically.

And then Angel has moved so fast that even the skittish, fleet footed prey insticts of the deer arent able to let Al flinch back fast enough, before he's being Hugged++ by six arms.

"You creepy beautiful fucking bastard, I can't believe you killed Val and I'm... well, not free-free, but things aren't so shit..."

"Yes, yes... excellent. We can negotiate terms in future, around that matter. Someone as infamous as yourself could do with the threat of retribution from two bloodthirsty overlords hanging over his head as a deterrant to anyone who might seek advantage or revenge now the moth is down. Why, ask Husker what happened to the fools seeking him out for his debts after I took control of his soul!"

Husk seemed to look through the wall for a long moment before he spoke. "You ever seen someone turned inside out and still screaming? Yeah. Don't think I'll ever get over that sight... or the sound. Or the smell."

"Now, if the sentimentality is over with... why are you all in my room?"

"OhmygoshIam soooooo sorry to invade your privacy Al, but you just disappeared and I was worried and we can't just call you so we all came to check your room in case you were sick or something..."

"And then we all found this sneaky little portal of yours and the earth items you have there." Lucifer finished. "Care to explain? I could smite you for breaching the rules of hell."

Alastor laughed. "Little majesty there are no rules in hell. Isn't that the point? Now if you could all kindly leave, I have a broadcast to plan. The playlist needs to be suitably befitting to ensure listener engagement and all that jazz."

"Okay, but can we circle back to the 'needing to leave a note' thing, at the next staff meeting? I qas worried..."

"I'm sure we can come to a compromise, if that is what it takes to ensure ongoing privacy."

Charlie made a high pitched noise that made the windows rattle.

"Now if you would be so kind...?"

Vaggie and Charlie trailed out.

Lucifer was not so subtly hiding multiple ducks and lings in his shirt, coat, hat and wings as he sidled out.

Husker paused at the doorway.

Angel pulled back. "You know, if you ever need... my services, just say something, alright? I dunno how else ta thank you for this and it's kinda what I'm best at."

"Not necessary, my good man, but your appreciation is noted. I understand you are also skilled in shooting, fashion, handicrafts and cooking. I'm sure we can find your niche somewhere if you choose to cease your current line of employ or want a dual role. But that is for another time. Husker? Angel needs a drink, I believe. Perhaps a strong one."

"Yeah, I got him."

The winged cat gently leads the spider from the room, and the door clicks shut behind them both.

Alastor feels his shadow self unwind from about his body, slipping out from under the clothing sluggishly. Not the best plan, but he'd literally had seconds between openin his room and discovering an audience that needed the pitch-perfect performance of an afterlifetime to avoid questions.

His limbs began to tremble. Any longer and the facade would have cracked like dropped porcelain.

He made it to the bedside somehow, and all but fell upon it, biting back a wince as everything was jostled. Injuries from today not-withstanding, the pesky reminder of his defeat by Adam hadn't properly healed despite Rosie's best remedies and handiwork.

What a nuisance...

Alastor finds he's also rather concerned that now his room had been trespassed upon, it opened the door as they say, for further incursions with far less warning or ceremony. His ability to mask it all was going to be an ongoing matter he must manage from now on to avoid raising suspicion.

Niffty dropped in from a ceiling vent and climbed up beside him.

"How bad is it sir?"

"Quite, my dear... quite."

Without a word, the small maid tucked herself into his side and shut her eye. She started to hum, a strange little melody she once said had helped her calm down after her husband had gotten violent.

She always used it if she felt Alastor was keeping his real hurts hidden... she may be difficult to read, but Niffty was sensitive to the energies of the people she chose to care for. Much as Alastor was himself. They were an odd mismatched pair, rounded out by the sharp-eyed curmudgeon of Husker, who was equally as unshakable when he chose to place his affections towards an individual.

"Thank you my dear..." Alastor mumbled, feeling his mind and body being shut down as the innate magicks that kept sinners alive through various losses or reformed them after a death, started to work on the damage.

Niffty didn't say a word as he fell asleep, nor when her apron started to turn red... she simply slipped off the bed and went to find the small chested angel lady who was sort of mean but good in a crisis.

Niffty knew Vaggie would know how to help Sir.

Even if her appearance nearly gave Vaggie a heart attack.

[widowshill]

— And do you or do you not have difficulty remembering such simple instructions? — Only during thunderstorms, sir.

THE SOUND OF MUSIC (1965) / DARK SHADOWS (1966)

[ennabear]

finished melvika now it’s time to write some heartbreaking angst 100k words no happy ending

[thedarknesseater]

Ooh, for the 'honesty hour' ask game:

Do you have anything you'd consider a guilty pleasure? (Whether a hobby or show or fanfic trope etc. that you like with a twinge of shame lol)

This is difficult, lol.

I love being annoying about the things I love and enjoy. I love to be very in your face about it. I am very much the annoying brat that my friends complain about.

If anything that really makes me guilty, is when I impulse buy a random dessert (read: boba tea). But that guilt only stays as long as I don't have my dessert in my hands. Once I'm adequately dessert-equipped and well on my way to devouring it, that guilt evaporates real fast.

Doing this.

[ghostzzy]

every day i post about how i don't want to work. well. today,

[nexus-nebulae]

another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[crossbackpoke-check]

nosy anon again making a return because i think what my brain did was read that i helped find some kind of writing and then did not fully process what the writing was?? but upon rereading i am very intrigued if you ever get the urge to share i will be all eyes/ears/senses required to enjoy things!!

I GET TO DO WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYY!!! the writing exists mostly in the form of a tag (fantastic! 'verse) and also a thirty-two page doc of snippets and planning, so the sense you will be using most is imagination:

don't think i have ever actually formally written out anything about fantastic! 'verse but! the tl;dr of it is that it's a semi-college au: joel is still a hockey player for the lv phantoms, but morgan is a college student-athlete. it's incredibly relevant to the plot that joel falls in love with morgan in the check-out line of a wegman's, lies a little bit, and ends up going back to get his degree.

most of it is just good fun about college kids growing up, but i think there's a lot of parallels between making your way through a development system where traditional "success" isn't always guaranteed (ahl -> nhl, completion of higher education -> pursuit of a career) because that development system isn't always designed for you to "succeed" or have opportunities. heavy quotation marks around success because part of that struggle is learning what you want in life and how you define success. are your dreams achievable? are they still the same dreams you always used to have? it's infinite branching universes of would you still love me if i was a worm (ahl player forever) (a college dropout) (a college graduate) (older) (realizing the fallibility of your body) (uncertain of the future) (human).

silly little snippet: