#also just suicide redemption is not redemption for me

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 28

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: Face The Raven

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  28/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You stopped fighting, your body came to an abrupt halt and it made him move his hand away from your mouth. In the darkness you could not see his eyes past the gap in the helmet he wore, but he stood so close that your nostrils vaguely caught his scent. That awful plant’s effect had also been weakening your heightened sense of smell. “Lancelot?”

Those candle holders proved to be an enemy to him when they stood between you and him. The sight of one in your hands made his head hurt at the memory.

He nodded, his hold on you changed drastically, he cupped your cheek and rubbed your arm. “Are you hurt?”

“You’re alive…” Seeing him alive and well had a strong reaction in you, you threw yourself into him, embracing him with all your might. First you felt him tense up, but he quickly relaxed and brought his arms around you to reciprocate.

He knew he should make haste before they found the dead guard down in the dungeons. But this… was hard to deny himself of.

It felt so serene to hold him in the dark, to feel his chest move with each breath he took, if only it had been in a different location.

“I’m so happy to see you.” you murmured against his shoulder.

Slowly he began to loosen his hold. “I feared the worst…”

So many scenarios had run through his head whilst searching for you. He feared Aldith had taken you to the paladins, or worse, Abbot Wicklow.

“Please, Lancelot, don’t let go of me yet.” Your hold on him got tighter, you didn’t care that it would betray how vulnerable you felt in that moment.

His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, what you had said must have meant more to him than you had expected. That light scratching at your scalp of his fingers was ridiculously comforting, it was such a good feeling especially when he included the back of your neck.

You forced your wandering thoughts back together. “They have Percival, they’ve been keeping him locked inside the dungeons. If I didn’t obey Lord Leoric, he said he’d hurt him.”

“He is safe.” he hushed. “Percival has never set foot in this castle.”

You leaned back to look at him, ignoring the urge to rip that helmet from his head. “What-… he was never really here?”

Lancelot shook his head, understanding why they had wanted you to believe this. “He was with me. Currently he is waiting for us outside.”

“They lied to make me obedient.” you scoffed bitterly. “But I am glad that it was a lie. Unfortunately they used that lie to make me drink some of that plant’s sap that they used on me before.”

“What?” he grew gravely concerned, just days ago it had nearly killed you. “Are you ill? What is it doing to you?”

“It’s to make me too tired to use my magic.” you explained. “My father learned about my ability to create fire, but I don’t think they know just what that green fire truly is.”

“He is here?” he asked, “Aldith is here?”

It was a sickening thought that you were in the same building Aldith was in. “Yes. Ravenwick is no longer safe. After your indiscretion towards the Church, the Trinity Guard went to Ravenwick, no doubt to see if we would show up there.”

“My ‘indiscretion’?” He was smiling under that helmet.

Hearing that slightly playful tone was like a salve to your mind. “You know, that time you humiliated the Trinity Guard in front of Abbot Wicklow.”

He nodded a few times, chuckling warmly, then pointed at one of the chairs. “I found your clothes by your scent, they are over there. I believe they will be more comfortable to ride in than that dress.”

You were sure glad to hear that. They had found and taken your clothes away even though you had hid them. And a dress was not very handy if it would come to battle, you didn’t want to trip over the fabric of it. “How did you even find me?”

He sounded like it was such a normal thing to remember a small detail like that after so long. “You told me once that Aldith knew someone here in Morrowstead who was interested in you, I simply sought out the wealthiest person here.”

It left you near speechless. “You remember that?”

He nodded, then steered you by the arm towards where the clothes were. “We should leave. Percival is waiting by the horses in the forest. Go and dress yourself.”

That was a risky thing. “They could find him!”

“He’s not alone.” he said. “Fear not. The boy is safe.”

Who was with him…? “Not alone?”

The sound of footsteps approaching the door made your heart jump into your throat. “Dammit. You need to hide!” You quickly grabbed the stack of clothes, pushing them into his hands, then took him by the arm and rushed him towards the bathing area behind the curtain, whispering, “Don’t come out until he’s gone.”

That curtain was only just closed behind him when the door opened and Lord Leoric walked in, looking a bit surprised to see you there.

“Still awake?” he questioned out loud and placed the candelabra he carried on the table. “That spares me the trouble of waking you. Come here.”

You feared what would happen if Lancelot was found, this place had to house many guards and no one could fight off such a large group of them if they were to attack, not for long at least.

Lord Leoric watched you approach and made you halt when you were halfway there. “Did you bathe tonight?”

That answer came fast. “Yes.”

“Good.” he said, getting closer. “I could not sleep. My study keeps me awake. I came to find answers to some of the questions I have yet to solve.”

Gods… what did he want now? More Fey Fire? Or were you going to have to drink more of that plant’s sap?

He stopped a few steps away. “I see no Fey marks on your face, while the Weeping Monk apparently had ones beneath his eyes. How come you do not have them?”

Your back was facing the direction of the bathing area, and you could only hope that Lancelot was staying hidden. “Mine are different. They are hidden.”

“Hidden where?” he asked.

You dragged a finger from beneath your eye and over your cheek. “Here. Sometimes they show themselves. But I have no control over it.”

You considered it unwise to give him too many details about the Ash Folk. An Ash tree was one of the things that would certainly cause your markings to appear. Why? you did not know. And you certainly didn’t want to be experimented on to find out.

Lord Leoric hummed pensively. “Are there other places where they would show?”

“No.” It made you wary.

“I should not trust you to speak the truth. You would lie to spare yourself.” He crossed his arms. “Take off the dress and then turn slowly. I want to see if what you say is true. You can dress again once you have done that.”

There was absolutely no way that you were going to oblige, and he couldn’t use Percival to blackmail you to do it. “No.”

The reaction was expected, but he was displeased nonetheless. He grew agitated quickly. “Must I call upon my guards to help you?”

Something dropped to the floor with a loud metal sound in the bathing area and caused you to jump a little. Your reaction to the noise may have been what made Lord Leoric not view you with suspicion. The Hidden’s whispers warned you of the storm about to break loose from behind the curtain. And in that moment, you were counting on it. This sadistic bastard asking you to undress was the last straw. Study or not, this was madness.

“Go and sit on the bed.” Lord Leoric commanded as he drew his sword. “Do not move from there!”

You walked to the bed as he approached the bathing area and sat down, with patience and odd curiosity you watched him move the curtain a little and step behind it. Somehow you weren’t worried, not even when more sounds of falling items reached your ears. That Lord was not a good swordsman, he held his sword wrong, you knew because Lancelot had told you many times when you did it yourself. The bathing area grew eerily silent and only then did you feel how your heart went a little faster. The curtain opened and Lancelot stepped out, taking off the helmet and putting it down on the dresser. Even as he stood in the shadows you could see that his hands were unsteady. You rose to your feet, it was all your legs managed at the sight.

He tapped the top of the helmet with his finger once, fixing his eyes on it. “That shard was meant for him, was it not?”

“It was.”

“Good.”

Slowly you approached him, feeling the adrenaline radiate off of him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” He turned his eyes to you. “Did he behave this way towards you before?”

You knew what he was worried for. “I’m quite certain that he was only interested in studying me. But he went to cruel measures to do so. He even made me bathe constantly, like I was drenched in something vile. Like he wanted me to be just perfect for him.”

“The only one bathing now is him, in his blood.” He deadpanned, not caring if the jest was inappropriate. That bastard had been inappropriate too.

Hearing him speak of the dead in such a way was not what you expected, your mouth was a little agape. “Lancelot.”

He bit his lip for a second, but knew you did not expect for him to feel regret for saying it. “I will not pretend to have respect for a dead man who locked you away in here. I have been here for hours, I have heard the guards speak, I know he was trying to learn all about our clan through you.”

Seeing him so protective, and knowing he went through the trouble of even coming here to help, had made your heart wrap him inside of it warmly again. As he continued to quietly utter his dismay over what he had heard about your treatment there, you reached out and took hold of his hand, cradling it inside your own. He fell silent mid-sentence, his hand was completely still.

“Are you certain you are well?” he asked, worried by the gesture.

“I am now.” Your eyes met his. “I was just thinking how grateful I am to know someone like you. Not many would do all that you have done for me. I am a little overwhelmed by that knowledge.”

He felt his heart increase it’s pace. Drawing air into his lungs felt suddenly quite a task. This was not the time to let himself be distracted and risk making a mistake.

His free hand closed what was the entanglement of your hands together. “Even if you were not my wife, even if you still hated me, I would still do it all for you.”

“I know.” Even to you, it was freeing to admit it.

His voice was somewhat unsteady. “We need to leave. I have found a path we can take. One moment, I will fetch your clothes.”

He went to get the clothes and handed them to you. You would have went to the bathing area behind the curtain to change clothes, but…

“Could you… uhm…” You made a circling motion with your index finger.

He immediately turned around and took some steps further into the room to give you the space and privacy. You changed into your clothes quickly, then grabbed your boots from where they stood at the end of the bed.

After you were done, you approached his side. “Back in my ‘filthy’ clothes.”

He frowned. “They are not filthy.”

You could not resist. “Did you sniff them to be sure?”

He had walked right into that one and rolled his eyes a little, shaking his head at the blatant attempt to get under his skin. “No.”

Why had that sounded like a lie?

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded and allowed him seize your hand to guide you along. He picked up the satchel from the bed and handed it over, giving you a moment to put it on.

And so began the journey through the castle together, his more advanced sense of smell worked to his benefit. He was so calm and calculated, so certain of what he was doing. You trusted him effortlessly because of it. He only let go of your hand when it was necessary, then blindly fished around for it again until he found it. Just once did you mess with him a little by moving your hand just out of his reach when he was blindly fishing for it with his, near instantly he turned his head to look at you, worried until he saw the little grin on your face. Your hand was caught by him in a demanding way after that and it took everything not to laugh at his response. It was clear to see that he was once responsible for protecting Father Carden, he knew where to stand and how to walk in a way that shielded you the most from the threats of potential danger.

Almost did you come into sight of some guard patrolling, but he was quick to move you into the shadows again. The guard had noticed a shadow moving on the ground and drew his sword, he called out a name that you assumed belonged to one of the other guards. Lancelot moved his arm, maneuvering you to stand back and against the wall behind him. If he drew his sword, the guard would hear. He reacted when the guard came to pass the corner you both were hiding behind. Lancelot immediately tried to disarm the guard, but the man was build much broader than he was and managed to slam him with his back into the wall. Lancelot sank to the floor down to one knee, he was disoriented.

You weren’t going to stay in the shadows and sprung to action. The guard was broad, but that didn’t stop you from coming up behind him and grabbing hold of his helmet to yank him back with it. He angrily stumbled backwards until the helmet came loose and in a spur of the moment you struck him in the face with it. The guard bled from his nose but it was not enough to knock him down. There, on one of those fancy low pillars, stood a candelabra. You grabbed it and used every bit of your strength, that the plant still allowed, to hit the guard over the head with it. The force of the blow had even you stumbling to the side, the guard fell to the ground with a loud thud, he was not getting back up any time soon after that. You hurried over to Lancelot who had tried to stand but sank back down again.

You rubbed his back and realized that the scars must have been hurting after he hit the wall with his back. “Lancelot, are you alright?”

He winced a little, taking a few deep breaths. “Just a moment.”

When he sat upright a little more, stretching his back, you cupped the side of his neck, it instantly made him fix his attention on you.

Worry flooded your eyes. “Do they hurt?”

He knew what you had meant. “It will pass.”

You let your hand slip down to rest on his chest while he took a brief moment to recover.

His eyes fell on the candelabra, then back on you. “Thank you.”

You withdrew your hand. “I wasn’t going to let that bastard murder you.”

His features softened, a gentle smile played on his lips. He rose from the ground and collected your hand in his own, then started to walk with you through the castle again, resuming the path to freedom.

“We are almost there,” he whispered.

And then a bell rang through the castle, followed shortly by more of them. They must have found Lord Leoric and sounded the alarms. Lancelot walked faster, leading you hallway to hallway until you reached a door that was easily overlooked if one did not know it was there.

He had to duck to pass through the doorway and after you did so as well, he made certain that the door was closed. A narrow stairwell led down into the catacombs beneath the castle, it was unnerving to be there but the Ash Man paid no mind to those long dead. A set of very dusty old stone steps led up to a trapdoor, it’s lock had been forced open by him earlier. You followed him closely up the steps at his request because he feared someone might come and steal you away from under his eyes again. The moonlight that met your face held the place under a mystical glow. He supported you by the elbow as you stepped out from the trapdoor and unto the grass.

“We need to make haste.” He looked in the direction from where the bells sounded.

With that, you agreed. Together you hurried towards the forest, it was necessary to get out of the open grass field fast, those keeping watch on the castle’s walls could detect two people rushing towards the woods at any time. The sound of galloping horses was heard just as you reached the trees. Lancelot came to a sudden stop and pulled you with him into the narrow open space of a rock formation that was overgrown by moss and ivy.

“We are close. But I believe the guards saw us heading here.” he whispered in a nervous manner. “We wait here for a moment.”

Just as he had spoken you could hear horses slow down behind the rock formation. Lancelot’s hand went to the pommel of his sword, his other took hold of your lower arm, but his eyes were fixed on where the enemy could appear from. The tension of being caught had you breathing shakily, if they found you here… after that… Aldith…

Lancelot turned his head to face you upon feeling the tremble in your arm, his hold on it changed to a comforting one. He spoke with his eyes in that second, telling you that it was alright, you managed a small smile that lasted only a blink. He listened intently to his surroundings, and then the horses galloped away again. A breath of relief was released by you.

“Come.” He gave a soft tap against your arm with his fingers, urging you to follow.

The small stop in the running had given you some time to catch your breath and now you walked through the forest at just a slightly rushed pace. The walk did not last long anymore and after a few minutes Lancelot came to a halt at another rock formation. He took off the plated piece of armor that had been part of his disguise and discarded it.

“Born in the dawn?” he spoke in a normal tone.

Percival darted out from behind the rocks, saw Lancelot, saw you, and a blink of an eye later the boy was embracing you. “You’re alive!”

You knelt down to his height and reciprocated the warm welcome. “It’s so good to see you. I was so worried about you.”

The view behind Percival caught your attention, a man dressed in armor came from behind the rocks, holding the reins of Goliath and two other horses. Percival stepped back and saw you look at the man.

“Lancelot? Who…” you looked at him to see how he reacted to this man’s presence.

“He’s the Green Knight!” Percival announced with a hint of pride. “He’s my friend.”

Lancelot walked over to the knight. “Lord Leoric is dead. Her father is here and I believe he forms a threat. There are guards scouring the woods for us.”

“Then we should leave before they find us.” the knight said, handing the reins to Lancelot. The man approached you and introduced himself to you formally. “The name is ‘Gawain’. You must be y/n, friend of Percival?”

You watched him give a polite inclination of the head. “I-… yes. I’m y/n. I’m sorry, but I thought the Green Knight was captured and killed by the paladins.”

Gawain could hear the confusion in your voice. “I was.” He looked down. “A dear friend of mine gave me a second chance at life, one I will not waste. But that is a story for another time, because we do not have time right now.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see how Lancelot seemed to be rather relieved that this man was here, as if he had already formed a strange bond of trust with him. It greatly confused you how this knight, Gawain, did not seem to have ill intent towards Lancelot. You could tell that Gawain was Fey, Sky Folk by the scent of him if you really focused. And somehow you got the feeling that he looked a bit familiar, but you couldn’t recall ever even meeting him before.

“Percival, ride with me now.” Gawain beckoned for the boy.

Percival walked over to him but he did not reach the knight, an arrow flew just passed his head and the next moment Lancelot had grabbed him, shielding him from the threat with his body. There was barely a second to react when another arrow planted itself into a tree just beside you.

“We are under attack!” Gawain shouted.

All began to try and run from the direction the arrows were coming from, moving between the rocks to reach a more densely grown part of the forest. That chance was taken from you when the face of the one who had been a part of those abducting you appeared in front of Lancelot and Percival, bow in hand and aiming right at them. Percival had ran a bit up ahead of Lancelot.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.” Kazamir mocked them, then looked at you and Gawain. “That goes for you as well. Move and an arrow goes through that boy’s skull.”

Lancelot and Gawain were examining the situation, but their plan to defend themselves evaporated when they saw that others were walking up to Kazamir. Aldith walked into sight, along with some of his men that you recognized from Ravenwick. Lancelot was visibly trying to resist the urge to grab hold of Percival and get him out of harm’s way, but Kazamir was clearly hoping he would do so, it would be the reason to send an arrow through him. All four of you were kept under the threat of an arrow being send through you, bows and arrows where being aimed at all.

Aldith looked towards Kazamir, fury blazing in his eyes. “I thought you said the Weeping Monk was dead, Kazamir!” He noticed how the sellsword was trying not to look at him. “You were going to sell him to Lord Leoric behind my back, were you not?!”

Kazamir gave up on pretending. “I am a sellsword, Aldith. You of all people must understand that coin speaks loud. And Lord Leoric would have given me more coin than you could.”

“And now?” Aldith demanded to know.

Kazamir held no shame. “Lord Leoric is dead. Your offer is highest again.”

You were not surprised in the slightest. Aldith was no saint and neither were the people who he chose to surround himself with.

Aldith gave Kazamir a nod and got closer in your direction, sword in hand, your sword. He commanded one of his men, “Grab her,”

The sellsword grinned at Gawain as he walked past him to reach you. You saw Lancelot take one step when the sellsword roughly grabbed you by your arm and twisted it behind your back, a sword was held to your throat.

“If he moves again. Kill him.” Aldith had seen the Ash Man’s reaction and spoke to him, “I would say you did me a favor by killing Lord Leoric, now I can sell her off a second time. You however, are too much of a risk to be left alive.”

Percival had a murderous glare, much like the ones Gawain and Lancelot had. The sellsword returned with you to Aldith, and you couldn’t bear to look at Lancelot or the others, knowing what they may witness from your father’s behavior.

Aldith moved past his men to reach you. “After all these years, you should know by now that you cannot run or hide from me. Did I not teach you this?”

You forced your eyes away from him and to the grass beside him, a response he did not like and it made him grab you by the chin. He held the point of your own sword against your throat.

“You will choose in what order they die.” Aldith found joy in his sadistic ways. “Name the first.”

You spat in his face, not caring about the retaliation that would surely follow from him. And indeed his favorite retaliation towards you came in the form of a hard slap across your face that send you straight to the cold damp ground. The taste of blood filled your mouth and you spitted it out, your teeth had broken the skin inside your cheek. Aldith reached down to pull you back to your feet, undoubtedly to just send you back to the ground again.

His hand never got close enough.

An intensely bright green fire erupted from all around. Had the plant’s sap worn out? No… no this couldn’t have been your doing. This fire was brighter, stronger and more ruthless than it had ever been. The Hidden let their presence be known and it seemed even those of Manblood heard them now. Chills ran over your spine, your markings rose to the surface of your skin. Chaos erupted, steel collided with steel.

Percival ran over to you, shaking your shoulder, and helped you up from the ground. “Get up!”

The flames were everywhere, two of the sellswords were rolling over the grass in agony to extinguish the flames who only engulfed them more violently. It was hard to see who was where, and even Percival had not let go of your hand as he struggled to see through the bright flames that contrasted against the darkness of the night.

And then you saw Lancelot, fear slammed into your heart at the sight of him in a viscous fight against Aldith. His markings were glowing a deep fiery crimson beneath his eyes. Percival saw it too, then spotted Gawain fighting two of the remaining sellswords. What neither of you saw was Kazamir approaching fast, you barely had enough time to avoid being grabbed. And as if it was instinct, you pushed Percival out of harm’s way. Kazamir lunged at you, aiming to hit you just as Aldith had done but you evaded it. Suddenly he sank to the ground, yelling in agony. Percival stood behind him, the small knife in his hand was bloodied from stabbing Kazamir in the buttocks. You reached for the knife, Percival already anticipated it and handed it over quickly.

You send that knife deep into Kazamir’s eye and swore to remember getting Percival a new one instead. “That’s for murdering Amelia, you scum!”

Kazamir fell face first into the grass and you ignored the sick feeling it caused in your stomach. Percival was looking at you with wide eyes, you on the other hand were looking where Lancelot and Gawain were. Gawain was fighting the last sellsword standing. Lancelot was still in combat with Aldith. Through the Hidden’s whispers you could sense his rage, the uncontrollable fury that was causing him to be reckless and unfocused. They were warning you of the danger that the Ash Man refused to acknowledge.

You picked up Kazamir’s sword and handed it to Percival. “Stay here!”

Percival nodded, then looked rather impressed with the blade he had been handed, it had been quite some time since he had held a sword.

Aldith was taking advantage of the blinding rage Lancelot was in, he even laughed as he parried the attacks. Aldith drew a dagger as he locked crossguards with him, your dagger. You foresaw what he intended to do and grabbed Aldith’s arm, preventing him from sinking the dagger into Lancelot. Lancelot was quick to steal the sword from Aldith’s grasp and discarded it to the side. Aldith tried to grab you, to use you as a shield, but that attempt received a gruesome reaction. A bone cracking sound sounded as Lancelot twisted Aldith’s arm and then dragged him away from you by the limp hanging limb. Lancelot threw Aldith to the ground and took one step back, trying to regain control over the storm raging inside of him. Two seconds passed and he kicked Aldith back to the ground when he tried to get up. He briefly looked at Gawain to see if the knight needed aid, but Gawain was just pulling his sword out of the sellsword’s guts.

“Lancelot.” You stepped to his side, holding up a hand to make him halt. His eyes were so dark and intense that you feared he would not listen.

Instead his eyes fixed on your face right away, before you could say a word to calm him and make him regain control over his anger, he reached out and cupped the side of your neck. His markings returned to their ashen-like state.

He was trying to see the damage that Aldith had done to your face. “I am sorry.”

He swore to protect you against him, that Aldith would never lay a hand on you again, and he had failed.

You were trying to understand what on earth he was apologizing for.

Aldith scoffed, mocking him as he tried to get up from the ground. “Pathetic fool.”

Percival pointed the sword to Aldith’s nose, Gawain proudly stood beside him and kept a watchful eye on it.

“Aim at his eyes, boy.” Gawain encouraged and saw Percival follow the given advice. “Good lad.”

You took Lancelot’s hand from your neck. “I need your sword.”

Lancelot did not react, not knowing why you were making that request. You reached for it and took it from his hand, slightly surprised by how he did not prevent it. Aldith watched you get closer to him, the sword restless in your hand. You hated how your hands were unsteady, it shouldn’t have been so hard to do what had to be done.

Aldith saw the doubt in your eyes. “First you kill Cassian, your own brother, and now me?”

Gawain tugged at Percival’s jacket, moving him out of the way. Lancelot did not take his eyes off of the threat on the ground for even one second now.

“You sold me. You sold me.” you gritted out, tears burning in your eyes. “After everything I did for you and Cassian, after all I suffered through at your hands, you sold me! You hounded me through the lands when you could no longer lay claim on me and you’ll try to do it all again and again.”

“You owe me a debt!” Aldith spat out. “My son is dead because of you!”

You refused to let him put the blame on you again. “He would have been alive if he didn’t treat me like I was cattle to sell!”

“You are nothing more than cattle to sell with that filthy blood inside of you!” he shouted back.

Lancelot took a step forward, you stopped him by holding a hand in his path. This was not his duty or responsibility, this was you taking back the control over your life that had been stolen from you.

Your grip on the sword tightened. “I am Fey. I am Fey! I won’t hide my nature any longer. My mother was of the Ash Folk, her blood runs through my veins, and I’m proud it does!”

Aldith began to get up from the ground, Gawain wanted to stop him but you gestured for him not to do so, he had no weapons in reach anymore. “Your mother was weak, just as you are!”

Inside you had shut down any form of bond there may have been to this monster. All you could see was the threat he posed, to you, to those close to you and to all the Feys unfortunate enough to cross his path. He was the darkness suffocating the light out of you, leaving you in ruins over and over again, haunting your dreams and poisoning your days.

“Enough of this.” you adjusted your hold on the sword. “If you reunite with Cassian in the burning pits of hell, tell him I hope he burns as well as your sellswords just did.”

The cold comment took even Percival by surprise, the boy looked at you impressed and approvingly. Lancelot’s eyes were different now, his gaze swiftly moved over you.

“You!-” Aldith moved fast.

But the steel in your hands was quicker, it was just as you had imagined it happening. With one swift swing of the sword, the edge of the blade cut through Aldith’s throat. Aldith stumbled to the side in shock, his hand flew to his throat, he tried to speak but all words drowned in his blood. He stumbled all the way to a tree and leaned against it for support until his legs gave out under him. His body shocked a few times, then he was completely still. Lancelot was looking at it happening, processing how quick that had just all played out before him, as were Gawain and Percival. You walked over to Aldith, breaking your wrist free from Lancelot’s hand as he tried to prevent it. Aldith laid facing away from you and you walked around him to see his lifeless eyes. You need to see them, to know that it was truly over, that fleeing from him was over.

“It’s over.” you quietly spoke, hearing how monotone your voice was.

Lancelot had picked the sword, that had been stolen from you, up from the ground and walked over to you with it. It was Gawain who found the dagger that had been dropped to the ground in the chaos of the fight, he gave it to Lancelot who brought both weapons over to you.

“It is over.” he agreed, offering you the weapons.

With unexpected steady hands you took them, handed him back his sword, and returned your own sword and dagger to the belt at your waist where they belonged. The flames had almost completely extinguished, another proof that they lived only at their creator’s will. You were quiet when stepping away from Aldith’s corpse and going into the direction of the horses more.

Gawain was the first who dared to ask, “Are you alright?”

“I just killed my father.” you told him.

The knight send a sympathetic look. Percival came to your side, standing a little against you but not fully daring to intrude on the silent air you kept around you now.

Lancelot stepped to your side as well. “You made the right decision.”

“I know.” But learning to live with it would take time.

“We should go.” Gawain looked at Lancelot. “The fire will have drawn attention from afar.”

Lancelot noticed that questioning look the knight send him and knew he would have to explain himself later. The knight tapped Percival on the shoulder and gestured towards the black stallion with a small white pattern on it’s back.

“But we have three horses. I rode the mare here.” Percival scrunched his nose.

Gawain sighed and steered the boy towards his horse. “Y/n will ride the grey mare. We have Gringolet to carry us.”

Percival sighed in defeat, grumbling his inaudible disappointment. Gawain took the sword from the boy and helped him up on his horse making sure that the boy was seated safely. You went to the grey mare, brushing a hand along her neck. Lancelot stopped close at your side, again trying to see if your face had sustained damage from being hit. You didn’t feel very alert or present, it was a quiet state of shock that you hoped to hide. But it seemed that by hiding it, it got more obvious.

“It will just be a bruise.” you did not make eye-contact with him.

He was forward with voicing his concern, “I worry most about the state of your mind right now.”

You shook your head, taking in a deep sharp breath through your mouth that filled your lungs to the brim. “It should not have been so simple for me to make the choice to kill him, and yet it was.”

He spoke quietly, seeing how Gawain and Percival were waiting. “Aldith chose to keep hunting you and you had the right to react to it. You were defending yourself, he was always the one attacking.”

That was true… Aldith wouldn’t have mourned you or felt sorry for your death for even a second.

“You have a conscience.” Lancelot said. “And compassion. There is no shame in feeling it.” He patted the saddle of the grey mare. “Go on.”

As you hoisted yourself into the saddle, he stood near in case you would accidentally misplace your foot in the stirrup. It was a small gesture, but it once again showed his caring nature. Such a small thing and still it was enough to feel a bit better, to allow yourself to feel that all would be well again in time, maybe not now, but it would be. By reaching down just a little, you were able to touch his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The moonlight touched his face when looking up at you and you couldn’t deny that that sight made the beat of your heart change it’s rhythm. The Ash Man snapped his eyes away, quickly moved to Goliath and hoisted himself into the saddle. Lancelot shared a look with Gawain, who nodded in return. Together you began to ride through the forest, away from Morrowstead and to a destination no one was certain of yet.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten ​​  @the-great-adventures-of-me   @linkpk88   @fxrchxldws @elenaoftheturks ​​  @slytherlight   @beananacake ​​     @crystallizedtime ​​ @moonlightaura03 @angrygardendeer @have-aheart   @5am-cigarette   @arcanenature @thewinterskywalker @notyourwildestdream  

 @coloursforyourportrait   @koressecretidentity   @nike90   @n1ghtlux ​​  @rachlovesactors ​​  @luckyzipperscissorsbat   @morena-doing-stuff   @the-fangirl-diaries ​​  @gipsydanger17   @heavenly1927 ​​ @phantasmalbeiing @labyrinthonmymind @asarcastic-thiamstan @rainyv-skies     @stclairesplace   @​​katjusja @isla-bell-blog   @beebeerockknot   @sahvlren @lancedoncrimsonwings @weird123abc @elizabeth-holland24 @kissingandromeda @timeshiptraveler

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[lovingherwasgay]

i wanna rewatch 911 but that means I'll have to stare at taylor kelly's face for several fucking hours

[daddy-ul]

AND NOW YOU OPEN WITH FUCKIN KTHULU????

What's next, SUICIDE AND REDEPTION?

Are you gonna look me in the eye and open a damn Metallica concert with suicide and redemption without me present?

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

The gang + powerful overlord reader who is trying to reform

A/n: Tbh I don't have the strongest grasp on what makes an overlord an overlord but I tried. Everything here is platonic!

Warning: Very slight alluding to suicide. It's in one sentence and not supposed to be about suicide but I just wanted to warn y'all in case.

(Not beta read!)

You honestly didn't want to be an overlord. But if you had some power maybe the citizens of hell would leave you alone. And you were admittedly powerful. Which wasn't by your own doing, just like in the living world everything was down to luck. And you won the lottery. So you decided to spend the money and became an overlord. Just to lower the chance of demons pestering you.

It worked. It worked too well. You took out a few overlords, it was dirty. You caught them off guard in the middle of going about their life. You don't keep up with politics. To your surprise, you took out two heavy hitters. Which did result in people not pestering you. But not just that it resulted in them outright avoiding you. You didn't feel good about killing them, you just killed as many as you thought would need to make you noteable. If you had just killed the two it would have removed more unnecessary deaths that you caused.

People would literally light themselves on fire rather than be near you. Out of fear of what gruesome way you would kill them. Not that you would kill them but rumors spread. It went from you just stabbing the overlords to torturing them in the most messed up way possible. You being this insanely powerful and sadistic being. That was the only way they could imagine you killing some of the most powerful creatures in hell.

So it was like that for years. As you were walking around the death and carnage you didn't mean to cause. Amidst all the screams you heard a TV playing. You check it out and it was some sort of ad. You recognized Angel from Val. Whenever Velvet was the one to show up at meetings she would always manage to bring up her and the other Vee's social media presence. Which with Val would involve his pornos. At least he's able to escape from that prick sometimes. Despite the glitch he was somehow causing and his face being hidden you also recognized Alastor.

You didn't know much about your colleague's personal lives. You barely showed up at the meeting but this piqued your interest. But it was quickly cut off by the news.

"Breaking news in hell today!" One of the broadcasters, Katie, spoke, "We have just received word from the Heaven embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before!"

Well fuck you guess. You were never worried about exterminations. Not only did you have a safe area then none of the angels seemed to visit, if they killed you you'd be out of this dumpster fire. Granted you could go to an even worse dumpster fire but you didn't know that for sure.

But you were interested in whatever that first ad was for. Granted everyone was panicking so it wasn't like you could ask anyone about it. However, the news cut right back to the ad.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A woman with an x over her eye spoke.

It cut to Husk (Who you've only heard snippets about from Alastor.) and Angel.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel." Husk's eyes lingered below him. Clearly reading a script. If his eyes didn't give it away his monotone voice certainly did. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I've been a bad boy. And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place." Angel moaned. There was a slight sigh coming from behind the camera. Okay ew. You were not trying to see porn while going for a walk. Just as you were about to walk away Angel spoke up again, "On the path to redemption!"

Oh! That sounded... quite nice actually. You didn't exactly believe in the idea. But a chance to get away and even a chance to redeem yourself was a very nice idea.

You went to the hotel's door and racked against the door. Which was kind of stupid. Hotel doors don't need to be knocked on but it still felt like the right thing to do. The fucking princess of hell herself opened the door with a somewhat panicky smile plastered on her face.

"Hello-" She bit her lip "One second." She left but left the door open a creek, "Vaggie it happened again!" She yelled you could hear the rest of what she was saying but you saw a red glow approaching the door.

Before you knew what was happening your hand (and whole body was being shaken by the Radio demon himself, "Why hello y/n!" His staticky voice greeted, "Are you here to watch this wayward adventure fail as well? Or perhaps you aim to entertain it?" Alastor unnerved you. While you were the same on power level he was unpredicted any vengeful thoughts he had were hidden behind his smile.

He was gently pushed away by Charlie. "So sorry about the wait, just wasn't expecting another powerful overlord." She vaguely gestured to Alastor, "So do you want to check in?" Her voice was cautiously hopeful.

"Yep!"

Her eyes turned the size of saucers, "OK! Great so um sorry I'm just so excited! You can go choose your room! A few are already occupied by our guests and staff! But it's pretty easy to tell which rooms are taken." She rambled. As she guided you through the hotel the woman with an x over her eye pointed a spear at you as you passed by.

A short one-eyed girl scattered around. The exact opposite of how she was in the ad. She stabbed a bug with a whole knife getting dangerously close to Husk being at the end of her knife in the process.

Angel glanced at you and any color his already pure white face had drained. Uh oh.

"One minute." You said and walked over to the spider demon, "Fyi just to let you know I also want to kill Val. Just say the word and I might finally be able to go through with it." You said in a hushed voice. He was still tense but visibly relaxed.

You soon found a room and got somewhat set up. You'd have to bring some stuff from your house tomorrow. But today you decided to just collapse onto your bed. While your first impressions weren't of a super chill place, it did give the impression of a family. Maybe your life wouldn't be so much of a living hell here.

[readsaboutreid]

Permanent Solution | S.R.

cw: big big warning for suicidal ideation (first person POV so you get some of the full on thought spiraling) typical criminal minds violence (reader gets kidnapped by an unsub and tortured but it doesn’t get too descriptive), extreme angst, Morgan being a dick at first (I love him but he was the only person I could really see for the role he fills in the plot with his tell it like it is vibes) but he gets his redemption in pt 2 i promise

no request for this one i had a real bad day and needed to use my thought spiral in some sort of creative outlet to get myself out of it so i took it out on spencer and reader sorry in advance y'all

"None of us like you."

The words rattled around in my brain as I walked absent-mindedly, my destination already in the back of my mind. I hadn't made this walk in five months. The five months before that had been focused on reducing the number of times I took this path.

First, the goal had been to reduce the number of times I felt compelled to take this particular walk. Walks overall weren't out of the question, and were actually encouraged. Especially walks where I shared the company with someone else. But this specific one was different. It carried a different weight. The initial goal set with my therapist had been to reduce how often I walked this path from nearly every night to no more than two or three times a week, substituting it with a different path through a different and more active part of town. After that, the goal was to move to only walking this path once a week. Then, ideally, none at all.

Ten months. Ten months of twice-weekly therapy sessions down the drain. With five measly words. I started to wonder what Spencer would say if he knew where I was headed, but shook my head free of the thought. He'd be better off in the end, anyways. The wind bit into my cheeks and I tugged the green cardigan that hung loosely off my shoulders so that it was tighter around me, the only protection from the cold that seeped down into my bones. I began to walk faster as I shivered, trying anything I could to warm up my body even just a little bit, and thought back to the encounter from earlier that had caused me to spiral so suddenly and severely.

"—none of us like you," Morgan said to me, cutting me off right as I was attempting to defend my previous decision to turn down the previous drink night invitations in the twelve months since I'd been at the BAU, resulting in Spencer also turning them down and going home with me, instead for the last eleven out of twelve of those months. The expression on his face matched the complete and utter disdain dripping from each and every word. "Not even Hotch, who got you the job in the first place, seems to want you on the team anymore. The only person who ever wants you to be around is Reid, and none of us can figure out why." When he finished I took a look around the table to see everyone else just looking down and avoiding my gaze, including Penelope, who had become somewhat of a sister to me in the past year.

"You—," my voice caught in my throat at that point and I cleared it, trying to sound as steady as I could as I asked, "A-all of you share this sentiment?" Despite strength I had tried to muster to ask that question, my voice only came out thick and wavery, and it was all I could do to keep my lip and lower jaw from trembling. I had tried as hard as possible to overcome myself since starting at the BAU, to believe that the people around me genuinely enjoyed my presence and didn't secretly roll their eyes and sigh in relief when I left the room, but apparently I had failed to make them like me and that's exactly what they felt.

"You'll have to excuse me, please," I gasped as the information presented to me sank in. I then stood, my eyes swimming with tears, and ran from the table they had all situated themselves into at the bar, only to run head on into Spencer, who grabbed my by the shoulders with a soft laugh and gentle smile.

"Easy there, (Y/N)," he chuckled while steadying me. It was only then that he realized something was wrong and his smile was immediately replaced with a concerned frown. "Hey, what's wrong, angel?" I shook my head, shook free of his grasp, and kept making for the door, my head slowing down a bit as I finally was able to take in a breath of fresh air as I made it outside.

Spencer hastily followed after me, right at my heels. "(Y/N)! (Y/N), wait!" He called after me, pushing his way through the crowd and finally out the door as well before wrapping me tightly in his arms. "Hey, now, what's wrong, love?" He cooed as he pressed my head into his chest and wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders when he felt me tremble.

I hesitated, debating what to say to him. I could either tell him the truth and earn the further ire of our colleagues by snitching or I could do what I do best: blow every thing up so there would be nobody else to blame but myself. I opted for the latter.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I finally managed to force the words from my throat. Each one stabbed into my chest with the force of a dull butter knife. "I— th-this—," I stumbled, "th-this isn't working, Spencer." My voice was barely above a whisper by the end when I finally met his eyes, which quickly filled with tears at hearing my words.

"Wh-what?" The word came out as nothing more than a breath but within it I swear I could hear the crack in his chest that echoed the one in my own. "Why— wh-what— I don't— where is this coming from?"

"I'm sorry," I said through soft sobs before I turned and ran off, leaving him standing on the sidewalk with tears slowly beginning to fall down his cheeks.

I had broken his heart, ensuring that he, too, would hate me. That was the plan. I had to push him away and make him hate me as much as the rest of them so that it would hurt him less when they found me. I made the last turn and found myself at my destination - the 11th Street bridge.

Spencer stood on the sidewalk, staring after her long after she had disappeared around the corner up ahead. He ran through the events of the past hour, trying to figure out what he could have done.

"You can go without me, Spencer," she protested as he tried to convince her to go out for drink night with the rest of the team.

"Please come with me? It will be fun, I promise!" It was a strange reversal for him to be the one trying to coax someone else into going out. Usually it was Morgan trying to convince him to go out (Garcia had literally forced him to go out with her after a particularly rough case or two), but now he decided to pay it forward to get his girlfriend to come out with their team and have some much needed fun. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"What if they don't actually want me there?" She asked, her voice small and timid.

"That's ridiculous! Why wouldn't they want you there? You're amazing," he smiled at her, starting to pepper her face with kisses in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled quietly, not really trying as she made to push him away. He continued his assault, kissing her cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips, over and over with light pecks. When she finally acquiesced, he was giddy with excitement and felt a swell of pride in his chest at the progress she had made since they met.

As they stepped out of his car he grabbed her hand and saw her face twist with anxiety. He gave her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze before his phone rang, the number for the mental facility his mother currently resided in showing on the screen. "I need to take this, head on inside and I'll be right there, okay angel?" She swallowed nervously and walked inside, and he took the call.

5 minutes and 29 seconds.

That's how long he had been on the phone. Whatever had happened had taken only 5 minutes and 29 seconds. And it ended his relationship.

Spencer found himself pushing the door open and walking back inside the bar. His blood rushed in his ears as he approached the table and stared at all of his coworkers.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the music.

"Reid," Morgan started, but Spencer cut him off. "Don't look at us like th—"

"Whatever was said in the 5 minutes and 29 seconds I was on the phone with my mother's hospital resulted in me getting dumped on the sidewalk outside when not even 30 minutes ago (Y/N) was laughing, and smiling, and happy. So what. Happened?" He seethed.

"Alright, you want to know what happened, Reid?" Morgan snapped, preparing to stand up and tell him off before being stopped by Penelope, who looked as though she was still on the verge of tears. 

“Reid, I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stood up instead, standing in front of Spencer. “I should have stopped him,” she continued, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have let him talk to her like that.” 

“What did he tell her?” Spencer turned to Garcia, interrupting Derek as he opened his mouth to interject. 

“I told her the truth,” Morgan slurred, finishing off what the rest of them knew was his fourth glass of whiskey. Spencer opted to ignore his clearly drunk colleague and continued to address Garcia. 

“Garcia, what did he say to my girlfriend?” Spencer insisted, his anger being slowly replaced by a sense of growing dread. 

“He— he told her nobody wanted her around,” she admitted, her eyes closing and her face twisting with guilt before she hastily added, “which of course that’s not the case! I love (Y/N) like she’s my own sister...” Spencer felt his heart drop into the pit that had become his stomach as his fears were confirmed.  

“But?” Spencer added, tilting his head to the side, his voice growing quieter as the conversation continued. 

“...but the rest of us miss you, Spence,” JJ finally spoke up. “We haven’t seen you in ages outside of work! If she’s keeping you from spending time with your friends, that's a little bit of a red flag, isn't it?” She reasoned, standing to put a hand on his bicep to calm him.  

He angrily shook her off, the anxiety coursing through his veins shifting back into an icy rage. “She hasn’t kept me from doing anything, Jennifer,” he spat through gritted teeth as he held her gaze, which was a mix of shock and hurt at his tone.  

“Spence, I just meant that—” JJ started, but was immediately interrupted by Spencer, whose rage was steadily growing to the point where he was certain he was visibly trembling. 

“In fact, she has been continually insisting that I leave her behind to come out with you all, but given that I don’t drink much to begin with I usually just opt for a night in with her. I didn’t realize I needed permission from the rest of the team to make that decision for myself,” he bit back before turning to leave. 

“Where are you going, Reid? Reid! Come on, man, be reasonable!” Morgan called out, only for Spencer to ignore him and keep walking. If he stayed there any longer, he knew he would end up saying something he’d regret, and with the way most of them were talking about his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—he figured they’d find some way to blame her for his outburst if he did.

When he finally exited the bar, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and he turned on his heel, preparing for another round of arguing, only to be met with the now tear-streaked cheeks of Penelope Garcia. 

“What do you want, Garcia?” He snapped, his face softening as he took in her apologetic expression. 

“I— I’m sorry, Spencer,” she whispered. “I should have told Derek to shut up, I’m so sorry! I just— I hate when the people I love start fighting like that! I shut down and— and I know I should have stood up for her but I just— I just froze like a coward and—” her voice grew more frantic and upset before Spencer cut her off. 

“Garcia, it’s not your fault,” Spencer sighed, his anger fading away until the only thing he felt was the ache in his chest. “Derek was drunk and belligerent. You’re not responsible for his actions.” He paused as he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just wish I could have been there to put a stop to it. She’s so sweet, and kind, and utterly terrified of people. I shouldn’t have sent her in by herself knowing that." His voice cracked as a fresh wave of tears started to fall down his own cheeks. 

“Spencer, you had no way of knowing any of this would happen,” Penelope wrapped Spencer in a tight hug, and he finally broke down. His body shook gently with soft, nearly silent sobs and he cried into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I know how much you love her.” Garcia’s own voice cracked as her heart ached for the crying boy in her arms.  

“Wh— what do I do, Penelope?” He mumbled into the sleeve of her sweater. “I just want to help her feel better.” That’s all he’d wanted since he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d never forget how emaciated she had looked, her skin pallid and her eyes nothing more than dim, lifeless pits with dark bruise-like rings underneath them.  

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Dr. (Y/L/N). She just graduated from the academy and has expertise in psycholinguistics as well as a doctorate in neuropsychology, so I have no doubt she’ll be an excellent addition to the team.”

Spencer had tried his hardest in the two months after that initial introduction to get to know her, to understand why she looked like a reanimated corpse (albeit a very beautiful one) who had just wandered out of a morgue. Over those two months, the two of them had grown closer and closer, thanks to much insistent pushing from him. At first, it came in the form of attempting to get her to join the rest of them for drinks at their bar of choice (the others would never invite her themselves but Spencer would insist to her that it was okay, that she was a part of the team), but quickly he realized that all might be a bit too much for her. So, one night, he told the team he wasn’t feeling up to going out and instead privately asked (Y/N) if she’d want to join him for pizza and a movie at his place since he wasn't feeling up to big crowds and he had a feeling neither was she. He had been prepared to be turned down but was pleasantly surprised when her face showed the slightest expression of piqued interest and she agreed.

He then started to skip out on pretty much all of the future invitations to go out for drinks with the rest of the team, opting instead to go home for pizza and Doctor Who or Star Trek marathons with her, and he started seeing a whole other side to her that no one else had even suspected could have existed. She’d slowly opened to him, occasionally letting out quiet and restrained laughs at his goofy jokes and puns at the beginning of their friendship.

Eventually, those soft titters grew into ebullient, beautiful laughs that were like music to his ears. Her smiles went from being forced and never meeting her eyes to lighting up her entire face, at times so brightly that Spencer swore she could illuminate a dark room with nothing but her smile. She showed that there was a side to her that was goofy, outgoing, and full of life.

It was around then (November 17 at 11:57 PM) that their relationship had started officially with a soft, tentative kiss goodnight; but from the very first time he heard her let out a soft, breathy giggle at his goofy joke about Spock having three ears (‘a left ear, a right ear, and a final front-ier!’), Spencer knew that he would marry her someday.

Or at least he had thought so, until tonight.  

“Give her some space to sort out her emotions, Spencer,” the voice of Penelope Garcia in his ear dragged him back into the present, her arms still wrapped tightly around him. “She loves you more than anything, and we both know that.” She let go and gave him a teary smile before wiping her cheeks.  

“You’re right,” he replied, taking in another deep, shuddering breath. “Plus, she walked away with my cardigan, and we both know she’s a stickler about returning borrowed clothing!” He attempted a joke, but the laugh he tried to give after cracking it came out more like another choked sob.  

“If I were you, I’d just give her a quick phone call and let her know that you love her no matter what anyone else says or thinks, okay? She needs to know that more than she needs anything else right now.”  

“Right. Yes, you’re right,” he muttered, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “Thank you, Penelope.” 

“I’m always here for you, Spencer,” she smiled at him before adding, “both of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go tear Agent Morgan a new asshole for getting you dumped and hurting my best friend.” She took a second to shake her head and rub her own cheeks to dry them. “Call me once she makes it home safely to you, okay? Promise?” He nodded quietly. “Uh-uh-uh, what was it that one kid had told you a while back? ‘A promise doesn’t count unless you say it out loud,’ right?” 

“I promise,” Spencer felt a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. He then walked down the block to his car, got in, and drove home to wait for (Y/N).  

When he arrived and had walked through the doorway, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed her number. It rang four times and then went to her voicemail.  

“Hi, you’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. (Y/L/N), I can’t come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number, I’ll return your call as soon as I am able. Thanks!” Beep. 

“Hi, (Y/N). So, Penelope filled me in on everything that happened,” he began shakily, and took a deep breath before he continued. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to stop Morgan from saying all of that, but please, please know that no one hates you, I promise. Penelope assured me that she was going to tear him a new one for what he said, and I promised her that I’d call her once you made it home safely.” He paused, searching for his next words carefully, and settled on, “I love you so much, angel. Please, please never forget that.” And then he had to hang up the phone, his eyes filling with more tears.  

He made his way to the couch and sat down, turning the TV on and finding a marathon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer playing. Knowing it was her favorite show, he left it on and patiently waited. On the couch sat a small stuffed cat with a blue and white spotted mushroom for a head that he had gifted her on a whim, Dr. Mewshroom, as she had taken to calling it. He grabbed Dr. Mewshroom and hugged it close to his chest as he leaned back on the couch and eventually dozed off. 

I paced up and down the 11th Street bridge for an hour before I decided to hop up and sit on the railing. My walking had warmed me up significantly, so I shed the cardigan Spencer had wrapped around my shoulders. Hopefully, it would be returned to him when they eventually found me. I stared down into the dark water beneath my dangling feet and tried to find the courage within me to jump, but I couldn’t give myself the final push I needed, just like all of the previous times I’d made this trip.  

I must have sat there for fifteen more minutes or so before I decided to give it up and go home to Spencer. Maybe, if I begged and pleaded with him, he’d take me back. I checked my phone to see that I had a missed call from him. Weird, I hadn’t even heard it ring. Before I could turn myself around to hop off the railing, I was grabbed from behind and a cloth was pressed to my mouth and nose, blocking me from screaming. My nose and throat filled with a burning sensation before everything faded to black... 

[cryptidghostgirl]

so sorry for this (very) specific request hope it's not ocish

anyways alastor x wife reader who's a virologist / kinda a mad scientist??(girl just wants to start a apocalypse without anyone to bother her)

Like they got married for mutual benefits (whatever benefits he would gain and her having access to money for her wildest dreams) when they were humans (whether he actually loves her or not is up to you lmao)

They both die (I assume that she would die around when he died from her own negligence caused by her 'freedom' to do her work more often without actually worrying about him finding out) and she avoids him like the plague (not that hard to realize this so called radio demon is your 'husband' when you find his secret stash of 'local cuisine' in the fridge)

Then he goes missing and she finally kinda goes out of makeshift hiding, just chilling doing her evil deeds before finding about the Hazbin Hotel from some gossip

Deciding that, while redemption is most likely not gonna happen mostly for the fact she does not care, she joins Charlie's little program. For her own little project (just wants to have a angel test subject, gotta see if they can be a good carrier for her little virus)

The reader doesn't know that Alastor's back (you think she's gonna use vox tech? Or listen to the radio? Girl uses a non vox tech phone and maybe a computer and does her work) so she goes and knocks on the door to the hotel

Thinking that this shit is gonna be easy, after all her husband is gone so she won't be bothered by him. She can focus on her beautiful creations and maybe destory hell and heaven with a apocalypse for some laughs. While also getting access to heaven through Charlie somehow (maybe even Lucifer, girl doesn't know nor care)

Anyways you can just IMAGINE her surprise that right after Charlie greets her (Vaggie ofc suspicious af cause she knows damn well no sinner wants to be redeemed for the most part) then here comes the strawberry pimp coming to say hello

Would he recognize his lovely wife? Maybe

Ofc reader had a plan, and by plan I mean she just says they were married and now acts like their divorced (death do us part and we fuckin dead)

(Just for example, do what you want <3)

Anyways I'm sorry again (can you tell that I've been watching a lot of mlp infection aus :') )

A/N bestie,, i love an overly detailed request. no apologies. i hope i did it justice <3 <3 I have literally been obsessing over the whole 'we're dead. we've been parted.' reader idea. It's so fun. Also I am very sorry it took me so long to get to this. Also, I am not a woman nor am I in STEM (I'm an enby in history) so apologies if science stuff in this is bad. I'm basing the character off of Entrapta (my love) from Nate Stevenson's She-Ra remake.

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Gore. Murder. Bodies. Animal cruelty (not detailed at all just like test subjects and burning ants as a kid). Viruses/plague talk. Just capital d Death all around in this one folks. Suicide and starvation briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,584

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n hadn't been sad when Alastor died. It didn't really even register on her radar that he was gone until the police showed up at her door. Their marriage was more of an agreement than anything else, a division of labor. Y/n was a talented virologist who came from a rather wealthy family. He got access to her money, using it to start his own radio studio, and Y/n? Well Y/n got a clean up crew.

She had always been fascinated by death. It was a morbid curiosity that had followed her since childhood. The typical 'burning ants with a magnifying glass to mass murderer' pipeline only, murder was not exactly her objective. Since learning of the Black Death in school, she had been fascinated by biological warfare and weaponry. The stories of soldiers throwing infected bodies over the walls of city's to break down their defenses? It was magnificent, masterful, absolutely awe inspiring. Living through the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918, watching how it tore through her city of New Orleans, only furthered her determination.

As soon as she had had the knowledge base to do so, she began working on bio-weapons on her own. She wanted to create a disease, to devastate the world. She wanted to watch the things around her crumble into ruin and know it was by her hand.

She'd found out about Alastor's hobby by accident. They were friends, of a sort, in that Y/n would show up randomly where ever he was and quiz him about radio waves. He worked at a radio station and she knew that. She had followed him, tracked him down. There was no reasoning behind it save he was the first person she'd really found out about that was involved in the business in New Orleans. She would pick his mind about getting the word out about things, marketing, advertising. She was prepping for the main event, for the day she finally created her magnum opus.

One day, when she had shown up unannounced at his door and broken in when he didn't respond to her knocking, Y/n had discovered him dismembering one of his victims. Alastor had stared at her, wide eyed in shock, fear and adrenaline mixing into an intoxicating combination in his veins. Y/n had just smiled.

She had been wondering about human experimentation for a while now. Animals were easy to cover up, easy to bury in the back yard but people? It had always been too risky, up until now anyways.

So it went like this: Y/n funded Alastor's dreams and he hid the side effects of hers. When he died, Y/n didn't really feel anything too strongly about it at all. Yes, it made life harder in that if she wanted to keep using human guinea pigs she'd have to figure out a way to dispose of them on her own but it also made it easier. Alastor had always been so obsessed with image, dragging her to office parties and forcing her to sit down to meals with him. Now that he was gone, she could work on her projects in peace once again. The body thing was something she would figure out along the way. She was smart and she wasn't going to let something like that stop her, not when she was this close to cracking it.

As it turns out, Alastor had been more of a help than Y/n believed. So used to his nattering and persistence, she had stopped eating. It wasn't long before she joined her husband in death. The papers of course had a field day with it. Heiress and Virologist Y/n L/n Withers Away Due to Heartbreak. Y/n L/n Starved Herself to Death and Joins her Murderer of a Husband. Virologist Commits Suicide After Revelation of Dead Husband's Criminal Deeds.

When Y/n had woken up in Hell, her whole world had been turned upside down. If there was life after death, what was the point of killing everyone on earth? She was back at square one.

Rumors were already buzzing through the streets of Hell about some new overlord, some Radio Demon, who had a strikingly similar MO to her husband. Not wanting any distractions this time around, Y/n secluded herself in the outskirts of the pride ring to reformulate her plans.

For decades she worked, trying to create a poison to wipe out the dual planes of the underworld. Work was easier here. No one questioned why she bought the things she bought, no one got upset when people went missing. Hell, no one even blinked twice if they saw her burying a body. It was a veritable paradise for Y/n.

Eventually, news reached her of the Radio Demon's disappearance. Y/n had never been the biggest fan of technology that wasn't involved in her work. In the world of the living, she had barley read the papers. All the machines in her laboratory were ones she had built herself through trial and error. But still, somehow, the news reached her and she felt elated. The last thing weighing her down, the last road block had officially been lifted.

Within seven years, she had perfected the disease. Having run tests on lower rings of Hell, she prided herself on her ability to make it so infections, so deadly. The survival was on par with that of unvaccinated human's infected by rabies. But her plan wasn't complete, no. Taking out everyone in Hell wasn't good enough, she had to figure out how to get it into Heaven as well.

That was when the perfect opportunity fell in her lap. Y/n nearly cried when she caught sight of the interview through the window of a shop selling Vox branded TVs. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer's little brat, was creating a hotel for sinners, where they could be rehabilitated and sent to Heaven. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Y/n didn't question it, her own excitement blinding her. She barley even took the time to come up with a plan that consisted of more than get into the hotel and get her hands on an angel. She figured that was something that could be dealt with later on.

