#before trying to rehabilitate one of the ones threatening it

[firebirdsdaughter]

Wow…

… Nahida-villainisers will really just. Completely abandon all media comprehension to justify their nonsense, huh.

[whirlybirbs]

— BRUISED EGO ; PART ONE ; TOSHINORI YAGI ; 俊典

summary: you & toshinori have a great working relationship. all might is like a mentor. a great guy. a real, stand-up dude. a hero who inevitably has to help you deal with the side-effects of being hit with a love quirk. pairing: younger!toshinori yagi / f!reader ; hero name: derecho word count: 3.6k of pure smut tags: afab!reader, fingering, oral (female receiving), piv, denying feelings, toshi being a genuine lover-boy, someone has a praise kink, surprise it's me, minors dni a/n: i love young dumb full of cum late-twenties all might the tag | next →

"You don't look well—"

"Don't."

You could fry him right now. You could totally, absolutely, blast him with ten thousand volts and call it a night — but you can't, really, because he's fucking All Might. He's All Might and even worse, he's Toshinori Yagi. 

He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.

(That is not true. You know it. You and your therapist have worked through that stuck point — but, it sounds a hell of a lot better than explaining the reason you ended up in prison was by your own actions, not being caught by All Might.)

You're reformed.

Blah, blah, blah, you're the Villain Rehabilitation Program's star graduate. 

They loved using your imagery — the ones of you before you got clean off those Quirk enhancers and put on the straight and narrow —in their PR packages. They love that picture of you — the ones with hands behind your back — cuffed by All Might as you're effectively muzzled by the local law enforcement.

Your lip catches in a snarl.

Don't think about that. 

Don't think about his hands on your wrists. Don't think about the way his boot nudged your leg apart for the frisk — don't think about the way he threatened you, so low and so dangerous, not to move. 

Don't think about how All Might is a bastard, and the media just doesn't know it. 

He's cheeky. Sly. When he's out of the limelight, that eerie #1 smile drops and he's almost normal — if not nearly five hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.  

Like now, on this rooftop, he's more like Toshinori Yagi. Your impromptu mentor in all things heroic. After all, the Hero Commission thought it would be great for the program's image if All Might, the man who arrested you countless times, was the one to integrate you into a more heroic notion. Never mind the dozens of times you went head-to-head with the man, never mind the handful of times you almost won. 

"Derecho, I'm serious," comes his voice; it's softer, almost like he's in his smaller form — the one you always find yourself being partial to, "You look feverish..."

Static snaps across the air and Toshinori takes it — the way it bites at the skin of his hands is nothing. It's a warning shot. Don't come any closer. 

"I was hit with that guy's quirk," you mutter as you try to square your breathing, "I'm fine, I just... Need some time—"

Son of a bitch. 

You've always been a hard one to shake — and even now, as you climb well into the Top Ten ranks, he's never seen you this out of it. You've taken a crowbar to the ribs and recovered better than being hit by some petty criminal's love quirk. 

Toshinori curses under his breath as he winces at the desperation cracking in your voice. 

"If you need to take the night—"

"Yes."

He was slotted to patrol this prefecture with you for another two hours — but seeing the way your whole body looks like it could collapse is... a bit concerning. Toshinori nods, exhales, and waves you on.

"Should I call Recovery Girl?"

Your boot toes the ledge. You need out of this outfit. It's too tight. You're too hot. Your skin feels like it's on fire and the embarrassing ache between your legs is just getting worse with every low, timbred syllable out of his mouth. Don't think about his mouth. 

"I'm fine." 

You're not fine.

Even when you're back in your apartment, trying desperately to shower off the skin-crawling, mouth-watering heat of desire, you can't even come close to relating to the word 'fine'. You're a mess. You try to stand under the heat of the water for a while, to burn the need off your skin, but that doesn't work. 

You're so not fine. 

You can't stop thinking about Toshinori. Must be something to do with the fact he was closest when you were struck with the quirk. Yea. Totally that.

You have to be fine. You need to be fine. This is just a stupid love quirk that will wear off within a few hours. 

Well, a few hours come and go, and it's just getting worse. 

Come on, you are torturing yourself with the evening news, just breathe it out. 

Because you're a hero, and you were a villain. You know what it's like to get hit with disconcerting quirks like this in the heat of a battle. With just a little time, it goes away. Right? 

Right...?

"I AM CALLING! I AM CALLING!" 

Your phone vibrates on the coffee table. Your pupils, full-blown and big, swivel to the photo that ignites the dark of the room. It's a photo of Toshinori — he's in his smaller form, posed beside you in a ramen booth close to U.A.'s campus. He was hellbent on giving you a tour of his old high school.

You always loved how cute he looked in that picture.

Fuck.

You snatch the phone up and answer the call.

"What?" it comes out snappier than it needs to be. 

"Are you doin' alright?" his voice has lost its persona'd gusto. You can tell, just by the soft way he speaks, he's no longer in uniform or on patrol. All Might has clocked out for the evening, and Toshinori Yagi is in the building, "I haven't heard a peep from you all night, zippy." 

Something in your brain goes blank at the nickname. You usually hate it. Usually, you'd bite at him for it. You don't even realize you're white knuckle gripping the edge of the couch as he continues to speak. 

"Y'know, it's okay — I've been hit by love quirks plenty of times before," he goes on; you can hear him juggle the phone to his other ear, "They aren't fun. I'm sorry you're—"

"Come over."

Toshinori almost drops the can of soda in his hands. In the middle of the convenience store aisle, he feels his entire body lurch. 

"What?"

Your head is back against the couch, your hands covering your face in sheer embarrassment. You grit it out again. "I said come over."

"Derecho—"

"I've tried everything," you mutter defeatedly into the phone; you can't even pull your hand from your face, you're so embarrassed you're even telling him this but you need help, "Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi on the highest speed, Toshinori, and I can't—"

Jesus fucking Christ. 

This is bad.

This is... not you. So not you. This is... fuck, okay, right. He's All Might. He helps people. And you're important to him. You're his enemy turned pseudo-protégé turned colleague turned woman-he's-been-ignoring-his-feelings-for-the-last-seven-months. You're Derecho. Number Eight Hero in Japan, his friend. His...

"Give me ten."

And he hangs up.

Two boxes of XL condoms earn him a severely skeptical look from the cashier, but it's fine. Toshinori has bigger things to worry about — like the fact he has no idea what this is going to do to your working relationship, but it's fine. You need help. He knows what this is like — and he would feel awful if he left you to deal with it alone. 

Fingers, toys, even the Hitachi— 

Maybe he'll die, actually. Maybe he'll just throw himself from the nearest roof. 

The mental image of you, alone in your apartment, hands between your thighs as you try desperately to shake the painful ache in your core has him walking a bit faster — your apartment is three blocks over. 

He makes good time.

His knuckles don't even touch the door before you're yanking it open — and Christ, you're a sight to see.

Wet hair, wild eyes, and a permanent heavy breath. The oversized t-shirt clinging to your shoulders is definitely going to be a topic of discussion for a later date. It's All Might merch. His fucking merch. 

When did you even buy that—?

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, looking pained. 

Toshinori's eyes hold your own. Then:

"I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress."

He's a bastard. A serious bastard. A bastard who you're dragging in by the neck of his t-shirt — a bastard who doesn't complain in the slightest when your mouth is on his in a flash. With ease, he slams the front door shut with his boot and quickly allows you to guide him through your apartment. Your mouth is still latched to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as his hands chase your waist. 

You recognize in the heated haze of the kiss there's a grocery bag in his hand. It knocks against your hip as you accidentally back into the edge of the couch — your hands fumbling for some purchase in the dark living room. 

You pull your mouth from his just long enough to breathe out another apology. 

"Don't. We'll talk about it after," he says, leaning down over you as you scramble back against the leather couch cushions, "What do you need?"

"What do you think?" you hiss as his body presses against yours; he's still in his boots, still in his shirt and jeans. He's... too clothed. Your body couldn't handle anything except the less-than-flattering pair of cotton underwear and the biggest t-shirt you owned. 

You swear he's smirking in the dark. 

"Mouth? Hands?" he presses, his touch cradling your face as he continues to navigate your steady, bruisingly needy kisses, "Use your words."

"Anything—"

Your voice is a rasp, your hands scaling his back as he nudges your knees apart with his thigh and slots his hips against yours. Even in this smaller form, he's got the tactical advantage — not being near death from a fever so high you can hardly think anymore. 

"I need to know," he says as he leans back, his voice dipping lower as his palms brush the skin of your stomach. His fingertips hesitate at the edge of your waistband, and you whine. 

"Anything, Toshinori, stop jerking me around!" 

...What a brat. He almost laughs. But, then he remembers the one time he was left like this — and how desperate he was even after six hours of exhaustive attempts at self-pleasure. 

"Be nice," he chirps as his fingers slip beneath your underwear; his satisfaction builds when you fist the back of his shirt and gasp — his fingers grace the slick, wet folds of your core with ease. It's a tender movement, one that assesses just how pliable you are at this moment. 

And then, two of his fingers are pushing into you down to his knuckles. 

The babbled thank you bursts from your chest — and Toshi actually laughs at how fast you cling to his chest. He didn't anticipate his night going like this. Not with you, wild-eyed and desperate, pulling him into a kiss that's so bruising he thinks his lip splits.

Hands. Hands. Hands. His hands. One hand is between your folds, working you open, and the other is pressing up your curves and settling along your breast. You can't even think straight. The fact Toshinori is so slick, so eager, so good at whatever he's doing, is making the coil in your abdomen go white hot. 

"Fuck—" you strangle out, your lips parted in a gasp as he wets his own lips and watches your face in the dark, "G-God, okay, th-that's good—"

"Better than your own?" he asks, genuinely worried this isn't the progress you need to shake off the quirk's effects. 

"So much better," you wail, coincidentally fueling his ego in a way he never knew he needed. Because, ha, well — who knew Derecho, little miss spiteful and mysterious, just needed a little bit of him. 

"Is it enough?" he asks against her jaw, his forearm flexing as he works the pace up, his palm rubbing gently against your clit. It's an attempt at a coordinated pace, and it seems to be working from the way you're writhing beneath him. 

"I... I still — I can't — I'm so..." you look like you could cry out of sheer frustration, and Toshi suddenly feels a pang of guilt. He can only imagine how you've done this very thing over and over tonight, trying to just cum. Your voice cracks and you whimper, "I can't. I'm so close, but I just can't—"

"Okay," he breathes, his mind swirling with strategic planning, "So mouth."

"Mouth?" you choke, suddenly looking alarmed, but Toshi doesn't seem to care about the added snare of intimacy that comes with him slipping to his knees before the couch. 

Oh my god, he's on his knees. He's on his knees and he's grappling with your underwear, hauling it down the tops of your thighs before throwing it over his shoulder in a very Toshinori manner. 

You've got All Might on his knees. 

It suddenly hits you as he sits up on his knees and nudges your legs apart. He's a man on a mission — dedicated entirely to the task at hand. 

Making you orgasm. 

You wonder how many people have fantasized about this very thing — granted, he's not costume. Thank god. You can't even imagine what the conversation with his dry-cleaning team would look like. 

Toshi's voice knocks you back to reality. "Is this okay?"

He sounds concerned.

Meanwhile, you could kill him. If he doesn't put his mouth on you right now—

Noted. He sees the spark of annoyance, dumb question, and hauls your leg over his shoulder as he delves in. 

Ohmygod.

This is better — the coil is wound tighter, and a little bit closer to snapping, the second his tongue presses flat against your glistening slick. It's even better when he hums, his voice mumbles against your sex as his hands press your thighs to open a bit farther. 

"Keep 'em open."

"Don't talk," you heave between pants, "With your mouth full."

It's like the two of you are at work — this banter. But, his laugh vibrates your core and you moan. That doesn't happen at work. That doesn't happen, ever. A greedy part of you sure as hell hopes this happens again, because holy hell, he's good at this. Methodical. Strategic. Thorough.

His pace doesn't change, the pressure doesn't lessen. The blonde streaks of his fringe tickle the inside of your thighs as he continues his work — and you swear you almost cum when he slips a look up at you in the dark. 

His eyes are so blue that you feel like you're suddenly lost at sea. 

Then, there are two crooked fingers back inside of you. 

You and he are going to have to have a long talk about where he learned all this — because it's so good you genuinely can't do anything but reach out and grip his hair in a panic. You gasp, your whole body convulses, and you almost... almost cum. Almost.

It's Toshi's turn to moan. 

You're suddenly so oversensitive you swear your heart might stop. 

You're writhing away from him, squirming away, and Toshi's lips are parted as his breath fans across your core. 

"Cock," you're suddenly rambling, "N-Need — I need—"

"Right," he stutters, realizing this is good — you're almost there, he can tell. You're so close he can feel it in the air. The static electricity burning off your quirk leaves the room feeling tingly. 

He's wobbling back upright, cursing as he practically falls around the couch in the dark, and palms at the grocery bag he discarded on the floor. He's not graceful about the way he tears about the small box, or about the way he drops the foil square between his teeth as he leans back to work off his belt. 

"Bedroom?" he asks through gritted teeth.

You're nodding, practically falling over yourself to lead the way. Boots, jeans, belt, shirt — all of it is left scattered along the way, and your bare body hits the sheets after an easy shove from Toshinori. Of course, the boxers clinging to his strong thighs are his brand. The All Might logo is almost comical stretched across his hardness. 

You have the wherewithal to roll your eyes as he tears open the condom with his teeth. 

"What?" he shirks, looking down.

"Seriously?" you grit, legs pressed together tightly to try and stop the empty ache between your legs. It hurts. It hurts so much worse when his mouth and hands aren't on you.

"Don't even start," he rumbles as he rolls down the waistband and his cock springs free — he's quick to roll the condom down the thick length of it and lift a finger to wag in your face, "You answered the door in my merch—" 

"Setting the mood," you offer as he steps out of his underwear.

Toshinori then, unceremoniously, drags your hips to the edge of the bed. You almost shriek. It's a bit rough — a bit sudden — but you can't complain when the head of his cock is suddenly being guided through your folds teasingly. Up and down. Over the swollen bud of your clit, across your wet opening. You prop yourself up on your elbows, lips parted, as you try and nudge your hips closer. 

His large hand presses your hips down to the mattress. 

"Toshinori—"

"You sure this is okay?" he mutters, his pupils full-blown as he watches himself slip through your wetness, "I— If it's too much—"

"If you don't fuck me right now—"

"Right."

And he sinks in.

Ha. 

Yea. 

This is good.

You're so glad you didn't fry him earlier. You're so glad. You're so... oh, this is so so so ridiculously good you might die. You might die, because he's snapping his hips into yours and you can see the ripple of his muscles, even in this smaller form. 

His breath is ragged, his voice low and easy.

"You're doing a great job," he says; your core tightens at the sudden praise, "Y-You're doin' really... good—"

Your chest bounces with each thrust, your legs locked around his hips, your whimpers increasing in frequency with every single in and out of his cock. The feeling is better than any sex you've ever had — you've never been so aware of every inch. 

And then, he's knocking his forehead against yours, leaning over you — you're caged against the mattress, and one arm of his is holding your leg up around his waist. The angle change is minute but it's good. Everything is Toshinori so suddenly, everything is so blue eyes and a bright smile. 

It's thorough, a word you're slowly beginning to realize describes Toshinori to a T. There's not a single falter in his pace, not a single thrust that doesn't wind the white-hot orgasm tighter and tighter in your belly. It's worse when he holds your face, though, worse when he keeps fucking you so well while chattering on about how good you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are—

Your composure snaps when he rumbles out:

"I know you can cum for me like a good girl."

The coil snaps.

Finally. 

After four hours of torture. After four hours of trying. Finally, you cum — and hard. The sort that robs you of your vision and hearing, the sort that has your whole body arching off the bed. The kind you haven't had in a long time. The kind that, of course, Toshinori Yagi would be the man to provide. 

"Fuckfuckfuck—" you babble, gasping, still gripped by the force of the orgasm as his pace quickens.

He's laughing — laughing, and then you're clamping down on him so hard he sees stars. It's all fun and games until he can't stop himself, he can't slow down, he can't breathe, and he's rocked by an orgasm that makes his knees give out. He's wild-eyed, panting, snapping his hips into yours as you whimper and gasp and grip his shoulders so tight he may have bruises. 

Toshinori swallows, then gasps to catch his breath, and then pushes himself up to give you a little room to breathe. His cock is still twitching inside of you.

Your eyes are closed, and your breath is fast. Your hair is spilled across the sheet — and you look content. Satiated. Peaceful. He's rarely ever seen you so tranquil. 

Blindly, and lazily, you reach up to touch his cheek.

At first, he thinks it's going to be tender. Intimate. Romantic.

Then, you roughly pat it twice.

"We're never gonna talk about this again."

Right. 

Because he's All Might. And you're Derecho. You're colleagues. Friends. This was just... him helping you. Like when a friend has a cold. You bring them soup. He... brought you... an orgasm. Just like soup.

Definitely.

...Right. 

"It was just, uh," he breathes, pulling out and cursing at the embarrassingly apparent load in the condom; not like he'd dreamed about this very thing for nights on end, no siree bob, "You needed help. I offered."

That is not what happened. Not even close. But, he's going to tell himself that.

Not like you totally won't think about this every single night ever for the rest of time. Definitely like you won't dream about the way he called you a good girl. Ha. Yea, right. Psh. You're fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

After all, it's just Toshinori.

He's... kind. And gentle. And patient. And levelheaded... If not the single reason your entire life fell apart seven years ago.

And definitely not the reason your life is falling apart right now as you realize, fuck, you're definitely in love with him, aren't you?

Naaah.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 10)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10

Part 10:

Your head felt like it was splitting, you could feel your brain pounding against the outside of your skull.

"Ah shit... everything fucking hurts...." you can barely whisper out loud due to your dried-up throat.

You clear your throat and open your eyes, to your surprise, you weren't left for dead on the street.

Instead, you see two girls hovering over you. One held your hand clasped in theirs, and the other had a spear pointed at your throat.

"Oh my gosh, you're awake! Finally!" The girl holding your hand said, leaning closer to your face. The girl with the spear and an 'X' over one of her eyes squinted at you and nudged the blonde girl back with her spear, "Who are you, and why shouldn't I kill you?"

You try to sit up, but the spear gets shoved closer to your throat before you can move. You sigh, "My name is (y/n). I don't want to hurt anyone. I just... I need help..."

Your answer earns a glare from the girl with the spear, but the blonde girl just nudges her with her elbow, "See, Vaggie? I told you!"

The blonde takes both of your hands in hers, "Hi (y/n), I'm Charlie! Charlie Morningstar and you're at the Hazbin Hotel! We aim to help rehabilitate sinners and offer them a chance at redemption to go to Heaven!"

The girl you now know whose name is Vaggie glares at you, "Are you even interested in redemption?"

You look at both of the girls, "I... I don't know. I'm not so sure but... I don't have anywhere to go and I need help finding someone.." You trail off as you start getting teary-eyed thinking about your love, Alastor.

Seeing you near tears clearly startled Chalie and Vaggie, it wasn't a response they were used to when asking sinners to stay at the hotel.

Vaggie set down the spear, deciding that you clearly weren't a threat. She could see the look in your eyes, one she knew very well- love. Meanwhile, Charlie is sniffling and getting teary-eyed right along with you, "Oh my gosh, we will do everything we can to help you find that person! Who are they, how can we help?"

You look up at the ceiling and then look at Charlie with a weak smile, "The love of my life... I miss him so dearly... I know he has to be here in Hell too." You chuckle lovingly, knowing he'd forgive you if he ever found out you said that out loud.

The floodgates were blown wide open and Charlie started sobbing and wailing, "Vaggieeeee, VAAAGGIEEEEEEE, th-they! They're looking for their LOOOOVEEEEEEEE. IT'S SO BEAUTIFULLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!"

Vaggie walked over to Charlie and scooped her up, giving you a gentle smile, "Hey... (y/n), sorry about threatening you earlier... I gotta take Miss Princess and calm her down, and then inform the other residents of a new arrival. But if you need anything, just give us a holler, okay? You're still healing so... take it easy."

You nod as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, "It's okay... No offense taken... Thank you Vaggie, and thank you Charlie, for agreeing to help me.."

All you hear as Charlie is carried away is the sounds of wailing and crying muffled sounds over the words, "SHE'S HERE FOR LOVE... WAAAHHHHHH, IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL VAGGIEEE!!!!"

You try to sit up again, this time, no spear to bar you from trying to move this time. Your body groans in protest, though it doesn't hurt nearly as much as before, but as you assess the condition of your body, you notice you have bandages all over you. They must have been treating you while you were unconscious.

"Such sweet girls... they didn't even know me, yet they saved my life.... I need to remember to thank them again later.."

Very slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and with a bit of effort, bring yourself to your feet. Hands holding yourself against the wall, you make your way over to what you assumed would become your bathroom during your stay here.

Your hands grip the sink as you look in the mirror when a small doubt enters your brain. You didn't look completely the same as you did when you were alive, which meant you had no idea if Alastor was even going to recognize you. Perhaps he even forgot about you... since it's been so many decades since you've been in Hell. Hell, you weren't sure you were even going to be able to recognize him...

"Enough of this... I'm sure he'll remember me.. he has to..." you whisper to yourself in the mirror as a crooked but tear-stained smile graces your hell-altered face.

After washing up your reddened face from all the tears, you made your way back to your bed. A deep sigh left your body as you plopped down gently on the bed.

Though you can't help but feel restless, as you sit there, just thoughts consuming your head.

In as bad of a shape as you might be, walking around even just a little bit helped you regain a little bit of strength, so you decided to make yourself decent after you had discovered that there was a change of clean clothes for you in dresser in the corner of the room.

Looking at yourself in the full body mirror on the back of the bathroom door, you smiled because it felt good to not look like a hot garbage fire- even though you could still see most of the bandages, at least you weren't all tattered and visibly bloody anymore!

Another deep sigh left your lips yet again, though this one was filled with determination. You turn the handle on the door and exit your room.

In your head, you thanked whoever built this hotel because you were so thankful that there were railings or some type of furnishing to hold onto whenever you felt yourself getting wobbly.

You didn't know where Charlie or Vaggie, or where any of the staff or other residents could be, hell, you didn't even know where the lobby was!

But on that last note, as you wandered around and regained some strength in your legs, you started to have an idea of where the lobby was located because you started to see more light and heard some voices talking.

Might as well go introduce yourself, right? No time better than the present to start making introductions, even if you still felt a little bit like shit still. You felt even shittier just laying around, you felt like if you weren't on the go constantly- you'd never make any headway on finding Alastor.

So there you were, slowly descending the stairs to the lobby when you heard Charlie call out your name, " (y/n)! Oh my gosh, you shouldn't even be up right now! Are you feeling okay??"

A weak smile creeps up on your face as you start to feel embarrassed that Charlie is fawning all over you in front of what seems to be her friends.

You chuckle, "Yeah, haha, just feeling kinda restless and thought i'd introduce myself is all!"

Charlie gently takes your hand and pulls you over to the rest of the group that had been chatting while seated on various sofas and armchairs that were centered around a coffee table- no TV's in sight, just a single radio perched on top of the mantle in this living room/lobby hybrid space.

"Guys! I am honored to introduce you to the newest guest to the Hazbin Hotel, this is (y/n)!!"

"Nice to meet cha, the name's Husk, the bartender."

"Hey there toots, bet ya look mighty fine underneath those bandages. Better not give me a run for my money as most gorgeous resident! Oh yeah, the name's Angel Dust, by the way."

"Hi, i'm Nifty! Nice to- BLEGH, you're a woman! Ew!" Nifty said before cackling as she scuttled away to stab some bugs nearby.

"Well, you already know me and Charlie," Vaggie said as she patted you on the shoulder gently.

"It looks like the only one who isn't here is Alastor. Shouldn't he be back soon?" Charlie said as she pulled out her phone to check the time.

To her, that seemed like such a mundane and normal sentence. But to you, it felt like time stopped and you froze upon hearing his name.

Alastor.

Alastor... here?

-> Part 11

[kelppsstuff]

Time of year

Summary: Alastor trying to impress you with mating season just starting

ALASTOR X F!READER

Masterlist

Warnings: nswf, biting, wax play, tied up, begging

Taglist: @fandomsbookclub @leathesimp @michelleszn @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @sirenetheblogger @jawline-of-steel

Alastor is a gentleman. Always had been, always will be. His mother had raised him to be one.

Every year Alastor would feel a change in the air — mating season — and every year he never indulged himself. Alastor had no interest in being with someone, why would he give them false hope?

This year things were different. This year he was living in a hotel for sinners to be rehabilitated. This year he’s back in hell after seven years of being gone. This year he met you.

Despite these differences he expected one thing to stay the same, mating season. He expected everything to remain normal this time of year, and at first he didn’t notice the slight changes.

It first started when he’d grow annoyed at people getting way to close to you.

—

Alastor walked out into the main room of this hotel. A normal thing for him.

He looked over and saw you at the bar, laughing with Husk. Alastor’s ear twitched with annoyance along with his eye. This wasn’t Tom and Jerry, Husker was not that funny of a cat.

Husker looked over your shoulder and noticed his soul owner giving him a threatening glare. Odd.

Alastor made his way over to the bar and placed a hand on your shoulder — which startled you since he hated another persons touch — he spoke with a grin that husk knew was him being pissy.

“Pardon the intrusion however I was going to ask if you would care to join me on a stroll.”

A simple ask that you agreed too, and you had thought the walk went swimmingly. However Alastor’s mood had just worsened.

He spent the whole walk just fending off creepy looks others would give you. He even sent his shadow away go torture a few.

—

You were walking down the stairs to angel — who stood by the door — putting on the back of your right dangling earring when Alastor saw you.

He spat out his coffee and began to choke on his own spit, you were absolutely gorgeous. You wore a small dark Maroon dress, that made him feel feral. That was his color.

He hurried to you before you and the spider could leave. “Darling! Where are you off too looking so charming?”

His words drew heat to your cheeks and you blessed him with a smile that made him feel like he was going to die in the best way possible. “Angel and I are heading out to that new club called consent.” Alastor’s mind went through simple math.

A club, that had people. People liked good-looking people. You looked divine. People would try and get with you. When hell freezes over.

“Perhaps I should accompany the two of you.”

“No need, I know it’s not your scene.”

You waved him goodbye and walked out. Alastor silently returned to his room. Where he very reasonably smashed every piece of furniture. All reasonable of course.

Alastor had just told himself he couldn’t let his guests of the hotel go out and fuck up there hard work. Let’s be honest though, he didn’t give to shits what angel was up too. He was staring at you.

He noticed a guy, about to walk up to you so he was quick. Grabbed your arm and twirled you into his chest.

You looked up in confusion and when you saw Alastor you voice was mixed with concern. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned down and whispered, “isn’t it obvious? I’m here to dance. I will say we could use better music.” He nipped at your ear with his sharp teeth — drawing blood that would no doubt leave a scratch later — and jazzy music started to play.

You giggled as you twirled you again. Your feet started to move faster in pace with his own.

Alastor picked you up and twirled you in the air. You felt almost alive again at the feeling. Alastor caught you and when you looked at him like he was the only person in the world, Alastor knew this was right. You were right.

—

The two of you continued to dance all night, and surprisingly everyone had got down with the fast pace jazz playing, not an ounce of complaining. 

Another thing that happened that night was people took photos of you and Alastor. Most had him glitched out but there was one, once that wasn’t.

It had been when he dipped you and you clanged to him in fear of falling. Alastor had a teasing grin and that photo had spread everywhere online.

Typically Alastor hated people being in his business, but he wouldn’t lie he loved the claim it gave you.

At first Alastor felt annoyed at the photo, but when he was walking around cannibal town he overheard two chaps talking about “the radios demon girl.”

He liked that name, he didn’t acknowledge the thought that popped in his mind after that.

