#and just in case it needs to be said: these aren't for like. Attention either

[evreeone]

text (i can't put read-mores anymore without preface text, is why there's something here always)

i feel like there's a switch in my brain that gets flipped every other day that just has flipping between "i'm okay, i can just bide my time the next (hopefully only) four years, i'm somewhere that at least state-wise is protective, i won't have it as bad as everyone else, it's going to be fine. i have my small community in the form of my friends if nothing else, and i have at least One friend irl who is pretty supportive and protective, even if the world around me is going to fall apart i won't be alone in it and it might fall apart less for me personally so maybe i shouldn't be so negative" or "i want to [----] myself, i'm sick and getting sicker, old and getting older and i can barely physically handle climate change right Now let alone how it'll worsen once environmental protection policies get cut, i'm in a city where racists are pretty bold and i'm already too afraid to leave my house, i'm going to have to watch people i love and care about and family in less safe states suffer even more, i'm going to watch the birds suffer, Why do i even Want to continue living this life because there's no Living to it as someone who is just a shut-in and now any small tentative hopes i had for a future in being more openly queer are Pretty Much Gone because i'm not strong enough to persist as myself in the current political environment"

every time i wake up. the smallest tinge of hope some mornings and then complete and utter hopelessness other mornings, and it's exhausting. i never really think about the future much because i always expect to die before i get there but it's been especially hard to grapple with the fact that the one time i started to (within the past year) it immediately went to shit.

i still really don't know what to do, for myself or for others, and i think the answer might really just be Nothing and that's. hard. as it stands though i am still clinging to rain world dlc release date as at least a Gotta Get This Far marker and just crossing my fingers something else is dangled in front of my brain like a horse and a carrot that'll help me continue to push myself forward

[liveontelevision]

Hello hello! If you are still taking requests I've been dying for an Alastor x reader where the reader was married to him when he was alive, and she outlives him quite a while before they reunite in hell, only for him to nearly die again when the angels attack. I love your work!

I've been wanting to do this prompt for a hot minute, sorry it took so long Anon :')

But here's a good long fluffy, angsty, fic to balance out how much of an ass Alastor is in Suffer lol

Curiosity Killed the Cat | Reader x Alastor

What caught your eye first, was how much whiskey he could down before losing his composure. You found yourself in awe, watching this charismatic stranger go round after round, only to end up on the dance floor with more energy than you had when you were sober. Truly a spectacle. Why don't you go tell him that?

"Excuse me-" You say in a sing-song voice, slipping by the stranger to beckon another drink your way. You may or may not have brushed your body against him in some sort of attempt to get his attention. It went unnoticed, but that's alright, that trick didn't usually work on the ones who had one too many drinks.

You decide the next best action is to sit at the seat next to him, despite there being multiple unoccupied stools at the bar. That’s something he has to question, right?

Of course not. You spent far too long trying to get his attention in any way, and he's either humming a song to himself or chatting with the plump, noisy, owner who would come by. They seemed to be close friends.. but she definitely wasn't his type. She looks like one to cause trouble.

You get a good scope of his character. He came in wearing a pristine trenchcoat, shielding an expensive-looking vest and tie combo. But, by now the tie had come undone and was draped across his neck. The heat of the whiskey might've gotten to him, he left his top few buttons precariously opened. You didn't mind that one bit. Next thing you spot; slightly messed hair and smudged glasses- bingo.

"Hey, birdy-" you finally muster some courage to get his attention. "-may I?" You pull out a handkerchief you usually have on hand, in case handsome strangers with glasses need a quick clean. It took you a good half hour to finally speak up, but he's looking you up and down as if you had just walked in. It takes a moment, but you see him finally decide you aren't a threat. He sits silently. Taking another swig of his drink, he looks at you with a smile. Does he want you to.. no harm in trying.

You bite at your lip, hesitantly reach out to his face, and carefully pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes as you do so. A man hasn't made you blush in quite some time. You decide to blame the drinks. Luckily, you have a task to keep your mind preoccupied. You're carefully swiping any smudges clear from the lenses when you hear his voice for the first time. Or so you thought.

"Mimzy, dear, do tell me who this little kitten here is. A regular?" You're assuming he's speaking about you, he's gesturing in your direction with his empty glass. The owner of the speak-easy, who you now know as Mimzy, trots behind the bar to top off his drink.

"For sure! What do ya say, kid, you're here.. on most weekends, ain't ya?" She turns to you, and you take a moment to confirm. You didn't think she'd notice, you don't come here that often. That's what you tell yourself at least.

"Got an eye on her tonight, Al? Sounds like someone's not goin' home alone~" She teases him with a quick jab, and he's quick to roll his eyes.

"Now now, she's been perched here for quite a while and has barely said a word to me, I doubt she's getting any more than a free drink." He sounds snarky, yet.. familiar..

"Al… as in Alastor? That radio host fellow? Well, I’ll be damned! I wasn't expecting a celebrity such as yourself to frequent little joints like this one." You comment, finally joining the conversation. You hear a throat being cleared dramatically and turn to the owner behind the bar. You laugh nervously.

"Not that- it's still a good bar- I.. Sorry." Good recovery. Your attention is taken to the hand outstretched to you, and you instinctively lean away from it.

"Kitten-" He beckons his hand, and you follow his eyes to his glasses that were still in your grasp. You let yet another nervous laugh and quickly pass them over. He slips them on with a satisfied hum.

"If I remember correctly, Al-" you attempt to mock the nickname you picked up from Mimzy. "- You have a broadcast tomorrow morning, no? You really think drinking like a sailor tonight is the best idea?" You weren’t concerned, really. You wanted to tease him a bit longer.

"Props to you for knowing my schedule." You realize how strange that might've sounded and quickly finish your drink to prevent any more embarrassing thoughts from slipping from your lips. "Are you implying I can't handle my liquor, dear?" He scoffs, beckoning the bartender over. He has them refill your glass.

"I'm sure you can, birdy, but you've been pounding down more drinks than I can count." You respond. You weren't one to flirt effectively. That, or he just happens to see right through your nerves.

"So, you've been counting, hm?" You realize you had outed yourself to watching him all night. You curse yourself quietly, hoping the music filling the room will cover your frustration. "Appreciate the concern, but I promise you, I'm more than capable of doing my job. No matter the circumstances."

While he seemed to be reading you quite easily, you had picked a few things up yourself. For one, he watches everything. And he seems to only drop his intel when he needs to. Or to mock you. And two, he's a bit of a narcissist.. quite an ego on this one. But that could work in your favor tonight.

"Well, fine then. I'll be up bright and early to listen to your broadcast. I doubt you can get through it with a hangover. Especially considering how much you've been drinking."  You state proudly. He lets out a chuckle, and despite how quiet it is, you can't help but appreciate his sultry laugh.

"Is that a challenge, kitten?" He purrs -ha- leaning his chin into his hand and slouching his body towards the bar.

"I mean if it is, there must be stakes." You say it as a matter of fact. "Let's say.. you cover my bill next time if I catch you slip up."

"Hm. Seems fair. You better be listening close, though, I'm very good at what I do." He enunciates his final sentence and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you consider this could be a bad idea.

"And when I win, what will be my prize?" He asks. You let out a little giggle at his cockiness.

"I'll tell you my name." He cocks his head to the side, an intrigue hitting him. Did he really manage to get this far without a proper introduction?

"I see your little detective game going on, I'll give you that. You are quite the observer. But you won't find my name just by looking." You say smugly. That's true for a number of reasons.

"I suppose you did leave that information out, hm?" He let's his eyes drop, as if he was trying to piece it together with what little information he had.

"I must say, you've got me hooked, kitten." He lets out a sigh, leaning back in his chair and finishing off yet another drink.

"Deal?" You hum, holding your hand out to him. He smirks, taking it into his own, not expecting a firm shake, but receiving one. He went on to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.

"Deal."

You went home alone after that night, but it was likely for the best. You were sure you'd see him next time, anyway.

Now that you had to tell him your name.

You thought for sure he'd at least stumble through a sentence, but no. He went through the entire show, even an interview with some big shot, and spoke perfect English. He talked like he'd never had a drop of booze his entire life and got a full night's sleep, which you both knew was far from the truth. You almost dreaded the next encounter, but at least you didn't wager anything too crazy. Sure, he'll see you differently after this, but if this were to go any further - what are you on about? You only met him once and listened to him on the radio occasionally at best. He's a perfect stranger to you. Let's not get too excited.

You find yourself seated in the same spot as before, shrinking into your seat and downing a few drinks to build your courage. You told him your mark. An awkward introduction, first and last name, made you feel like a new student at a children's school. He perks up, which is what you expected.

"Ah! So you're the famed physician! It's almost silly of you to call me a celebrity, you're the talk of the town, kitten." You groan, of course, he recognizes you. Everyone in this damned small town knows your name, your family.

You were one of the first women to complete their studies and practice medicine from your hometown. But to attend such high schooling in this time, your family had to be well off. And you were, in fact, well off. When it came to your love life, men were either disgusted by your pursuit of knowledge or took it like some fetish. You haven't approached anyone for years.. not like this, at least.

"You know, I spoke with your father a few-" You groan at the mention of him, cutting Alastor off mid-sentence.

"Don't be a fool, I heard the little interview on your show.. Can't say that was my favorite broadcast." Alastor had a certain segment where he would chat with some of the richer and more.. stuck up.. men in society. It wasn’t titled as such, you just noticed the trend of guests being pompous and wealthy. And your father was the perfect fit for that.

You didn't know this at the time, but Alastor was suddenly hit with some mixed emotions. There was more than one reason as to why your father was chosen to be on his broadcast. Alastor used his interviews to initiate close ties, and make powerful allies. If they weren't complying how he hoped, he would usually cut ties. Permanently.

Your father was definitely not a reasonable man, in fact, you made it a point to avoid him when you returned home. But did he deserve death?

"I didn't expect just the sight of me walking the streets to be as interesting as it is." You mumbled, leaning forward on the counter and drinking something much stronger than you expected. But the mentions of your father called for a hard hitter.

"You didn't?" He asked bluntly, twirling the liquor in his glass. You hum in agreement. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.

"Well, you've picked up some interesting feats. If you were hoping to go unseen, I would've put some more thought into my rags." He gestured to your clothing. It was definitely of higher quality, but it was something you were used to wearing while attending your school in a high-class city. You felt a bit embarrassed, placing your hands in your lap to subtly hide your body.

"And a beautiful doctor like yourself just 'walking the streets'? Some might be concerned for your safety." You tilt your head to the side at his words. Your confusion makes him smirk.

"I'm sure you're aware, kitten, but there seems to be a killer on the loose." He seems far too excited for the subject at hand, and it's almost noticeable.

"Hm. Guess I shouldn't be going out alone and talking to strange men, should I?" You say with a smile.

"I suppose you shouldn't." He shrugs off your words, getting another drink. You didn't even see him finish the previous one. "Though I must say, I'm glad you did. You've been quite the conversationalist." It's barely flirting, but it seems to leave you blushing a bit.

You went on to chat throughout the night, your drunken rambling turned to complaints about your father, and morbid details about what you'd learned in medical school. Both topics that you didn't realize intrigued Alastor to a personal extent. Later on, the rambles started to become incomprehensible. He decides it would be best for you to leave, considering you were refusing to do so and thoroughly embarrassing yourself in the process.

A giggling, stumbling mess, you were carefully lifted from your seat and brought to your feet with his assistance. He helped you out to the streetside, calling a taxi and bringing you into the backseat gently. He then went ahead and paid the driver, and turned at his heels to head back inside.

As he was reaching for the bar's door, a loud call forced him to turn back to the cab.

"Buddy, she's too sloshed to give me an address. You know where she lives?" Shit. Alastor looks to the bar’s door, then to the cab, where he spots you leaning your head against the window in the backseat. He sighs.

After insisting the driver keep the fair, Alastor brought you back out. He kept you standing with a hand on your lower back, as you gripped onto his shirt, far too small to reach your arm over his towering figure. He was cringing at the sight of his clothes becoming disheveled.

"Alright, kitten, where are you staying? I doubt you'd appreciate me taking you to your family home.." He was talking in a hushed voice, in the hopes that you'd have enough conscious to respond, but knew that likely wasn't the case. He looks around the area as if the answer would be in plain sight. He lets out a sigh of defeat when it clearly wasn't.

"Didn't even get to finish my drink.." He mumbles, pulling you closer to keep you stable enough to walk a few blocks.

There, sat a charming little motel. However, calling it charming was.. optimistic. Your memory, to this day, is in small flashes. Only certain things come to mind when trying to picture what went on.

You remember Alastor talking to the older gentleman at the desk. It seemed like they were acquaintances. Maybe they've done business in the past.

You remember him giving up after finding that the room he booked was on the second floor. Unwilling to deal with the staircase, he hoisted you up quite easily. You definitely remember that. How such a slender man can hold you in his arms with no strain.

You remember the room, it was cleaner than you expected. He seated you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. He didn't seem to go much farther than that. He could've removed your entire wardrobe with your state of mind, and you'd be none the wiser. How awful it must be, to live in a world where a man not making a pass, surprises you.

As far as you know, you drifted to sleep almost right after. You're pretty sure he wrapped you in the blankets, and you remember the faint touch of hair being brushed from your face. His hand was far colder than you would have expected.

Being in your occupation, you don't exactly have time to confront all the horrific sights you've seen. So, your body deals with those emotions in other ways. A common occurrence, you were plagued with a number of night terrors. Something seems different in tonight's regularly scheduled program, though. A radio static overwhelms your senses, and any horrifying disfigurations that were taunting you seem to fade into nothing. A yellow grin and glowing red eyes are the last thing you can see.

You woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache, an ache in your stomach, and sore feet. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you barely care about the makeup that you'd smudged beyond repair. You try to recall your dreams, which usually stay vivid in your mind for most of the morning, but.. there's nothing. And despite the killer hangover, you feel more awake than you have in ages.

The panic settled in after you ran your hands across the unfamiliar sheets. With a soft gasp, you observe yourself. Still fully clothed, you spot your heels set next to the door. You look around the room next, and you almost feel relieved, seeing Alastor seated in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. He had his nose in a book. It was better than seeing him lying on the other side of the bed.. wait, was it?

You let out a pathetic little sound, your voice too weak to form any coherent words. He sets the book on his lap, and your sad attempt at a greeting seems to catch his attention.

"Good morning to you, too, kitten. Sleep well?" You were sure he drank as much as last night. If not, more. How dare he look so put together?

"Morning. I-um.. I suppose I did.. I-I hate to ask, but did... did we-" you stammer out, and he quickly holds his hands up in defense.

"Heavens no, dear, I wouldn't dare defile a woman who can't handle her whiskey." You scoff at his insult but still feel disarmed by his reaction.

"So then.. the motel room?" You question. He cocks his head to the side, only now realizing that your memory must've gone from the previous night.

"Ah, so you really can't handle your whiskey.. Well, not to fret, dear. You weren't telling me where you were staying, and Mimzy seemed keen on me taking you elsewhere." In actuality, she was trying to play matchmaker. Thanks for trying, Mimzy.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Alastor, I hate that you bought a room just for me.. I can pay you back." You sit up, running your hands through your mess of hair and letting out a pained groan.

"I'm sure you can, but I simply can't accept." He stands, tucking the book under his arm and walking to your bedside. You swing your legs over the edge, only to notice how close he seems to hover over you. You look up and realize how statuesque he was. You hadn't seen him in daylight. And his height is much more intimating when he stands.

"It was my pleasure, getting to witness you thoroughly embarrass yourself." He bends at the hips, a taunting smile across his face. You try to recall anything embarrassing you might've done the night before, but you can barely recall a thing. That did little to ease your mind.

"You'll have to tell me about it one day." You grumble, standing with his assistance. He offered to escort you home, and you happily accepted.

The two of you stand on your small porch. It's a quaint duplex you've been renting, you go on about how how the family who lives here travels for the summer and was more than happy to offer their home to such a sweet thing.

"Well, since you insist that I can't handle my liquor, it might be a better idea to find each other.. somewhere other than a joint..." you say sheepishly, your eyes wandering to anywhere but his gaze. When he steps closer, you finally fix your wide eyes on him.

"You don't want me to court you, kitten. You're a lovely, educated, pretty little thing, you'll be wasting your time, unfortunately." He doesn't sound insulting, he says it very truthfully. It only makes you want to see more. To ask him to come in, and stick around awhile. But you're aware he has a broadcast coming up soon. You wonder if he would've stayed by your side if you slept through it.

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, getting coffee doesn't waste too much time." You decide to stand your ground. You aren't sure why he's refusing if he thinks all that of you. You see him look you up and down, then let out a sigh.

"Hm. I suppose. I'll be back here tomorrow morning since you're so insistent. Just remember I warned you-" He says playfully as he makes his way down the stairs.

"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear!" He calls out before giving another heart-melting smile. You nervously bite your lip and watch him walk off through the cracked door. Like a damned puppy, you couldn't help but watch him walk off. You quickly shut the door, after realizing how hard you were smiling.

-

This was supposed to be for fun. You were just supposed to be some extra company on occasions. And he knew you came with your perks. You were an heir to a decent fortune, it only made sense for him to befriend you. You were knowledgeable and smart, he could definitely benefit from your skills if he needs to do so. There were plenty of ways Alastor could use you if necessary.

But with every little dance, every little coffee, or walk home from the bar, it was making him nervous. Of course, he would never call it that, he's too disgusted by the pangs in his chest he gets around you. Unfiltered, yet still delicate and professional. Incredibly intelligent, yet still makes the silliest mistakes. You were flawed. You came from such a slob of a man, and the fact that you are so kind despite that amazes him more than you realize. You are more than willing to stand for your beliefs. For one of the first times in his life, Alastor admired someone.

He's not sure what conversations led to him agreeing to cook yet another dinner in your home, but here he was; standing at your door with a bag of groceries.

"Oh- you didn't need to do all that, you're always free to use anything in the kitchen." You greet him as he comes inside, where he sets the bag at a nearby counter space. You reach up and pull his trenchcoat off his shoulders, which he willingly surrenders to. It was a little action you took, taking his coat for him when he would stop by. He's come to expect it. You hang it up on the rack nearby.

"Nonsense, I'm sure you have plenty to work with, but I'm following a special recipe tonight." He insisted, already unpacking things, setting up pots and pans, and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled an apron from the bag last, and the sight of him all prepped for cooking leaves you weak in the knees. You want to see this every night. You want him in your kitchen every mealtime. You shake the desires from your head, pushing aside the dreams of domesticity that have been plaguing your mind recently.

"Can I help with anything?" You chime in, peeking around the corner to smile at him through the doorway. He shakes his head.

"If you feel the need to help, you're more than welcome to get the table set, but I am quite in my element here, kitten. So, not to worry." You were mostly listening to him, but one part of you kept your focus on his skillful knife practice, watching him chop vegetables in a nearly professional manner.

"Kitten? The table?" His words and his moving on to something else snapped you from your funk.

"Oh! Of course, yes." You stumble a bit but do as he instructs. It wasn't anything special, but the space was more than enough to give the ambiance of a good date.

Damn, this man could cook. He's cooked for you before, but something you couldn't quite put a finger on left you swooning at the sight of the still-steaming gumbo in front of you.

"Damn, you can cook." You're muttering, between bites. You almost can't taste all its decadence, digging in before letting it fully cool.

"Slow down, dear, we have all night." He says softly, despite bringing a spoonful to his own lips. You catch yourself staring at the sight of him eating beside you, enthralled by his enthusiastic hums.

"So where did this come from? I'm a bit suspicious of the finery if I'm honest." You place your elbows on the table, perching your chin on top of your hands. He scoffs in response.

"How rude. All my meals are of the highest quality. I simply haven't made this in quite a while, I thought tonight would be a good time to do so." He replies.

"A recipe for special occasions, hm? Would you consider this.. a special occasion?" You tease, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. He looks confused, letting his eyes wander in thought for a moment. Was this a special occasion? Is there any specific reason he wanted to bring his own mother's recipe to some girl he's befriended? He pushes the thought aside, planning on mocking you like usual.

"Any night with you is plenty special, kitten." He hums, popping another spoonful into his mouth. He doesn't see your face turning red, but his oblivious flirting always leaves you flushed.

"In that case, when are you inviting me to your own home? I won't lie and say I'm not curious, Al." You set your finished plate aside and notice his eye twitch. You've been staring at him long enough to notice even his smallest ticks.

"Someday. I've a bit of a mess to go through before considering bringing any guests over." He brushes clean his already pristine top, as you stand and take his empty plate to the kitchen. With a sigh, you take yourself over to the sink to do a quick clean. It's the least you could do after such a lovely meal.

"If you say so." You try your best to sound calm, but you're slightly hurt by his constant rejection of letting you into his personal life. It wasn't all the time, but there were clearly things he refused to talk about. You want nothing more than to know him.

Lost in your mildly upsetting thoughts, you recklessly take one of his knives the wrong way, the blade slicing surprisingly easily down your finger. The shock takes you back more than the actual pain. These are far too nice for everyday cooking.

Letting out a quiet curse, you feel his hand brush over your own, his shadow casting over your entirety. "Such a clutz." You hear, his voice causing you to tense. You let him guide your hand under the water to rinse it, effectively caging you in place.

"Be careful, will you? These are my nicer tools." Interesting way to say it, but you were too focused on the fact that you could feel his breath heating the back of your neck. You simply nod, before turning the water off with your free hand. You turn your body around, leaning your back against the edge of the countertop and effectively facing Alastor. His hands stay planted on either side of you, making it a bit of a tight squeeze. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish here, but here you are. Neither of you seem to be moving away, though. He drops his head to look into your eyes. You're lost in them.

You reach your arms upwards, holding them around his neck as best you can, and you feel him willingly lean within your grasp. The moment is heated, you feel his breath against your lips as you pull him impossibly closer. His breath is quick, almost shaky. You've never seen this side of him. You'd never associate Alastor with the term nervous.

Nearly closing the gap, you feel a hand come to your throat and fingers gently holding your jaw. With a quick turn, he places a soft kiss on your cheek. It lingers for a moment, and even if it wasn't what you were expecting, you're gasping beneath his affection. The room seems to cool down for a moment. He steps away silently, pulling his things all together.

You may have made a mistake.

"Oh, Al- I'm sorry I didn't think.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i-if that's what happened there." Your words quicken, suddenly becoming anxious that you may have upset him.

"No, don't fret." He waves his hand dismissively, his back still turned to you as he keeps himself busy with a bit of tidying. "I'd be an idiot to not expect that, eventually." He almost sounds insulting, a little cocky.

"Why's that? Are you used to women just throwing themselves at you?" You tease but keep yourself from his eyeline.

"Well, yes- but, you've been especially touchy recently. And you seem to be acting like I make you.. nervous. Fidgety." His little observations leave you a bit embarrassed.

"It's not nervous.. exactly. Never mind that, though.. Does.. that interest you..? At all?" It takes you a while to get the question out and it still comes across shaky. You're response is silence. Fill it.

"H-How about a drink before you head off, hm?" You quickly shuffle to your liquor cart, looking for anything to drown out your essential confession.

"It does." You freeze in place, missing the cup entirely with your first pour. That was an answer neither of you were really expecting. You finally turn to him, seeing that he had looked away just as you did.

"So, that means-" you want him to elaborate. You want to hear him say all the things you've been dreaming of. That he wants to spend his free time with you, hold your hand, and kiss it with more than just a greeting in mind. To call you anything other than kitten. Well.. that last part you didn't mind as much.

"I've not prepared myself for such a conversation, but I.. enjoy your company. And your brains.. and you certainly aren't terrible to look at." He said he didn't prepare himself, and it was pretty obvious. This wasn't his usual taunting, his usually eloquent beats. He's pausing between phrases, to come up with the best words on hand.

"Jee, thanks." You roll your eyes, your smile still shining.

"I suppose you leave me speechless, kitten." You leave a radio host, a man who talks for a living and is quite good at it, speechless. This time, he sees the freshly pink hues across your cheek. He lets out a devious chuckle, one you recognize when he's about to do something you'd consider nefarious. He starts to approach you, his clean shoes clicking against the wooden floors being the only sound. You knew you weren't in danger, but you find yourself walking backward until you hit the table. Continuing to lean away from him, he towers over you, only following your avoidance until you are straining to stand upwards.

"Well?" You let out, your words barely a whisper. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

That seems to shock him a bit, you see his shoulders tense just slightly. You watch him contemplate his next action. He let his hand snake around your waist, not exactly to pull you closer, but his touch still left you weak. With a soft kiss on your lips, he gave you no time to truly enjoy it.

"I hate to repeat myself, but I warned you, kitten. Curious little things like yourself deserve.. more." After processing his words, you're still melting to his touch despite how fleeting it was. He steps away.

"W-What- No! I thought you said you were interested! And that kiss- W-What were-" You throw a bit of a tantrum, but quickly calm yourself. "I don't understand, help me understand. Please.." You sound a bit defeated. He sighs, clearly pained that this conversation has to continue.

"Hm.. I don't believe I'm able to give you everything you need. But, you deserve everything you need. It's as simple as that." He's pausing between words, and his expression shows that he's still not exactly satisfied with how it came out.

You shrank in place and held your arms, your mind trying to scrap together any little hints to what he means. Maybe something he's mentioned in the past. But as elusive as ever, it still just doesn't make sense to you. He catches a glimpse of your upset appearance, then takes in the rest of your state a bit longer. You can feel his eyes on you, forcing you to nervously bite at your lip.

"Okay. Let's forget all that, then." You said softly, smiling the best you can and waving your hand dismissively. He obviously knows that you wouldn't lose these feelings as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd reassure you, you'll get over it.

But you couldn't. You tried, you did. You went on other dates, considering how many men were throwing themselves at you in the right bars. You kept your distance for a bit but still saw him at Mimzy's bar on the weekends. Despite all your potential suitors, you still only seemed to look forward to those nights with Alastor. You'd go as far as to complain about some unruly men to him. His disgusted reactions were a comfort.

You kept trying to pry his real reasoning as to why he wouldn't be with you. He'd admit to not being trustworthy, which you would always dismiss. He'd go on about the other men that would be a much better fit, and all with good reasoning, but you still wouldn't stop pestering him. Then, after a few too many drinks, he finally let slip his disinterest in intimacy. And from everything he's told you, this seemed different. It wasn't an excuse or an avoidance, it was the truth.

"So, you don't find me physically attractive?" You ask him, swirling your half-empty cup.

"It's not that, I assure you. I'd just prefer to shower you in other affections, I suppose." He seems a bit unfiltered tonight, still avoiding your eyes.

"Other affections, hm? Like what, birdy?" You were already enraptured. But you were kicking yourself for getting your hopes up at all. You can see his immediate regret in his words.

"Kitten-"

"Please? I'm just curious." You say sincerely, placing your hand over top of his. You hesitate for a moment, but he seems to not mind the touch.

"Well.. I'd like to buy you the finest things. Any book you're slightly interested in, any frock that draws your eyes, any accessories that would bring out your natural beauty- you deserve it. I want to keep you proudly on my arm throughout the streets, showing everyone that you belong to me. I'd like to cook you every meal, until the day I die." His drunken rants leave an obvious sparkle in your eyes.

"Well that all sounds lovely to me.." you say softly, twisting and turning his hand until your fingers are comfortably interlocked with his. "Simply put, you're not interested in sex?” He was taken aback by your bold words, looking around as if he were nervous someone would hear. “I’ve read about it before, there’s an interesting essay that describes this sort of phenomenon. I'll have to lend it to you.” Your calmness surprises him.

“Well.. Thank you. That puts an end to that, then. Go on and find a man who can properly bed you.” He tries to act just as calm, but his voice still seems a bit frustrated by the idea. You make an act out of tapping your chin and humming in thought.

“No, I’d much rather spend my time with you.” You say bluntly. He quickly chimes in.

“But, I-”

“Alastor, I’ve never met someone as arrogant as you.” You let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you’ll have me, however you want that is, I’d love nothing more than to spend my days with you.” You speak slowly, almost mockingly, trying to get this damned point across after so long.

He’s still quiet, opening his mouth to respond, then letting his lips shut again. He smiles at you. You couldn't ask for a better response. It was the sweetest smile you've ever seen from him, no sign of teasing or mocking you, no hidden intent, and just slightly bashful. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, in a sweet sign of acceptance.

Things went on after that without a hitch. Mostly. There were some kinks to work out, sure, but you were absolutely head over heels for him. No one’s ever brought you this much joy, and having this more intimate side of him, despite its physicalities, was more than you could ever hope for. He’d finally let you into his home after a while. It was near spotless and he was more than willing to show off the space to you. You wondered why he felt the need to stall this for so long. But you’re together now, hardly anything else matters.

As the summer came to an end, and you had to find somewhere else, you were invited to stay with Alastor. After walking freely around town, as promised, with his arm around yours, gossip spread as it always does. Another talk of the town, two unwed youths in the same place, sharing the same bed assumedly. It made you two snicker at the rumors. Living with him was heaven.

Following through his previous statements, he showered you in compliments, cooked every meal for you, and spent as much of his free time with you as he could. He offered little physical affection, little pecks here and there, and had no issue with sharing his bed. It wasn't long before you popped the question. Neither of you were really interested in the big fancy wedding idea, he was even comprehended by the marriage itself, but if anyone could wear down his nerves, it was you. That being said, Alastor did get you a ring that you were sure cost far too much. He brought up the idea of eloping. A little vacation just for the two of you. It sounded perfect.

“Birdy~ You let out in a sing-song tone, opening the door to your shared home. Every time you’d walk up to the house, you’d slow down, taking in your flawless reality every day. You’d hold your hand out to yourself, looking at the still newly polished ring, then finally entering your perfect home.

Although, it wasn’t perfect today.

You call out his name, no response. You know he should be home, so you peak around corners to no avail. You checked tables and counters, no note to be seen.

After setting down your bag, slipping your heels off, and hanging your coat after your quick search, you head to your room to at least change for the evening. You and Alastor usually go visit Mimzy on these nights, an unspoken routine.

On the way to your room, your tights hit a wet splotch on the floor. With a groan of disgust, you finally realize what you had stepped in.

Blood.

Of course, you’d recognize blood. It trailed from the door in front of you.

Alastor assured you this was his office and showed it to you on occasion. The door was always open when he wasn't home, and although you never felt the need to intrude on his personal space, something was clearly wrong. You swung open the door.

“No.”

You cover your mouth after your quiet refusal. You're silent, unwilling to believe what you're seeing. Your darling husband-to-be, kneeling over a stained and still wet corpse wrapped in canvas. His hands are covered in blood. Actually, his entire body is covered in blood.

How he managed to get in and out of the house without making an entire mess was a thought that managed to cross your mind in your state of shock. You glance up for a second to notice one of the heavy bookshelves pushed aside, a sort of patio doorway leading to the swampy area behind the house.

You look at the door, then to Alastor. Who’s giving you a wide-eyed face that pains your chest.

Say something, Alastor. Say something that’ll make this all okay. You're a deer in headlights.

He notices your eyes dart to the right, then back to him, staring for a moment longer. One thing is on your mind without his reassurance. You’re in danger.

Run.

You book it down the hall, clearly going to the exit. Both your feet soaked in blood at this point are tracking through the house. The moment was such a blur, that you hardly remember how far you got before feeling the pain of hitting the floor. You look down after scrambling onto your back, seeing Alastor’s hand wrap around your ankle.

“Hold on! You’re covered in blood, you’re a mess, just-” He sounds deranged. Who is this man? Surely not the one who’s been treating you so well all this time. He sounds anxious and angry. You’re face is stained with tears as he essentially drags you across the floor briefly, not considering his heightened adrenaline in these moments. You kick. You scream.

“Listen to me!” He grabs you by your arms, giving you a good shake. That seems to calm you down.. or at least quiet you down. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, your breath rapid. He has your attention, yet he’s not sure what to say. A pained expression grows on his face. You’re leaving him speechless, again.

“Let’s.. clean you up.” He scoops you up, and maybe it's the shock that leaves you so lenient. Or maybe it's all the good times blurring what you've witnessed. When you come to, you’re sitting in the bath, Alastor by your side, and running a sponge across your arm, thoroughly staining the water with blood. The sight brings a gasp from your lips, that feels like the first breath you've taken in hours.

“A-Alastor-” You let out weakly, your frightened expression now burned into his mind. “Was that real..?”

“It was-” He lets out a pained sigh, seeing if he could soften the truth. It's not possible. “-It was.” no words can save him from this.

“W-Why..?”

“He was rather unpleasant. A man with too much money, who wasted most of his time on hitting his women staff. He had his chance to make things right, I assure you, this is always the last resort.” That doesn't help for obvious reasons. You pull away from his gentle washing.

“Always? You've done this before?” Your voice squeaks as it comes out. You don't want to know the details. But you can't stop the words from spilling from your lips. He stands and rings the sponge out into the sink, watching the red-tinted water swirl down the drain.

“Yes.”

“How many times have you-” You stop yourself finally. You don't want the answer to that one. You don't want the answer to any of these questions. Unconsciously, your mind still seems to piece together every strange thing he’s done and said to you.

Your half-sentence is replied to with silence. He goes on to finish cleaning you up, helping you in and out of the tub, and drying you as best he can. He wraps you in his own robe and brings you to the bedroom. You’re mortified when you notice him guiding you by your shoulders to avoid the bloody footprints still on the ground.

Some time passes. You sit empty-minded on the edge of the bed, your eyes gazing down into nothing. Alastor leans against the vanity across the small room from you. He runs his hands through his hair, pausing and clenching some strands in his fists before moving on.

“I can..get all your belongings together, find you a place to stay. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.” He finally says, breaking the silence and your endless train of thought. His offer seems reasonable, but you still feel hurt.

“You want me to leave?” You ask quietly, gripping the edges of the robe and shrinking into yourself. He’s shocked by your response, you can hear it in his voice.

“You want to stay?” He asks in response.

“I.. I love you.” You say weakly. It stings to say it out loud. And even more so to hear it. “Will you hurt me? I-If I go to the police? If I rat you out..?” What are you doing? You can’t ask a murderer that. Your mind is running on fear, especially after what you just said. You feel his hand lightly lift your face to his, flinching slightly considering you hadn't noticed him approaching you.

“I would never hurt you. I’d spend my days rotting in a jail cell if it meant you’re safe..and happy. I love you, kitten.” You aren’t used to seeing this face. It’s almost emotionless. You start to picture this face carrying out his murderous intentions. But there's a crack in his psychopathic mask. There's a hint of softness and anguish at the sight of you.

“I don't.. I don't want to leave.” You take a hold of his hand, still shaking and clearly unsure of your words. You hear a soft hiss leave his lips, clearly trying to conceal his reaction to the unexpected. “I don’t want you to be in jail- or.. I suppose I don't want you to be caught..?” You groan, holding tightly onto his hand. “I’m so confused, Alastor. I want things to be normal. I want to go back to when you cooked for me, and.. And go back to planning- o-our elopement…” You let out weakly. He doesn't respond at first, you force your eyes up to meet his. He looks heartbroken at the sight of you.

“I just want to pretend that none of this happened..Please, stop this. F-for me, please don't do this anymore.” Your voice becomes a whisper. His hesitation only makes it all worse. He responds once he feels your grip on him loosen.

“Okay- okay. I’ll clean up this mess, and- I’ll stop. For you.” You manage to give him a weak smile, before resting your head against his chest. After holding you for a moment he settles you into bed after you had essentially fallen asleep in his arms. He does as promised. Mostly. He cleans up the mess at least.

The next morning, you wake up and hope everything that happened before a nightmare. But, you feel his robe still wrapped around you, then notice Alastor’s side of the bed empty. It's real then. It was too vivid. And if it's real.. Then he’s stopping. Because of you. It’s almost touching.

You go on about your day, and he greets you as if nothing is wrong, making your breakfast as usual. He’s chipper and goes on to chat about his plans for today. He’s pretending that nothing went on. How often has he done this? Convincingly pretend that he didn't take a life less than twelve hours ago?

It takes you a few days. A few months.. years, actually. To accept what he had done. You never forgave him, but you accepted it. You had to go on and enjoy your newly wedded life together, didn't you? Alastor had a broadcast to work on, an audience to appease, and you had to work as a physician, helping locals from within their homes. Besides, he stopped the murders after you caught him that one awful night, didn't he?

Didn't he?

Police are at your door. A nightmare of a sight. You open it, putting on your best face. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but your smile still convinced the public. Leaning against the open door and batting your lashes you greet them sweetly. your face instantly fell to their words. You almost hoped that he had gotten caught. But he didn't.

He's dead.

“Shot in the woods, ma’am. A hunter mistook him for a deer in the dark.” you'd recall these words later, but for now, your ears were ringing and your mind was absent. You thanked them and shut the door.

You can't recall how loudly you screamed and sobbed, or for how long that went on. You need to be held. You need him to hold you and that only pains you more. You mourned for days, canceling appointments, and not answering any guests who were there to offer empty condolences. You rotted in his home. He was so young. You were both so young, there was so much to look forward to in your future. It's all gone now.

The first place you went to was Mimzy's bar. A few months had passed, and all your good liquor had run out. Plus, a familiar face could be a good change of pace right now.

“Oh, hun!” An immediate greeting at the door, Mimzy brings you to the bar. It's a late night on a workday, it was essentially empty. “I'm so sorry for your loss. Everyone in town is worried bout ya! I'm sure you don't wanna hear this, but how are you doin'?” She was right. You didn't want to hear that. You hated that question.

“Fine.” You say squeakly. It was the first word you had spoken in weeks, you realize. She slides you your drink and you immediately down it. She tops it off just for it to be finished off even faster than the last.

“Slow down, hun.” She says, sliding a glass of water to you next. When you drink it thoughtlessly, the absence of alcohol has you scrunching your nose. “I'm sure this isn't the best time, but.. I got somethin’ for ya.” She disappears into some backroom before reapproaching you and your barely touched glass of water. She places an enveloped letter in your hand. Your name written in neat cursive fills its front and your hands start to shake.

“It's from Al. He wanted me to give this to ya. If he ever.. well, if this ever happened.” as she's speaking, you've already opened it and begun reading.

It was instructions. And a large wad of cash. Above the instructions, A small blurb about how sorry he was, how much he loved you, and prayed that you'd never have to read this. Then a list of how to thoroughly clean and dispose of all evidence in his shed.

“Did you know?” you ask Mimzy, your hands crinkling on each side of the letter. She nods. “He never stopped, did he?” You say in a hushed tone, mainly in disbelief to yourself.

“Well- not exactly, no. he was finishing somethin' up in the forest that one night.” Mimzy talks as if she's practiced this conversation. He must've kept her up to date with all this.

“He told me he would stop. He said he was doing it for me-” You grip at your heart, letting out a shaky breath.

“What important is that he loved ya, right? He was an equal opportunity killer, hun, he only did what he had to. It was for the greater good, ya know?” Mimzy was speaking far too calmly about this. you let out a flurry of curses, shoving the crumpled-up instructions into your purse before standing at the bar.

“You're all fucking psychopaths!” You yell out to the empty bar and leave the building in a huff. 

You needed to leave town. The two people you were closest to were both criminals. And being in this house was only hurting you more. You packed as much as you could, hand hovering over the phone to call for a taxi. You freeze in place. Then see your ring. You look at it for a moment, the light giving it a beautiful shine. With a defeated sigh, you set your bags aside and pull the instructions back out from your purse, straightening it out as best you could.

After finishing a very thorough cleaning, and questioning your actions through it all, you did everything on the list. You burned the letter alongside some other items that he told you to dispose of. You still aren't sure why you did it. He was never caught before and he must have cleaned up his job in the forest before getting shot. Maybe it was for the best. Let his radio persona live on. Let it be the last nice thing you ever do for him. You finally leave that hellhole behind.

-

You went on to live another sixty years, quite a feat if you must admit. You weren't much of a religious person, so passing in your sleep and waking up in the streets of Pentagram City, was a bit of a shock. After accepting the idea of an afterlife, you put the little details together. You were sure after all that went down in your youth, you would end up here. And if you're here, then maybe..

There are more important things right now. Lucky for you, you fell right in the middle of a bustling street. You scramble to your feet and quickly escape the speeding cars. Why were there cars in Hell? Why did it look so much like a big city you would visit at some point, how is it so human? There was so much to question, but you were desperate to find any sort of sanctuary.

You weren't sure why your first thought was to find the nearest bar, but something seemed to bring you in. You're almost disappointed in yourself for stepping into a club decorated as a 20s speakeasy. But it was familiar- nostalgic. A shrill voice draws your attention.

"Oh my stars! Get over here, doll!" The shriek brings your attention to the bar, where a slightly familiar face greets you. “What are ya gawkin’ at? It’s me! Mimzy? Get that tail over here!” Mimzy owns a club even in Hell? You approach her after some more beckoning.

"Long time no see! How long you been in?" She goes on. You observe her appearance as she speaks. She looks almost the same. The red eyes and sharp teeth were definitely new. You realize you hadn't had the chance to take in your own appearance, but clearly, it must've been similar enough for her to recognize you. Still questioning your position, you finally process her words.

"Oh- I just arrived actually. Lucky me to walk straight into your bar, hm?" You lean against the counter as she pours you a drink, a flurry of trauma and nostalgia turns to confusion.

"Wow! You had quite a life after old Al got you outta town, didn't ya?” She teased. You let out a nervous chuckle. Good old Al. You haven't thought about him in years. You were so young, so head over heels for this man you barely knew. You somehow managed to suppress all the bad times as you aged. Mimzy notices your face droop a bit.

"I suppose I did.." a brief smile meets the wedding band still on your hand.

"Well? Finally gonna reunite? Ooh! How romantic! You'll have to update me, sweetie!" Mimzy bats at you, letting out an excited giggle. You quickly shake your head, not processing any other way to respond.

"I-I can't- I mean.. Not after everything he’s done.” Your hands clench at even the thought.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but we’re all for a reason. You got plenty of time to forgive him, with the whole eternal punishment of it all.” Mimzy’s tone drops to a more serious one as if she’s heard that line before. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to rot in Hell with someone they love, you should see what he’s up to!” Her tone seems to immediately switch to something more chipper.

“Still, I uh.. I shouldn't. He’s been dead for so long, I’m sure he’s got some other dame cleaning up his messes.” Excuses. You didn't want to see him, because this is his fault. You're here because you helped clean up his space after his unfortunate death. Even when you had no idea, he relied on you. He trusted you to carry this burden for the rest of your life. Your rage was suppressed when you heard Mimzy's voice chime back in.

"Nope! He's been busy with uh.. his work. Still wears the ring, though~" She hums, tapping her finger to emphasize her words. You look down at your own hand. Why did you still wear yours, again? You never remarried, but mainly because of the trust issues that were instilled in you for the rest of your life. Maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea..

“N-No, I just cant..” You let out louder than you meant to. Mimzy shrugs off your panic. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, would you, Mimzy?”

-

Mimzy did in fact have a spare room. You stayed in one of the ratty rooms about the bar, alongside some of the demons that rented the rooms for their own business. You realized, after finding a mirror, that you were portrayed with some feline features, nothing too disfiguring. Once you saw your new form, Alastor’s voice, every single time he beckoned you with kitten, rang throughout your mind. You couldn't bring yourself to look at yourself for the first few months. This was Hell after all. Eternal punishment can manifest in several ways.

Mimzy was still a clear supporter of Alastor, so she had a radio set up in your room already. No matter how hard you tried, you realize pretty early on that Alastor had some power over the radios that force his broadcasts to be the only thing streaming. You heard it all. The screams of souls being torn apart, his constant gossiping and cruel words making fun of other demons.

But damn, if it didn't feel like living again. Waking up every morning to the sound of his voice on the radio, before you can truly decipher what he’s talking about, it almost feels like a normal life. But then you hear the pain in those demons that he’s mercilessly tearing up. Sometimes, you see Mimzy cheering at the radio like some sports game is being narrated. You try to avoid her when she’s doing that.

Things were comfortable for many years. As comfortable as Hell can be, at least. Alastor became a distant part of your daily routine, you'd hear his broadcasts all the time, but only in addition to the other bustling city noises. It all seemed to cancel out after a while. You worked with Mimzy, picking up at the bar when she had to run off. In exchange, you stayed in that room indefinitely. You two seemed to become friends again, despite your living history. It became clear to you that what happened when you were alive really didn't matter down here. You all made the same degree of mistakes and you all learned that you’re here for the same reasons.

You went through extermination days as best you could, only having one face-to-face interaction. That day, you were already on the verge of death from falling debris and trying to escape a specifically insistent exorcist. She had you cornered. You shut your eyes, wincing at the upcoming angelic weapon you saw her raise at you. Only feeling a slight sting across the bridge of your nose and cheek, you open your eyes to see her flying back towards the portal to heaven. You can't believe you got that lucky. You’re still in disbelief at the entire scenario, but unlike most wounds down here, your face was permanently scarred. It was small, barely noticeable! Mimzy says.

But you knew not everyone had this much luck on extermination day. After noticing the silence on the streets, during the most recent extermination, you nervously left the bar. Everything was empty. The portal had opened closer to that hotel you’d heard of. And the exorcists were going straight to it. You scoffed, walking back into the bar. They’d finish off those demons there quickly, so you still wanted to hide. As you barred yourself up in your room, you remembered Mimzy telling you about her visit to that hotel. About why she visited the hotel. Alastor's there. You try to not panic. It’s been decades, why are you worried about him? Besides you know how powerful he is, you've picked up his whole radio demon shtick from others. He’ll be fine.

Then why are you so restless?

A loud knocking at your door shakes your entire core. You keep yourself hauled up in the corner of your room, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You still hear a voice call your name from the other side of the door.

“You gotta come see this! The angels are gone!” It's Mimzy. it's far earlier than usual, you were almost worried it was some new tactic they picked up. You crack the door open just slightly, and her small frame pummeled the door open. She paces your room, rambling words that you barely catch, and she shoves her phone to your face. You have to take it from her shaking hands to get a glimpse. It's hard to see, but it's very obviously footage of Alastor fighting Adam. His body is warped through the drone’s camera, and you watch him fade away into nothingness after one blow. There was no audio, You couldn't hear what happened. Considering you weren't familiar with his shadow antics, you had no idea what actually happened to him.

“You gotta find out if he's okay! I can't go back to that hotel, you gotta do it!” she sounds frantic, taking her phone back. “What? Absolutely not! I'm sure he's fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, despite the hesitance in your voice. Everyone's in Hell for the same reasons. Your mind goes back and forth on the possibility of forgiveness.. of mending burned bridges.

“The videos from a few hours ago, those angels are gone! Ooh.. He's just gotta be okay..” You didn't realize how much Mimzy actually appreciated Alastor. Whether it be the protection he offers or their actual friendship, you aren't sure. But she's clearly worried about him. You just aren't ready.

Mimzy spent the next few days begging you to go down there and find him. And you refused every time. She mentioned going to Cannibal Town to visit his "Gal Pal" and even she hadn't heard from him. He's disappeared before, just recently too, You're sure it was just like his last seven-year absence. Even if you were getting a bit worried, you'd never admit it. There were no broadcasts, there was no public trash-talking from the Vees, it was just.. quiet.

“Didn't you love him?” You stare at Mimzy, in disbelief that she just said that.

“Excuse me?” That seemed to strike a nerve. And maybe she meant to do that.

“I remember you two in my bar, you were two peas in a pod! I've never seen him like that with any gal, hun. That's not somethin' that just goes away.” Mimzy takes your hand from across the bar. “Please, go check on him. Maybe it'll be like a final hurrah, but I just gotta know if he's okay.” You look around the room as if someone would offer to go in your place. But she's right. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't missing his broadcasts. You let out a dejected sigh.

“Okay.. okay! Fine.” You huff. An immediate change in attitude, Mimzy lets out an excited exclamation and pours the two of you drinks, to celebrate her pushy victory.

-

You take in a deep breath, looking around the new hotel's exterior. It was much larger than the previous one and more lavish. You hesitate before knocking on the door. A series of whispered voices, then scrambling feet, follow the door opening. It's the princess of Hell. You weren't expecting Alastor to greet you, but you still feel a bit disappointed.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Ho-” You quickly interrupt.

“No! Nono, sorry.” You laugh Nervously. “I'm not here for the whole.. redemption thing. Is.. uh…” You peek around her shoulder, seeing a few demons you recognize from the commercial, but no Alastor.

“Is the radio demon here..?” You finally ask quietly. Charlie still seems a little hurt from the interruption, but just because you're not interested in redemption doesn't mean she won't try to convince you.

“Alastor? Sure! He's been in his tower since we reopened.. So, he's probably up there.” She explains, pulling you into the building despite your refusal. “I can go get him for you! What's your name? I'll tell him who-”

"That's actually okay! I was sent to check up on him, so.. if he's alive, then that's all I need to hear!” Mimzy will just have to be satisfied with that. You're chickening out. If they're saying he's fine, then that's good enough for you. The longer you're here, the more anxious you're becoming. You're worried he could pop out of nowhere. Which is a legitimate concern apparently. 

“Charlie!” A greeting comes from behind the blonde, and you see a red-clawed hand engulf her shoulder. “Already a new resident? How exciting! What unfortunate sinner has found themselves here as a last resort.. today…” 

You know that voice. Of course, you know that voice. He looks fairly similar to how he did when he was alive, the hair was new. Ditto the antlers. A deer? They turned him into a deer down here? You almost want to laugh. Maybe being in Hell for so long has turned your sense of humor that crude. You're staring with wide eyes. He whispers your name so quietly that all you can really take in is his lips forming the word.

“Hey, Al! She was just looking for you! I think she might be worried, right?” 

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up-

“I.. was! But I see he’s clearly fine now, so! I should get back to Mimzy’s-” 

“Mimzy? You're with that trainwreck?” a low voice comes from the bar, interrupting the conversation. The cat demon behind the counter scoffs at you. “Nice ears.” They fold down involuntarily from embarrassment.

“Kitten.” You immediately turn at the sound of Alastor’s voice, shivers thoroughly covering your body. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but it clamps shut. His eyes widen for a moment, looking around the room to see how almost every resident had gathered to witness the new face. You start to back away to the door.

“This may not have been the best idea.. T-thank you, princess, it was nice meeting you.” with a blink of your eye, Alastor’s arm is around your shoulder. 

“Why of course! Thank you for visiting! I'll escort you out!” His chipper attitude startles you, and you feel almost insulted by his eagerness to have you leave.

“Oh! Well.. come back anytime! Our doors are always open!” You hear Charlie call out as Alastor takes you outside the building. Before you even have a chance to protest, you're suddenly in a recording room. Your mouth is still open ready to scold him, but instead, you examine the dizzying change in scenery. Your eyes finally drop to Alastor, who had taken both your shoulders and let his head drop from your view. He startles to mumble.

“W-What are you-”

“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” His head finally lifts and you catch his perplexed expression. Pained eyes paired with a strained smile, it's almost frightening.

“W-Well, I.. it was just-” 

“When did you arrive?”

“A few.. decades ago..?”

“Decades?” His voice goes low and static. You pull away from his grasp as his voice changes. “You shouldn't be here. There has to be a mistake.” His voice returns to normal, and he starts to pace the room. Mumbling more nonsense to himself, he starts gripping at his hair. 

You watch this for a while, before finally approaching him. You take hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in place. Pulling down his arm, you feel the grasp on his hair loosen.

“Calm down. You're pulling your hair out, again.” You say softly, brushing his hand clean of stray hairs he had torn out. Reaching forward you attempt to brush his hair back into place. Your hand pauses, hovering just by his cheek. You want to hold him. He seems to follow your hand when you decide to quickly distance yourself.

His eyes look bloodshot and demonic. How could you still possibly be getting lost in them?

“You shouldn't be here, kitten. You’re here because of me.” You flinch at his words, despite how true they are, you manage to feel some underlying guilt.

“Yeah.. Mimzy just wanted to know if you were alright. And you seem just fine. I should go.” You say bluntly, taking hold of your arms and going towards the door.

“Why didn't you find me?” His words cause you to stop.

“Sorry, you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind when I woke up in Hell.”

“Kitten, I-” His voice seems to drop the radio static. It sounds entirely too familiar.

“-don't call me that.” You snap, biting at your lip unconsciously.

“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “It was.. irresponsible of me to lie to you. I made a mistake.” He sounds more embarrassed to admit he messed up. His ego makes you scoff.

“Yes, it was irresponsible. It was downright cruel, Alastor. I had to live with the burden of your murders and had to die with the consequences.” You turn back to face him, a rage that had been boiling for decades finally spilling over. “I did so much good after you died. It has to be your fault I'm here. I never told the cops, I followed your ridiculous instructions, and it was the worst decision of my life! And now I'm paying for it. For being too far in love to realize that you were just using me!” You've had this conversation in your head so many times, that you have no issue saying exactly what you want.

“No!" He stops himself before he can shout anything else. "I assure you, that isn't the case at all. I love you more than I can put into words, kitten, can't we just-” Alastor reaches his hand out to you and you quickly lean away. You spot the ring on his finger.

“Love? You used me to make sure your record stayed clean! That's not love.” You hiss.

“I did it to protect you. I gave you everything you needed to remove yourself from the situation if anything were to happen to me. You said you went on to do good, and I believe you. That was because of me! The letter and the money were both for your safety- I was helping you.” He isn’t exactly shouting, but his tone is certainly sending chills down your spine.

“You don't get to take credit for my life! I should have never come!” You fling your arms up, turning back to the door. He grabs your arm and turns you back to him, a tight grip on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to seemingly scold you, and you're ready to bite back. You notice him scanning over your facial features, and his expression seems to falter.

“What happened to you?” He runs a clawed finger delicately across the scar on your cheek. It had faded but was still visible. You wince at his touch, which makes him pull his hand back.

“Oh, don't act like you care.” You mumble.

“Of course, I care.” His soft response forces a pained groan from your lips. 

“All these sweet words you’re saying.. I-I don’t know what to think with that ridiculous smile.. I can't take you seriously!” Your voice is beginning to crack, losing the strength to have this go on.

“About that-”

“I hate you.” He flinches at your words, Out of everything you’ve said, you don't understand why that seems to silence him. He grips onto his chest, his coat and shirt scrunching into his fist. You watch him drop his head, bracing himself on his desk that he had stumbled to. You’re sure he’s being dramatic. Hamming it up to get some sort of pity. A sigh passes your lips.

“Um.. Alastor… I didn't mean to-” His act only fools you a little bit. You wonder if you’ve let out too much steam. If he really-

Before you can finish any other thoughts, he collapses to the floor.

“Fuck-” You quickly move to his side, flipping him to his back and helping him at least prop himself up against a wall. “Should I get-”

“Don't tell the others.” He breathes out, putting his hand up dismissively. With the wave of his hand, you see the blood across his palm. Your eyes follow the source to a continuously growing stain on his top. The sight of blood didn't seem to bother you after everything. “Just help me up.” 

“O-Okay.” You do as he says, helping him stand. Almost feeling like an instinct, you pull his coat off of his shoulders. He struggles to keep up with the movement but still gives in. He quickly loses his strength and stumbles to the small couch nearby. You almost enjoy watching him stubbornly refuse your help.

“I.. might require.. some assistance.” He says it so softly you almost want to ask him to repeat himself. Even if you understood him just fine.

“You're asking for help?” You correct him, placing your hands on your hips.

“I don't need help.” He snaps. You would've been offended if you knew he was just to flustered to admit it.

“Then what do you need?” You sit beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his blood-stained shirt. He immediately winces.

“For.. you to stitch this up.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands grazing the fluff of his chest with a mild curiosity. You finally get the full scope of a completely untreated slash that would've surely killed any human if left untreated. But for an almost immortal demon, it was just a painful nuisance. Very painful.

“From your fight with… You want me to help you stitch this up?” You ask because that it seems near impossible to do so, even with someone of your medical history. It's wide and seems to be covered with specks of gold. It feels like small shards of glass when you swipe your hand over him.

“.. yes.” He says quietly. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him. He’s reckless, too stubborn to have looked at the wound because of its reminder of his defeat. And you know that's exactly why it got this bad. No matter how small, Alastor sees the smile growing on you.

“I missed your smile.” He says softly.

“Please stop saying things like that.. You're confusing me.” You make sure to speak your words quietly as if you don't want them to be heard. A small demonic creature rushes to your side, holding a tray up with the essentials to properly treat the slash. It stays perfectly still once in your reach.

You went to work, after some proper scolding, trying your best to keep the process as painless as possible. Every so often, you wonder why you are being so careful with him. He doesn't deserve your tenderness. Your thoughts are stopped when you see his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away. His face is scrunched, a hiss passing by his tormented smile. You must've hit the wrong spot while lost in thought. Your eyes fall to his ring, again.

“Why did you keep this on?” You ask, examining his hand that’s still engulfing your wrist.

“It reminds me of you. And yours?” His voice is hushed, still recovering from the pain. You realize he has a full view of your own hand, your wedding band sitting just as clear to him.

“It.. reminds me of what you did to me.” You hear a quiet groan in response to your words, and he releases your arm, gripping the couch in its stead. You keep going.

“I'll admit, I was worried about you.. after the battle with Adam. Maybe it was Mimzy getting me all worked up..” You finally admit. You don’t want him to think you’ve spent your whole life and death hating him. But why would it matter either way?

“I can't be killed, you had nothing to worry about.” He replies, not willing to comment on your sudden vulnerability. Not in this position. All you can do is laugh at him. He's clearly talking out his ass.

“Looks like you got pretty close to it.” You scoff. His ears flatten, and he looks away like a stubborn child.

You finish up after an hour. It felt much longer. The silence with quiet quips mixed in, the surprisingly intimate moment, it was suffocatingly uncomfortable.

“I didn't want to come here. I was perfectly content in being in Hell. I didn't expect this form of torture.” You say, setting everything back onto the little tray presented to you. That little demon had been standing there this whole time. You notice it started shaking a while ago.

“Come now, you're being dramatic. You chose to find me, did you not?” He says, sitting a bit taller with the regained strength.

“I'm not being dramatic! You try to avoid Mimzy's constant nagging! I hear your voice everywhere, see all the ads for this hotel, and they made me a damn cat, Alastor!” You feel yourself starting to lose your composure, gripping your hair and letting out a pained laughter. “H-how unfair is that..?” You let out a weak chuckle, feeling tears well in your eyes. He pulls your hand away from your hair, brushing his thumb across your ring as he holds you for a moment longer.

“Completely unfair. Your appearance may be.. unappealing … to you, but your face is still the same. Your eyes still bright as usual, your smile just as sweet.” His sincerity is muddling your thoughts. Those thoughts that warn you he’s hurt you before. And now he’s a cruel overlord, he’ll hurt you again tenfold. You feel his thumb drag along your lip after realizing you had leaned in towards him.

“Still biting your lip, hm?” His static fades again, and you wince at the raw skin he's brushing over. Old habits apparently don’t die hard.

“N-nervous tick, I guess..” His closeness leaves you a bit breathless.

“Do I make you nervous?” His tone confuses you. There’s an underlying sense of worry, a genuine concern for your well-being. But you’re still distracted by his strange smile. You don’t have much time to think any further about it before you’re startled by gentle lips against yours. It’s quick but is more than enough to let out a flood of feelings you’ve been suppressing since the day you left your hometown. He looks at you with a sly smile on his face.

“I’m still mad at you.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He kisses you, again.

“Y-You don’t have to-” He interrupts you with another kiss.

“I know.” Still holding your face you barely take in his next words with a clear head. “I miss you.” Another kiss, just to throw you off this time, “I miss having you at my side.

Stay.. please.”

There was no way you would drop everything to live with a man you were barely married to in life. That didn't stop you from seeing him more, though. You were actually.. kind of glad to see him. To patch things up, even just a little. You’d visit, sneaking around at first to avoid any interaction from the other residents of the hotel. They were all more than intimidating to you. Especially considering one of them was the king of Hell. Alastor was more than happy to keep you away from him, though.

You updated Mimzy on how he was when you left that first night, but you left out the unimportant bits.. Like the giant angelic slash across his chest. You didn’t need Alastor to tell you that you shouldn't be going around spreading that information. A true accomplice. When Mimzy noticed you were visiting him to the point where you couldn't cover the bar when she needed you to, she was more than happy to kick you out. You knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want you homeless, but you were essentially left with nowhere to go. Except for the hotel.

It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.. Things almost seemed normal. Alastor had lots of sucking up to do, even though he wouldn't call it that. He was definitely working at it. Making you breakfast like before, treating you like even higher royalty than he ever could while alive. He has the power to do so now and he fully intends to use it. And it’s working.. A little bit.

Okay, a lot.

You’re shocked that he still seems the same after becoming the powerful overlord he is. You’d love to convince yourself that none of that mattered, his status in Hell or what happened when you were alive. That you could just forget mortality to look forward to the potential future facing you. It’s easier said than done.

You're still struggling with your nightmares. Even more so in Hell, likely another form of punishment. Something about the hotel seemed to subdue some of them actually. As if the air were clearer here. It only helped most nights, though. Whenever you woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, clutching at your heart, there was only one thing to calm you. The radio at your nightstand would play a specific song. One that Mimzy was fond of, so you heard it most nights at her bar on Earth. Whenever you heard that, you knew he was there. He was waiting for you.

"Birdy?" You knock on his door, which seems to open slowly just from your touch. Alastor is sitting contently in front of his firepit. This wasn't the first time you've found him in the middle of the night.

"Another one, my love?" He tilts his head up slightly, the book he had in his hand shutting immediately. You nod your head slowly, already approaching him. Your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders is dragging across the ground. You give him a look he recognizes, and he nods at the implications. Without caution, you let out a tired whimper and plop into his lap. He pulls the blanket over your entirety.

Getting completely comfortable, he adjusts his arms to pull his book back to his eyeline. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you're too tired to conceal your little habit of purring. He doesn't mind, though. He loves it.

♡♡♡

Another big boy for ya 🫶

Human Alastor is really fun to write for, I had to do some research tho lol

I tried to keep Alastor's sexuality in mind, so I hope I represented it well. That's always something that makes me nervous when writing for Al 😬

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[theboombutton]

Ok so Alex was the main writer for this casement, and obviously he knew we would latch on to incidental characters that seem a lot like Jon and Martin.

The questions I have are: first, whether it was a prank on TMA fans; and second, if it's not a prank, what he intended to convey by including them. Alex doesn't seem like the kind of guy to leave jmart fan service for its own sake; if those are truly alternate Jon and Martin, I suspect they're there for a story or setting reason.

Was it a prank?

I'm inclined to answer no. Darrien didn't just describe them, he wondered aloud while recounting his story if what happened to him also happened to them. That's not out of the question for prank red-string-bait, but the more you harp on incidental characters that seem like Jon and Martin, the more plausible it becomes that they are. People red-stringing over things that the author draws a circle around and writes "look at this!" next to isn't funny - it's just analysis.

Prank is still on the table, but it's not my preferred explanation.

If they are alternate Jon & Martin, what does their presence here imply?

One thing it probably implies is that we're dealing with more than one alternate universe here.

So far we've only had evidence of two: the Protocolverse, and Celia's home universe. We're reasonably sure that Celia's home universe is the Archiverse, because the character voiced by Lowri in TMA only took the name Celia after she lost her memories in the Eyepocalypse. And if Darrien comes from a universe where Martin worked reception at a therapist's office and Jon was a client, then he didn't come from the Archiverse. He came through from another, until-now-unknown-to-us universe.

Wild speculation ahead

Turn back now if you only want thoughts that are well-evidenced

There's also another possibility we could stack on top of the implication of a third universe. This is primarily supported by Doylist reasoning, rather than in-universe evidence.

Alex wrote ?Jon and ?Martin in close proximity to Darrien's universe shift. He brought attention to the fact that Darrien didn't recognize either of them - ?Martin being a new hire, and ?Jon being a new-enough face to be worth pondering. This would imply it was fairly likely ?Jon and ?Martin's first meeting - likely even their first time being in a room together. And Alex, through Darrien, further invited us to wonder if ?Jon and ?Martin had been pulled across universes as well.

Is it possible that the universe shift happened because of Therapyverse's Jon and Martin being in close proximity at the time?

Jon and Martin are apparently cosmically important in at least the Protocolverse, given that they manifested as two of FR3-D1's voices. What if something in the Protocolverse is pulling in Jons and Martins from other universes? It might be easier or more efficient to find or to pull them when they cross paths, and Darrien just got schlurped up with them this time.

Who would be interested in collecting alternate Jons and Martins? I can think of a few possibilities:

The Fears. They've got Jon and Martin reading case files, maybe they need more Jon & Martin to make FR3-D1 go.

The OIAR. Lena said some entities are benevolent, most aren't, and they're trying to maintain a balance. If Jon and Martin are their "benevolent entities," then maybe they think pulling additional copies into their universe's fear-space strengthens them. Maybe they're even right.

The Magnus Institute itself. It was still around at the time of Darrien's shift, given that the case is from the Institute's files. Jonah Magnus may have figured out (or found out) that Jon and Martin had something to do with his ascension in another universe, and started abducting alternate versions of them as part of his research.

Maybe Chester and Norris started talking a year ago because someone or something finally pulled enough Jons and Martins (and J2s?) into an extradimensional JMalgamation to give them the necessary power.

Maybe Darrien got spat out practically starved to death because he couldn't feed on fear, nor were there versions of himself that could that he could amalgamate with.

And who the fuck is the second J?

[leonawriter]

Excuse me while I basically make Azure Throne into a hakukai fanfic.

This got... really long, and veered off from what I intended for it several times, but is basically at heart as I said, a look at Azure Throne through the lens of "what if we work on the assumption that Hakuba knew it was Kaito from the start, and/or they're actually outright flirting."

Hakuba: Kuroba what are you doing here. Why aren't you even in a disguise- oh, I see. This is interesting.

Kaito: Oh god it's Hakuba he's going to see through me like I'm made of cellophane or something. Please don't call me out here. I am pretending not to know you. Shush. PLAY ALONG.

Kaito: Come on please let one of my detectives have SOME faith in me. Restore my faith in humanity. Take the fucking bait, Hakuba.

Hakuba: Oh, that's. That's... I see what's going on here. That does complicate matters. All right, fine. I'll play along. Because I want to find the truth more than I want you arrested.

Hakuba: [Merely pays more attention to the actual suspects]

Kaito: [internally shouting "THANK YOU."]

Hakuba: We need to know exactly where everyone is, what they were doing, and if you'll excuse me I am going to geek out over science now-

Kaito: Okay well watch me explain in detail how Kaitou Kid (who is Not Me, by the way, in case you needed to be reminded) got in here. And let's conveniently not bring up how no one knows how Shinichi got here and Kid left.

Hakuba: Oh, and I anticipated your entire trick.

Hakuba: Because I know exactly how you work and I also know exactly what your clothes are made of.

Kaito: Wow... you're creepy, you know that? This is why I try and send you off on a wild dove chase each time you're heading to one of my heists.

Hakuba: Isn't it funny how I planned to catch Kaitou Kid that way, and instead I caught you two. I'm sure there's absolutely no connection between either of you and Kid... is there? Kaito?

Kaito: Oh but you know you can't say anything until this case is closed. I know you can't.

Hakuba: This means you too, Kaito. I'll be needing your firsthand knowledge of the way things went, of course.

Hakuba: It'll be good to have another actual detective on board for this!

Honestly I can just leave this one be. Kaito is enough of a tsundere that "But, to think Hakuba came back... he should have just stayed and studied in London forever!" is accurate to what I think he'd be thinking right there.

It also matches with the several times (Dark Knight and Green Dragon especially) when he's personally redirected Hakuba away from the heist.

Plus, with his attachment issues (one parent he idolised is dead, the other is barely home), I think Kaito would have a very hard time dealing with Hakuba, who (like his mother) travels a lot, and is... barely there, really. :(

Hakuba: Now, I wonder if you can keep up as a detective when playing one?

Kaito: Oh yeah? Watch me! Uh... I just need a pointer. That's all.

The interesting thing here is that Kaito has played at being a detective in the past. He's even played at being Mouri Kogoro right next to Hakuba here, in the Twilight Mansion case. However... in that case he wasn't needing to play a smart detective, and in any other instance he wasn't technically a "detective" (Magic Lovers Murder Case, where Katsuki Doito is a medical student) or he knows that Conan is capable of solving the mystery if he gives the right hints (Four Masterpieces, when he's being Takagi).