After a few days of research and snooping, she finally made her move. Having packed her bags and woven her way through the streets of Pentagram City, she found herself before the brightly lit marquee of the Hazbin Hotel. Placing her bag on the ground beside her, the test tubes and various paraphernalia inside clinked gently against one another. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

It was Charlie herself who answered, with wide eyes and an earnest smile. A smaller moth demon beside her crossed her arms, eyeing Y/n with doubt. It barley registered with the excitable demon, she was used to the strange looks. The new form Hell had granted her with when she died was odd, after all. She was still the same height, still held a roughly human shape, but her hair had become its own beast. It moved like secondary limbs, falling nearly to the floor from the pigtails she had tied it up into. It shot up into the air around her in joy at the sight of yet another open door in her path, this one literal rather than figurative.

"Hello!" Charlie exclaimed, "Are you here to check in?"

"Yes, check in." Y/n nodded, using her hair to pick her bag back up.

She took a step forward, trying to enter the hotel, but found her path blocked by the smaller grey demon. Her arms were uncrossed now, one of them pointing a spear right at Y/n's neck. Y/n didn't flinch, she simply looked down at it in curiosity, reaching a finger up to touch the end.

"Ow." she said flatly as the spear's tip pressed into the pad of her finger.

Raising it to her eyes, she rubbed the droplet of blood that had pooled on her pointer finger with her thumb before turning back to the spear.

"Is this..." Y/n leaned forward, grabbing the spear's shaft.

"Hey!" Vaggie yelled threateningly as Y/n crouched down, examining the weapon carefully.

"Oh my stars, this is an angelic blade, isn't it?" she exclaimed, her eyes still fixed on the spear.

"Uh..."

Vaggie was more confused now than anything and she took the slightest step away from the excited demon. Y/n followed her and soon, they were in the entry way to the hotel. Charlie watched the scene play out with mild amusement, finding her girlfriends bewildered state rather charming. She let the door fall shut.

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n asked again, "But how did you get it? Did you make it? What do you do with it? Is it more effective than normal weapons? Why a spear? I-"

"What's this, we have a new guest?" a crackling voice cut Y/n off.

"Uh, yes!" Charlie stepped in, turning to face the newcomer.

Y/n, still preoccupied with the spear, was now engaged in trying to get Vaggie to let her hold it.

"I think..." Charlie doubtfully added, her brow furrowing at the site.

"Well well well, a little devil." Alastor hummed, turning to watch the show as well, "Honestly, reminds me of someone I knew back when I was alive and kicking. Ah well, what's her name?"

"I don't... actually know that yet." Charlie admitted, fiddling with her hands a bit as she spoke, "But she seems really enthusiastic about being here!"

"It seems she more interested in that spear of Vaggie's than the idea of redemption." Alastor noted in response.

"Are either of you going to help me or are you just gonna sit and watch?" Vaggie exclaimed, trying her best to pry the spear out of Y/n's grip.

Alastor sighed and with a twirl of his microphone, a shadow arose, pulling Y/n off Vaggie. There was a split second where the smile on the girl's face fell. It quickly returned as she caught sight of what exactly had interrupted her escapades. Placing her bag on the floor with her hair, she wormed around in the shadow's arms, turning to face it. Tentatively, she poked it.

"Would you stop that?" Alastor asked, his voice thick with irritation.

Y/n poked the shadow again.

"What is this? How are you doing this?"

When no response came from the demon in question, she at last turned to face him.

"Oh."

She stilled in her movements and Alastor allowed the shadow to disappear.

"No reason to be scared." Charlie quickly stepped in, "I know Alastor here has a bit of a... reputation, but he is actually helping us at the hotel. He's really a great once you get to know him."

Alastor's smile widened as he bowed his head slightly in recognition of the praise.

"If you're going to be staying her-"

"You can't seriously be thinking of letting her stay here, Charlie." Vaggie cut in, "She's been here what, five minutes? And all thats come of it is chaos."

"Vaggie, come on, don't be like that." Charlie turned to her girlfriend, "Everyone deserves a second chance, that's the whole reason we built this place."

"But does she even want to be redeemed? I mean, what if she's... I don't know, trying to take us down from the inside out? What if she's a journalist or some shit trying to write us bad reviews?"

"You flatter me." Y/n smiled and Vaggie scoffed.

"See?"

"Isn't that all the more reason to let her in? Vaggie, if she is undercover as a journalist or something, we just have to prove to her how amazing what we're doing here is."

"I don't know... I've never seen her before, what if she's another one Vox sent?"

Y/n shook her head, sticking her tongue out slightly in disgust at this notion and Alastor chuckled. There really was something so familiar about this demon and her antics. Even if she was a tad irritating, it was a comfortable familiarity.

"Then we will figure it out, same way we did with Sir. Pentious. Okay?"

"Fine." Vaggie relented at last with a sigh.

Smiling brightly, Charlie turned back to Y/n.

"So, hi. I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! What's your name?"

Y/n's eyes flicked back and forth between Alastor and Charlie for a moment before settling on Charlie.

"Y/n L/n."

Alastor let out a little laugh of disbelief, a sound he had meant to keep in. He couldn't help it. Of course this little mess of a demon was his favorite crazy wife. Alastor had looked for Y/n on occasion, always keeping an eye on news involving anything scientific but, he had never found a trace. Not that he'd admit it but, in their time together, he had grown rather fond of the girl. Not love, never love, but a sort of familial feel. Everyone turned to face him.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Charlie asked, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm which he quickly brushed off.

"Yeah, do you know her or something?" Vaggie added, "Is she dangerous?"

"No..." he paused, his brow slightly furrowed, "She's my wife."

The room fell silent.

"You... you didn't recognize your own wife?" Vaggie asked in disbeleif.

"Ex-wife." Y/n corrected with a little sigh.

This was all becoming so tedious. She hadn't come here to sit and talk with people. While the spear and the shadow had been fun, they had both run their courses and she just wanted to get to work.

"I..." Alastor turned back to Y/n, "Ex-wife?"

Y/n shrugged.

"So you didn't recognize your wife and you didn't know you were divorced?" Vaggie asked, rubbing her temples, "Jesus fuck, man."

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "We were married when we were alive. I didn't even know she was dead yet."

"Yeah." Y/n shrugged, "Turns out all your nattering was what was keeping me alive. I forgot to eat, starved to death."

Alastor's eyes softened slightly for a moment at the notion. She had needed his care so badly that she had died with out it. It felt good, in a strange way. Satisfying. They darkened again as he recalled her earlier statement.

"Ex-wife?" he asked again, taking a step towards Y/n.

She looked up at him, her expression blank.

"Yeah?"

"When did we get a divorce!" Alastor exclaimed once he realized she would say nothing else on the matter without his prompting.

"Oh! We didn't." Y/n nodded, smiling slightly, "Now, can I go to my room?"

"No, Y/n. Why are you calling yourself my ex-wife? We are still married."

Y/n looked around at Charlie and Vaggie, seeing if they were going to back up her claim. Sighing, she turned back to Alastor.

"Do I really have to lay it out for you?" she paused and Alastor just stared at her, eyebrows raised, "Jesus. Uh, Al, we died."

"Yes...?"

"Till death do us part? That was the agreement."

"I... Well..." he was at a complete and total loss for how to respond.

She wasn't wrong, he just didn't like her answer very much.

"So... the agreement is done... yeah?"

"I mean," Alastor shook his head slightly, "I guess?"

"Great! Can someone please show me to my room now."

---

Next Part -> Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

[shocymer]

Redemption

"To him who's giving you a second chance, If there's heaven and hell, would you still risk everything for him?"

Pairing : mafia!Mingi × f!reader

Word counts : 6,1k

Contents and Warning : 18+ smut mdni! , mafia! AU, mention of illegal drugs, TW! mention of abused (undetailed), mention of rape (undetailed), attachment issue, suicide attempt (see the end notes), smoking cigs!mingi, action, gunfight, bloodshed, soft dom!mingi, oral (giving), size kink, slightly choking, unprotected sex, cumshot, creampie, husband!Mingi.

× This works is part of "The Brothers Series", and never meant to represent Mingi in any shape or form ×

Cold. Ache. Numb joints. Struggled to blink your eyes for a few times, you found yourself laying down in the dark alley for don’t even know how many hours have passed. Slowly moving your bruised frail hand to reach those chapped lips of yours. A familiar deep voice startled you. You saw those man through the corner of your eyes.

He's leaning against the alley wall next to you. Lighted his cigarette, before letting out a puff of smoke that slowly dissolve into thin air.

“Just like I told you before young lady. You should take my last offer.”

The tears rolled down your cheek. Recollecting your memories how he found you in the similar state a week before, except it isn’t worse as now. With the same bruises covered all over your body, due to escaping from your abused household, you could still save that perfect healthy legs of yours.

His words kept ringing inside of your head. As it’s like forced to get out of it. “Come with me, I can guarantee your safety.” Made you rethink over few times. Who else should I trust? People who only called themselves family constantly abusing you whenever they like just to venting out their anger issues. So far you could endure it all, but unfortunately not last night. In attempted to fight back, your legs get broken instead. Right in the middle of the night after all of those hell ride, you dragged your limping self to this dark alley with the only remaining strength.

The man shrugged his shoulder in impatience. Waiting for your answer who’s still silently cry while laying on the cold asphalt not moving an inches.

“So, how is it?” he’s asking your final decision.

You turn your head towards him, mouthing the words “Please take me.” Before the consciousness left you out.

He throw away the remaining cigarette that slipped between his fingers. Stepped on it with the tip of his sole then walk slowly towards your body. He crouched down while scanning your miserable state.

Shook his head as if he felt the pain after seeing you, then a deep sighed left from his mouth. “What a poor soul, you should’ve decided earlier.”

After he brushed off the dust on his black suit a little bit, he carried you into his arms. Proceed to walk step by step towards the end, greeted by his men who’s immediately open the car door for him. Then they drove away, taking you out of that terrible dark alley, leaving it’s coldness and your past behind.

⁠✧

“As expected you’re doing a good job.” His sweet voice echoed in your ears, quite the opposite of his intimidating looks.

It’s the same man who saved you a few years back, Song Mingi. He’d been diving in illegal activities since the beginning of his life, doing a lot of dirty works neatly. His men were scattered everywhere, all thanks to the connections he had built from a long time ago. And you think you’re also part of them.

You devoted your entire life for him as he’s your salvation. Obediently do everything he ordered without hesitation. Despite all of the sin he had done, never in any slightest he will put you in danger. To the point you’re getting bored of hearing his same message every time you’ll go on a mission.

“If the situation getting worse and you are in unfavorable state, find me. I’ll take care the rest of it.”

Sometimes you want to protest. Due to a lot of experiences of working under him for many years, you should be able to handle the worst possible thing. But he always forbids you, questioning your own safety and it ended with a long lecture. If so, what can you do? You can only sit with your head down waiting for him to finish his scolding. But deep down inside you’re happy about it.

“I just did what my master told me to do.” You responded in bliss everytime he praises you.

His fingertips run trough the strands of your hair, stroking it in delicate manner. “Good girl.” While looking into your eyes proudly. His smile is intoxicating. That’s become a strong reason for you to do his errands perfectly.

“This is for your hard work.” He put a white fancy paper bag on your bed. Then giving you few last caress on top of your head before leaving. Your eyes trailing his presence till it disappear behind the door.

When you peeked at the contents, it was a bundle of money and a jewelry box with small note on it.

Throw away the old one, I know it shredded into pieces.

- M.

You laughed at the note. How could you throw it away, that was the first gift he gave to you. You already guessed that the second you open the box, it’s an exact same bracelet that wrapped around your wrist for years, struggled to keep intact after it wrecked on your last two missions. Well, he’s pretty sweet for a criminal.

⁠✧

Different days, different matters. Beside the other trivial works, his biggest main source is the casino. What made him furious was someone trying to sabotage it by smuggling illegal drugs in. He already had one or two suspect names and somehow believed they’re located in a red light district area. Now, you’re into a heat arguments with him, hating every nonsense ideas that spurt out of your pretty lips.

“No. Definitely not.” He crossed his arms, sure thing your words flamed his anger even more.

“It’s much easier for me to blend in there. You’ll get their information faster.” You talk quietly afraid of his wrath. He always lets you join him wherever he goes. Except for one place, the red light district. Either he left you at his place or he never told you that he would go there.

Frustration overwhelmed him, ended up taking off his black spectacle. “I hate to say this sweetie, but I’m a man and you’re a woman. I can’t let you go there.”

“But the sex worker..” You averted your gaze from him, hesitant to continue. “are mostly women, I thought that I can disguise as one of them.”

He immediately got up from the chair and walked towards you. His thumb and index finger grabbed your chin, turning your face to him, made you looking straight into his eyes. “Listen young lady, it’s not worth of the risk. I-” he shook his head then release the grip from your chin.

“I lost my mother there. She was brutally ganged by multiple crazy bastard.” You could see his jaw tightened, his stare were full of resentment. “I was only six that time. Then, father brought me here.”

Ah, somehow you’re familiar with the father figure he told you about. You believed there’s 8 of them who’s adopted by the father. As you remember, they named themselves KQ Fellaz. They’re quite famous cartel where you used to live before. Even though their existence is still questionable, but at that time people keep talking about them. You don’t even know if Mingi was part of it. In fact, you think he’s the father itself due to him has saved you before.

Now you understand, why he strictly banned you from going there. He didn’t budge at all after spilling over his bitter past. Couldn't stand the look on his face, you bring your warm hand to cupped his cheek, caressing it slowly hoping it’ll calm him down. When you’re about to hug him, there’s a knock on the door. Both of you turned to the source of the sound in reflex.

“Come in!” Mingi yelled.

A tall male figure entered the room. He looked friendly, his arms were wide open as if he was waiting for Mingi into his arms. Mingi’s eyes instantly lit up, then he returned the hug like an old friend who hasn't seen each other for a long time.

“Oh Yunho, I thought you wouldn’t come.” Mingi said as he let go.

“I’ll definitely come. But I couldn’t promise you exactly when.” He patted mingi’s back.

They’re lost in conversation, talking about those casino problems which this Yunho guy believed all the ruckus caused by the same prominent figure that interrupted his own works too. Meanwhile, you’re busy looking at him from the corner of the room where you’re sitting. He's the complete opposite of Mingi. His facial features are delicate, his skin is white as milk, his hair is short with dark brown colors and well styled. What equates them is only their clothing, they consistently wear black suits, although Yunho is much more formal, meanwhile Mingi looks a little bit casual just like how people dealing in this kind of works are supposed to be look like.

There’s no intimidating aura emits from him. Made you wonder, what works he’s in with those kind of look? An entertainer? Or public figure? Who knows, maybe he’s one of informants that your master is looking for.

You stopped your thoughts when his eyes met with yours. He gave you a soft smile, before turned back to Mingi.

“You’re into adopting too ?”

“She is..” Mingi took a quick glance at you, a thin smile formed his lips, “..my tool. You know, I’m not as good as father.” He always takes time to praise no one know whether those figure exist whenever he mentioned its name. Using his index and middle fingers, he gestured you to come over him.

You obediently approached Mingi, his arm automatically wrap around your waist as asserting your ownership to the person he’s talking to. If he did this, it means Yunho is one of his important business partners. But wait, they’re mentioned those same “father” before. So..

Yunho only chuckled at the sight of you two. Then immediately diverted it, “Tell me what else do you need?” he asked.

“I really need their exact location. Ya know there’s dealers activity around the red light district, but I’m still doubting whether it’s legit their quarters or their operation zone only.” Mingi reached for the lighter in his pocket to light the cigarette that placed between his lips. Smoked on it once or twice.

“I sent my men to check it last week, but fuck there’s no words back till now.” He continued while looking far away out of the window.

Yunho could sense the annoyance radiating through his words. “And? What’s your next move?”

He grinned while imagining how he would ravage those wretch. “Wiped clean their base of course. I don’t like any pests slink in my lovely fields.”

Knowing what to do, Yunho promised him that he’ll be back for few days to dig more information. Before leaving, he put his hand on Mingi’s shoulder, leaning closer to talk beside him in low tone. “Remember, don’t act rashly.” When Mingi turned to him, he only gave him a faint smile, “Oh and keep an eye on your surrounding bud.” Then, he patted Mingi’s shoulder for few times and walk away out of the room, leaving you two alone.

⁠✧

“.. Yes sir, please go this way. We can talk about it in my office.” The old man that known as the manager guided Mingi as soon as he set his foot at the casino entrance.

You look around, the situation is still the same as the normal days. Crowded by people who enjoy betting their own wealth, plus the sound of slot machines were rumbling in the background as you go deep inside. The casino has been around for almost a decade. Even though it’s still quite new, but its reputation is well known to be able to compete with others. And of course Mingi despise any slightest intervention for the continuity of his business. So, he intended to find out everything with his own eyes today.

“How about we talk about the matters here. I want to enjoy the casino atmosphere right now.” He declined the offer politely, giving a convincing reason with the only sole purpose which is to observe everything clearly.

The manager immediately snapped his fingers, called several waiters to prepare the VIP seats that located in the middle of the casino. Of course anything is done for your master as the respective owner of this place.

“Sir, would you like some ladies for the companion, before we start?” The same old man made an offer while inviting him to take a seat.

He gestured with his hand to reject it. “No need, I bring my own. Shall we start now?” He pulled you to sit on his lap as soon as he sat on the couch. You catch what he means right away, then you begin to put your hand behind his neck while the other one rest on his clothed chest, acting like one of his own ladies. But on the contrary, he didn’t have any girls around.

All of his past trauma was swallowing over him, every girl touches made him uncomfortable in some kind of a way. Disgusted by the fact how his mother’s life ended by several men, he’s afraid of the possibility to unleashed the sickening behavior as a man whenever any woman approached him. But after he met you, he’ll bring you along whether to meet the clients or some of the influential person on his work. Therefore, beside of doing your job as his underlings, the other purpose was to avoid some ladies that sent to accompany him in every meetings with them. And that cause you often mistaken as his woman by a lot of people he met.

Back to the casino right now, you directed your gaze all over the room, trying to catch if something strange might be happen. Sometimes, you took a glance at Mingi who’s still talking to those manager, trying to read his cautious expression to the surrounding. He’ll occasionally caress your thigh for a few times, only to keep your composure.

You flicked your eyes to the side, noticing the odd. Proceed to run your fingertips from his chest up to his neck and end up covering your lips from the side which is pressing against his right ear. Mingi hold the grunts that almost escape from the back of his throat as he feel your soft breath hitting on his skin, and he finally giving the attention you wanted.

“2 o’clock direction. I’ll check it right away.” You whispered into his ear.

His eyes aimed at the place you’re referring to, then slightly lean away from you. “My sweetie is bored huh? You wanna look around?” He brushed his palm on your back gently, still didn’t drop the act.

“Yes please, can I?” You cooed at him, giving your pampered look as convincing as possible.

“Of course, everything for you baby.” Then he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds before let you go.

You didn’t expect he will kiss you right away. Isn’t it too much for a mere acting? Wait, did he repay your previous actions? Mingi’s expression was hard to read, he only smirked at you as if “good luck” was the only two words that written on his face. However, you swift away towards the possible problems occurred, after showed them your sweetest smile for the last time.