‘I’d prefer Radio Demon wife.’

—

Nope this year mating season was normal. Right? Sure he felt a tad bit more possessive but it was normal. Wasn’t it?

—

When mating season came around Alastor never once indulged in the desire for a release. Hated the thought of even doing it.

Though when it became so unbearable that it caused him so much pain he decided once couldn’t be bad.

However it was the image of you in his mind that made him cum all over his hand.

That’s when he knew, this year was different.

—

He was scared at first but soon the need for you overcame that fear. He was the radio demon, he could do anything. So what if he experienced a little change? I mean have you seen you?

That’s when Alastor decided to pull the old charmer he once was when he was kicking in in the living world.

Alastor’s wouldn’t lie, he knew how to charm a lady, he’s had experience. Sure he hasn’t done any of that since he stepped into hell but he sure it couldn’t be that hard.

—

Alastor took a seat next to you at the vacant bar. He tapped his fingers as decided to open his mouth. And pure stupid slipped past it.

“So did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

Alastor swears he saw a legit loading screen over your head. For the first time since ever Alastor was nervous.

“I think you have me confused with Lucifer.”

Rage bubbled into his skin at the sound of you saying someone else’s name. But nervousness washed that down.

Alastor made a terrible excuse and teleported away. “There’s always next time!” Sureeee.

—

Alastor was looking for you — something he had been doing often — only to find you in the kitchen with Nifty.

You smiled down and here and took a sip of the soup she gave you. “Absolutely lovely. You should go and give a bowl to Husk.” Nifty nodded excitedly and hurried off past Alastor.

You laughed a little and spoke to Alastor when you were sure Nifty was gone. “That was so salty oh my gosh.”

Alastor spoke before he could register you words even. “You wanna see if I’m salty?”

“What?”

“What?”

You two just stood there staring at one another for a good 10 seconds. Just processing. By the time your brain caught onto what he was saying he was already giving a stupid excuse to leave and rush to his room.

—

Now you had noticed Alastor trying to flirt. You noticed his little acts of service, and you noticed his jealous tendencies.

It was honestly funny on how Alastor would try to impress you. Alastor felt as if you weren’t interested in him. Let’s say that put quite the downer on his mood.

Alastor sat at the bar, drinking some whiskey when you walked past him. “Hey handsome.” He immediately perked up.

He became so needy for your attention and now that you were giving it to him? That made him want you more.

—

This was your first time in hell. Your first “mating season.” Most animalistic demons was around this time. So when you found Alastor knocking on your door in the middle of the night, good in hands, something in you went feral.

You invited him in to eat, he placed the food gently on your table. However Alastor felt like he needed to leave, or else he couldn’t control himself.

The smell of you all around? Not to mention he could practically taste your hormones on smell alone.

Alastor took a deep breath and started to excuse himself. “I should be off to bed now.”

He started to take steps to the door but you got in his way. Hand on his chest, eyes slightly begging yet demanding.

The two of you were quiet but the air was thick. It took you glancing one time at his lips for them to suddenly be on yours.

The kiss wasn’t soft, it was hard and rough. Like you was dehydrated and this was y’all’s first sip of water.

You pushed your hands into his hair while he tapped your legs. Understanding the silent command you jumped onto him, letting him pin you against the nearest wall.

You nipped his lower lip, drawing blood. The metallic taste mixed inside your mouth. It made Alastor even more painfully hard.

He let you stand and started to lead you two to the bed. Stripping you along the way as you did him.

By the time he pushed you into the mattress you only had your undergarments on while Alastor only had his pants.

The bed rocked slightly and hit the nightstand. “Careful Alastor the candle.”

Alastor’s gaze flickered over to the lit candle. He pushed you further up the bed and summoned some ropes. Effortlessly wrapping your hands to the headboard.

Alastor reached over to the candle and you whined out in anticipation. At first you were worried at the hot wax, but when Alastor tipped it slightly and the red mold dripped onto you skin you moan out in pleasure.

You hadn’t expected that to feel good but all you wanted was more. You had no doubt Alastor was a masochist but maybe you were one too.

“That’s a good girl.” His voice had a rasp that made you beg him for more.

“Please! Please Al.”

Alastor set aside the candle and started to kiss where the hot wax was starting to harden. He slightly snipped at your thighs causing you to beg him more.

“Please Alastor!”

“Please what?”

“Bite me.”

Bite you he did. Blood drew at the sharp bite he scattered across your thighs. Marking you his. He liked every drop of blood that would flow out the wound until it became to much. He couldn’t wait another second.

He discarded his pants and rubbed his top against your fold. Slightly grinding against your pussy.

“Please Alastor I need it.”

Fuck he needed it too but if he did this there would be no turning back. His afterlife would truly change forever.

But it already was changed, from the second he met you. So fuck it.

He thrusted up into you hard. While he would usually be a gentle dotting partner this time he just couldn’t wait.

He started the push himself all the way inside, not giving you a second to adjust. Blood dripped from your heat and Alastor grew to love the sight under him. You spread out blood, wax, his markings all over you.

He started to move quicker and quicker not giving you a second to adjust to his size. He fast a rough pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t even knew existed. Like you were some porn star.

Alastor sure as hell was fucking you like one.

You clanged to the radio demon, feeling your end about to wash through you.

“Alastor! Oh god I’m going to cum.” He gripped you chin and kissed you roughly. “You cum with only my name in your mouth.”

He pinch your clit and you came hard. Alastor’s name was the only thing you knew as you cried out to him in pleasure.

Alastor didn’t stop, he was selfishly chasing his own release, even if you were overstimulated.

You felt tears form in your eyes and you clenched around him, while he spilled himself inside of you.

When you both came down your high — panting — he slipped himself out and gave you a tender kiss.

He placed tender loving kisses on your thigh and face, slightly massaging your legs, while also making sure his cum stayed deep inside you.

—

The next morning was filled with the same Lust as the night before, however it was more gentle.

He explained he was like this because of mating season and why you were like this as well. The two of you came to an agreement that this sexual relationship would end when mating season did, even if both of you felt like dying while agreeing to it.

However when the air returned to normal you two relationship did not. You two continued your sinful acts. Like the two of you could never get enough of one another.

It wasn’t long till you confessed your feelings for Alastor, and him returning them.

Ahhhh! I’m trying new things out with my banner so if it’s a bit different in my upcoming post then that’s why.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

horse girl charlie morningstar, her partner in a cool hat and eye patch vaggie, and the Hazbin Horse Rehabilitation Ranch- where shit people are introduced to horses no one else wants and hopefully no one get trampled to death (niffty this means YOU)

other key features include

vaggie riding a small working horse and ppl keep calling it a pony and she keeps telling them It's Not A Fucking Pony

charlie and her beloved mule, who never listens to her

angel dust wanting to learn dressage bc it looks like "fancy sexy riding" and also he was banned from mentioning the words "bare back" or "bucking bronco"

husk constantly found drunk and asleep in his horse's stall while said horse nuzzles him

niffty obsessing over grooming all the horses down to their individual hairs, yes even the bad tempered horses, yes she likes it when they shmoosh her against a wall or step on her foot

alastor looking calm collected and in control on his horse as he wanders off from the group and never participates in activities bc his horse won't listen to him either and he's too proud to admit it

sir pentious keeps trying to make his horse look and preform the best using his own new designs for tack and gear and it always backfires but he's the go-to one if your saddle needs adjusting or fixing

his egg boiz are a flock of chickens

his horse keeps eating the chickens' eggs and he keeps crying over it, even when charlie tells him they wouldn't have hatched into chicks anyway

lucifer lives in a shack somewhere around here with his collection of customized my little pony brushible toys

the locals in the nearest town still talk about lilith's incredible horse whispering skills before she up and vanished

charlie gushes about these stories a LOT but laughs nervously if asked about her own way with horses

she tries.

her way of making sudden loud squees and eeeks and excited yells and wild energetic movements doesn't fit well with most of the horses

she also slips up and gets flaming mad at anything that threatens her family's ranch or anyone who mistreats a horse

angry charlie is Scary Charlie

her mule doesn't care tho it knows she's a pushover treat giver

when vaggie first figured out what was happening she spent weeks with her own horse slowly getting it used to all sorts of weird charlie-related things, including stealing charlie's jacket a few times to flap it wildly while chasing her horse around the paddock singing loud show tunes

vaggie's horse is the only one that'll let charlie ride it without being a nervous wreck

charlie maybe cried a little when she went for that first ride

vaggie has a shot gun

she spends a lot of time checking on things riding far out and alone and keeps the gun with her just in case

she's never actually threatened any of their human boarders with the shot gun but she does have an unnerving tendency to check and clean it whenever she's pissed and trying to keep some shred of her patience intact

every week there's at least one night set aside for an evening dance after dinner and yes chaggie was doing it long before any other ppl showed up

valentino showed up once and charlie chased him off the premises with vaggie's shotgun

the ranch used to have a television

now it has a radio tower

no one except alastor is happy about it but his radio commercial revenue is paying for most of this so they all keep mostly quiet about their grumbling and record voice lines for ads when he looms over them with a script

vaggie swears the time she shot out the radio tower's windows while arguing with alastor over her and charlie's voice lines was a complete accident

razzle and dazzle are ranch dogs who keep track of the horses when they're out grazing and both are COMPLETELY in tune with charlie, been with her since childhood, the three can basically read each others' minds and watching them all work together is like watching magic