There's also the time when he played Hakuba himself in the movie Private Eye's Requiem, and we don't know how many times he'd have done that, that we haven't seen.

Point is, though, Hakuba doesn't know how good Kaito's observational skills are as a detective and it feels kind of like... if he knows (and I'm sure he has a gut feeling from the start even if he doesn't have evidence) he wants to know- "I can keep up with you, on your territory, but can you keep up with me, on mine?"

With that in mind, the fact that Kaito's only relaying what Shinichi's telling him must be... frustrating, for someone who'd actually be curious what Kaito can do, and I'm sure Hakuba would want to push Kaito to be able to figure things out for himself as well.

But I digress. Moving on.

Hakuba: [Has just seen "Kudo" flirting and being sentimental with Ran, "his" girlfriend, in a way that Shinichi himself says is so spot-on its kinda pissing him off] Oi. Kaito. I thought you were interested in Aoko. Watch it. [Also kinda jealous himself.]

I freakin' LOVE these two panels. This entire sense of "Yeah Hakuba's got Kaito sussed and he's already got half of what's going on with Conan, and yeah the next thing he does is question "Are you really Kudo Shinichi?" it's because of a potential flawed deduction when Shinichi's supposed to be this perfect saviour of the Japanese Police Force.

And in posing the question in such a way, he's allowing Kaito - master of disguise! - to come up with a cover story. Which, of course, he does.

But overall? It's the sense of... actually, just as I said. Hakuba's going "Shh. I'm talking to [him]! Don't interrupt us, okay?" - He's going "I know you're helping him, but I want to know his capabilities. Not yours."

Kaito just calling his ass out like "Hakuba I know you're obsessed with me- I mean Kid- c'mon I know you better than that~"

Also the phrase "Rumoured to have his eyes light up at the mere mention of Kid" more like. Kaito you have seen that in person.

More like I look at it and I'm like, is this Kaito saying "I Know What You Are"?

I know that it's not just them, but it's this nice little touch of the two of them standing next to each other, while Conan is on the other side of the group, and they're both mirroring the other's posture.

Kaito's already thought to himself how he barely needs to change his voice, and it's easy to imagine him barely changing his behaviours but adjusting so that he's more serious and less playing the clown or showman.

In this case, he's fully paying attention to the case (just as he has in previous ones as a witness) and...

He and Hakuba are on the exact same wavelength, with Hakuba finishing Kaito's sentence here.

Again with the twinning. Kaito has a slightly more clueless look about him, I'd say, but that's because he is out of his depth. Other than that? He's just as much taking Hakuba's lead on the case as he is Shinichi's!

The sheer amount of "Kuroba, your alibi is slipping!"

Hakuba's not going to outright cover for something that might be noticed as a flaw later on, nor is he outright going to call Kaito's disguise out immediately when other things are going on. He is, however, going to tease him to hell and back, push buttons, you name it.

And, of course, Hakuba in hearing Kaito's alibi and seeing Conan back it up, will also know that Conan is on Kid's side here even more than before.

Small and simple observation: Kaito is behind Hakuba.

At this point Hakuba in canon and the Hakuba who knew from the moment he laid eyes on him both know that this is Kaito. It's Kaitou Kid.

The start of the case had the crime get pinned on Kid.

Yet - Hakuba's just fine with Kaito watching his back and/or fully capable of doing whatever he likes behind him, knowing full well that Kaito's a skilled magician who'd be able to hide his actions. The obvious point is that he trusts Kaito.

And then - we get to the Flirtening.

I call it that because in canon it's bad enough, with Hakuba clearly only started making moves on Ran to make Kid slip up.

But in a world where he knows it's Kaito from the start? In Hakukai Fanfic Land?

First off- I'd say that this is actually payback.

Earlier on in the case, Hakuba saw Kaito (as Shinichi) flirting with Ran. Thinking back to the very first set of cases Hakuba ever appeared in, and... he'd walked into class for the first time and seen Kaito being mean to a girl, to Aoko, who was clearly hurting, and then tried to be nice to her by saying, basically, "If he won't take you to the concert you wanted to go to, I'll go with you."

Going on him knowing that this here is Kaito? He'd be seeing Kaito flirting with someone who isn't Aoko, and getting very in character, and... basically going "watch it."

So Saguru is a) defensive for Aoko, b) jealous because oi, why are you flirting with her, when he is right here, and c) using this as a means of poking a hole in Kaito's disguise, because sure he's more interested in the truth than he is in arresting Kaito, but that doesn't mean he's above making life hard for him.

In which case...

Kaito going "What did you say, jerk!!" is just as much "oh shit yeah I'm supposed to be being Shinichi right now" as it is "Hakuba why are you flirting with someone else?"

The reaction would be delayed because a) Kaito knows Hakuba's not interested in Ran, or not interested in girls in general, and b) the sheer amount of "what the fuck is happening. what is going on in front of me here" he'd be feeling.

Because for one thing, Conan's down there making attack dog noises, and for another- d'you think Kaito would just reflexively fall back into poker face if he saw the guy he likes/who he knows is interested in him just easily flirting around? I think that ordinarily Kaito would just be like "eh, that's just Hakuba being Hakuba" but I'm also aware of how fragile Kaito's social connections and relationships often are, as well as the rift between logic and emotion.

After this we have a few different things happening at once.

We have Kaito not having asked which cheek Ran had kissed Shinichi on and gesturing to the wrong one, which Ran instantly notices:

Note that the flashback isn't just for our benefit; we see later on that Ran realises probably in this moment that there's something Wrong with "Shinichi" because how could he forget which cheek she kissed him on?

This being relevant because right before that...

He'd told Ran to not "space out" - but with the weirdness going on between him, Hakuba, and Conan, I wonder if it was actually Kaito who knew he was kind of spacing out here! Like, sure, Shinichi's sending Kaito lines, but in terms of narrative and themes...

And in canon, this is where Hakuba first notices the mike and earpiece that Kaito and Conan are using to communicate. Even in a version where he knew it was Kaito from the start, this would still be where Hakuba realises "Hey, what's UP with that kid?"

Hakuba, in canon: Could it be... that those two...

My headcanon for that is that he was meaning to say "are working together," which is the easiest and most obvious/simple conclusion of his sentence.

Hakuba, in fanfic hc land: Hey, why are they working together? I know I didn't warn him I'd be here, but he could have been working with me. That kid already stole some of my reputation regarding going against you, and now this too?!

Honestly, sometimes I remember the times when Kaito has shown himself able to figure out a trick or even a murder trick more or less on his own or at the same pace as Shinichi, and I see times like this when he's shown as needing a lot more help, and I feel frustrated that Kaito's seeming to be dumbed down a little to make Shinichi look better.

But then, I think about how there's multiple times over the course of not just Detective Conan but also Magic Kaito itself, where Kaito is uncomfortable around murders and dead bodies.

Which then starts to make sense of the times when he relies more on his detectives' wits for things like this; if it's a logic puzzle trick that he can treat as one, then he can keep up. If there's blood and bodies and Someone Died Here, which they did - someone died before his heist could even begin! - then his mind has a hard time, skittering around the unnerving parts and not being able to give the trick the attention it needs.

I'd imagine his thought process goes kind of like "Okay okay so if I could think of anything that'd be really useful (but a guy died a minute ago I was out there and doing normal things and a guy died) yeah but if you don't think smart now it's going to happen again or they won't get caught (oh god what if I can't do it) I have to but-" and... so on.

And back to point, but - Hakuba hasn't really seen Kaito in the direct aftermath of him having seen someone die, when Kaito isn't pretending to be someone else.

Technically, he still hasn't here, because Kaito is Being Shinichi.

Dark Knight had Hakuba arrive on scene late, as Kid was already leaving the scene, and in Twilight Mansion Kid was Mouri Kogoro, so even if his reactions were touched with reality, no one could tell what was Kid and what was Kogoro. Here, Hakuba wasn't the first on scene, and he only sees Kaito once Kaito's had a chance to put his poker face (and a Mask of Shinichi) on.

I'd even say that... this being Detective Conan, we've had a chance to see an entire character development arc between Shinichi and Kaito, even if it is still one-sided and not the healthiest of dynamics. We know that Shinichi's not really going to hand Kaito to the police on a silver platter.

But Hakuba? The irony is that in MK canon Hakuba is KNOWN for calling Kaito with helpful knowledge about his opponent (Golden Eye, infamously) and withholding information that would put suspicion onto Kaito's civilian identity (Midnight Crow, at least). And yet in this heist, because we're a) seeing things from Conan and Kaito's perspective here, and b) we haven't seen what Hakuba would do in this sort of situation before, he seems... more of a threat if he outright found them out than if it were just the police (who they can trick) or Hattori (who Shinichi would be able to shush).

Personally, I believe that Hakuba WOULD have worked with Kaito to come to all of the same conclusions that they came to in canon with Shinichi as the POV. Hakuba's a good enough detective, after all, as we even see him doing this in canon, drawing the same conclusions without Shinichi having to whisper in his ear once.

Is Kaito side-eyeing Hakuba because he knows Hakuba's being a little shit over this but he can't say anything because he can't admit that he knows the guy personally as well as he does? Is Conan flailing because he feels like they've been sussed out?

Or is it more along the lines of "Oh, you think you're so smart, don't you? Soooo clever. Yeah sure, after you've been hounding me all case- but don't think I'll let you have the last laugh"?

And now, I'm thinking of Shinichi hearing some of the familiarity come out in their voices around now, if not before, and he's finally realising "Oh- okay so Kid knows this guy. Not just aware of him, he knows him. Oh. Oh shit."

Fun fact: we do not see Conan again alll the way through the explanation of the fireman's carry that Hakuba is doing with Kaito as his partner. The next time we see Conan, it's after they've pinned the criminal in place.

I find this interesting because... in spite of this being a case that Hakuba is starring in - the guy who is well known for asking "Why did you do it?" - it's the victim's wife who asks that, by way of her "But why did you kill my husband!?" and it's Conan who suggests a potential reason.

In a sense, they've both stolen Hakuba's thunder here, the wife by taking his catchphrase and Conan for taking the words out of the criminals mouth before the guy can admit it himself, in his own words.

(Ironically, Kaito would agree with Conan on this, probably, what with him having said "isn't it your job to figure [motive] out?" but as I've said before, I see worth in Hakuba asking for it in the criminals' own words.)

I feel like both I and other people have probably made all the jokes about the "I've got the stamina to keep carrying you for ages" part that I don't need to rehash it that much, haha.

But I DO have other observations.

Kaito: So, you figured it out, huh... Hakuba: Of course!

Like... even way aside from the fact that Hakuba's probably just internally going "you're SO lucky I like you, otherwise I'd have just pointed out that you just flattened your hair the moment I walked in" there's something this reminded me of.

In the translation here, Kaito trails off on an ellipsis, but... in a way, that's a question. It's literally "So, you figured me out?" except Kaito may well have been expecting it even in canon, so it's no longer a question.

What's the significance of this?

Well.

It brings to mind how Toichi asked "Will you be able to stop me?" and Yusaku said "[Yeah...] of course!"

And of course we know that whatever Yusaku was able to do, it was never enough to stop the legend of Kaitou Kid from growing - and we also now know that he almost certainly knew that it was his brother Toichi right from the start.

In many ways it's meant to show how Kaito and Shinichi have taken up their fathers' mantles and become each other's rival... but this moment of "You found me out?" "Yeah, of course!" shows that Hakuba is just as much Kaitou Kid's worthy rival. He is thematically and narratively Kid's rival.

(And this is where I get my post limit for images, whoops!)

So, yeah. Kaito then has a space of about three [3] panels between Hakuba saying "I know you're Kid" and then Hakuba trying to walk and finding his legs are cuffed together.

I'd also say that in terms of pranks that Kaito (as Kid) has played in order to get out of a Situation, that was... a lot more on the immature roughhousing side than a lot of what he does. So much of his DC appearances relies on... action movie stunts? Stuff that's actually really risky? Because he needs to rely on that. But with Hakuba he doesn't have to. It reads more like play fighting.

(Because Hakuba, he knows, isn't going to attack him with a deadly soccer ball or knock him out midair.)

A thought on why he cuffed Hakuba's legs together like he did even if they're on better terms would also be the easy "Kaito knows that Nakamori is there, knows that Hakuba wouldn't be allowed to carry him all the way to the station, knows that something would go wrong, and almost certainly by this point knows that he shouldn't go out in public as Shinichi. So he's just as much going "yeah nope, not doing that, bad idea on SO many levels" as he is "I don't fancy going to jail today."

And, for an ending note: Hakuba at no point seems frustrated or upset that Kaito got away. Not for one single moment.

If anything, I'd say he's just going "Ah, there he goes again. Look at him go." with a fond look in his eye.

[cheesus-doodles]

i wonder how izana is like if he had a s/o during the time when he was the black dragon leader

Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

‎‎‎

i have actually answered this previously in these Relationship HCs ! and this is also the case in my red dragonflies AU, former gang leader reader is actually Izzy's s/o when he was the black dragon leader - have linked the masterlist up top cough

but because I like to rant, here are some more thoughts about yan black dragon-era Izzy and you, which can apply to both regular reader and gang leader reader!

Izana was probably already very unstable and jealous during his time as the 8th Gen Black Dragon leader, what with the entire situation between Shinichiro constantly talking about Mikey, and learning that the Black Dragon gang would go to said boy instead of him. Combined that with him having found you as an s/o, someone that Izana would see as his, something that he could finally own and keep to himself without having to share (unlike the whole situation with Shinichiro), no doubt that it wouldn't take long for Izana to swing into yandere tendencies, becoming extremely overbearing and overprotective over you.

‎

With you around, there is a very clear difference in Izana's mannerisms and general behavior. Almost a personality flip in fact, it's night and day how he acts in your presence and when you aren't present. After all, there's a certain way that Izana wants you to perceive him as, and then there's everything else - so this white-haired boy would be sure to carefully tailor and adjust how he acts around you to what he knows you like (to a certain degree of course). As long as you don't threaten the status quo, as long as you keep by his side and his side only, your precious Izzy is whoever you want him to be. Loving, kind, doting, he can almost seem to read your mind and predict your moods.

Knows how to make you feel better after a shitty day, knows what to say and what to do to get you falling heads over heels for him over and over. But don't let that fool you into thinking that you were beyond his manipulation, because nope, not a chance. If he even has the slightest doubt that you were drifting away from him, or worse, thinking of leaving him, expect for Izzy to start subtly tearing you down. He wouldn't sound any different from what he usually does, cooing, low, soft murmur, but the things that slip from his mouth; it pokes at your insecurities, stirs the doubts you have about yourself. Yes, you were the most beautiful person he had laid eyes on, but did you think that really extended to everyone? Surely, surely you know that only he can love you like this? You couldn't possibly survive away from his side the way you are, right?

In his mind, Izzy is only doing it because he loved you as much as he did - you were made for him, like he was made for you. He couldn't live without you, so even if he had to hurt you a little, it'll all be worth it. You'll see that it was all for you.

‎‎

Wouldn't be uncommon to see him roaring down streets, both city and mountain ones alike, on his motorbike with you clung to his back and with no specific destination in mind - just likes to spend time with you, brings you anywhere that you want to go. Besides, the delinquents in the city, be they Black Dragons or rival scum, know better than to stare at the two of you. Loves light, airy places, so be prepared to spend a lot of time just hanging out together on rooftops and mountains, somewhere where you can feel the breeze through your hair, where Izzy can get you all to himself. All your attention being on him is the best kind of date.

There's no such thing as privacy, period. He absolutely needs to know everything that happens in your life, and anything less would earn you a full tantrum and fit. Put simply, its either Izana is there, hovering next to you and keeping one violet eye on all your ongoings, and no doubt this baby boy has someone (cough Inupi cough) tagging you from a respectable distance when he isn't free. That is, on top of having unfettered access to everything on your phone; call logs, messages, photos. Nothing is secret from him, why would it be? What do you have to hide from your partner?

You don't go anywhere new without Izzy. Why do you have to? What were you hiding? Your future husband would be happy to take you anywhere you have to go: cafe, the new department store downtown, even festivals. So unless you were trying to hide something from him, why wouldn't you want him to go along? Don't you know how dangerous it is out there? What if you get jumped by a rival gang? Needless to say, keeping presents a secret from this boy isn't a walk in a park.

‎‎

Everything else that Izana doesn't think you would approve of seeing would be done out of your sight. He doesn't like having you see the darker side of your boyfriend, the one that deals with weapons and drugs, the one that beats people, both civilians and his own gang members alike for the mildest of perceived infringements against you. You were too soft, too delicate for that. What if you got scared off? What would he do if you became frightened of him?

Instead, all his rage, all his hatred, he poured into the Black Dragon gang, leading them down darker and darker paths. The entire world was scum as far as he was concerned, trash that he had to beat and flatten into perfection so you didn't have to foul your hands and feet.

Sure Izana couldn't keep Shinichiro to himself as much as he desperately wanted to, the first time he truly found family - the source of a lot of his anger and jealousy. He hated Mikey, and always will, for stealing his older brother. But you were perfection, divinity, and you filled the hole in his heart; you didn't have to see that side of him if you just stuck by his side and returned his love. You were the only thing giving stability to a very fragile Izzy, and god only knows what would happen to him if that stability ever left. Izana would give you the sun and the moon if you wanted them both, all he asked for in return was your loyalty.