Well, it didn’t go smoothly as you wanted. You pretend to be interested in the slot machines that lined up near you, under the pretext of approaching those suspicious figures stealthily. But it ended up they’re in the middle of the crowd where it’s difficult for you to reach. You tried to sneak in, squishing your body among a lot of people. To be honest, this wasn’t your main forte. Your part is to deal with the target directly as a decoy. And there’s no other option, it’s too crowded for any commotion to occur, so the only thing you can do is watching them closely.

They drew closer to each other, it seems like exchanging something under their coat. You accidentally stole glances with one of them, and somehow he looks quite familiar but there’s no other clue because half of his face is covered with hat. You still tried to get closer carefully, but alas it didn’t work. They’re gone, blending in with the crowd, wearing the same black coat with people around in the casino.

You turned your gaze to Mingi from the place you’re standing right now. Only realized that his eyes was fixed on you from the earlier you left. Slightly shook your head at him, you gave him signal that the target was gone. He rolled his eyes, immediately stopping his conversation with the manager before barging out of the casino furiously. You followed him behind, who’s cursing along the way towards his car.

Pulled the highest gear and stepped on the gas pedal, he’s driving in full speed. His eyes pierced straight towards the road as if he could tear it apart. There’s too many questions running inside of your head, but you’re afraid to ask. So you just sit quietly on the passenger seat beside him.

He pressed the bridge of his nose every now and then, hoping it’ll reduce the headache a little bit. But it didn’t work either way. He decided to break the silence after quite some time. “Haa.. I can’t trust those old man either.”

You dared yourself to give him a response, “why? You have known him for a long time though.”

“It just.. my own suspicion. Nothings deep.” He looked much calmer than before while still focused on driving his car. “That’s why I bring you instead of useless bunch of my men.”

Right, the casino manager must be recognize them here and there if Mingi wanted to check it in secret. But it still didn’t work, you lost those troublemaker too. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it properly.”

He clicked his tongue before bringing his fingers that belong to his right hand, running through some stands of your loose hair. “Relax, sometime it tend to happen.” You thought he would be mad, but actually he calmed you instead. To the point you could feel the cold sweat enveloped over your palm because you’re too afraid of him.

His phone is ringing, the incoming call notification were written on the head unit screen, it’s from one of his men. Informed him that they had found the target location. He swerved the steering wheel all at once, immediately drove to the location they’re referring to. Just like how he speculated before, he felt satisfied that it was right, those bastards base was in the red light district area.

Upon the arrival, he gave you a warning sign to not to get out of the car no matter what happen, before rushing out and being greeted by his several men. You saw him through the car window, the way his annoyed expression drawn on his face, but still kept the composure remain. It can be seen that he burn the cigarettes tip and taking a deep drag of it, just to calm himself down.

He pulled out his favorite handgun, racking the slide once to load in the bullet, then he gave the command to break into those place. His men spreading all over the main hall in swift motion, but strangely there’s not a single person was on guard there. Due to unexpected of this big place, Mingi ordered them to split up and told them to kill anyone they met.

On the other hand, you just sat quietly in the car, even though occasionally heard the gunshots noise one after another coming from the mansion which couldn't be muffled by how tight the car was. Oh to be the passenger princess, you’re hating how useless you are right now.

You startled by the sudden rang coming from Mingi’s phone, Yunho’s name was pop out on the screen. Hesitant whether you should answer or ignore it afraid of being too nosy. After you think clearly like how careless is your master to left out his important being here, you end up slide the green button to the right.

“Hello, where are you right now?” Yunho’s anxious voice heard across the phone.

You answered him carefully, “Uhm sir, it’s me. We’re in the red light district right now.”

“Wait, where’s Mingi?”

“He’s in the big white mansion,” you look around trying to describe how it’s look like. “..it’s located deep in the area, we turned left from the four junction of the main road, then-”

He cut off your explanation, “Shit, he’s lured in! All of it was a trap.” He sighed, “can you reach hi-” Good heaven, the call disconnected due to signal lost.

You shook the phone, hoping it’ll catch the signal back, but it didn’t work. As soon as you gathered your mind, you took the 'smith and wesson' out of the glove compartment, slipping in between the thigh band under your little black dress. Getting out of the car, you entered the white mansion in instant.

It's weirdly too calm on the first floor. Feeling like lost the sense of direction, you just followed your gut. Running to the left wing of mansion, checking on every single room, you only wished to find Mingi as soon as possible. On every step you wondered, Why did the gunshots noise stopped? It makes you difficult to track the source of the fight.

Shit thing’s happen, you just entered the wrong room when lost in your thought. There’s a man relaxed sitting on a big armchair while smoking his cigar. You really want to back off, but he already saw you first. You decided to play along rather than causing more complicated thing.

“Good grief, they sent a new bitch”

You came closer to his side while giving him a formality smile. Putting your hand to his shoulder and leaning over him, just keeping the act before you intended to attack him quickly. Alas, he gripped your wrist instead, after that twisting your arm and held it back. He’s grabbing the chunk of your hair then yanked your head to the side, “ I knew you’re not just an ordinary bitches”

You elbowed him in the face with other free hand and giving him a round kick in attempt to released yourself. You took a few steps back, pulled out your handgun then shooting him right on his leg. But if feels nothing to him, he proceed to kick your hand which holding the gun till it flew away. You dodged his every blows as best as you can. Cause it’s impossible to counter him with your only bare hands meanwhile he’s much bigger than you. In the end, he managed to grab your hair again. The pain spreading all over your head as if it almost ripping out your scalp.

You’re just about to give up, there’s no energy left in you. But the door slammed loudly, woke you up. There’s your master firing shots eagerly to this bastard. As soon as his dead body fall onto the floor, you run towards Mingi who’s covered in blood stain.

Your voice was shaking while wiping the blood out of his face, “you’re hurt.”

“It’s not mine.” Referring to those blood. He hold your hand gently, staring deep into your eyes, looking at how messed up you’re right now. “But you are the one who’s injured”

He crouched down to pick your gun and giving it back to you. “Who else using this gun type besides you.” After that, he smoothed your hair, running his finger through it. How could he’d be this gentle despite in the midst of chaos. It feels like the world is collided and there’s only you two left.

But those feels didn’t last long, both of you drawn to the sound of explosion coming from the deep within the mansion. You just aware that half of it was burned in fire when you looked outside. He took you to another side of mansion which he considered it safe. On your way there, many dead bodies laying around. You could identified one and two of them, only realizing it mostly coming from Mingi’s side.

“You didn’t lose right?” You asked him while still running hand in hand.

“What makes you think like that?” He turned towards you, “ I killed ‘em all on the other side.”

Before continuing his words, both of you were blocked by the groups of his men right in the middle of mansion grounds. When he was going to hand you over to them with the intention of taking you out safely, one of them firing the gun. The bullet grazed your upper right arms, made you fall onto your knees due to shock.

“Are you fucking out of your mind?!!” Mingi was furious at the sight, he bombard the remaining bullets he had to them without thinking, gunned them down one by one. However, he’s still out numbered. Whether he want it or not, he received multiple shots that pierced through his body. You almost gone crazy, seeing him so badly injured with your own eyes. It got to the point he couldn’t stand on his own feet anymore.

You stepped to the front, covering him in injured state while shooting them with your trembling left hand. Not too long, the strong wind hitting the ground while you’re still busying yourself in the gunfight, followed by the sound of helicopter blade getting closer. You squinted your eyes trying to see it clearly, then found a muscular man shooting his machine gun towards Mingi’s underlings, from inside of the helicopter.

“Step back! We’ll take over.” Yunho shouted, walking from your behind while pointing his gun at them.

Catching on the situation, you backed yourself out. Proceed to put Mingi’s arm around your shoulder then carried him to the safer place. You laid him down slowly, before starting to rip some part of your dress in attempt to stop his bleeding. Your tears fell right away in a moment he struggled to reach your cheek.

You hold his hand, “please don’t move too much, I tried my best to treat your wound okay?”

When you finished covered his wounds, his grip was weakened. You can’t think clearly at the moment, checking his heartbeat back and forth by pressing your ear on top of his chest. You tried to talk to him over and over, hoping he would stay conscious. Till there’s one time you couldn’t feel his breath anymore.

“No! please don’t leave me!” You cried out, crumbling apart, there’s no point to continue your life if he’s gone. Everything’s went silence as if there’s no gunfight going on in the background.

You decided to racked the slide of your gun, then pointing out under your chin. The tears keep running out of your eyes as you looked down to his body. You took a deep breath, then putting you finger to the trigger. Chanting his name in the whisper. After that, you didn’t felt anything as you went black out.

⁠✧

More than a week passed since that day, you’re sitting in front of his room with your bandaged arm. Luckily you’re immediately fainted right before pulling the trigger. If not, you wouldn’t know if Mingi is still alive until now. He woke up a few days ago after he went into short coma. His three brothers took turns looking after him, you don’t know the rest of their name but surely Yunho is one of them.

To be honest, you really wanted to scold him the second he woke up, but Yunho already done that, so you don’t need to.

“He’s looking for you.” Yunho said that to you before he left.

You knocked on the door, then stepping into Mingi’s room. He smiled at you as soon as you come closer towards his bed. Right now, he’s leaning against the headboard with his naked torso covered in the bandage, he looks much better than the last time you saw him. You sure have known for a long time how fit his body is. But not today, you felt something strange when you looked at his toned chest as if you want to run your fingertips through it.

“What’s wrong?” His voice interrupted your thoughts.

You shook your head in instant, “nothing.”

“C’mere.” He pulled you to sit next to him. Then brushing his hair back before he put his forehead into the nape of your neck. “Is it weird if I miss you this bad?”

You chuckled, starting to caress his hair gently. “No, you’re not. I feel the same way.”

“You do?” he’s still in the same position, mumbled his words.

“Yes I do, sir.”

He grunted while looking up at you. “Don’t call me sir.” His lips pressing against your ear, “call my name instead, okay sweetie?” He’s started to nibble your earlobe, flicking it using his tongue then tugging it between his teeth.

Biting your lower lips, you tried to hold the sensation of him sucking on your skin. You put your hand on his chest, which had been itching to touch it since your first step into his room. Teasing him a little bit more by trailing on every curved of his chest to his abdominal muscle with your second fingers. He groaned, while he’s still kissing on the side of your neck.

He talked between the kisses, “you know what, actually I want to devour you back in the casino.” He bite on your neck, “the way your plumped ass pressed on my cock.” He bite you again, “the way your delicate fingers touched my skin.” He bite you for the third time before whispering into your ear, “and of course, the way your lips slammed with mine.”

You turned to him, circling your hands to the back of his neck. Staring deep into his eyes, mouthing “I love you” then began to devour his lips passionately. He gave the same energy by parting your lips with his tongue, trying to collide it with yours. You moan between the kisses as he grope your butt to pick you onto his lap.

But really, this isn’t the stamina of someone who just woken up from a coma while still being injured here and there. You grinded on his clothed cock, feeling it growing hard on every stroke you made.

He parted out from the kiss only to see the aroused face of yours. The way your half lidded eye staring on him and how red is your flushed cheek, making him groan on the sight of it. He brought his hand to pull your skirt up, starting to teased your wet clothed clit using his thumb that moving in circle. You throw your head back while moaning out his name.

His other hand slightly choking on your throat while you still dry humping his cock erratically, all of it brought you to the cloud nine as you came in your panties, drenched it out to the core.

“Ah Mingi, stop!” You couldn’t resist your body to spasm after pinching your clit hard, he didn’t give you break to riding down your first orgasm. He’s satisfied at how messy you are right now, then giving you a quick kiss on your lips as a reward.

Didn’t want to lose, you started trailing kisses on his chest down to his stomach. And stopped right in front of his bulge, unbuttoning his pants, then letting it out sprung free. His cock is swollen hard and throbbing at every single touch you made. You looked up at him, feeling proud of yourself as he can’t do anything and only anticipating what will you do next.

You licked the tip of his hard member, twisting it between your tongue to the left and right, before sucking on it hard. Your hand started stroking the remaining length up and down, while you’re bobbing your head to bring it deeper touching to the back of your throat. He couldn’t help but groan loudly, while he grab your hair as it guide you to move faster. “I- I’m so close baby.” You could feel his cock is pulsing, then he shoot his load into your mouth.

Sticking out your tongue, you showed him that you took all of his cum then you swallowed it all the way. “Baby, ride my cock right away.” He cooed. You yanked your panties, and started to slide his cock slowly into your tight pussy. It’s unexpectedly big, that it's bulging out your lower belly everytime it hitting on your womb. At first you grinding it slowly, made him throwing his head back to the headboard. But after quite some time, he dig his fingers on your waist, thrusting his cock deeper and faster. You only cried out incoherent moan as he thrusting it frantically. Pain and pleasure becoming one, he gave one last hard thrust, before filled his cum into your pussy. You squirm and spasm as you feel his hot seed keep spurting in your womb.

He groaned, “that was so good.” Then tucked your hair behind your ear. While still sitting on his lap, you put your head on his shoulder trying to catch your breath.

“Baby..” he called you softly.

You still felt tired, didn’t budge at all in his arms. “Hmm?”

“I think my stitches are open.”

You immediately sat down to his side before seeing the blood seeping through his lower bandage. You shook your head. Ah, it looks like both of you have to be patient for quite some time, until Mingi recover completely.

⁠✧

Milan, 3 Years later.

“Mingi stop!” You pushed him while giggling at how ticklish he’s kissing you. He’s on top of you right now, planting kisses all over you neck, and leaving some mark on it.

You covered his mouth, this is your second attempt to stop him from attacking you. “Come on, there’s our babies around.” You sulking at him.

He back off easily every time you mention the kids. “Alright alright.” Then, he took a seat beside you obediently.

Mingi and you got a pair of twins right away after the marriage, now they’re almost two years old. Walking around the living room and playing with their toys.

Mingi decided to move out to the complete opposite of different continents after he recovered from the injuries. Leaving out the dangerous work and starting a new life with you instead. Sometimes he miss the old times. Just like right now, he’ll teasing you whenever remembered the piece memories of it.

“I can’t get it out of my mind the way you looked at me in those mansion.” He chuckled.

“What am I supposed to do? You’re dying, it’s not even funny.” You’re even more annoyed at him.

“It just, you don’t need to stain your hand by shooting those bastards to death.” He’s giving a serious looks on his face. “It was my biggest regret that I can’t protect you.”

You caress his cheek, “why? You’re doing your best and please stop blaming yourself.”

“It’s not like that, I want you to remain pure. So just let me bear all of your sin. I don’t want to drag you into the hell. An angel is supposed to be in heaven” He frowned, disappointed for all of the things that have been through.

You never know if he thinks about you like that, the sweet side of him never changed since the first time you met, he always save you no matter what happen.

You laughed, “I don’t want to stay in heaven by myself. Let me bring the heaven to you”

“Right, you always bring heaven to me though.” Shaking his head and starting to laugh too. He immediately stand up to approach the twins.

“Let’s wrap it up my prince and princess, it’s a nap time for you two.” He chase them around, which hating to take a nap.

You heard the doorbell rang, so you rushed to open the door.

“Oh Hello, Is Mr. Song at home?” A man who looks a little younger, looking for your husband.

“Wait a minute” You turned your back “Honey, there’s someone looking for you!” You’re going inside, taking his place to put your lovely twin babies to the bed.

Mingi walked towards the front door, fall silent for a moment, after looking at the figure who’s standing right in front of him. “Jongho?”

“Well, long time no see, brother.”

disclaimer : this works didn't instigate any psychological deviation so please seeking the professional when you feel unwell. All of it is purely fiction and for entertaintment purpose only.

[hypnos333]

Hello? I haven't written to anyone before, but I think I need a little reassurance now. It’s just that I’ve been celebrating my birthday alone for several years now. And every year I start to get upset about this earlier and earlier

So could you write a "reader" who is feeling a little lonely and sad on his birthday with one of the Hazbin Hotel guys? 👉👈

Sorry if your requests are currently closed

🍞 anon

Never felt so Alone

Angel dust x reader

During your human life you were like a ghost, you didn’t have nobody but yourself. All your birthdays were spent eating the whole ice cream birthday cake by yourself. You died by Suicide, when you entered hell it was no different from your regular life.

That was until you met Charlie and Vaggie, they took you in to the Hotel of redemption. It just started with three and yet you never told them about you birthday.

You continued to spend it alone until you met Angel Dust, You didn’t like him yet you didn’t hate him either but you tolerated him.

On February 14 was your day but also Valentine’s day, You stayed in your room with your hoodie down showing your shadowing face. You looked out the window to see the same red sky’s and demons killing one another per usual.

You spent the whole day avoiding people until night, You looked at the clock to see 9:55 pm.

“It’s almost over” You mumbled that’s when angel burst in making you jump and look at him to see him holding a Birthday cake and Valentine chocolates?

“Sorry I’m late babes, I had work and then I had to pick up the cake, and Oh! I got your favorite chocolates” Angel dust huffed from all the running. You raised an eyebrow at him with a questioning look.

“Oh I forgot. Happy Birthday Hot stuff” Angel dust said casually yet cheerfully putting all the stuff down on the table making you blush but then realized what he said.

“Wait What? How did you find out?” You asked shocked that he even knows.

“I just looked at your id” He simply said making you bang your head on the wall ready to smash it if needed.

“Don’t worry toots your secret is safe with me of course. Now let’s eat the cake” He said excitedly making you sit next to him. “What kind of cake is it Angel?” You asked giving in to the temptation of having someone spend time with you on your birthday.

“It’s a red velvet cake Toots” He answered putting on Candles for you to blow out.

“Happy birthday babes now blow out your candles” He said before kissing your temple as you blowed out your candles.

“Now let’s eat cake!” You said with a rare smile

You had a feeling you weren’t gonna be alone no more. With him around you knew you weren’t gonna be by yourself anymore.

[artbyblastweave]

So I want to draw out some of the grousings I put in the tags of @phaeton-flier's recent post on Waller's characterization in My Adventures with Superman.

I think the problem you're gonna run into with adapting Waller in 2024 is that they basically nailed her completely twenty years ago in the DCAU Justice League continuity, they already captured the perfect balance of good intentions and ruthless utilitarian amorality. In the DCAU, Waller's arrival on the scene was contextualized by more than a decade of superheroic precedent- she lives in a world where Superman specifically got brainwashed into attacking earth, she lives in a world where Kryptonian war criminals took a shot at Earth, she lives in a world where an alternate-universe totalitarian Superman crossed dimensional boundaries to take a shot at earth. She lives in a world where Superman helped disarm the world's nuclear arsenal at the behest of a guy who turned out to be the fifth column for an extraterrestrial invasion. She lives in a world where the Justice League formed specifically to stop something similar happening again and then tripped over their own dicks when one of their founding members turned out to be a partisan mole for an extraterrestrial empire. She lives in a world where these city-leveling clowns have consolidated sixty or seventy other city-leveling clowns in an orbiting circus that's armed with a city-leveling orbital laser canon. This is just the stuff that would have made the in-universe news, there's even more I'm not mentioning here. In other words, she lives in a world where it's completely reasonable not to trust the superheroes and to want to have contingencies against them.