(vaggie also knows how to work with them but has to use more obvious signals instead of just tiny changes in body language)

vaggie keeps trying to gently remind charlie there are events for dog handling she could enter in

but the ranch was lilith's passion and rehabilitating rejected horses her dream and charlie is not not giving up on that OR on the rejected people her mom always was so proud of and charlie is NOT letting herself think for one moment that her mom isn't coming home

speaking of coming home

chaggie met when charlie was out riding after a storm looking for a lost horse and found it staring curiously down at a half dead lady lying in a ditch with a freshly gouged out eye and burns on her back

the half dead lady claimed she shot out her own eye by accident and got hit by lightning

or maybe fell asleep on a campfire uhh

charlie was way too busy figuring out normal social interactions again and also how to patch up a pretty lady without being a complete fool about it to question vaggie's super realistic tale

vaggie was planning on staying just long enough to get on her feet again- especially after she started catching feelings watching charlie being sweet with all the stubborn horsies- and seeing how much charlie was struggling with the ranch without having someone else to look after

she was even gonna steal a horse on the way out

and got caught by charlie in the act

charlie just smiled sadly, told vaggie she was glad she wasn't heading off alone, told vaggie's horse to take care of her, and then went back to the daily chores

vaggie caught up with her an hour later

she'd had to properly put her horse away and get breakfast started first, for after they've finished up the morning stuff

they've been running the ranch together ever since

keekee the cat is the actual boss on the ranch and got her name from how doors always open for her (bc she bothers whoever's around until they drop what they're doing to obey her)

cherri bomb stops by once just to laugh at angel dust and ignore pentious but ends up being the only one who figures out why the new horse is spooking at everything- it's got hearing loss, and she's got it too from doing endless unlicensed fireworks shows, and she's totally just sticking around until the horse gets used to things here. totally

[sepublic]

Unlocking the Sad Backstory

I find it interesting how a lot of arcs in TOH have this general pattern of…

Character hurts others -> Character is unhappy, reconsiders their harm -> Character begins to do better -> Character’s sad backstory that re-contextualizes them is unlocked

And it applies even to characters that aren’t exactly villains or even antagonists, but for whom hurting someone nevertheless is a major premise! So to look at examples;

Amity is Willow and Luz’s bully, but we see how she’s unfairly manipulated by Lilith and is ashamed because of it. Luz reaching out to her makes Amity reconsider, she undoes the binding oath she placed on Luz. Then we see Amity’s siblings and how both parties are toxic to one another, and then we get a flashback confirming her parents are abusive. In regards to Willow specifically, Amity acknowledges she’s done harm to Willow in burning her memories, and works to fix them with Luz before we get this context.

Emira and Edric are also toxic to Amity, but in their next appearance they’re remorseful about what they’ve done to Amity, they’re working to make it up to their baby sister. And while they’re not present in the aforementioned flashback, their parents being confirmed as abusive tells you everything you need to know about them.

Lilith has a petty rivalry with Eda, but we see how much she cares and keeps breaking the law to look the other way, too. Then we see how she’s pressured by the Emperor’s Coven, and even threatened by Belos, before she captures Eda. We learn of her curse, but again; We see Lilith next and it’s reiterated that she believes this will cure Eda, we remember wanting to be kinder happened after cursing Eda. We see Lilith attempt to free Eda, and then we get the backstory about how the curse was mostly an accident. We get more info later on how Gwen’s neglect contributed to Lilith’s inferiority complex.

Hunter is the Golden Guard, he threatens to boil Luz, Eda, and King to death and wants the Selkidomus dead, but won’t even do it himself. He kidnaps Palismen to feed to Belos. But then later we see how he’s unhappy over his situation, how he feels like his uncle won’t let him help. Hunter begins to show consideration towards Flapjack and later Luz when he reveals his name, and then we get context as to how physically abusive Belos is, and where that scar came from. Flapjack returns and Hunter spares him.

Alador is either a controlling abuser to Amity, or a neglectful one. But he does hold his wife accountable when she tries to betray their daughter by going back on her end of the deal, and later shows genuine love for Amity when Alador isn’t more concerned about the family’s socioeconomic status. Amity admits how unhappy she is, Alador realizes he truly is hurting his daughter, and promises to talk with his wife over this. We later see him try, and then we see that Alador is also abused, and it’s implied his neglect comes from overworking himself in exchange for his children being spared the same.

Boscha is a bully, through and through. She torments everyone for purely petty reasons. But she also admits to feeling similar pressure as Willow, and then confesses to being lonely without Amity, Skara, Amelia, or Cat. Amity acknowledges that Boscha is lonely, but points out that Boscha needs to respect her for who she is. Boscha listens, and helps stop Kikimora. In the credits we see fully that she really was a miserable, scared child being manipulated by a grown adult.

The Collector is aiding Belos’ genocide, and (seemingly) knowingly. But they’re also fretful over the nature of their ‘friendship’ and are left betrayed and hurt. They meet King, and after being freed by him, we see how they try to be a good friend to King and are slowly listening to him bit by bit, which is why King vouches for rehabilitation over imprisonment. The Collector is already against harm to a certain point, defying what the Archivists mandate. And then we learn that they were unjustly imprisoned by the Titan, and didn’t even know about death in their childish, simplistic view of the world, seeing people as only broken and unmoving yet capable of being fixed at any time, if all the parts are there.

Gwen makes Eda feel ashamed of her curse, she neglects Lilith. But she does care for at least one daughter, and is horrified when she realizes the harm her antivaxxer actions have done. Gwen makes things up not only to Eda, but Lilith especially in taking her back home, even as Gwen explains during her reconciliation that she honestly saw Lilith as self-sufficient. And then a few episodes later, we find out her husband was mauled and left disabled by the curse, unable to continue his life’s work. And we get even more context for Gwen’s obsession in curing her daughter of the condition that gave her so much guilt.

Camila made Luz feel unwanted at home, going along with the camp, and her outburst later on was the wrong call; But she’s not punished for it, that’s not necessary. Instead she apologizes, we see Camila worry about the camp taking away Luz’s passion by salvaging her daughter’s weirdness for her, we see her be accommodating to Luz and her friends when she returns, having reflected in that time, and offering support. And then we learn that Camila was just like Luz, she fit in to survive, and she lost Manny, someone she needed to stand up for herself.

Bump is introduced as a principal willing to dissect Luz, but he also appreciates Willow’s magic and vouches for her to her parents. We see that he’s actually open-minded and cares about his students, he lets Eda enroll Luz on the fair grounds that Eda clear her own messes; Bump insists on following the coven system and places students into the detention track, but when those kids save the day, Bump owns up to a mistake he clearly didn’t like anyhow and changes things. And then we see his past, and how he’s been improving things this whole time, challenging Faust and looking out for Eda!

Even Steve technically qualifies; He’s a covenscout, he’s a jerk who knocks over someone else’s books to express his cop enthusiasm. But Steve forgives Skara for punching him in the face because he kidnapped her, and then admits to Hunter that what they’ve done is wrong, and he’s now reconsidering. Afterwards Steve has his introspective interactions with King, and then we see his face; Implying (and eventually confirmed by Dana) that he is the older brother that Mattholomule spoke of, who gave him the map to the Looking Glass Ruins that Adrian, in the previous episode, admitted he couldn’t find; Because Steve gave away the map to make his kid brother happy.

Likewise, I want to discuss two characters who don’t exactly fit this sequence, and don’t mature or get better, not of their own volition for one:

Kikimora is Belos’ assistant, she’s complicit in his executions. She tries to murder Hunter out of nothing but jealousy, helps bring Raine to Terra, goes after everyone at the Knee, etc. But then we see Kikimora is miserable because of her unsympathetic mother, who is probably abusive; She has no consideration that her daughter is obligated to their dictator, who demonstrated on live television that he’ll execute even his own high-ranking officials if they don’t go along with him, and Kikimora was there in-person. And is now expected to help with a major event involving other high-ranking officials and the dictator himself.

So we get Kikimora hurting people, being unhappy, and having a sad backstory; But we don’t have Kikimora reconsider the harm she’s doing. She accepts Luz’s help for her own sake, and instead of empathizing with Luz as a result, Kikimora betrays her when she sees a potential promotion. Kikimora is let down, we see later that she’s been demoted to the Crate Coven.

But then she attempts to bring Hunter to Belos, and it’s revealed later that she knows what happens to Grimwalkers like him, and has known about the genocide and still went along out of obsessive devotion. Despite this, Kikimora does not warrant Belos’ callousness, it’s not triumphant it’s just cruel because he was going to kill her just for being a demon, villain or saint it didn’t matter. So Kikimora is given her revenge when she helps free the Collector, who splatters Belos, an injury that leads to his eventual death, and stops the draining spell, saving Kikimora’s own life in the process!

At which point, you think she’d learn, right? But instead Kikimora does the exact same thing as Belos, which Luz calls out, despite having had her pedestal shattered because Kikimora doesn’t care about the harm to others, only herself. And so she can only temporarily be an ally, before going back to being an antagonist; The system is fine if she’s in charge, she doesn’t learn anything from what happened. And Kikimora is captured by rebelling students, and forced into community service four years later.

There’s also Belos, whom… Okay do I even need to explain??? We learn that he is upset by his brother’s death and misses him, too. And he does feel guilt about murdering Caleb and even the Grimwalkers, they weren’t purely replaceable in his eyes! But he never reconsiders his harm, he keeps repeating it, he never changes. Belos doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s doing witches and demons wrong. And while we do get his backstory, it’s clear from his priorities, the details, and Masha and the Titan’s own takeaways that he fully chose his misery, and that his backstory is not so sad with this in mind.