[luveline]

you're writing for bradley!! i am so so excited!! could i request just some domestic fluff with shy!reader and bradley? maybe her coming home from a long day and he's just the perfect boyfriend with a glass of wine and a hug ready for her? love u gorgeous 💗

thank you for requesting, babe, I absolutely adored writing this and him, let me known if you have any more!! —bradley helps you feel better after a bad, long day with wine and a multitude of hugs. fem!reader 1k

You push into your apartment, a ground floor slotting of sandblown terracotta tiles and wooden shutters weakened by termites, and pause. There's something wrong, a humming sound. 

You take a step back toward the door and slide your phone from your pocket. 

Hi Bradley, where are you? I think somebody has been in my apartment. Should I worry? you text him. You've continued a streak of politeness with him even now, too shy to dip into the familiarity you feel when he's holding you close over the phone. You follow it up quickly. Don't worry, I'm sure it's okay. Do you know what time you'll be coming over? Any time is OK.

"It's me!" Bradley calls with an easy chuckle. Couch springs creak as he jumps up, and a second later he appears in the living room doorway with a frankly breathtaking grin, shoving his cell into his pocket. "I'm coming over right now. Holy shit, would you look at you?" 

You hold your bag closer to your side, hair not nearly as neat as it started that morning, the day's chaos etched into the small wrinkles either side of your eyes. "Me?" 

When he smiles, it's all white top teeth and joy. For someone who's been through so much, and who works so hard, he's a shaken bottle of fizzy happiness whenever the moment allows —you barely have time to put your bag next to the rack of shoes (and there, his shoes you must've missed toed off and perfectly aligned with your sandy flip flops) when he's crossing the hall in quick strides and pulling you into an ecstatic embrace. 

"Hey," he says, kissing your cheek, moustache not scratchy but far from soft. It rubs a wonky trail as he kisses without goal. Kiss on your nose, your cheek, close enough to your eye to make you cringe and back away. 

"Hi, Brad," you say breathlessly. 

You need time to prepare yourself for seeing him usually, his sudden closeness catching you off guard. You struggle to make any sense of how much he likes you, but you've given up denying his attention. You want it too badly. 

He doesn't stall at your obvious (embarrassing) flustering; he doubles down. His arms like steel cords behind your shoulders, Bradley noses at the side of your face, his breath warm on your cheek as he says, "Sorry, I thought surprising you might be nice, but I didn't think about your nerves." 

"My nerves," you say. 

"Your bad nerves. You're flighty." He gives it another press, the straight line of his nose digging into your cheek before he pulls away. 

Bradley doesn't give you time to miss his arms around you. He makes for the kitchen, notices you aren't following, and grabs your hand. Tugging, he takes you into the kitchen and elbows open your refrigerator, revealing a better sight than what you'd seen this morning. 

"I had to go out again when I saw your fridge," he says, ducking down to push aside what looks like the makings of your favourite meal to unearth a pretty bottle of red. "Sweetheart, when you said you had a shitty breakfast, I was picturing, like, half a grapefruit. Did you eat anything?" 

He only knows what you'd texted him, shitty breakfast code for the found half of a cereal bar in your jacket. 

You don't like to text Bradley too much in case you put him off, but today was bad, and you know he doesn't mind. He'd told you so only a few days ago. His hand full of your stomach, hot under the collar, you can't remember what you'd been talking about initially, your memory intricately busy remembering the planes of his tightly muscled torso and the feeling of his weight atop you, but suddenly he'd been leaning down, brown eyes pleading. "You can talk to me," he'd said. "About anything. I want to hear it. You know that, right?"

So you texted him somewhere around lunch time and had been delighted to find him puttering around doing a whole lot of nothing. He's been keeping himself busy on leave, staying fit, helping your elderly upstairs neighbour put together her new chest of drawers between half marathons and surfing, regular dreamboat stuff. 

I think I'm having a bad day, you'd said. What are you up to, Brad? Can I still see you tonight? 

Why do you act like I'm not obsessed with you? he'd text back immediately. Kidding. Kind of. What's wrong? Can I bring you lunch? 

Raincheck on lunch? I don't think I'll have time. I'll explain later if that's OK. Miss you. 

Miss you too, baby. I wanna hear all about it tonight.

You blink up from his hands to find him staring at you worriedly. You're in your own head, exhausted and a little muddled after such a long day, and he clearly doesn't like it. 

"Is wine gonna make you feel worse?" he asks, tapping your thigh with his knuckles. 

"Definitely not," you say.

"Before dinner?" 

Your smile turns sheepish. You want the wine much more than the dinner, but if you get both, you won't complain. 

He leans back against the fridge, arms crossed, the neck of the wine bottle held precariously in a confident hand. "Sure you're okay?" he asks. 

"I will be." You take a brave step forward and look up into his face. It's difficult to grasp what it is he sees in you when he's like something out of a movie, all brains, brawn, and bleeding heart. You don't get it, but he wants you, and he's here. "Thanks for coming over, Bradley." 

"This shtick again?" he asks, raising his brows. 

"This shtick again," you repeat, grinning at the implication. 

He hooks your ankle with his. "Thanking me for coming over is like thanking a fish for swimming. Couldn't stop myself if I wanted to." 

Your laugh is a wheeze. Brad does you the generosity of pretending you've made a more intelligible sound and pulls you in for a one-armed hug, rubbing a rough up and down into your side. It's such a nice feeling to be tucked up under his arm that you can almost forget how badly you want a glass of wine. 

"Want the big glasses from the top shelf?" Bradley asks knowingly. 

"Yes. Please." 

[sukioyakio]

little brainrot

R. Sukuna - thought that dating you;the quiet ghost that lurks throughout the college campus halls,whatever what they called you,he was just thought that this was going to be boring as heck and even wonder why he was doing this.

But he'll sure in hell not going to leave you.You sure knew how to hide your emotions in public but in private he see you with such confidence that made me wonder how are you the same person.

You could be playing Minecraft or any game and you two would argue with each other.

"How Stupid are you,How will we ever progress when your so weak and in need of me all the time." Sukuna voice drips of mockery in the mic,in which he could already see that cute angry frown you do before 'talking' to him.

"mhmm,I don't FUCKing know babe?Just maybe If you STOP being a Rude ass and stealing my iron" You exclaimed loudly with your voice raising a bit with frustration in the mic.

“So making shears with the iron was Best ‘Fucking’ Plan you had” He said with the mockery tone but lanced with sarcasm in.

Asshole has your stuff in a chest but he doesn’t let you that much because he like to fuel you up.

You whisper a curse word with an eye twitch.

“Oh my fucking god! IT WASNT MY FAULT THAT the fucking iron boots next to THE FUCKING SHEARS!!it different on PlayStation Then on PC dumbass!” Your voice spite up in frustration while replying to Sukuna in the mic.Your eyes brow furrowed down and an angry frown laying on your face.As the glow of your tv was your only light in your room.

You could hear his deep rich laughter through the mic finding your frustration funny.

”Oh Because it ‘SO’ hard to play PlayStation with a controller then on Pc,I’m pretty Sure that I’ve played on that shit and it was easy enough Princess” He said in his cocky voice and emphasizing the princess part.

"Well fuck you and your wanna complete the game ass Your Highness" you said with emphasize the Highness part just how sukuna did.

He just love seeing the different emotions play on your face whenever it just you too,but will the man say that nope he'll keep that a secret for him to know.

To be honest he shock at how you return to your quiet persona when you both are in public,Nonetheless the it still the same thing with him.He doesn't enjoy the fact that you don't like to show your relationship with in campus, no matter how many times you said calmly to him saying that you really are shy about it.He doesn't listen and won't either.

For instance,When walking around the halls in search of you,his little ghost.He spot some Low life loser taking to you with love heart in their eyes,and just to see you nod to every word that sip out of their mouth irritated the fuck out of him.

He clearly walked towards you.While he was at he thought he could surprise you while glaring the guy. His right behind you as the guy talks about some boring ass crap,his snakes his hand around your waist in a possessive manner. Completely caughting your attention with a gasp that sip out your mouth.

"Oh there you are ghost,I was Wondering as how you are.I wanted to say how good and incredible you were last night I had so much fun"He said clearly loud enough for the guy to hear and for him to be cut of his words. As finished with a proud smirk.

Sukuna could die laughing at how the man look so pathetically running away like A rat right now but didn't feel the need to,Not when you pushed him.Your face painted with rosey color on your cheeks and ears,and a frown on top of that.

'his feisty ghost'

The only reason why you aren't completely fuming at him is that non one was outside but him and you but still.

"W-what on earth was that for!!" you exclaim in disbelief,staring up at your boyfriend tall frame.Making a shadow that case upon your figure.But you also know how your body suddenly feels wall textured brushing your back.

"You tell me ghostie,I didn't like the guy Dragging his heart out for you when it belongs to me" he says in a low tone and steady pace;slowly his body is right against you pinning against the wall,he lean's closely to your neck,catching how your voice hitches as well as your lose of words.

——

That it,that all I have from my little brainrot and I probably have a lot of grammar mistakes

[s0urw00lf]

Two peas in a pack : Magic bullet

Stiles stilinski x reader

An: I knowwww it’s been a while… do what to say and this wasn’t even hard to write… no excuse. Anyway enjoy!

    Scott Stiles and y/n were all sat in class as their teacher handed out test results. Stiles, who was sitting to y/ns right and behind Scott, tapped Scott on the shoulder getting his attention. "If Derek isn't the alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who is?" He asked, y/n nodded "Great question". Scott pondered for a second before answering "I don't know". Stiles sat back but quickly leaned forward again. "Did the alpha kill the bus driver?" He asked, and again Scott answered "I don't know"  Stiles sat back again exhaling dramatically loudly, before leaning up again "Does Allison's dad know-" he said but was cut off by Scott "i dont know!" He said way louder, attracting the attention of the whole class momentarily. The teacher had finally reached the trio, y/n looked down at her paper and smiled at the circled A+ at the corner of her paper, she looked over to Stiles and he showed his that just read A. Y/n smirked when she showed hers, laughing at the way stiles face dropped. Y/n took a quick glimpse at Scott while smiling and her smile immediately dropped, making Stiles turn to look. His face mirrored y/ns shock. "Dude you need to study more" Stiles said jokingly "Yeah Scott I knew you were failing, but I didn't think it was this bad" y/n said going along with Stiles's teasing "Okay we’re joking. Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up," stiles said trying to lift Scott's spirits, "He's right. Hey, I'll even help you study," Y/n said. Scott sighed "No it's okay, I'm studying with Allison today," Scott said nonchalantly. Stiles plastered a surprised expression on his face "That's my boy" he said making y/n groan. "We're just studying," Scott said shutting down what everyone knew Stiles was referring to. "Uh uh. No, you're not," he said pushing his case.

    "No, I'm not?" Scot said questioningly. "Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you. If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to go I will have you de-balled" Stiles ranted. "Don't feel pressured Scott, it's nobody's fault Stiles can't get laid" y/n said, smirking when Stiles looked at her with one eye squinted. "Not like you can either y/n," he said arguing back. "Oh no I can, I just choose not to." She said widening her smirk. "Okay! Just stop with the questions man" Scott said interrupting the banter. "Done. No more questions... no more talk about the alpha or Derek. Especially Derek who still scares me." He said. As soon as y/n heard Stiles mention Derek y/n began to get an overwhelming sense that Derek was nearby. She immediately brushed it off not seeing how he'd be able to get in the school during school hours.

    the school had just let out and y/n followed Stiles to his jeep and laughed as he happily jumped in. He pulled out and began to drive out of the parking lot but was abruptly stopped by a very sickly-looking Derek Hale standing in the middle of the road holding his hand up as if to say "Stop". " you gotta be kidding me this guy everywhere" "Ok seriously this guy’s everywhere" y/n said at the same time as stiles, as they looked around for Scott hearing honking from behind them. Scott ran up to the driver's side, then to Derek making both y/n and Stiles get out and do the same. "What are you doing here," Scott asked kneeling beside Derek. "I was shot" Derek replied with labored breaths. "He's not looking so good dude," Stiles said. "Why aren't you healing?" Y/n whispered yelled as she knelt as well. "I can't. It was a different kind of bullet." He answered. "A silver bullet?" Stiles asked. "No you idiot," Derek said glaring up at Stiles. Scott's eyes widened "Wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours," Scott said. "What? Who said 48 hours?" Derek asked. "the one who shot you" Scott answered. Just then Derek groaned and his eyes shifted to the glowing blue. Y/n looked around panicking making sure nobody was close enough to have seen it. "What are you doing? Stop that" she hissed. Derek shook his head "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't." He growled breathlessly. "Derek. Get up!" Scott demanded.

The honking began to get more consistent. Scott lifted Derek as y/n opened the door before climbing into the back seat. "I need you to find the kind of bullet they used," Derek said as Scott closed the door to the jeep. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?" He asked.  "Because she's an argent, she's with them," he said. "Why should I help you?” Scott asked "Because you need me," Derek said, making y/n sigh. He was right and Scott knew it "Fine, I'll try. Hey get him out of here" Scott said to Stiles who had just gotten in the driver's seat. "I hate you so much for this," Stiles said through gritted teeth, before pulling off.

They'd been driving for about 30 minutes in silence and Stiles sighed picking up his phone to call Scott, he sighed even louder when he didn't answer, so he decided to text. 'Did you find it?' To which Scott replied 'need more time' making stile slam his phone on the seat, he looked over to Derek who had come out of his jacket "Hey try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?" He said. "Hey stiles ease up, he's shot," Y/n said, stiles again sighed "Fine. We're almost there anyway" he stated. "Almost where?" Derek asked. "Your house," Stiles said. "What? No, you can't take me there" Y/n sighed putting in her earbuds to not hear the two bicker, even when Stiles abruptly stopped the jeep. She thought it was best for them to sort out their differences.

Hours had passed and y/n groaned, they were parked on the side of the road and she was at the point now where she was aggravated. She got out of the car and dialed Scott's number. Surprised when he picked up

Y/n- Hello Scott it's me one of the two friends you so graciously forgot about that is sitting with the dying wolf... where the hell are you!?

Scott- I'm sorry they made me stay for dinner, where are you?

Y/n - parked on the side of the road. Where we have been for going on 2 hours!

She said getting back in the car, holding her phone out for Stiles to take

Stiles - what are we supposed to do with him?!

Scott- take him somewhere. Anywhere!

Stiles- and by the way he's starting to smell

Scott- Like what

Stiles- Like death

Scott- ok, take him to the animal clinic

Stiles- What about your boss

Scott- He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster

Stiles sighed "You’re not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you,” he said handing Derek the phone

Derek- Did you find it?

Scott- How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million. This house is like the freaking Walmart of guns

Derek- If you don't find it, then I'm dead, alright?

Scott- I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing

Derek- Then think about this the alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet.

Derek hung up the phone and handed it back to y/n. Stiles started the jeep and they began on their merry way to the animal clinic. "Isn't it ironic we're taking an injured werewolf to an animal clinic?" y/n said with a laugh. "Don't forget you were bitten too" Derek huffed. Y/n made eye contact with Stiles through the mirror and smiled

They arrived at the clinic and Stiles unlocked the door, Derek plopped down on the animal food, y/n got a message from Scott "Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Y/n asked Derek. "It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring it to me" he said. "Why?" Stiles asked. Derek looked Stiles dead in the face "Because I'm gonna die without it". Y/n sighed a little more panicked she texted Scott with urgency 'You need to get here NOW'

Y/n followed Derek and Stiles through to the operation room. Derek discarded his shirt to which y/n's eyes widened and quickly looked away, and Stiles was quick to look over to see  y/n's reaction.

The wound looked horrible if y/n was being honest, "You know that doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles said making y/n shake her head. "When the infection reaches my heart it'll kill me." Derek panted. "You know you really know how to be optimistic," y/n said sarcastically. Both y/n and Stiles watched as Derek rummaged through the drawers and cabinets obviously in search of something. “If he doesn’t get here with the bullet in time, I have a last resort,” he said. “Which is?” Stiles asked. The pair stared at Derek as he pulled out some sort of electric saw “You’re gonna cut off my arm.” Derek answered. This shocked the room into silence as y/n and Stiles racked their brains for something to say. “Oh my god! What if you bleed to death?” Stiles exclaimed. “It’ll heal if it works,” Derek said through clenched teeth as he tied a band around the bicep of his wounded arm. “I can't do this” y/n muttered as she turned away from Derek gagging. stiles nodded his head “Look, I don’t know if I can do this” Stiles explained, sounding like he was trying his best to hold back a gag.

“Why not?” Derek asked, still tying the band. “Well because of the cutting through the flesh-“ “the sawing of the bone!” “And the blood!” “Especially the blood.” Y/n and Stiles said bouncing off each other’s sentences. “Derek sighed dropping his arm onto the table “You faint at the sight of blood?” Derek asked grunting. “No, but we might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!” Stiles said, making y/n nod along. “Yeah no I can't I’m sorry Derek,” Y/n said. “Alright fine. Either you cut off my arm or I'm gonna cut off your head.” Derek said to Stiles. “Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats-“Stiles was cut off by Derek grabbing his shirt and slamming him to the table “All right, bought, sold, totally, I’ll do it” Stiles rambled.