She does horrible things in pursuit of those contingencies, but they're targeted, goal oriented horrible things. Aside from her usual suicide squad routine she clones and basically enslaves dozens of super-soldiers, which is of course terrible on the face of it, but comparatively easy to justify from the realpolitik cold-equation way in which she approaches things. When her bullshit generates externalities for civilians, it's not because she sics those super soldiers on them. She doesn't declare martial law. That's not what she's after! She just keeps losing control of the bastards, and then she shrugs, and she signs off on additional bastards from scientists and magicians who've proven time and time again that they do not have their shit buttoned down- but what else is she going to do? Roll over? Let the capes treat the world like their playground?

Crucially, the DCAU version is also capable of realizing when she's prioritized the wrong threat- she's capable of re-evaluating and de-escalating. She's got a foil on that show, a guy who starts from the same place of concern as her but isn't capable of course-correcting because he's too much of a belligerent paranoid maniac. That guy is General Wade Eiling. And in a version of MAWS that doesn't need to set Sam Lane up for a redemption arc, I would have Waller as the one in Sam's position, as the well-meaning extremist who loses control of the monster she created and gets frozen out in favor of a significantly less principled hardliner in the form of Eiling. Alas.

The fundamental thing about Waller, at least to me, is that she's uninteresting as a ground-floor antagonist. While I've yet to get around to the original Suicide Squad run where Waller originated, I'm confident in my understanding that it was a postmodern project from the word go, exploiting years of ossified genre convention and rogue's gallery bloat to make the points that it was trying to make. This is part of why I think the first Suicide Squad film went over like a lead balloon- it tried to wish that built-up continuity into existence out of nowhere, whereas the second movie was simply a lot more naturalistic about faking that larger context. This show feels like it's doing something similar on a meta-level- exploiting decades of audience familiarity with Waller and how plots involving her tend to go, in a way that papers over how weirdly early in the progression of this continuity they've brought her into the fray. She usually isn't the joyless jackboot on the frontline trying to snuff out the incipient heroic age- she's the beleaguered repairmen brought in years after the novelty has worn off, after the superheroes have had their goddamn chance, with all the ups and downs and near-misses that entails, so that she can make entirely novel mistakes in reaction to that context. As it stands, she's kind of 0 to 100 in this, and something about it feels off.

[subway-tolkien]

Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.

This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.

Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.

Listen. Listen.

Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.

But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.

Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.

S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.

Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.

(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).

Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.

But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.

[Stares in Voltron S8]

And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.

They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?

Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.

Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.

Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.

He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.

“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”

You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.

I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.

But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.

If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.

I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.

So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.

Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.

In the end, it all came down to love.

“There he is.”

Goodbye, Blackbeard.

Hello, Ed.

[theinfinitelibrarysystem]

bnha/mha, my criticisms.

the order in which i put them does not imply I think some of these issues are worse or not as bad as others, it's just the order I think of them in.

1- bakugou katsuki. a bully who doesn't change, but gets worse. from suicide baiting, to attempted murder, and is consistently forgiven and encouraged by every character in the entire story and the fandom.

2- the sexism in the story and fandom. (I went on a whole rant about this but I don't want to write too much about it because it enrages me)

3- fanservice. and the fact that when a male character is used for fanservice it empowers them (male characters uniforms being broken, exposing muscular chests, while female character's exposure does not flaunt their strength, just beauty and sex appeal, even teenagers.)

4- THE FACT THAT THE ONLY TRANS CHARACTERS ARE EITHER A VILLAIN WHO DIED OR A SIDE CHARACTER.

5- character annihilation for the sake of the plot. fuck the plot. characters matter more.

6- eraserhead's shitty teaching and how the fandom sees him as a good teacher or even a father figure.

7- quirkless discrimination and how unadressed it was and how izuku just got over it after a bit in high school even with his lifelong abuser there.

8- 1-A abandonning izuku and before that forcing him to come with them to UA, endangering those sheltering there.

9- Eri being rescued from those who used her only to be used in a different way but it's fine because using a child for her quirk is moral if the heroes do it. 10- bad representation of teenagers and children.

11- HORRIBLE representation of people of colour. mirko is an angry and violent character who is blunt in her words. Rock Lock is also an angry character, and any very reasonable suggestions and remarks he has are ignored. it is a very common trope to have black characters always be angry, and while yes they can be, it speaks a lot about the writer that your only black characters fit the stereotype.

11- idolisation of america.

12- endeavours "redemption"

13- lack of quirkless characters (what happened to 20% of the population?)

14- mineta's entire existence

15- shit pacing

16- shit plot

17- shit characters

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 30

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: A Vow Of Devotion

Notes: !!!!Extra warnings for this chapter added !!!!

Trigger warning for this chapter: !!!!This chapter very briefly mentions the memory of a child abuse attempt. It also mentions the memory of a SA attempt. Neither of them involve y/n and neither of them are descriptive. !!!!

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  30/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The warmth inside the cave had successfully dried most of your jacket, the warm sun would do the rest as you rode a little behind Gawain and Lancelot. Percival was seated in front of Lancelot and had not said much since leaving the cave and neither had Lancelot. It was Gawain who kept the conversation going by trying to inform the three of you how things were among the Fey these days. Lancelot sometimes replied to him and it showed that he knew more of Fey customs than anyone had expected. There had to be things he remembered of his past and things he had learned after having hunted the Fey for so long, it was not unusual for one to become quite knowledgeable on the subject of that which they spend most of their time on. You had not said much in the past hours, the afternoon sun was warming your back as you just listened to Gawain talk about Nimue.

“She would not want you to weep for her.” Gawain said to Percival.

Percival snapped his eyes away, clearly not happy to hear that. “The paladins made her fall and drown! Why can I not weep?!”

Gawain tried to explain that it was only meant to comfort him, “Percival, I did not mean that-”

“I hate them! I hate them all!” The boy snapped.

Lancelot tensed up behind him but tried to mask the reaction by readjusting how he was seated. Then Percival threatened to dismount, but he prevented it. “Percival.”

Percival hated that others would see the tears that threatened to blur his vision again, hearing about Nimue and how she had died was too much for him.

Lancelot held the boy seated securely in front of him, lowering his voice to calm him, “No one here will mock you for weeping. Mourn your friend without reservation.”

Gawain gave a reassuring nod towards Percival when the boy looked at him again. “My words were meant to offer comfort, they were not meant to upset you.”

“Fine.” Percival sighed, shaking the outburst from his shoulders.

Relief washed through all, Gawain chose a different topic to speak about. This time he spoke of the time where Lancelot had tried to burn him alive in a mill, and when you looked at the Ash Man for an explanation he kept his eyes straight ahead.

“He never told me that.” you bitterly said.

Gawain looked at you. “He does not appear to be a man of many words.”

There was still no eye-contact from the culprit. “And certainly not when it could bring him trouble.”

Lancelot scoffed, finally breaking the silence, “I had my orders. They wanted you, Green Knight, because you had killed many of the paladins. The Church was pressuring Father into capturing those with the strongest influence among the Fey.”

Gawain smiled, finding it amusing. “I suppose I could take it as a compliment.”

“I did capture you.” Lancelot still sounded proud of that achievement.

Gawain tried to temper that pride. “Yes. After a lot of effort.”

Percival found it the perfect timing to speak up on the fight he had witnessed between them, telling Gawain, “He fights faster than you.”

Lancelot turned his head the other side, hiding the victorious smile from the knight upon hearing the child sound so impressed.

Gawain send Percival a look, “Who’s side are you on, boy?”

That cheeky child grinned at the knight, knowing exactly how to get on his nerves.

Gawain shook his head, not giving either of them anymore attention. “We should stop at Crowgrove and acquire supplies, unless we wish to starve on our way to Gramaire.”

“Very well.” Lancelot agreed on that plan, he looked back at you, “Do you still have the pouch I gave you?”

A bad feeling sank itself into your stomach, quickly you searched your satchel. The pouch was no longer in there. “I don’t… I’m sorry. My father must have taken it.”

“It is not your fault.” he quickly said, then looked at Gawain. “We could trade?”

“Trade what?” Gawain asked.

“I still have my daggers.” Lancelot suggested.

Gawain pointed out a problem, “If we offer a merchant there one of those daggers, it will get us unwanted attention. They have the symbol of the Church on them, do they not?”

Lancelot nodded disappointed. “Then what can we trade?”

“We’ll see what we can do once we are there.” The knight sighed, not having an answer to that problem yet.

A loud scream coming from the left of you startled all, Lancelot by reflex held up a hand to signal the rest of you to stop. More screams traveled through the forest fast, you could hear people run.

Gawain spotted the origin of the sound. “Paladins. They are chasing two Fey women into the woods.”

The knight began to ride towards the sound, Lancelot called out to him, “Green Knight, we shouldn’t. If they see us alive-”

“You should not, but I do. I will not ignore their call for help.” Gawain was firm on that and gave the Ash Man a disappointed look. “My people need me. Ride ahead, I will find you.” The knight left no room for debate and rode towards the danger.

Lancelot sighed, swallowing down the curse he wished to emit. “Percival, dismount and ride with her until I return.”

“But-” Percival did not want to miss out on the action.

“Now.” he told him.

He helped the boy slide down from Goliath, and whilst you helped Percival up on your horse Lancelot put his bow into his lap then spurred Goliath on into a gallop. What you didn’t understand was why he wasn’t riding in the same direction Gawain had gone in.

“Do we have to just wait here?” Percival sounded appalled.

You didn’t plan to wait and see if they came back alive or not, even though they had clearly thought you would. But there was a child with you. “It’s dangerous…”

Percival looked back at you, reading the truth right out of your eyes.

“Fine. But we don’t get too close and we stay hidden, understood?” you knew that it was a risk with the boy’s unpredictable character.

When Percival promised not to take risks, you rode in the direction that the sound came from. By the time you were almost close, you could hear a fight going on. You halted the horse, dismounted and hid with Percival among the bushes and trees. Gawain was at a distance, fighting a group of paladins while two young Fey women and him were cornered by a rock formation. It was not a fair fight, five against one, Gawain was defending more than he could attack.

“Percival, I need to help him. Swear to me that you will stay hidden!” you held him by the shoulder. When he did not answer right away, you gave him a little shake. “Percival?”

The boy nodded. “I’ll stay out of sight.”

“Good lad.” you cupped his cheek for a moment, then quickly moved through the bushes towards the Green Knight.

Gawain noticed you approaching and looked both relieved by the incoming help, and annoyed that you had chosen to engage in battle.

You drew your sword and stepped into the sight of the paladins, one turned to look your way. Another was charging at the knight, that paladin’s plan was ruined when an arrow landed into the side of his neck and the force of it send him to the ground. Gawain looked around for a second, then continued to fight the other paladins who were clearly confused by the fatal arrow. You warded off the attack of the paladin who had noticed you by holding your sword vertically and swung your sword at him next, he evaded your sword but an arrow pierced itself into his chest and you stumbled back away from him. That had been too close for comfort, you looked where the arrow must have traveled from and spotted Lancelot up on the rock formation as he took aim again at the remaining paladins. He would not have a drop of blood on him whilst killing his former red brothers up from that advantage point. With the low supplies in mind, you grabbed hold of the arrow lodged into the paladin’s chest and pulled it free. Another had taken advantage of your brief moment of distraction to try and grab you from behind.

“I remember you!” he loudly exclaimed. “The Weeping Monk’s whore!”

You turned the arrow in your hand and with a quick backwards motion you stabbed the arrowhead into his cheek and pulled it free right away, blood splattered onto your shoulder and neck. It was nauseating but you did not falter, by turning into his hold you broke free and stabbed him with the arrowhead in the neck. Blood gushed out of his neck and you backed away to avoid getting it on yourself but you still felt the blood splatters land on your face. When you looked up, Gawain was delivering the death blow to the last paladin. The knight then noticed you and the state of your appearance, and what he saw must have startled him.

He called out to you, “Are you alright?”

It took you a few seconds to answer, “Yes.”

He turned to the frightened Fey women to talk to them and you approached them. They had been on their way home with their family when they encountered the paladins, they got seperated from the rest of them when they had run.

“They are not far.” Lancelot came from between the trees, having overheard the conversation. Percival was at his side.

The women cowered away in terror at the sight of him and it took Gawain some effort to assure them that Lancelot was no threat to them. You noticed the hurt in Lancelot’s eyes at witnessing their reaction to his presence.

Still, the Ash Man tried to help. “I can lead you to them.”

The women had their arms hooked together, seeking support and comfort with each other. They looked at you and Percival, and how you both had no fear of the one they so feared.

You saw it as a quiet request for your opinion. “We can help you. Lancelot can bring you to your family.”

“He’ll kill them.” The auburn haired woman said.

At that, Lancelot send his gaze to the grass, he had wanted to walk away but Percival took hold of his sleeve and wouldn’t let him. Someone needed to be his voice, for he would not be it for himself now you realized. You turned to the women.

“He saved my life, he saved Percival’s life. He just helped the Green Knight save you. Trust him to help you when he says he will, I promise it is worth it.” you spoke with fervor, then walked away to collect the arrows that had been used.

The women looked between the two men and the boy who had not expected you to speak so strongly for the former Weeping Monk. You heard a few sentences being spoken between them all, then Lancelot came to you just as you took out the arrow lodged into a paladin’s stomach.

“I am going to retrieve the horses, I will be back in a moment.” he informed. “We’ll lead them to their family and resume our journey afterwards.”

You were glad to hear it. “They are just frightened, they don’t know you like we do.”

He fidgeted with the bow, stealing the bloodied arrows from your hand. “I saw you fight. You are getting better.”

You picked up on that nervous note in his voice. “Truly?”

“Yes.” he liked to see that smile on your face. “We shall stop by a river so you can wash the blood off.”

Almost had you forgotten about the blood that had splattered onto your face. “That would be lovely. Oh, and uhm… that was impressive archery you displayed.”

“Thank you.” His eyes darted over your face, then he shook his head as if he wished to erase his thoughts and walked off.

The reaction was so odd that it left you a bit dumbfounded, Gawain began to walk towards you with Percival and the Faun Folk women and gave you a curious look. You shrugged your shoulders a little, acting like it was nothing important. Mere minutes later, Lancelot returned riding Goliath, the reins of the other horses in his hand. Gawain let the two women mount Gringolet and decided to walk beside them whilst Lancelot led the way. You rode beside Lancelot with Percival seated in front of you, watching how easily the Ash Man could find the rest of the Faun family. You wondered if your sense of smell would ever be that strong. He halted before he’d get too close and risk scaring away the Fey up ahead.

“They are over there.” he pointed to a spot further away with a lot of birch trees that had grown closely together.

Gawain helped the women dismount and walked the distance with them towards the spot that Lancelot had pointed out. Lancelot kept a watchful eye and saw the women reunite with their family, they all spoke to the knight for a little while. In the meantime Percival switched horses to ride with Lancelot again.

When Gawain returned, he walked past Goliath to mount his horse. “They asked me to thank you for helping them.”

Lancelot only nodded, still thinking about how they had reacted just by the sight of him and what they had said.

Gawain was grateful for the help. “And I am glad to see that you came to aid me, I did not know for certain if you would.”

“I swore to Percival that I would help the Fey where I could.” he said.

Gawain saw it differently. “I think you decided to help not because of a promise, but because you knew it was the right choice to do so.”

They shared a look amongst each other, and you knew the knight had made the right assumption.

Gawain leaned forward a little to look past Lancelot at you. “We’ll travel along the river to Crowgrove, so your dear friend can get that blood off of her. We do not want to alarm the villagers.”

“That bad, huh?” you winced.

Lancelot looked at you, a smirk formed on his lips when he decided how to answer. “It could be worse.”

Gawain rolled his eyes and straightened his back. “You would tell her she looks beautiful even if she would be drenched in mud from her head to her feet.”

The smirk vanished from Lancelot’s face and he looked ahead instead. Percival frowned for a second, then looked at the Ash Man from the corner of his eyes with suspicion. You knew what the knight was insinuating but ignored it just as you had done so when the paladins would share their opinions on the connection between you and Lancelot. Until last night he had not crossed that line, and he had only done so because he was consumed by grief. Gawain began to ride again, leading you back on the road to Crowgrove.

        About an hour had past before reaching the river. The plan was to stop for a moment, then continue along the river to reach Crowgrove. The chance to wash the blood off was not one you would pass up on. After tying the reins of the grey mare to a tree, you went to the riverbank and knelt down to splash water up in your face. Gawain and Percival took seat on the grass to enjoy the sun. Lancelot strolled over to you, watching the river’s stream as he stood a few steps away. Because of the warm sun, the temperature of the water was just right and a contented hum sounded from deep within your chest.

He had forgotten all he had come to say, the moment he saw that water drip along your neck his thoughts were diluted by invasive ones he could not stop. The warm river water mixed with your scent was pleasing his senses greatly.

You were in the midst of trying to wash the blood out of your sleeve when noticing that he was trying not to stare. The jest fell, “Here to make sure I clean myself well?”

Immediately he forced his eyes to the river. “Did Lord Leoric do so?” he blurted out.

It made you go quiet for a few seconds. Now you were the one staring at him.

“I am concerned.” he admitted. “You were locked in that room, told to bathe against your will… were there other matters forced on you?”

You shook your head. “Not the sort that you think may have happened. Lord Leoric saw me as an oddity for him to study, he wanted me to be perfect like a statue for display.”

He was relieved to hear it. “Forgive me for pressing the matter. When I was with the Red Paladins, I bore witness to the atrocities they tried to commit when they thought I was not there to see it.”

You looked up at him in shock.

He swallowed hard, jaw tense as he spoke. “Not all kept to the vow. I caught three of them, all on separate occasions, attempting to force themselves on women.”

He was not comfortable to speak of it, the memory visibly unsettled him to recall. You were very quiet while listening.

He looked behind him to make certain Percival was nowhere close enough to hear. “I did warn them that I would be unforgiving if I learned of such behavior. And I was.”

“You killed them?” you asked.

He gave a sharp nod. “A benefit of making them fear me was that no one dared to cross me. And even if they had told Father, I would have been forgiven.”

“Because you were his greatest weapon.” you concluded.

He hummed in agreement. When a silence fell, you could just sense that there was something he was holding back on saying.

It felt like it was a personal matter he had not spoken off. “Lancelot… not many would have reacted the way you did. The way you defended those women…”

He knew what you were trying to gently inquire about. “When I was around Percival’s age, I was made directly aware of how some abused their authority and strength.”