I wonder if the takeaway is that these characters can’t truly get better because in the end, they won’t acknowledge the harm they’ve done; They won’t admit it, they won’t do anything about it. And so they can only be counted on to care about making themselves feel better, but that’s it. And so on a pragmatic level, co-existence has to be forced.

Because with Kikimora, she’s made to do community service, and with prisons being abolished for hospitals, she’s likely on house arrest because the alternative is execution and no state should have that power. And with Belos, he proved himself too dangerous, he was well past his lifespan and dying anyway, and they were not going to sacrifice even a single, unwilling Palisman to keep Belos alive.

As for all the other characters, for whom things do work out with? I find it interesting how Sad Backstory is something for the protagonists and viewers to unlock. Maybe the idea is that the protagonists aren’t prepped to forgive a character simply over what happened in the past, just what’s happening now, and what they’re trying to do about it. You can still empathize when they’re sad, even without a backstory for context because look at Luz during Covention!

But as a whole it makes sense for the takeaways of those around them, because why should I care that you were sad, if you’re still being a jerk anyway? Now I know your sad backstory, but you’ve known it the whole time you were hurting me, so what difference does it make about you if you’re not changing; Do you just expect me to keep forgiving you out of pity?

It could be a consideration for what characters around them might realistically feel. The sad backstory, the re-contextualizing for why they’re like that, is the cherry on top to their arc; Yes this person sucks, but maybe they aren’t having a great time either. They give people a reason to be sympathetic. And then those people get to really appreciate their side of the story when they don’t have to worry about still being hurt.

Maybe it’s also a message to the audience, because with other characters showing that you still need to be careful in extending a hand, and given the toxic and abusive relationships we see, maybe this could be the context for that? An abuser’s sad backstory is the last thing on your mind; Your first thought should be that they’re hurting you.

But if they’re looking for help and actually want to improve, then you can offer it, and if they accept, then you can let yourself be caught up over their tragic past, instead of making excuses for them from the get-go because of that, RIP Hunter. When it comes to Willow, she was allowed to be angry well after learning Amity’s Sad Backstory, when she felt Amity wasn’t pulling her weight in making up for everything.

By contrast we have Eda not really giving a damn whether the curse was an accident, because Lilith still took knowingly took Luz hostage and threatened her, captured Eda. So her present actions are being unaddressed even if Lilith thinks her past one is. And when King vouches for Lilith, Eda refrains from taking vengeance; Lilith saving the family and taking the curse, past and present actions made up for, culminates in forgiveness.

It’s not enough that Lilith felt bad about it, she needed to tangibly do something about it, something genuine that doesn’t miss the point (unlike a certain emperor), and so to a no-nonsense adult like Eda, that’s when she can be forgiven. That’s when her sad backstory resonates, just as for the audience, that’s when we learn it so we can even appreciate it at all.

Some of this may just be basic storytelling conventions, like of course you’re going to get the character first and their characterizing actions, and then their backstory. But then again you could just as easily mix things up. Or it could just be an extension of this show’s larger fascination with re-contextualizing previous scenes and details. I just think it’s an interesting pattern to dwell over, and I wonder if it was intentional, how much was intentional, etc. Because with a show wanting to help kids understand abuse, to avoid it and/or realize it’s happening to them, to get help and heal, and finally figure out if they should forgive their abusers, if they want to… All of this could work in that regard.

[cloudy-lands]

Angel Dust x Daughter Reader

(prompt: reader is biological child of angel dust. y/n is his (angel dust's) first own child. Valentino somehow impregnated angel dust during a sex section with him. Before y/n was born Angel Dust left Valentino due to the abuse he was enduring to Angel and Angel didn't want his future child to be in a abusive family household.)

It was a few months into his pregnancy and Angel was happy as he could be. The spider demon was a father and was going to raise the baby on his own, but he also knew the dangers of Hell, so he had to make sure the kid was well protected.

"Don't worry kid, I'll get you the best protection." Angel said to his pregnant belly. He was a couple months into his pregnancy and was currently at work. Luckily the owner, Valentino, wasn't bothering him since he was pregnant and Valentino wasn't fond of kids.

"Angel Cakes~" Valentino called out. "Come here."

Angel sighed, walking into his boss's office.

"What is it, Val?" Angel asked.

"Oh nothing." Valentino smirked. "Just came by to say that the kid better not be a brat."

"Why would you think my kid would be a brat?" Angel asked, offended.

"Cause I know you, Angel cakes." Valentino replied. "You can't keep a damn thing clean."

Angel rolled his eyes.

"Well you don't have to worry, Val." Angel responded. "I'm not gonna have my kid in this shithole."

Valentino laughed.

"You're not taking the kid with you, are you?" Valentino asked.

"Yeah. So what if I am?" Angel asked.

"And just where the fuck do you think you'll go?" Valentino questioned.

"I don't know. Somewhere where I won't be forced to have sex with anyone I don't wanna." Angel replied.

"And you think you're gonna be safe there?" Valentino questioned. "Cause your life and that kid's life is in danger as long as you're down here."

“I would be staying at the hazbin hotel, the  place is a rehabilitation for sinners to be able to be redeemed into heaven. " said angel.

"The fuck do you mean by that?" Valentino asked.

"I mean, I'll be leaving soon. " Angel explained.

"So, you're gonna stay at the one place that's the safest from the rest of the fucking Pentagram?" Valentino questioned.

"Yep." Angel responded.

"That place is for sinners who actually have a shot at redemption." Valentino explained.

"I don't have a chance at redemption, but I'll still be staying there. " Angel said.

"I don't understand why the fuck you would do that, especially when you're not gonna have a shot at redemption." Valentino asked.

"Cause it's safer for the baby. " Angel said.

"Oh yeah. Cause the second owner, Alastor, is the safest guy around." Valentino mocked.

"He might be the safest. " Angel said.

"And why the fuck is he the safest?" Valentino asked.

"For one thing, he has a soft spot for children." Angel explained.

"Of course. Cause all psychopaths have a soft spot for kids." Valentino sarcastically stated.

"He's not a psychopath, Val." Angel defended.

"Oh really? That's not what I heard. " Valentino replied.

"Whatever." Angel said. "I'm just making sure my baby is safe."

"Well, you can do that while you're working, not running off to a hotel full of wannabe's." Valentino explained.

"Fuck off, Val. I'm not coming back here. " Angel said.

"You won't be leaving, Angel." Valentino said.

"Try and stop me." Angel dared.

Valentino got up, walked over to Angel and slapped him.

"You're not going anywhere." Valentino said.

Angel looked back at his boss, holding his face.

"Fine, I'm leaving." Angel said.

Valentino chuckled.

"Fine, you wanna leave. Leave." Valentino said.

"Thanks for your permission." Angel sarcastically stated.

"You better not tell anyone you're pregnant or I'll kill the kid." Valentino threatened.

Angel felt anger rising in him. He wanted to hit the moth pimp, but he was too afraid of him to do so.

"Whatever, just let me go." Angel said.

"Go ahead, I'll be waiting." Valentino said.

"You won't get to see the kid." Angel said.

"If they're not born dead, then they will be once I'm done with them." Valentino replied.

Angel walked out of his boss's office and walked down the hall.

"You better hope the kid is born dead." Angel muttered.

Angel left the building, he was heading for the hotel. He didn't know where else to go, and he didn't want his kid getting hurt by Valentino.

"I'm gonna raise this kid myself, whether Val likes it or not." Angel said.

As the days went on, Angel got more and more tired. The stress of the baby growing inside him was too much. He had a feeling that Valentino would actually try and hurt his kid, so he had to do something about it.

One night, Angel was in his room at the hotel, trying to get some sleep. It was hard for him, though, since his baby kept kicking him.

"Can't you be quiet?" Angel asked.

He waited for an answer, but none came.

"Fine, I'll make you quiet." Angel said.

He reached down, and started massaging his belly. It was the only thing he could think of to calm his baby.

"There. Happy now?" Angel asked.

No answer came, which frustrated Angel.

"Why do you have to make me suffer so much?" Angel questioned.

He waited again, but once again, no answer came.

"I can't wait till you're born. Then I won't have to worry about you." Angel said.

No answer came, but a small kick from the baby inside him.

"Oh yeah, that's right." Angel said.

He continued to rub his stomach.

"I can't wait till you're out." Angel said.

No answer came.

"Well, maybe you can't talk yet. That's fine. I'll just have to wait." Angel said.

He tried his best to get some sleep, but he couldn't. His baby kept kicking him, and it was annoying.

"Please, just stop. Let me sleep." Angel said.

No answer came again.

Angel sighed, and continued rubbing his stomach.

"Maybe you'll sleep better if you have a name." Angel said.

"How about..." He trailed off, thinking.

"What's a good name for a girl/boy?" Angel asked himself.

He thought for a minute, then a name came to him.

"How about Y/n?" Angel asked.

He waited, then he heard a kick.

"Okay, okay. I'll call you Y/n." Angel said.

Another kick came.

"You like that?" Angel asked.

A third kick came.

"Okay, that settles it. Your name is Y/n." Angel said.

He patted his stomach.

"Goodnight, Y/n." Angel said.

After some time finally, Angel fell asleep.

A few months later, it was time for Angel to give birth. The labor was hard, but Angel managed to deliver his child safely.

"It's a girl." The doctor said.