Y/n groaned “You’re an ass sometimes you know that?” She said to Derek “But I'll pass you this time because you’re dying” Y/n said before Derek leaned over and puked some sort of black substance right at his feet “Holy god, what the hell is that!?” “Jesus, I just might projectile vomit,” y/n said gagging while turning away from Derek for the second time tonight. “It’s my body trying to heal itself,” Derek said “Well it isn’t doing a good job,” Y/n said moving towards Stiles. “Now. You gotta do it now.” Derek said to Stiles. But y/n's ears picked up something unusual. The fast breathing of someone coming closer to the clinic, but how could she hear that? How all of a sudden. She heard something drop and hurried footsteps “Guys I think Scott’s here. Y/n muttered “Stiles? Y/n?”. Y/n's head shot up towards the door, she was right. Scott popped through the doorway seeing Stiles holding the saw to Derek’s arm “What the hell are you doing?” Scott almost yelled. Stiles let out a relieved chuckle “Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares.” Stiles said. “Did you get it?” Derek asked. Scott hurriedly dug the bullet out of his pocket and gave it to Derek. “What are you gonna do with it?” Y/n asked “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” Derek panted before he fell to the ground passed out and dropped the bullet. Scott hurriedly chased after it while Stiles and y/n worked on waking him up.

Y/n tuned out the yelling as she thought, but only one option came to mind. “We have to hit him. Hard” Stiles looked at her as if she was crazy “It's the only way, we don’t have that salt here, we don’t know what to do with the bullet so we can't do it ourselves.” Y/n rushed “We have to hit him”. Stiles looked down at Derek “Please don't kill me for this” he said before he punched Derek square in the face. “Ow, god” Stiles hissed as he shook his hand in pain, Derek had woken up. “Give me,” he said softly as Scott handed them the bullet, and y/n and Stiles helped him up. Derek quickly got to work biting the tip off the bullet and emptying the powder before lighting it on fire, a blue smoke emitted from the substance. He wiped the powder from the table into his hand as he took a breather before pouring it into the bullet wound making him yell out in agony, as he fell to the ground still yelling the trio watched grimacing at his yells of pain, but their wasn’t much they could do. They watched as the wound quickly healed, “that was AWESOME!” Stiles cheered pumping his fist in the air “Are you okay?” Y/n asked. “Aside from the agonizing pain,” Derek remarked. Making y/n roll her eyes “I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health” Stiles said making Derek glare at him. “Okay, we saved your life, which means you’re gonna leave us alone,” Scott said, y/n groaned and walked away muttering “I’ve had enough testosterone for one day”.

She situated herself in the waiting room of the clinic, now able to fully focus on how her body was changing. Her muscles are more defined, she’s hearing better, and if she were to guess she's stronger too, which means the bite did take effect and she’s turned. But into what? She asked herself before Derek walked passed her and out of the clinic with Scott following. She watched them leave wondering where they were going. Stiles soon walked into the waiting room, joining y/n. “where are they going?” Y/n asked softly. Stiles shrugged “Something about the argents, I don’t know,” he said. Y/n smiled “he really is whipped,” Y/n said looking at Stiles, almost lovingly. Stiles chuckled returning her stare “Yeah, he is” he said, not breaking the stare. The atmosphere began to get tense, both wondering if the other felt the same. Y/n was the first to break the eye contact, chuckling “We should lock up” she said looking anywhere but at Stiles. “Yeah,” he agreed. So they got to work cleaning Derek’s puke first then locking up around the clinic, making sure to leave it as they found it. The pair got in Stiles's jeep and drove home, the atmosphere wasn’t exactly tense but it was too much for y/ns liking. It didn’t take long for her to build up the courage to grab Stiles's hand. Stiles whipped his head towards y/n and stared in shock. Y/n laughed “Eyes on the road you big goof, and close your mouth, you're gonna catch flies,” she said, and Stiles nodded turning back towards the road but squeezing her hand just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming when he felt her squeeze back his heart soared over the moon.

[beansandsprouts]

I'm Not Jealous

Dean Winchester x fem reader

Fluff with a sprinkling of angst

Summary: While on a hunt, you and the boys bumped into another hunter working the same case. You decide to join forces, but you and this new hunter get along too well for Dean's liking.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, blood, little bit of angst, implication of sex

Dean watched as you giggled at something that hunter, Ian, had said. His jaw clenched when you touched Ian's arm and moved in closer to him.

He huffed as he turned his attention back to his array of weapons as Sam gave him a knowing look.

"You know she wouldn't be flirting with someone else if you'd made a move sooner."

"What the hell are you talkin about?"

"Come on man, it's obvious how you feel about her." Sam pushed.

"She's our friend, Sam. I just don't want her to get taken advantage of."

"Uh huh."

You were hunting a werewolf, it had killed four people in the last few days and you all intended on putting an end to it.

You'd tracked it to an abandoned farmhouse a few miles outside of town, and were preparing to make a move.

"Y/n! You ready?"

You turned to face Dean, giving him a bright smile and a thumbs up.

"Alright, let's move!"

The four of you walked back out to your cars, the werewolf having been taken down without too much trouble. There would definitely be some bruises but nothing too serious.

You were leaning back against Ian's car, chatting. Dean watched, brows furrowed as he put away his weapons. His blood boiled when Ian reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Dean, you can't keep angrily staring at them."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He grumbled, averting his eyes and slamming the trunk shut.

"Hey! Ian and I are gonna go grab some dinner. I'll see you guys back at the motel, kay?"

"Yeah...whatever." Dean grumbled, not sparing you a glance.

Sam side eyed him before turning to you, "Yeah no problem. Be safe, call if you need anything."

"Will do Sam." You smiled and turned back towards Ian's car.

"You just cannot stand the thought of her with someone else." Sam chuckled.

"I just...shes never been the type. She doesn't do one night stands."

"What makes you think it's a one night stand?" Sam raised a brow.

"You can't have relationships with this job Sammy. It just doesn't work."

"Maybe not with a normal person. But two hunters? That would work better."

"You don't think she's seriously considering dating that...that...prick?"

"Ian's a nice guy Dean."

"He's not good enough for her."

"You don't think anyone's good enough for her." Sam snorted.

Dean glared at him.

"You are seriously oblivious to how much you like her, aren't you?"

"What're you on about?"

"Do you not see the way that you look at her? The way you light up when she walks into the kitchen in the mornings? How she's always the one you check on after a hunt? You've always guarded her against guys at bars. You've always taken care of her Dean."

"She's family Sam. We take care of family." He growled.

Sam sighed, "Whatever you say."

When you returned later that night, Dean was sitting up in bed watching TV next to a sleeping Sam.

"Hey!" You whispered.

Dean glanced at you, "You have fun?"

You smiled, "Yeah, Ian's great."

He grunted in response, shutting off the TV and sliding under the covers. You bit your lip, you'd kinda hoped he'd have more of a reaction to you going out with someone.

You'd had feelings for Dean for years, but either he didn't notice or he chose not to. Eventually you'd resigned yourself to being his friend, his hunting partner. But you'd always wished for me. Maybe that was why you never pursued someone, you'd always kinda hoped something would happen.

But Ian was funny and cute, and you figured maybe it was time to move on. You'd tried to have a good time tonight, but all you could think about was what it'd be like to be with Dean. You'd come clean about it to Ian, not wanting him to get too involved with someone who was in love with another man. But he'd said it was okay, he was willing to wait for you to fall for him instead. He'd even asked you out again next week. It felt good to be wanted, to have someone want to be with you.

A week later and you're getting ready for your date with Ian. He'd invited you out to this nicer restaurant. Definitely a lot nicer than you were used to. You'd put on a form fitting black dress that came down to the mid thigh and accentuated your curves, the neckline plunged, showing off your chest a bit. You'd left your hair down for once, letting it frame your face nicely. And youd put on some nice perfume Mary had gifted you awhile back. You felt good and you looked good.

You walked out into the main room and the boys looked up as you did, Sam and Cas raised their brows and Dean choked on his beer.

"You look nice." Cas said.

"Really nice. I think I've seen your hair down like...twice." Sam said.

You grinned, "Thanks guys. Its definitely a change from what I'm used to but Ian's taking me to some fancy place in town so the usual jeans and t-shirt weren't an option."

Dean was staring at you, looking you up and down, seemingly in shock.

You heard a knock at the door, and shouted for him to come in. Ian came in, a bouquet of flowers in hand. He came down the stairs and his eyes widened when he saw you.

"Wow."

"Thanks." You smiled at him.

He wordlessly handed you the flowers, still staring. You left the room to try and hunt down a vase.

"You better treat her right." Dean said. Not even looking at Ian.

"Oh like you have?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean growled, standing and whipping around to face him.

Ian had a look of contempt on his face, like he was disgusted by the mere sight of Dean, "Nothing."

"No what the fuck-"

"I found a vase," You said as you entered the room again, "Put them in my-what's going on in here?"

"Nothing! You ready to go?"

"Uh yeah, sure." You said, eyes on Dean's clearly irritated face.

The evening was wonderful, Ian was lovely to be around. And the food was great. You entered the bunker again later that night with a smile on your face, which was quickly gone when you saw the pissed off look on Dean's.

"Dean? You ok?"

"Why are you going out with him?"

"Because I like him? What do you mean?"

"You've only ever needed us. Why has that suddenly changed? What could he possibly give you that me and Sam and Cas and Jack can't?"

You looked at him, shocked. He had stood and turned to face you.

"You can't have seriously expected this to never happen?"

"Why not? We've given you everything you need. A home, protection, family. What else is there?"

You blinked, "What?"

"What does he give you that we cant?" He growled.

You shook your head, "I want to be loved, Dean. I want to be held and kissed," your voice rising, "I want to be taken on dates and brought flowers. And God damnit I want to have sex!"

He just looked at you in shock.

"Listen," you continued, "I love you guys. You mean the world to me. But you all can't give me that. You can't give me what I want." Your voice broke.

"Why not?"

Your face contorted in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Dean's jaw clenched, "Why cant I be the one to give you that?"

"What?"

"Why not me y/n? I know I'm not the ideal partner, I drink a lot, I'm not the most emotional, and I know I don't deserve you, but I can try. I want to try. I want to give you that. I want you to smile at me the way you smiled at that schmuck."

You took a step back, ran your hands through your hair. You'd wanted this for so long. You'd imagined it, imagined what he'd say, what you'd say. But suddenly it was actually happening and you didn't know what to do.

Dean stepped forward and took your hands into his rough ones.

"Can't you give me a chance to do that for you?" He pleaded.

"God damnit Dean. I finally try to move on from you and you drag me right back in."

He drew in a breath as you looked up at him, teary eyed.

You stepped forward and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Dean felt his heart flutter at the small action, he stared at you wide eyed.

"You just...you..."

"I kissed you Dean." You said with an amused look on your face.

He broke out in a wide grin, "Wow."

"Wow?" You snorted.

"Shut up." Though you could tell he really didn't mean it.

"So are you gonna just stand there grinning like an idiot or are you gonna kiss me?"

"I'm gonna kiss you." He said as he leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body, and kissed you.

You sighed happily, reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him like you'd been waiting to for thousands of years. And in some ways, it felt like you had.

He pulled back and began pressing kisses to your jaw and neck, you giggled. The feeling of his stubble brushing against your neck sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. His lips moved down your neck nipping and sucking, leaving marks along the way.

"Dean..." You breathed, your hands gently tugging at his hair.

"You're mine now. And I'm gonna make sure everyone knows it. Especially that wussy little prick you went out with tonight."

"He's not wussy and hes not a prick." You snorted.

"Seriously?"

"At least he was open about his feelings from the beginning. It didn't take him years to realize how much of a catch I am." You grinned.

Dean groaned, "You're not gonna let that go are you?"

"Oh definitely not. It took you three years to finally tell me you wanted me. Three years and me dressing up to go out with someone else."

"God when you walked in...I just couldn't believe it. I'd never seen you like that. Most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And then when I realized it was for that pr-" He paused when you gave him a look, "For that man. It pissed me off. I wanted you to dress like that for me."

"Oh Dean, you lovely oblivious idiot." You cooed.

"An oblivious idiot that you fell for." He teased.

"Damn right I did." You said and pulled him down to press little kisses all over his face.

As you moved to kiss his cheek he turned his head to catch your lips.

"Now, let me show you something Ian definitely can't do." He grinned, picking you up and carrying you off to his room.

The next morning you wandered out sleepily in one of Dean's t-shirts. Sam looked up at you, taking in the way you looked before grinning.

"Finally figured out his feelings huh?"

"Took him long enough." You laughed.

"Damn right it did. I've been watching you two pine after each other for way too long."

"It only took that long because he's an idiot."

"Who's an idiot?" Dean asked, walking into the kitchen and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"No one." You said as you and Sam shared a knowing look.

Dean narrowed his eyes, "Uh huh."

"Nothing to worry about love, eat your bacon." You chuckled.

Dean shrugged and sat at the table, loading his plate with eggs and bacon.

You smiled, a cup of coffee in your hand. You felt satisfied. And happy, and you knew you'd only feel happier as time went on.

[brucewaynehater101]

i want you to know that i scroll through your posts and interactions just to find all your fic recs and open new ao3 tabs.

your tim parenting Bruce au has destroyed me and I love it so much thank you for your service.

do you have any more particularly gut wrenching aus cooking up in your genius noggin?

Heeeey. How'd you know I had a new AU I haven't released yet?

But before we get into that, thank you for the compliments. Angst is my favorite flavor.

As far the AU, you know the saying, "You either die as a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain"?

I feel like that could fit Tim so well.

How I imagine the AU to start out would be Tim as Robin. He's in the batcave with Bruce as the man is showing him a particularly devastating case. Bruce, his mentor but not his father, turns to Tim with a grimmace.

"There's a reason we have a code, Tim."

They both glance at Jason's memorial and Bruce's hands start to shake.

"As much as we may want to give in to our desires and emotions, we can't stoop down to their level. There needs to be lines we won't cross, even for the greater good."

Azure eyes snap to arctic ones, begging for the younger to understand.

"We do this to protect others, even those who are twisted and foul. We aren't the judges or executioners."

Tim nods in agreement, and Bruce's shoulders lose a little of their tension. The older man pats the teen's shoulder in pride before his attention goes back to the murder case.

Tim, as Robin, had many interactions with Bruce that shaped who he was as a vigilante. How much force to apply when fighting, what lines to cross, and acceptable codes of conduct were taught to the kid in several instances. It didn't matter that Bruce himself had broken them or that, on very rare occasions, Dick also broke them. They were rules Tim was expected to follow, and they were reasonable lines. Of course, Tim did everything he could to meet those standards. He may have trained with Lady Shiva, and YJ may get into so whacky ordeals, but there's no excuse to go outside of those bounds.

It became difficult, though, when Jason beat Tim into the floor of Titan's Tower. When Jason, after hurting several family members, was welcomed back. It became a strain on Tim when Bruce enacted the 16th Birthday present fiasco or Tim found out about what the man had done to Dick (the bruise he left on Dick's face after Jason's passing). It was demanding to follow those rules when Damian came into the picture and when Dick handed him Robin.

When Tim found that painting of Bruce, when Dick and the JL turned their backs on him, when YJ wasn't there to support him, some part of Tim said "fuck it." Why should he follow standards he had to leash Bruce into obeying? The man wasn't even here anymore.

He still tried, but he gave less effort to it. He didn't want Bruce to find out when he returned after all.

But Tim? He never returned from that desert. As far as the Bats become aware after Tim sends them the data for Bruce and then blows up the bases, Tim died in the explosions he caused.

And the rest of the AU goes into Tim exploring how the guidelines Bruce gave him were bullshit, so he slowly starts to let more and more go until he has no moral bounds anymore. He's seen Bruce, Jason, Damian, Barbara, Alfred, and Dick all break one or more of these "rules" that were placed on Tim. So why should Tim go along with it?

What does it matter if he betrays, manipulates, tortures, and kills if it saves the most people? What does it matter if he commits suffering if he's helping people?

Until, one day, Bart and Kon are on the other side of the battlefield from Tim. While Bart is steadfast in defeating Tim (no matter how much it pains him), Kon is devastated that Tim never told him he was alive. He doesn't even care that Tim is a villain. If he had just asked, Kon would've joined him.

It's too late now. Bart needs Tim to stop, Tim can't let Kon join him, and Kon is torn between his duty and his friend.

So Tim does what he always does, he sacrifices himself. He allows them to take him into holding, executes his plan to murder all villains left, places restrictions on the JL (so they'll never hurt anyone the way they hurt Tim and abandoned his friends again), and then Tim disappears. Bart opposing Tim was the sign that Tim was in the wrong. He knows that. If he wasn't, Bart would've been on Tim's side no matter how morally grey he got.

Tim had crossed into the black.

He became what he always feared he might one day be.

[cookingwithroxy]

Feminist blogs, and perhaps beyond, mock the concept of 'male loneliness' and condescendingly propose the "solution" that we should just socialize with each other and leave women alone since we are so unworthy of them.

Except

The other men don't care either (The socially fulfilled ones, at least)

When lonely men gather together in solidarity, they are either villainized as evil incels, or genuinely become so by falling into said collective negative spirals anyway

What if I don't get along well with men either? I don't want to have to be boisterous or domineering to feel validated or paid attention to.

If all the awful things these ladies say about males were true, I wouldn't want to be around them either.