Your heart sank. “Did they…”

“One tried. I sensed his intent when he lured me into the woods where he then voiced it to me.” he quietly said. “My sword was quicker. I did not give him the chance to get closer to me. He was one of the first that met their end at my blade.”

Slowly you rose from the grass and got closer to him, not really knowing what to say to the memory he just entrusted you with.

He continued, very careful that no one else could hear. “I grew to know that I had to keep them in their place, and when I was put in command I let my opinion on it be known.”

You placed a hand on his arm softly. “Thank you for telling me, it can’t have been easy to do. Now I understand why you are so concerned that something of the sort happened to me.”

He placed a hand over the one you had on his arm. “Can we keep this between us?”

“I won’t tell another soul.” you vowed.

His thumb brushed along yours. “It was many years ago, but I will never forget the fear that went through me. I was fortunate to have my sword with me that day.” A sigh. “This is why I feared I had done an unforgivable thing last night.”

You put his worries to rest, “It was never your intent to hurt me and you haven’t. I’ve always known that you have morals, and I have no doubt that you would never do or allow such a thing.”

He was so relieved to hear you speak of your faith in his character. “Thank you, for saying that.”

You withdrew your hand slowly. “And if I have ever made you uncomfortable, by embracing you for example, I apologize. I will be considerate of -”

He was quick to assure that it had not been the case, catching your hand before it could fully leave him. “I trust you. Do not let what I just spoke of stop you from showing your warmth towards me.” He feared it would make you hold back on showing such familiarity again. “I have gone without it until I met you, now I fear I would mourn it’s absence greatly.”

It was such a sweet thing to hear, so surprisingly lovely that you were a bit stunned, a shy smile danced on your lips. “It’s uhm… I am very glad to hear you say that.”

He let go of your hand, suddenly becoming aware of how he had been absentmindedly playing with your fingers a little. Deeply he inhaled, exhaling an unsteady breath. “I should go and speak to Gawain, hear what plan he has for once we reach Crowgrove.”

Before he walked away, he picked up your jacket from the ground to hand it over and you gave him your sweetest smile while plucking it from his hands. Three full seconds passed before he walked to where Gawain and Percival where seated. You put your jacket back on and walked a bit further along the river with a plan in mind. By practicing on using your heightened sense of smell, you picked up on the sweet scent of flowers. There was just one problem, it came from across the river and you would have to walk over a fallen tree that laid across it. Carefully you climbed up on the thick tree trunk and tried to find the right way to balance your feet on it.

“What are you doing?” Lancelot stopped a few feet away, looking very, very confused. Gawain and Percival stopped beside him, looking rather curious to see what you would do or maybe even waiting to see you fall in the river and ruin your attire.

“Nothing, just let me do this. I’ll come back to this side in a moment.” you waved him away.

He brow arched daringly, you sensed what he would do and quickly moved over the tree before he could try to stop you, he was not fast enough to grab your arm.

“Dammit-” the curse fell out of him and he grimaced at his inability to prevent it, especially around Percival. “Get back here!”

You shouted back whilst slowly walking over the trunk. “Gods! I’m not going to drown in this river, Lancelot! Just wait there, it’s alright.”

“I like her.” Gawain had his arms crossed in front of his chest, highly entertained by the shenanigans.

A frown formed on the Ash Man’s forehead as he looked at the knight, but Percival moved and before the boy could take another step towards that tree trunk he had caught him by the back of his jacket. “Stay.”

With small effort, you reached the other side of the river and turned around with a victorious expression. Gawain looked proud, Percival looked envious and Lancelot was looking at you in a scolding manner. You turned in the direction of that sweet scent and found it’s origin in the form of purple flowers growing onto a rock on the ground. You plucked some, just enough for your purpose, then headed back to the tree trunk to cross the river again.

As expected Lancelot scolded you once reaching the other side of it. “We should not wander off. Must I remind you that the Church is looking for us?”

You ended his lecture by putting one of the flowers into his hand. “I am aware. Now have this.”

He blinked twice, then looked down at the flower in his hand. You did not wait for him to start scolding you again and went over to Percival to give him a flower too.

You hoped it would bring them some happiness in their grief. “A sweet smelling flower for a sweet boy.”

A pink hue came over Percival’s cheeks as he accepted the flower and brought it to his nose.

Lastly, you gave one to Gawain. “For helping us.”

The knight gave a polite bow of the head and took the flower from your hand. “I do not believe I have ever received a flower before. What a sweet lady you are.”

You grinned. “I am honored to be the first.”

Gawain went to his horse and put the flower in the saddlebag for safe-keeping. Percival was still smelling the flower, then stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket. By the time you looked at Lancelot, the flower you had given him was nowhere to be seen. Had he tossed it away for ignoring his scolding? Or did the flower smell bad to his more attuned heightened sense of smell? You walked up to him, reaching him just as he stopped by Goliath.

He was inspecting the saddle. “Gawain believes we will reach Crowgrove by evening. He knows the innkeeper there so we will have a place to sleep for a night.”

You failed to keep the disappointment hidden in your voice, “Did you not like the flower?”

A frown creased his forehead, he moved his cloak a little to the side and there sat the flower safely in the sheath of his short sword. He took it between his fingers.

“I thought-…” you stopped yourself.

He grew curious. “Did you fear I had disposed of it already?”

You had the most guilty expression. “Did you smell it? It has such an intensely sweet scent.”

He could smell them from across the river, but this endearing gesture made him withhold that information this time.

He carefully put the flower in Goliath’s saddle bag. “I have. You were able to detect the scent from across the river? Well done.”

The praise was nice to hear. “It’s still hard to separate all the scents and focus on the ones I wish to focus on.”

��With time, it will grow easier. I promise.” he said. “And to answer your question, yes, I do like the flower.”

He said it with such intonation, as if he just knew that you were waiting to hear his approval of the flower, or at least the gesture of it. You smiled timidly, happy that it had given him some joy during his grieving.

“It’s scent is as sweet as the heart of the one who gave it.” he complimented.

Your eyes slightly widened, did your ears trick you into believing that it was said in a flirtatious manner? A second passed before you regained control over your thoughts.

Gawain called out, “We should get going if we want to reach Crowgrove before the night.”

You stepped away from Lancelot and headed to your horse, unable to shake the feeling that something more than friendship had grown between you. When still living among the paladins, you had once truly believed that your presence around him had made him tempted to sin, he had that look in his eyes even just for the briefest second. Then everything went to shambles and it had been a whirlwind of events since then. His presence was definitely… titillating. But was it worth risking the loss of a friendship? For what? Lust? Curiosity? It was a fragile thing, friendship and trust, so strong yet so easily broken. He was a monk…he was a monk… he was a monk… and you couldn’t forget that. It was a large part of how he became who he was now.

Maybe there was attraction. And maybe you were afraid to expect more, for more was complicated, more could break your heart and it had been broken one too many a times already. To be greedy was to risk it all. Time would tell where this would lead to, all you wished for was that it would not lead you both on separate paths.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  It was not a moment too soon when you reached the village. The sun had gone down and it felt terribly tempting to shut your eyes by the gentle swaying of the horse’s walk. That tempting feeling was smacked away by Gawain who swatted against your leg to keep you awake, it startled you so much that the small surge of adrenaline kept you awake enough to ride into the village. Percival, who sat with Lancelot on Goliath, had spend a few minutes talking to you to keep you awake. The boy had a way to visually describe how your limbs could look if you fell off of the horse if you fell asleep on it, it was helpful to keep you awake.

Gawain rode closer to Lancelot. “Lancelot, it would be wise to keep your head down and in that hood. I have heard them speak of you here, let us not risk being found.”

He gave a nod. “I’ve been here before. I will remain discreet.”

“Shouldn’t you hide those?” Percival turned a little and pointed right at the markings of the Ash Folk.

“It’s dark now.” Gawain said. “The shadows are our friend and we should leave at dawn to avoid drawing attention.”

“Are you certain it will be safe for him here?” you asked.

“We will keep him safe.” The knight jested, until he saw the serious look on your face. “He will be safe. I promise.”

It had better be true. “Good.”

The knight spoke to Lancelot in a hushed tone. “She is as protective of you, as you are of her.”

Lancelot hid the smile underneath the shadow of his hood. “Ash Folk are rare. We should look after each other.”

Gawain gave a pensive hum and leaded the way to the inn, there weren’t many people still walking around most had gone to bed. The inn was quite large, and beside it was a large stable as well. At Gawain’s request, the horses were brought into the stable.

“Wait here. I’ll go and speak to my friend Samuel, the innkeeper, first.” The knight had said before heading into the inn alone.

A few minutes past before he returned, Gawain stopped beside Percival. “Two rooms, one night and we can have a meal. How do we divide the rooms between us?”

Lancelot was quick to answer. “Percival and her will share a room.”

“Good solution.” Gawain mumbled to him under his breath, sending him a knowing look.

“How so?” you said before putting much thought into it.

Gawain did not hold back on speaking his opinion. “I’ve known Percival for quite some time, Lancelot knows that the boy is safe with me. But he is not sure if he can trust me with you. And neither will he choose to share a room with you alone, it would be bordering on a sin.”

You saw Lancelot grow uncomfortable, especially when the boy looked up at him inquisitively. “The three of us could share a room again. We’ve done so before.”

Gawain pointed out the issue with that. “Somebody would have to sleep on the floor then, the rooms only have two beds each. And I believe we all need our rest.”

“Fine. Percival and I will take the other room for ourselves.” you gave in.

Gawain beckoned for all to follow. “Come. There are not many people in the inn still awake, we can have our meal.”

Lancelot did not seem too happy with what the knight had told you, but you saw no reason for him to be embarrassed. It was thoughtful that he would share a room with someone who was still somewhat of a stranger to you, so you wouldn’t have to.

“Thank you.” you quickly whispered to him as you walked into the inn, and saw Lancelot acknowledge it with a nod.

Gawain wisely chose a table in the corner for all to sit at. The barmaid was at his side almost instantly to ask what he’d like to have, and from the looks of it she was hoping he would choose her. But no, the oblivious knight chose the broth that had been freshly prepared that day. The barmaid turned to leave.

“Could I have some water?” Percival whispered to you, because he didn’t want to let the others find out he was to shy to ask the barmaid himself.

“I’ll ask.” you whispered back, then called out for her, “Ameli-”

Your voice faltered, you dropped your eyes to the table. Amelia… the memory of her dying in your arms in the dark, murdered by those who were send by Aldith. The barmaid had turned to see why someone was calling out the name, Gawain looked at you confused.

Lancelot stepped in, asking Percival, “Was there something you wanted?”

“Water.” the boy admitted after seeing the saddened look in your eyes.

“Some water for the boy.” Lancelot let it be known to Gawain.

The knight called the barmaid, Cecilia, over again and put in his request for water to be brought to the table. She smiled at him and Percival, assuring them she would be right back with some water for all. The moment she returned with the jug of water and tankards, you poured one full for Percival and then for yourself. To wash down that lump that had formed in your throat.

“You alright?” Gawain looked over at you.

You feigned a smile and gave a nod, hoping that was a good enough answer. But alas, the knight was perceptive.

“The eyes never lie, Ash Woman.” the knight said.

You kept the explanation short. “Amelia was the innkeeper that my father’s men killed when they came to capture me in her inn.”

“I am sorry.” He gave a sympathetic look.

“Yeah…” you avoided eye-contact with all and began to eat your broth the second Cecilia placed it on the table.

Gawain fixed his attention on the other two Fey at the table. “Samuel has promised to give me some necessities for the rest of the way to Gramaire.”

“Would he have some ointment for her arm?” Percival suddenly asked.

All looked at the boy, not expecting the considerate question at all. Your spoon had stopped midway to your mouth.

“I will ask.” Gawain said, patting Percival on the shoulder.

You managed to give a genuine small smile to the sweet boy next to you, musing, “What would I do without you?”

Percival looked so happy to be acknowledged in such a way, you took note of it to remind him of his accomplishments more often. You continued to eat your broth and the rest of the table ate mostly in silence. It was palpable that all were tired after traveling all day, and the days had not been easy.

Cecilia brought two bowls with sliced apples to the table, placing one next to Gawain and Lancelot. Gawain put it between Percival and him, while Lancelot put the bowl beside you. You took a slice of apple and took a careful bite, the juice dripped down your mouth a little by biting it and you wiped it away with your finger.

“These are good.” you told Percival and it made the boy taste the apple slices too.

Lancelot had his elbows on the table and you felt his eyes on you, you had nearly finished the slice of apple when he was still looking.

You picked up the bowl with apple slices and offered them to him. “Do you want to taste?”

Taste… his thoughts had wandered too far. He had to reel them in.

He blinked twice rapidly, cleared his throat, his answer came quite delayed. “No, thank you.”

Gawain was watching the interaction with curiosity. Lancelot was not aware of it, but you were. You fixed your eyes on the bowl of apples, trying to ignore the feeling it caused in your chest to have the attention of the heavens in Lancelot’s eyes.

The knight tried not to smile when he took a sip of water, he directed himself to Lancelot. “How did the Abbot come to know of your secret? You were obviously careful to not let it come to light.”

Lancelot tilted his head in your direction, answering in silence. Gawain frowned in confusion.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What do I have to do with it? I never told the Abbot of what you were.”

Lancelot took a sip of water. “Are you aware that your markings glowed crimson in the forest when you used the Fey Fire to ward me off?”

“I-” you touched your cheek were your mark would be if it was visible.

“And you were sat atop of a horse, where the paladins could see.” he pointed out. “I did tell you once that there were rotten apples among the lot. I believe they told the Abbot.”

You got very quiet. They could have killed him, and it was because they had seen your markings and made the connection.

Gawain shook his head. “Loyalty is a word the paladins do not know of.”

Lancelot noticed your silence, his hand came to rest on your lower arm. “What is it?”

“They could have killed you.” you quietly said. “Because they saw my marks…”

He brushed his hand over your arm, then took a light hold. “You fear I blame you for how the Abbot learned the truth?”

It just didn’t sit well with you, things could have played out very differently. “If you hadn’t left when you did-”

“No.” he shook his head, giving your arm a squeeze. “Everything you did in the forest that day, was justified. If I had not left, if I had not helped Percival, we would not be here like this and my death would have been deserved for what I did.”

Percival was looking at Lancelot’s hand on your arm. You pulled your arm back and put your hands into your lap. Only then did Lancelot’s eyes dart to Gawain very quickly and away again.

Gawain cleared his throat. “Shall I ask for another serving of broth?”

“Yes.” you quickly said.

The knight proceeded to beckon for Cecilia and surprisingly enough charmed her into bringing another serving of broth for all. You were grateful for the distraction it brought.

        After the peaceful meal, a modest sack of needed matters was gifted to the knight by the barmaid, Samuel had kept his word. Then Gawain led the way to the rooms that had been offered. They were a decent size, not small, just right. A small table stood against the wall with a chair, some supplies to write and read. Two comfortable looking small beds and a wardrobe to store some clothing. It was enough to accommodate you for the night. Percival followed you into the room after you both wished the others a good night. The boy chose the bed closest to the wall and let himself drop down on it, arms splayed open like a bird in flight. The bed by the window would be yours for the night, you draped your jacket over the foot of it.

“Percival, no shoes in the beds.” you told him.

The boy got out of the bed. “I’m hungry.”

You swiftly turned. “You just ate…”

He shrugged his shoulders meekly. “Sorry…”

“You could ask Gawain?” you suggested.

“Could you ask?” he winced a little.

It was clear he feared being denied. You gave a nod and steered him with you to the room where Gawain and Lancelot were, knocking on their door twice.

Gawain opened the door, you could see that Lancelot was sitting on one of the beds in the room. “Problems?”

“Yes. Big ones.” you jested. “Our young knight is still hungry.”

Gawain sighed a little, but was understanding. “Still growing. And the war has been the hardest on our young ones. Come, Percival. I will ask Samuel for something to eat.”

The knight stepped outside, closing the door behind him and beckoned for Percival to follow. You returned to your room and took place at the table, putting your satchel down on it and taking out your journal. Carefully you dipped the quill in the ink, then began to write down the events that had transpired again. It felt freeing to write it all down, and you felt a bit more comfortable sharing details at the discretion of the pages. After only a few sentences, you heard the door creak open and abruptly turned to see who it was.

Lancelot slowly wandered into the room, noticing the journal on the table right away. He put down a small bowl, with the top covered in a piece of linen, on the bed, “A salve for your arm, it was in the sack. The barmaid must have overheard Percival speak of it.”

“Oh, that is a welcome help.” It would help with the burning sensation in your arm from the cut. “Are you sure you do not need it for yourself?”

He watched you sit on the chair. “I have some as well. And Gawain spoke of visiting the village’s healer before we leave in the morrow, the knight has many friends it seems.”

It had sounded a bit envious, which you understood. “Well, he is a knight. I do not think he was given that title without helping many people.”

He hummed in agreement. “Sharing your thoughts with the journal I see.” He nodded in it’s direction. “Am I mentioned again?”

“Maybe.” You bit your cheek. “Afraid of what I’ll write?”

“Not afraid, no. Just curious.” He came closer, stopping at your side, watching how you closed the journal a little so he would not see. But when he reached over and slowly moved his fingers along the binding of it, you let him open the journal. He stood so close that his lower arm was a little against you.

“It would be so much simpler, to read your thoughts from these pages instead of your eyes.” he said.

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” you bit back a cheeky smile.

“They are fathomless.” his fingers traced over the page he had laid open.

You tapped on a corner of the journal. “What are you searching for in there?”

He was purposely vague. “Written evidence of a truth I seek.”

“A truth?” your brow arched high.

His voice deepened slightly, “You wrote of me before. Have you done so again?”

Right then it clicked why he was so interested in your journal. The last thing he had previously found that you had written about him was from before you had learned about Father Carden’s order for him to gain your trust. This was what he was referring to.

“Not in the same manner.” you kept your eyes on the page.

He was quiet for a few seconds, his fingers were at the corner of the page. Finally he turned it, still not saying a word. The sudden tension was causing you to be on edge, you felt like you should say something but didn’t know what. His fingers grazed over yours, very much on purpose, and you stood up so quickly from the chair that it had knocked into him a little. That chair was the only thing left standing between you and him, a futile barrier that offered no aid. He proved how pointless the chair’s barrier was by pushing it calmly out of the way and under the table. He held the back of the chair for a moment, needing time to think. Your eyes traveled to the door, he caught it happening.

“Am I making you want to run out?” he kept holding on to the chair, as if it kept him grounded.

“No.” Your heartbeat was in your throat.

He stepped away from the chair and took small steps in your direction, his feet did not stop until they reached you. “I think about last night constantly.”