"She's beautiful." Angel said.

Angel looked down at his newborn daughter. She was a beautiful sight to behold.

"What's her name?" The doctor asked.

"Her name is Y/n." Angel told the doctor.

"What a lovely name." The doctor replied.

Angel took his daughter in his arms. She was the most precious thing he had ever seen.

"I'm gonna take care of you. I promise." Angel said.

After a few weeks, Angel brought his daughter back to the hotel. He told everyone that he had been staying at, that he had a daughter, and that they could come see her if they wanted to and for his child sake he told them a woman durring a shot for valentino have, had a child which she couldnt care for.

Charlie, Vaggie, and the rest of the staff came to visit Angel and his new daughter.

"Oh, she's beautiful!" Charlie exclaimed.

"What's her name?" Husk asked.

"Her name is Y/n." Angel replied.

"Y/n, huh?" Husk questioned.

"Yeah. I think it suits her." Angel replied.

"I think it's a great name." Charlie said.

"Me too." Vaggie agreed.

"Thanks." Angel replied.

Everyone took turns holding the baby. She was a little fussy, but not too much.

"I'm gonna raise you on my own. And everyone is gonna love you. You'll have a great life." Angel whispered to his daughter.

After a while, Angel decided to get some rest. He put his daughter down in her crib, and laid down in his bed.

"Goodnight, Y/n." Angel said.

With the love of a father, Angel knew he'd do whatever he had to, to make sure his daughter had a good life.

"You're a daddy's girl, you know that, kid?" Angel said.

He looked over his little girl, and closed his eyes.

"Love you." He whispered.

He fell asleep, a smile on his face.

A few years passed, and Angel had been taking care of his daughter. She was a happy, healthy little girl.

One day, Angel was sitting in the lobby of the hotel. He had brought his daughter along with him.

"Daddy, can we go outside?" Y/n asked.

"Sure. Just be careful, okay?" Angel replied.

"I will." Y/n replied.

She ran outside. Angel followed after her.

"Wait up!" Angel called.

"Hurry up, Daddy!" Y/n called.

"Hold on, kiddo." Angel replied.

He caught up to his daughter.

"There. Now, where do you want to go?" Angel asked.

"Can we go to the park?" Y/n asked.

"Okay. But we can't be gone long." Angel replied.

"Yay!" Y/n cheered.

They went to the park. Y/n played on the swings, while Angel pushed the swing once and turned away to watch her in case she fell.

"*giggles* Look, Daddy! I'm going high!" Y/n called.

"Careful, honey." Angel replied.

Y/n jumped off the swing, and ran towards Angel.

"I did it, Daddy! Did you see me?" Y/n asked.

"I did sweetheart." Angel replied.

"Now can I ride the monkey bars?" Y/n asked.

"Of course." Angel replied.

"Thanks!" Y/n said.

She ran off, and climbed onto the monkey bars.

"Watch what I can do, Daddy!" Y/n said.

She climbed across the monkey bars, and jumped down.

"That was great, honey." Angel said.

"Thanks, Daddy." Y/n replied.

They continued playing at the park.

After a while, they decided to go back to the hotel.

"Thank you for playing with me, Daddy." Y/n said.

"Anything for my little girl." Angel replied.

"You're the best daddy ever." Y/n replied.

"Oh, Thank you." Angel replied.

When they arrived back at the hotel, they were greeted by Charlie.

"Hello, Angel. And hello to you, too, Y/n." Charlie said.

"Hi, Auntie Charlie!" Y/n said.

"What'd you two do today?" Charlie asked.

"We went to the park." Y/n said.

"Was it fun?" Charlie asked.

"Yep. Daddy pushed me on the swing." Y/n said.

"Did you have a good time, too, Daddy?" Charlie teasingly asked chuckling.

"Yeah. It was nice." Angel sighed looking to the side with a distant expression.

"Daddy, are you okay?" Y/n asked.

"Y/n, why don't you go play in your room?" Angel suggested.

"Okay." Y/n replied.

She ran into her room, leaving Angel and Charlie alone.

"So, how'd the day go?" Charlie asked.

"Great." Angel sighed.

"Really?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah." Angel replied.

"Then, what's wrong?" Charlie asked.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is fine." Angel replied.

"Angel, I've known you long enough to know when something's bothering you." Charlie said.

"It's just... Y/n's getting older. She's growing up, and soon, she won't need me anymore." Angel replied.

"Don't say that, Angel.She'll always need you. You're her father." Charlie replied.

"Yeah, but she'll start making her own decisions. She won't need me to help her." Angel explained.

"You'll still be there for her, Angel. She'll always need her dad." Charlie assured him.

[hiskillingjar]

brother-and-sister bonding

Relationship: Ren Hana/MC Rating: Explicit Includes: Fauxcest, Hate Sex, Bratting, Sex Toys, Lactation Length: 5400+ words

a super generous and fun request for an anonymous user on ko-fi, thank you so much!

if you'd like a commission of your own, feel free to check out my post and shoot me a message!

Life was easy for Ren. 

He had a routine, he had a structure, he had a set of rules that he could abide by, day to day, to make sure he stayed alive and stayed sane.

In the mornings (or early afternoons, depending on how long he slept in for, how bad the night before had been for him), he’d wake up, make breakfast, clean up after himself, and then maybe, occupy his time with a new show (he got through his watch list in record time, these days) or some heavily filtered internet access. 

At mid-day, he’d eat lunch, take a nap in the armchair in the living room while he watched another show, and, of course, try not to get himself killed (an important task, maybe the most!) 

In the evenings, if he lasted that long, he’d make dinner, clean up after himself (again), and maybe have a bath to balm his new wounds, before going to bed.

Then the cycle would start all over again for the rest of time, forever.

Often what people didn’t tell those who were getting rehabilitated after a long duration of captivity, was just how difficult life was suddenly going to get for them.

After the period of attention-heavy coddling, even captives had to engage in the real world again, and many cracked under the pressure of just how hard being a person could be,

Captivity was, unfortunately, very easy for someone like Ren, despite the ever-present danger that threatened him for what felt like every minute of the day. 

It was stable. It was routine. It was monotonous. 

And though he was smart enough to know that this wasn't what a life should be, living like a caged animal, too scared to make even one mistake lest he be punished for it within an inch of his life, there was a certain comfort to knowing exactly what he was going to do, every day, for the rest of his life.

Hence, his irritation when a new toy had come in and fucked all of that up.

And hence why he was currently staring at his computer screen, some monotonous, cloying, fan-servicey type livestream happening in the background of his brooding, instead of making dinner for the evening like he usually did, all because she had so generously offered to do it in his stead.

He seethed silently to himself as he shoved off his headphones with a huff, the smell of sticky brown sauce and tofu making his nose twitch, potent even from all the way downstairs. 

She was probably burning it, which just made him even angrier.

This was just about the chores, he told himself, his tail idly swaying with irritation (enough to make his computer chair spin to and fro). This was about the disruption to his routine throwing him out of wack and disorientating him, it was just that.

His anger surely had nothing to do with the beaming smile Strade would give her whenever she presented the shitty dinner she had made to him, reminding Ren of a husband and a new (inexperienced) wife, or the way he would pet her hair all the while as he ate, or even the way he would compliment her cooking (while he was sitting right there), commenting that she should make dinner more often, because "Ren's got a routine about his cooking" and he’d grown bored of it.

It was nothing to do with that, surely.

No way. 

"Ren," She said brightly, jolting him out of his thoughts and pulling any lingering attention he might have had on the livestream away, as she poked her head around the door frame with a beaming smile, always sunshine and roses. "Dinner's ready!"

“Mmf,”

He didn’t respond immediately, at least not properly, his ears twitching irritably as he set his headphones on his desk, turning menacingly (or an attempt of menace, at least) in his computer chair and glaring at her for what felt like a solid thirty seconds of pregnant silence. 

“What was that?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

“Um,” Her smile faltered slightly as she nudged the door open a little more. “I said dinner was ready. Black bean tofu and veggies.” She attempted another smile. “I’ve been at it all afternoon.”

Because you’re a lousy cook, he wanted to say, but he bit his lip to stop himself.

He knew he should have probably said something at least vaguely kind and grateful; a "thank you" or a "good work" or something like that. He knew that he should have attempted to express a least an approximation of sincere gratitude towards her effort, knew that because he had been conditioned into it. 

But a knot in his stomach stopped him from feeling anything even close to gratitude, replaced by a curling spiral of…something else he couldn’t (wouldn’t) name.

"You didn’t need to come up here and tell me.” He eventually said as flatly as possible, turning back to his screen. “I’m not hungry.”

"Are you sure?" She asked, tilting her head thoughtfully with a little pout, her long hair running down her shoulders and covering her full chest. "I got a recipe from one of your cookbooks. It's Japanese, special for you!"

Special for him?

He stiffened slightly against the tall back of his chair, before turning to give her a suspicious, sideways glance. 

Cast half in the bright light of the hallway, and half by the LED strips that covered his desk and the walls of his bedroom, she looked…well, pretty good, as much as he hated to admit it to himself. 

Dressed in a tight, milk-maid-like dress that hugged her body in several flattering ways, the neckline also cutting low enough to accentuate the smooth, pale plains of her chest, it was…sort of no wonder Strade had developed such a fondness for her in such little time.

He could only imagine what she might have looked like, begging and pleading for his mercy, her pale skin streaked with blood, her full lips open and gasping and crying. 