One gets fundamentally different experiences socializing with either, so even when I do get along better with men, only part of my social needs are fulfilled and I often go home feeling lacking.

Some even go as far as to say that, since men only want to have sex, they should just fuck each other. I don't know about them, but for us it's a lot harder to do gay activities if it isn't what we truly are. Surely they would understand what it's like to pretend to like sex with someone you aren't attracted to. And while I am bicurious, sex too offers different experiences.

It's pretty obvious that it's a 'fuck yours, got mine' kind of attitude. They act as if they speak for women in general, and use it to push others deeper into self-loathing. Why should I try to connect with anyone then? I know none of us have to be around people we don't like, but surely we can play less coy about it?

The reality is that radical feminists push a view of all of humanity that is hideously toxic, full of lies, and actively encourages straight women to form relationships with gay women...

That has, in so many cases, ended with the 'political lesbian' cheating on their partners because they are, in fact, attracted to men.

It does NOT go without saying that radical feminists are a solid element to the 'gay until they get dick in them' toxic belief about lesbians.

Because they pretend to be lesbians as part of a political view, rather than actual fucking attraction to women.

Caring what they think about men, or women, is a losing game.

Because they are not in any way invested on reflecting the real world in their perspective of their politics.

[soapoet]

W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Taranee Cook; what makes you beautiful

like & reblog if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: If we have each other by Alec Benjamin

there is something so familiar about you that disarms people and draws them in. you have a very warm energy that feels increasingly rare in a world that's so often cold and grim. your beauty is inoffensive and so effortless. you may resonate with the concept of classic and natural beauty and favour timeless things, quality over quantity, honour your roots or stick to the tried and true. there's a strong self awareness and understanding in you that spills into all areas of your life. your heart and character is of great importance to you, and it gives you a sort of ethereal glow from within. you're a loyal confidante who's always ready to hype up your near and dear, but also strangers who need some cheering. despite being so calm you could easily be cast in the role of the defender of the people. princess diana comes to mind, too, because you have so much care for your loved ones and your community and often see that adoration returned. you're generous and kind without allowing anyone to take advantage of you, which makes you a force to be reckoned with.

02.

Shufflemancy: The middle by Jimmy Eat World

you really don't mind if you stand out in a crowd, and often that's your goal. not for the attention, it's simply that in your efforts to show the world the real authentic you, you naturally stick out as a unique individual. you may have gone through an ugly duckling phase before you had a glow up after a journey of self-discovery and experimentation to find what feels most like you. and the experiments didn't stop there, because you are constantly evolving and aren't afraid of trying new things. and this part of your character makes you so endearing. you're open-minded, welcome new and unfamiliar things because you love to learn and expand your horizons. there is something pixie-like about you, an eternal youth with an infinite pool of curiosity and wonder. your creativity spills out of you and into everything you touch, and you find magic all around you and share your visions with those around you who can't help but to be mesmerised by you.

03.

Shufflemancy: Yes mom by Tessa Violet

well, damn. you really bring the heat. your presence alone is formidable, and whether you're aware of it or not, you inspire a lot of love and admiration, but also jealousy and hate. you may find that people either love you or hate you, with very little in between. maybe you have a bad case of RBF or something about you just rubs people the wrong way without you saying or doing anything. but you don't let that bother you, do you? you're not afraid of being yourself and working your assets and your magic. to those closest to you you're a fiercly loyal ride or die. you have a dark sensuality to you. whether you're wearing sweats or a dress is irrelevant, because the air of mystery around you makes you such an enigma that just can't be ignored. you know what you like and what you want, and what you don't, and your integrity and spine of steel makes you a trustworthy ally who can always be trusted to say what needs to be said.

[solarwynd]

https://www.tumblr.com/solarwynd/757367162624180224/what-do-you-think-is-next-for-jimins-career-will?source=share

I'm starting to hear who outside kpop spaces which is excellent news. Jimin already built a solid fanbase with face, and I honestly think he's going to get more mainstream attention with muse. Not like Sabrina Carpenter or Taylor Swift level attention because you need a lot more label support and frankly payola or a boatload of luck for that to happen after just two solo eps but Jimin is rising.

I think it's fantastic that he's doing better and better with every solo release. His next full length album is going to go crazy. I only hope that Hybe slowly see the light as well. They killed like crazy in every way possible. They didn't give who much support but at least they're not actively suppressing it. Maybe I'm too optimistic but I hope that Hybe either open their eyes and provide proper support for his third album or Jimin walks for his solo contract I hope. In any case as long as Jimin keeps releasing solo music, he's going to keep getting bigger and better, of that I have no doubt. When he released lie I thought he couldn't top it but he released like crazy. When I thought he couldn't top like crazy, he released who. I can't wait to see what he releases next.

Also critics are so snotty about EPs which is one of the reasons why I hope Jimin make his next album full length. I think critical acclaim could be one of his next frontiers and in that respect he has the vision and direction down but critics will not go for a 7 song album with an interlude and an intro. Like they already have a prejudice against kpop so the limited songs aren't helping even though structurally it makes more sense to have separated the songs and we know Jimin was on a time crunch before enlisting

Soooo agreed.

If there’s a step or 2 below like a full blown GP artist I feel like that’s where Jimin resides. A lot of people know of him, others might have some vague familiarity, but when you hear that he’s releasing music there’s definitely automatic intrigue there. I also think that Jimin has managed to do something very smart in where people now know to anticipate his title tracks because he’s 2/2 with them.

I think back to that translation I saw of what he said about his “standard of excellence rising.” and I get so excited. Because here’s a man who worked very hard of MUSE but knows that it wasn’t peak him because he was on a time crunch like you mentioned. So when he’s finally free of enlistment and has unlimited time to really sit down and explore even more, I really believe that PJM3 is gonna be his best work. And I’m genuinely hoping that it’s an actual album with like 10+ songs

[saintsenara]

In the last post you implied that jily fell for each other the moment they met, why do you think this? I never really got that vibe (it seems like they both like each from atleast as early as their 5th year) but I could be missing something here.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

for the simple reason that both lily and james choosing to be so bothered by each other the second they properly meet is a very good sign that each considered the other to mean something significant to them from the off.

after all, if lily considered james to be completely uninteresting and unworthy of her time... then she wouldn't have involved herself in the dick-measuring contest he, snape, and sirius get into on the hogwarts express. and james wouldn't have felt compelled to be rude about her - in a way, let's be clear, which he intends her to hear and to know is directed at her - while she's storming out of the compartment with her nose in the air if he didn't think she was worthy of his attention either.

this doesn't mean that what each of them felt for each other was immediately romantic [after all, they're eleven...], but that sort of prickly, "no, obviously i don't care about james potter! i hate james potter! he annoys me just by breathing!" dislike of someone can [in many cases] be a precursor to love...

[because - of course - the opposite of love isn't hatred... it's indifference.]

and it also doesn't negate the fact that both snape and sirius are directly involved in starting - and maintaining, and escalating - the beef. snape's immediate dislike of james and sirius [and their immediate dislike of him] has that same sense of only being so bothered by someone because they matter to you. the text points this out explicitly - that snape is immediately jealous of james having the "indefinable air of having been well-cared-for, even adored, that snape so conspicuously lacked".

and that james is immediately jealous of snape having lily.

one of snape's great tragedies is that he doesn't quite possess the ability to understand the subtext of lily's relationship with james prior to the breakdown of their friendship - and that this is why james and lily bantering [pretty flirtatiously, to be frank] while james is bullying him blindsides him, making him so angry that he lashes out in the only way he believes could soothe his pain and calls her a mudblood.

it's clear from the princes tale, for instance - especially the bit where they're arguing about mulciber versus the marauders - that snape is trying to needle lily into stating conclusively that james doesn't matter to her [and that he's immensely reassured when she seems to do so], but that he doesn't realise that lily calling james an "arrogant toerag" doesn't actually indicate the indifference he's looking for...

that conversation seems to take place in their fifth year - and snape being worried that james' interest in lily is sexual might very well have only started then - but it has as an undercurrent the heavy implication that snape and lily have had similar discussions before. it seems pretty unlikely, for example, that lily would ask snape "why are you so obsessed with them?" if he'd only just started bringing james and his cronies up with her - and it seems equally unlikely that snape would have felt the need to complain to lily about the marauders prior to this conversation if he hadn't been worried for a significant amount of time that lily was not quite as unconcerned by james as she claimed...

[this - for what it's worth - is why i think the anti-jily "james forced her into being with him!" argument doesn't hold up. james' technique is pretty heavy-handed - absolutely - but he behaves the way he does because he's noticed that lily not only reacts to it, but that she reacts to it in ways which aren't boredom, sadness, or fear. and she does this - of course - because james sincerely interests her.]

and - while this comes with the risk of undermining what i said yesterday - it's striking that this is exactly what happens with ron and hermione. while their friendship establishes itself very differently to james and lily's - and while the course it takes towards romance is also very different - that same "no of course i don't care!" interest in each other is present from the get-go.

i don't think this is because jily and romione are intended by the doylist text to be parallels so much as i think that it's a way of conducting interpersonal relationships that jkr is clearly fond of in her own life [which is due both to her own personal idiosyncrasies and the cultural context in which she lives - insulting people you care about is the british love-language, describing a man as an "arrogant toerag" is practically writing him romantic poetry].

but i do think the fact that it turns up in how both couples are written - particularly since the doylist text thinks that james and lily were a perfect couple, even if its readers disagree - is intended to show that, in both cases, the fact that it was irritation-at-first-sight meant it later turning into true love was inevitable...

[wildflowerwoodsworld]

So, I figured I should finally get around to doing a post on my four main OCs, bc they keep popping up in fics and I'd like to have a visual reference that's easily accessable.

Starting with my oldest OC and the one that's technically a canon character, my version of Finral's mother, Fiona Roulacase! I've done a Fiona character study here

Fiona is a nice person. That being said, her view of the world is very much "as long as me and mine are safe, I don't care." to save her family, this woman will burn the world.

Not only is she a Spatial mage, one of the rarest types of magic there is, she is a Roulacase and has the family ability of walking/portaling through most wards like they aren't there (this power comes with the price of never being able to use offensive Spatial magic). If she has been somewhere before, there is absolutely nothing anyone can do to stop her from returning there. This shows itself in her personality; she's cocky and her confidence borders on arrogance. She's impatient and finds listening to other people's personal problems tedious if they aren't part of her circle.

Fiona's main spell is her portal spell; Spatial Magic: Seraphim's Gate

Tondra Sturm is, in a word, ruthless. She is Fiona's best friend/girlfriend (depending on the story). I've done a Tondra character study here

She is based on the Evil Scientist/Chessmaster/smartest person in the room archetype, generally five steps ahead of everyone else and she knows it. She often forgets that people are, in fact, people and not just numbers/figures on a board because sometimes the fastest way from Point A to Point B is to just kill everyone in your way (this is generally the point where Julius steps in to stop her from committing mass murder).

She has weg from messing around with forbidden magic "just in case we need it." This woman's backup backup plans have backup plans. She's also the sort of person to put lightning booby traps after water booby traps so if you don't down you get electrocuted.

Tondra has trouble understanding other people and things like emotions. She can come off as cold and even heartless to people outside her circle but does try to listen to the advice of her friends.

Tondra's main spells are Lighting Creation Magic: Thurderer's Spear and Lightning Creation Magic: Lightning Wheel which create a spear and a shield respectively.

Lana Vaude is the least developed of my main ocs, but I love her all the same. She's Finral and Langris' little sister, a Silver Eagle and has a rival in Solid Silva (she has punched him in the face so many times). I've done a Lana character study here.

Lana Vaude as a character is fueled by spite. She's not good enough for her father, her magic is completely the wrong type for him to bother with her, and she's second in her mother's attention after Langris. Finral is definiately her favourite brother, but she and Langris are closer than it might originally appear as Lana wasn't foced into the same competition the boys were and Liliane didn't want either of her children interacting with Finral any more than necessary.

She spends a lot of her time in the Silver Eagles outpost on Raque beach because every time she is in the same room as Solid Silva, they get into a fight and Solid always loses despite A) having the attribute advantage and B) being a year older than Lana and Nozel is tired of listening to his little brother whine.

Lana's main spell is Fire Magic: Starburst which creates lots of tiny fireballs that go flying in every direction

Last, but definitely not least, we have my most recent OC; Lia Bardsley. She started out as a DnD OC (you can find her in @/thoughtfullyrainynightmare's incorrect DnD quotes) who bullied her way into the main story for my Everybody Lives au and expanded from there. I've done a Lia character study here.

Lia is, in a word, chaos. Almost constantly chattering at a speed of five hundred words a minute, this woman cannot sit still and will talk to anyone who so much as stands next to her for five seconds. She has a gift for getting people to tell her their life stories without her giving them a single bit of information about herself; this is very useful in her job as her job is literally to talk to people and catch the problems before they can become problems. This doesn't earn the Green Preying Mantises any stars, but it does mean that the area of Clover they oversee has the least issues out of anywhere in the country.

She's a prankster by nature and her favourite victim will always be Jack, even though he nearly always throws her out a window for her pranks when he's not involved in planning them (the one time he didn't throw her out the window, he threw her off the roof). That being said, Lia has about as much respect for Jack as Yami has for Julius, even if she doesn't always show it. If he tells her to do (or not do) something, then she listens.

Lia's main spell is Air Magic: Chrysalis which creates a platform or barriar made out of air in any shape she choses. She regularly uses this in her day to day life to hover in the air so she's at Jack's eye level when they're talking.

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

so i keep referencing the What Broke Delirium essay i plan to write but never actually writing it, so let's dig into that one!

because. sandman does not spoonfeed information. neil gaiman even said this in regards to the tv show, most shows are written these days under the assumption that audiences aren't really paying attention and need things spelled out for them - but sandman is not one of those shows. you gotta notice everything to get the full story

which honestly i love in many ways because it's part of why i'm never gonna run out of sandman essays to write - every time i reread the comics or rewatch the show i catch something new

and this is one of the first hidden bits of info i caught - remember this spread from overture?

it's a fucking gorgeous page and one of my favourite in the entire sandman run, both for the pretty art and the content itself (i love delirium SO much)

but let's just zoom in on the center of those flowers for a sec

because there's tiny tiny text written inside them

(for anyone who can't parse that, the first says "delight was sad", the second says "delight went mad")

now i've mentioned in many of my posts before that the endless all struggle to experience their own aspect, they are that thing, it exists for the most part out of their reach, and that causes problems for all of them

but i usually leave delirium out of these explanations

and that's because, for whatever reason, delirium is the opposite. and delight was too. i don't know what it is that makes her different, but while her older siblings all seem to be barred from their own domain by nature (or have to go to great lengths to experience it), del is too much of it. she's utterly absorbed by it. and while i think she's learned over the centuries how to be a bit more flexible (she understands the coins have two sides thing better than any of them, and can be lucid when she needs to), she didn't start out that way

we don't know what it is exactly that broke her. but we know why.

she had spent all of her life as the personification of happiness and joy, and someone who embodied those emotions. she appeared most as a little kid as delight, because kids definitely find it a lot easier to stay in that perpetually excited, happy mindset

but nothing stays that way forever. and this is where she is like her siblings, and why she's so familiar with the coin metaphor - when you're missing a fundamental piece of being human (either by being barred from your aspect or by being absorbed by it), that's not sustainable. it will tear you apart. dream refuses to accept that this is the case, and that breaks him. desire is equally stubborn about it, and they've outright admitted (in narration) that they're hanging on by a fucking thread

but death figured it out, when she realised she couldn't fulfill her function properly without learning what it was like to live. destruction figured it out when he ran away to go create. and delirium figured it out the hard way, because as soon as the world got a little too big for her singular aspect to make sense, it shattered

and it shattered slowly

there may have been some form of inciting incident, but she didn't become delirium overnight. i think a lot about her describing it as "growing up, or at least growing older", because that's both a very mature way to look at it and also an extremely tragic way to look at it, the idea that she knows too much, is never going to see the world the same way again, and that means delight is never coming back

(and that realisation is when she stopped presenting as a child and started presenting as a teenager)

and i think for a while, early days of being delirium, not delight, she didn't know what to do with that. delight broke into scattered pieces and the more fell away the harder it became to connect them

but she's also the only one of her siblings who's picked herself up from that. and it's why she's the wisest of them. because from there she learned

okay, so her innocence is gone. so delight isn't coming back. but there's still parts of her around, if delirium ever needs them. and the more she observes about the world, the more she experiences, the more different pieces she gets to add to the puzzle. they don't fit together, but that's del's real strength - they're not supposed to. she could have tried to reassemble herself piece by piece, like gluing together a broken statue, but why would she do that? then she'd be exactly as breakable as before, if not more so

instead she's more of a floating amalgamation of pieces, or rather, she's the ties between them. and because there's no set puzzle, she can put those pieces together in any order. she's no longer susceptible to the same problems as her siblings, because she's not missing anything anymore. she didn't lose parts of herself when becoming delirium, she gained some

and yes, no one is entirely without flaw - her downside is she's still susceptible to strong emotion, and when that overwhelms her mind she stops being any kind of person, we just see that floating amalgamation, until she can calm down. but that's the worst of it. her siblings may see her as broken, but she's more whole than she ever was as delight. and she's never going to break again