He could not stop thinking of how you had weathered the storm he had been that night. That gentle tone of your voice had been a layer of salve on the wound that his heart had obtained. How you told him you’d rather bleed before seeing him bleed again. No, it had not left his mind since, and neither had that feeling of having your lips against his own. Every time you spoke to him, he had to focus on keeping his eyes from straying to the curve of your mouth. One taste was all it took for him to be willing to forsake the vow he took. Why would he still uphold a vow to a god who would never accept him? Why not make another vow, of a different sort, one he would uphold and live by, one that did not reward him with absolution in heaven but with meaning in life instead?

You feared he was still worried. “I told you, I forgive you. And I mean that.”

“You have shown your gentle heart to me again today.” he got quieter. “I pray you may forgive me once more.”

“I-…” The power to speak was stolen from you.

He had cradled your head in his hands and stolen a kiss so fast that you had no time to react. For just a moment, you were frozen, it was the warmth of him that thawed you. He was gingerly tasting your lips, letting your breaths turn into one. After a few seconds he leaned back, very little, to see your eyes. You caught the front of his jerkin between your fingers and pulled him into you, claiming his mouth with a certain greed you could not hide. You reciprocated fiercely, it had taken him off-guard how eager your response was. When you could sense that it may have been a bit too much for him, you stopped. His gaze washed over you and with an urgency his lips came to yours once more, this time they were unwilling to let them free again. He was practicing, that was obvious, and gods it was a blessing to be the person who he had decided to do so with. Not a spot of your lips was left unattended to by his. It was so… innocent? So careful and precise that you smiled against him. How could it be that his inexperience only made it more intriguing and alluring? If this was practise, he proved a quick learner. The only thing you did was let out a content hum, that was it, and at the sound of it he deepened the kiss. It just felt incredible and the longing for it was evidently mutual, you did not question it, you feared to question it. He brought an arm around your back, holding you so close that you could feel his chest rise and fall.

Once, he had tasted them, and now he could not stop longing for them. He didn’t know what caused his senses to be so overwhelmed more, the feeling of your lips against his, or the sound of your quiet gasps for air that he greedily stole away to hear it again. His body warmed, the sensation as if he felt every drop of blood move through his veins. Now that he knew what it felt like to kiss you, he knew he would loath the days without it.

You fought yourself constantly, fought the urge to hold him so strongly that he might believe you’d never let him go again, fought the desire to let your tongue meet his, fearing to do something that may be a step too far for him still. But he appeared to throw caution to the wind and took all he could have. The intensity of him increased, his hold on you got stronger and demanding, with his hand on the back of your neck he put you at his mercy. The gasp that forced it’s way out of you made him lock his mouth around your bottom lip. Your hand snaked into his hood, fingertips slowly weaving themselves into his hair.

He always wondered what it would be like to kiss, yet being kissed back so fierce was beyond what his imagination could come up with. If this was what damned his soul, then he would face the gates of hell with a smile. But sharing a kiss with his wife was not a sin, is what he told himself. But in that moment he cared little if the gods would approve of it or not.

It was as if the world had stopped to exist and there was only him. But the world had not truly stopped, it continued around you and time went on, that became clear when you suddenly became aware of the Sky Folk scent present in the room again. You broke free from Lancelot, leaving him in confusion that lasted only seconds. Neither of you had heard the door being opened again.

Percival stood there, scrunching his nose in an expression of disgust. He send an accusing look Lancelot’s way. “What are you doing?”

It was ridiculous how slow your brain worked after that, and Lancelot seemed to struggle with his own as well.

“Did he hurt you?” The boy stepped forward, not certain what he had just witnessed.

“No.” you quickly said.

Percival’s eyes narrowed, suddenly he bolted out of the room. And right away both knew where the boy was heading to. You touched Lancelot’s arm, but he already knew what to do and went after the boy right away. As you stood there, not really knowing what to do, your mind processed what had just transpired. Gawain’s voice could be heard not far away, the rest was mumbling that you weren’t able to understand. Carefully you went and peeked around the corner of the doorway, seeing the three of them talk. Gawain shot you an inquiring look and you looked back with a guilty expression. It put the knight’s mind to rest and he was able to diffuse the situation between Lancelot and Percival. The boy had been worried by what he had seen and went to the knight to see if this was an alarming matter or not. You had to understand that Percival had not known Lancelot for so long, and that before this he was the Weeping Monk. The boy simply thought he could have been hurting you. With feet that felt like lead, you approached them.

“Nothing bad happened. All is well.” you reassured them, not brave enough to make true eye-contact with any of them.

Percival was looking Lancelot up and down, the poor Ash Man looked like he was expecting to be reprimanded and so were you.

“Well then. We should return to our rooms before we wake half the inn from their slumber.” Gawain said sternly.

Lancelot touched Percival’s shoulder, trying to stay calm and collected under the boy’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Come, Percival.” you told the boy, and to your relief he followed you back into the room.

The moment the door fell shut behind you and Percival, the knight turned to Lancelot.

“Should I be concerned?” Gawain asked him as they walked to their shared room.

“No.” Lancelot said.

The knight gave a short hum, biting his tongue to not press for more information, for he believed that even the Ash Man seemed rather lost in thought about the matter.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten ​​  @the-great-adventures-of-me   @linkpk88   @fxrchxldws @elenaoftheturks ​​  @slytherlight   @beananacake ​​     @crystallizedtime ​​ @moonlightaura03 @angrygardendeer @have-aheart   @5am-cigarette   @arcanenature @thewinterskywalker @notyourwildestdream  

 @coloursforyourportrait   @koressecretidentity   @nike90   @n1ghtlux ​​  @rachlovesactors ​​  @luckyzipperscissorsbat   @morena-doing-stuff   @the-fangirl-diaries ​​  @gipsydanger17   @heavenly1927 ​​ @phantasmalbeiing @labyrinthonmymind @asarcastic-thiamstan @rainyv-skies     @stclairesplace   @​​katjusja @isla-bell-blog   @beebeerockknot   @sahvlren @lancedoncrimsonwings @weird123abc @elizabeth-holland24 @kissingandromeda @timeshiptraveler

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[killkaramazov]

I sort of used to think that the reason there’s no redemption for Smerdyakov’s character is, in part, due to the structural narrative of the novel and the setting— but that doesn’t entirely track on its own, given the themes presented in Crime and Punishment, considering Rodya’s crime is much worse and C&P is ALL about his redemption.

I think the real reason Smerdyakov gets no redemption is the Zhutchka thing.

It is passionately argued and established that Fyodor was no father, and so to murder him was no murder. If that applies to Mitya, then that applies to Smerdyakov even moreso, as Fyodor was, in the most literal sense, never a father to him, and failed him worse than he failed any of his children.

So that cannot be the thing that makes Smerdyakov irredeemable, or the reason he has to die.

We know about the cats, obviously. But that was only ever mentioned in passing, as something he did in childhood. I think that the fact that he has carried that pathology on into adult life is supposed to be received as a significant revelation, and it should be really shocking. It is really shocking. It’s just really fucking horrible to imagine. That whole encounter is shrouded in mystery, and we don’t really get any answers about it, like how these two met or why, or any context other than the fact that Ilusha is, now on his deathbed, completely fucking devastated.

It just sort of implies again that we’re only getting the tip of the iceberg in terms of Smerdyakov’s fucked up pathology. He has an even darker personality than we’ve previously been led to believe.

Y’all KNOW how much I love him, but I agree that if he does anything irredeemable it is that. And I agree that that is irredeemable. His childhood was not his fault, it fucked him up permanently and left him with absolutely no recourse as an adult. I still love him and I don’t even necessarily judge him, even for this, because… how can you?

It may be easy to pass judgment but the reality is that we’re talking about someone so abjectly abused and exploited that that’s not really relevant or appropriate, in my opinion.

Smerdyakov stood absolutely no chance at growing up into a normal, appropriately adjusted adult. The ONE most important thing that might help someone who comes from that kind of background break that cycle of abuse in adulthood is to be met with kindness and compassion. Smerdyakov’s childhood abuse made him weird and disgusting, and now he is shunned for being weird and disgusting.

It’s significant, that Smerdyakov’s one irredeemable act is what he does to Ilusha.

I think it’s also significant that Mitya shares this culpability in Ilusha’s suffering, (the “wisp of tow” incident), the same way he shares culpability with Smerdyakov in Fyodor’s murder, when he is tried and convicted despite his innocence.

Alyosha interferes in Ilusha’s violent outbursts while he is still a child, and meets him with love and compassion, and therefore Ilusha is saved. Not from death, but his soul is saved, in the most Christian, Dostoevskian sense.

Remember, Alyosha, disciple of Zossima, who preached about praying for the suicides, “being the servant of my servant”, and spoke of Joseph being sold into slavery by his own brothers on his deathbed.

Smerdyakov never received that kind of intervention from anyone, not in childhood, and now that he’s an adult, whatever compassion anyone might have once had for him is well past. And so it’s too late for him. But it’s not too late for Ilusha.

This is the great blind spot in Ivan’s ideology, is that he fails to see that these abused children grow up into adults, and frequently grow up into adults who often perpetuate the cycle of abuse.

The Brothers Karamazov is, fundamentally, a novel about children.

I’m reminded of Matthew 18:6: “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.”

And, well, we all know how Smerdyakov died.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Pairing: Softish Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn Note: It is/will be mentioned Tav is a draconic sorcerer

Rating: Explicit 18+ [Slow Burn]

Setting: Post End-Game Please note: Written before epilogues were added, so may not be congruent with that content

Warnings [more will be added] - expect mature content/read at your own risk.

Blood drinking. Sexual Themes/Tension. Slow Burn. Eventual Explicit Smut. Pining. Suicidal Thoughts. Biting. Violence.

Small Notes:

I am not well-versed in DnD 5e and it's rules as it pertains to this world, so although I'm going to try and keep it as accurate as possible, some aspects may not align or may be completely made up for story reasons.

Mentioned of in-game content that I've made resolve a certain way for this Tav.

Fabricated camp events.

Tav is named in later chapters (15 +), will have her own backstory, which we may explore eventually.

Details of Tav's appearance have been made up, but I've tried to keep details to a minimum so you can imagine your own Tav.

Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy!

Big thank you to everyone who reads and/or comments/follows/likes/reblogs - it truly does make my day to know you're finding some enjoyment in my story :)

Chapter 1: Lost Between Night and Dawn

Chapter 2: Reunion

Chapter 3: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Chapter 4: Little Lamb

Chapter 5: Rebellion

Chapter 6: Dancing with Darkness

Chapter 7: Rogue Desire

Chapter 8: Free Fall

Chapter 9: Beneath the Veil

Chapter 10: Soulbound

Chapter 11: 'Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 12: Catharsis

Chapter 13: The Fallacy of Power

Chapter 14: Devil's Ploy

Chapter 15: Reclamation

Chapter 16: Riddles

Chapter 17: Unearthed

Chapter 18: Unleashed

Chapter 19: Hark Thy Plea

Chapter 20: I Forgive You

Chapter 21: Preparations

Chapter 22: This is Our Sanctuary

Chapter 23: Way Down We Go

Chapter 24: His Hands Hold My Heart & He Won't Let Go Until It's Scarred

Chapter 25: Darkside

Chapter 26: The Edge of Erasure

Chapter 27: Sin and Shadow

Chapter 28: Blurred Lines

Chapter 29: A Lonely Kind of Love

Chapter 30: A Brand, A Tether

Chapter 31: Ice Meets Fire

Chapter 32: Adrift

AO3 [cross-posted]

If you're interested, I also write a spawn Astarion x Tav fic - Shadows of the Past

I also write a much darker fic for named Durge and AA that I post to A03 exclusively. It's dark, gory, and not about fixing AA but about them becoming an evil power couple if you're interested - Lie to Me

[h7jfangirl]

TGS UPTADE

So...

EVIL JEKYLL!!!!!!

But really evil? What are Henrys main intentions here?

Save the society reputation, so the logders can keep working on their dreams. That was the reason

But that might be just a facade of his real motivation

Self hate? Its the main root of his motivation, Jekyll become his own anatgonist, because he always was

If you have to say who is tgs main villain, the enemy our lovely Dr Jekyll has to fight to save the day... you would say its Hyde

Dr Monroe only appear once and had nothing to do with jekyll nor Hyde, Frankestein was a temporary antagonist but it only stop because Jekyll stop treating her as such and also she already had her redemption arc, the opposition of the conservatives in tgs never mattered because they dont have the power to destroy society, they are not a real threat

On the other hand, Hyde is a threat for the society, he has the power to destroy it if he wanted to, but for the simple fact that he is also Jekyll

Henry Jekyll its the hero as the villain in his own story

Hyde, if we take him as a seperate character, he is just the main antagonist but not the ultimate bad guy of the story. You normally get rid of them by destroying them or redeem them

But despite claming Hyde as his dark side we never see Jekyll actually trying to destroy him, or even heard a mentioned that he tried in the past. Sure, he took the formula, but he didnt got rid of Hyde and just kept him there existing inside his brain, barely resisting him and let Hyde do whatever he pleased as he adopted this ¨Hopless Prince behavior¨ that actually, Jasper called out in Chapter 11

We dont know why yet, maybe he didnt want to do something risky back then but at this point Hyde never really meant to destroy Jekyll himself nor the society, until Chapter 12, when he is about to sacrifice thier lifestyle just to feel in control over him again, because he felt atrap and literally fading away

He never wanted to destroy the society because he hates it or the logders, he was a threat because he was after Henry, and Jekyll is angry cause despite how many times he tried to explain Hyde that the society well-being depends completely on him, he just dosent care and keeps going until he shall set free

Im not saying that Hyde is not responsable for his actions, but in the end, he is also a part of Jekyll

One way or another it always ends in Henry, and he knows that very well

"Give in to my dark side" it not only means jekilling himself out this world and let Hyde have all the control, but also means reconogzing himself as evil too

I think that at this point, Henry dosen´t see himself as good and evil anymore, but just evil, In Henry´s perspective there is a very strong black and white mindset;

¨I just wanted to be good¨ Jekyll always feared being bad, and saw himself as evil. He tried to be good, but instead he made things worse. So to make things better, he shall embrace his dark side

Today´s page its not only Jekyll being suicidal but also being suicidal as he is aware that he is doing it for evilness, as letting his hate for Hyde wins over his love for Laynon and the society, just to have the satisfaction of seeing Hyde suffer

Remenber, Jekyll rather considers Hyde as another being, so techinically he has the desire to see someone else suffer....

He didn´t say; ¨It will be worth it because they´ll be better without me¨ or ¨It will be worth it because you´ll get what you deserve¨

He said; "It will be worth it to see you suffer¨

Its obvious that he was refering to Hyde, but what if this also applys to Laynon and the logders too?

This desire hides under a fake nobel action with the feeling of ¨this is for a greater good" something that he is aware of

It might be not all fake, he thinks he is doing this sacrifice for a greater good, but also aware that, at least, he´ll has Hyde desesperation as comfort (And he recognizes the action of finding comfort in someone else´s agony as evil)

Its like Jekyll seeing himself as pure evil but still wanting to make things right once for all. You can see it in his eyes, he dosent want this to happend but cant see another solution or a thing that changes his perspective

Inside Jekyll´s pespective, all his self is evil, so he is getting ride of himself entirely to solve the problem, as letting himself had a little plasure in seeing Hyde suffering and finally be stop. A hero´s sacrifice to finally bring peace and justice to those who loves

What in reality, its just a poor man atraped in a delusion where he is only hurting himself until death.

[scoobydoodean]

speaking of your "15.20 is like a punishment for Sam" idea, I've thought that Dean's death, Sam living on, etc. was supposed to echo the season 3 finale, except with a sort of remixing of Sam & Dean's roles.

imo it was only a few minutes that Dean was in heaven without Sam, because Bobby says time works differently in heaven ("Time up here, it's… it's different. You got everything you could ever want… or need or… dream.") in what seems like a deliberate echo of Dean's line around his time in hell ("It was four months up here, but down there… I don't know. Time's different.") so: in 3.16, Sam isn't able to save Dean, Dean dies & goes to hell, Sam goes on his revenge quest vs. 15.20 Sam isn't able to save Dean, Dean dies & goes to heaven, Sam lives a 'normal' life until he dies & reunites w/ Dean. Dean spends 40 years in hell, Sam 4 months on earth; Dean spends a few minutes (say 4) in heaven, Sam spend ~40 years on earth/in metaphorical 'hell' or at least in grief before finally reuniting w/ Dean. as you say, all the people Sam is closest to die/leave and he just has to live on for decades after. he does get his 'reward' in going to heaven and reuniting with Dean and everybody else, but still!

(on a writing level, it feels revealing to me that the writers didn't go with a remix of season 3's original ending, of Sam being able to save Dean. because the actual season 3 ending didn't happen naturally but because of real-world setbacks. yeah yeah Dean dying & Sam carrying on it fits with the show's focus on how people deal with death and death's inevitability, but... idk, there's something about it that just feels off to me. can't explain it logically though.)

Yeah that's one of the other Big Things for me about the ending of Supernatural is that it presents Sam as a failure who tried over and over to save his brother but always failed. He wanted to save Dean in season 3 and failed repeatedly and it ripped him apart. He deluded himself into thinking (to an extent) that he was saving Dean somehow in season 4 (see: 4.12 and 4.18) but he epically failed. Season 5 was supposed to culminate in some sort of redemption in a way, but then Sam came back soulless and harmed Dean. Then in 8.14, he promised to save Dean from his suicidal thoughts, but then became suicidal himself, tried to kill himself, blamed Dean for not Sam not killing himself, and then Dean did something reckless (take on the Mark of Cain) as a build up to literal years of depression and then again at the end of season 9, culminating in his death (and Sam was trying to be there but Dean got stabbed through the heart anyway). Then Sam makes a series of incredibly morally dubious plays to save Dean in season 10 but unleashes the darkness at the same time, which again—culminates in Dean needing to die to save the world at the end of season 11 (with a brief stint where Sam tries to take on the Mark of Cain but fails). Then Dean succeeds in stopping the world from ending all on his own, and comes to save Sam from the BMoL. Then Dean agrees to be possessed by AU Michael to save Sam and Jack. Then Dean makes the box plan and Sam insists Dean not get in the Mal-ak box and that he trust Sam to fix all of this. Then they don't actually fucking fix it. It all blows up in their faces and causes a chain reaction like so many dominos toppled over.

And over all of that time... Sam also has a fixation on trust. He wants Dean to trust him so bad, but Sam never actually succeeds at the things he promises/wants and tries to get Dean to believe he can do so bad (without dire consequences). And I don't think Dean resents Sam for that, and I really don't actually think he distrusts Sam either in the late series. But I think it weighs on Sam and that's part of why he has a fixation on trust to begin with that he can never really let go of. All that to say... if I had to summarize the "brothers" storyline, it culminates in Sam failing at the number one thing he wanted to accomplish most: save Dean from a young and bloody death. And the fact that the majority of the people who claim to love Sam and Dean's brotherhood more than anything celebrate that as poetic disgusts me, because there is nothing poetic about it at all. It's meaningless garbage that makes Sam look like an utter failure who is being punished.