“I said I’m not hungry.” He repeated, turning back to his computer to hide his wandering eyes and the pinkish hue of his cheeks. "And...I mean, it IS kind of presumptuous that you think I'd want to eat it anyway, just because it's Japanese. Super rude of you, actually. You should ask what I want first, if you’re gonna do that."

"Mm, y-yeah, fine, I guess so." She finally stepped inside his room (without his asking to), making him turn back to look at her again with an annoyed glare. Her cheeks were slightly pink with embarrassment and her hands were clasped tont of her, fingers twitching in their entanglement. "You don't have to be an asshole, though, you know. I'm just trying to be nice..."

Nobody asked you to." He retorted sharply, crossing his arms over his chest with a childish huff. "I don’t need you to pretend to be all nice and caring, and…and motherly all of a sudden for whatever reason. Just stop.” He huffed again, his gaze flitting to the side. “I don’t find it cute, so don’t bother with that crap around me."

She stood back towards the closed door of his bedroom, her body straightening out, ridding itself of any pretence of embarrassment or bashfulness in her posture, with a little scoff and another pout, putting her hands on her hips.

Never beating the motherly allegations, it seemed.

"I'm not pretending, I just made dinner and wanted to include you,” She complained with a sharp look. “A-and motherly, what is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed and spun his computer chair to face her fully, and for a split second, he almost found her indignant pout endearing and soft of cute, almost enough to drop the whole thing and leave her alone to enjoy the dinner she had made special for him.

Just almost, though.

"Of course, you’re pretending," He snapped, rolling his eyes, his tail idly swaying again. "What, am I supposed to believe that you would normally act like some simpering housewife, making dinners and cleaning and wearing a pretty dress, if you weren’t trying to get Strade to like you? It’s all fake. You’re fake” 

He laughed and shook his head. 

"You like to act like you're sooo much better than me, don't you? Well, I can see through your bullshit act, so it’s not going to work on me. Get it?"

Her eyes widened slightly as he ranted to her, and she let out another scoff when he was finished, breathing out an aggravated laugh with a sardonic smirk.

"Are you kidding? That's the reason you're pissed off at me?" She crossed her arms, the weight of her full chest pooling over them, showing them off even more. "Because Strade is leaving you alone? Because you actually get to have a night by yourself instead of entertaining your fucking kidnapper so he doesn’t kill you when he’s bored?"

"No, that's not why I'm pissed at you, idiot." He jabbed back quickly, his tail lashing behind him as he sat forward in his seat. "I'm pissed off at you because your fake bullshit has been interrupting me all week. You keep going around the house,” He gestured widely with his hands, putting on a simpering tone. “Looking all cute and sweet and trying to act like some sort of housewife. What are you, Strade’s lapdog? Or are you just trying to suck up to him so you can get rewarded for being a good girl?"

She bristled at that, a scowl darkening her pretty features.

"Excuse me for having some semblance of a survival instinct.” She barked back. “Are you really so jealous that you'd create these bullshit excuses for yourself, Ren? Maybe you should be grateful that I’m not just leaving you to fend for yourself, that’s what someone else would do-"

"Survival instinct?! You don't understand anything!” He immediately shouted back, almost cutting her off as he thrust his hands against his chest. “How about you try feeling the way I do, try feeling like you've been cast off for the shiny new toy!  Tell me how fucking grateful you'd feel after that!"

She grinned smugly, looking almost triumphant that she'd gotten a reaction from him.

Maybe she wasn’t as sweet as he’d first assumed.

"You're pathetic, you know that?” She said, narrowing her eyes towards him, her tone cutting and sharp. “You're like a little kid, fighting for Daddy's attention."

That comment almost stopped him in his tracks, making him feel, instantly, like he had been punched in the face with a combination of rage, jealousy and despicable lust.

It was so absurd, so out of nowhere and yet so painfully on target that it made a furious blush spread across his face.

"Fuck you-" He murmured through grit teeth, his hands curling against the pockets of his joggers.

"Is that what he is to you, Ren?" She asked him with a mocking pout. "Is he your daddy?"

"You…" He stood up from his computer chair abruptly (enough to push it back against his desk), his tail whipping behind him furiously. "You don't, y-you’re one to talk! You’re the one who keeps sucking up to him, l-like you're soooo happy,” He gritted his teeth, his cheeks flushing darker as he tried to put some kind of authority to his voice. “T-To have Strade’s attention that you'll do whatever he wants, like you like being his whore or something!”

“I’m not his fucking whore!” She yelled back at him, almost at a breaking point of her own. 

“Then stop acting like one!” He hissed.

"Why don't you go suck Daddy's cock,” She bit back, her voice louder than it had been before (and surely loud enough for anyone downstairs to hear too). “If you're so fucking desperate for it?!"

“Shut up!”

Overcome by his animal instincts (to kill, bite, maim, hurt, whatever he needed to do to win), he practically leapt forward, his vision red with anger, and grabbed her by the wrists, digging his claws deep into her skin as he pushed her backwards against the closed bedroom door, each body wrestling to overpower the other.

“Ngh!” She cried out loudly, trying to yank back from his grip, making his claws dig in deeper, as if he had already tethered himself to her. “G-Get off me!”

When he was this close, barely inches from her face as spittle sprayed across his cheeks, all while she shouted and screamed with primal annoyance, he could see each wrinkle and twist in her furious expression, and he was suddenly compelled to hit her, take her by the shoulders and bash her head into the door, the wall, until there was nothing left to be angry at. 

He couldn’t help it, he told himself amid his rage. 

The prospect of slapping that taunting, insolent expression off her face and replacing it with something more appealing, something that better suited her pretty face, something red and bloody and meaty, was just…too compelling

“Shut up, you goddamn moron.”

He pressed himself against her as she kept trying to fight him off of her, using his (minute) weight to keep her pinned against the door, his tail lashing and his teeth bared.

“Stop talking crap like you know fucking anything about me,” He hissed, feeling his annoyance grow even more as she kept fighting and wriggling underneath him. “As though you’re so much better. Shut. Up.”

She kept on writhing against him all the while, her full hips occasionally colliding with his, little whimpers falling from her lips like a pinned animal. 

All of that (unfortunately) got his blood pumping like mad, the constant stimulation against his growing arousal, as well as the primal excitement of holding a squirming body still for a change (rather than being the one who was squirming), and he had to resist the urge to shudder and moan, feeling his skin prickle and his tail twitch as he pressed his body up against hers further, their hips aligned wonderfully.

He was aware, too, of the way her full chest (practically spilling out of her dress) was pushed against his, and the way he was forcing her to crane her neck back so she could even look at him.

It made him feel good.

It made him feel powerful. And he so rarely got to feel anything even close to that.

"You wanna play 'house', huh? Is that it?" He murmured as he pressed closer, forcing their faces together and growling into her cheek, before sliding a knee between her thighs and hiking it upwards, forcing her thighs to part. "Alright, if Strade is 'daddy', I guess that makes us 'brother and sister', doesn't it?"

Her eyes widened slightly at his growled words, stunned into near stillness before her expression twisted into one of shocked disgust and she kept squirming erratically underneath his body, especially so when his hips went forward, rubbing the beginnings of his erection against her thigh.

"Get the fuck off me!” She shrieked, shaking her head to shove him away.

“Ah-ah!”

He let out a mean laugh and grabbed her by the jaw then, his claws digging into her skin as he forced her to look at him, to see his golden eyes, sparkling with mirth, and know what he wanted from her. Her cheeks were flushed with furious humiliation, and her full lips were parted and wet with sprayed spittle, and his stomach felt like it was in knots from the effort of trying to control himself. 

“You were the one who fucked around with me, you little brat,” He said, his voice almost a low growl, as his snarling lips grew into a smirk, his knee going up higher and nudging at the front of her panties. "Oh, now you're fighting me because you don't want to play anymore? Is that it?"

"Don't touch me, you freak!" She protested again, crying out when his claws sank deeper into her wrists and the meat of her cheek, as sharp as a needle in a pin cushion, droplets of blood streaming out and beading around his fingertips. “You’re, ngh, you’re just as bad as he is!”

Was that an insult or a compliment? Depended on the day, he guessed.

“HAH! Am I?” He keened forward on his tiptoes then, so they were face to face, as close they could get, and he could feel her panicked breaths ghost over his face, warming it up even more than it was already. “I’ll show you how bad I can be, hm?” 

He hated her. He knew that much, at this point.

So why...why did seeing her pinned, wriggling, crying underneath him make his blood feel like it was roaring in his veins, like it had never done before?

Something something, there is an awful lot of love in hate.

Or, certainly, an awful lot of lust.

"Ohhh, little sister doesn't want to play anymore?” He taunted, lowering his voice to a cloying coo. “She wants to stay perfect and untouched for Daddy, doesn't she?" He then added sharply, as if he felt truly scorned, his breath growing faster as adrenaline and anger and hot arousal started to boil over and he rutted against her thigh even more, even faster. "Maybe he likes you so much because you'll play the whore, though, cus you'll play mommy for him."

"Nghhh, fuck," She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip as he rocked into her. “I’m not a fucking whore-”

“Mm, I think you are,” He continued to taunt, one hand sinking from her jaw (leaving behind bloody gouges on her skin) to hungrily pull open the ties of her dress, the fabric unfolding and revealing more of her pale chest, heaving and spilling out of the tight cotton. "Your tits are big enough to be mommy, anyway, a little too big to be a cute, little sister.”

"You've got a dirty, nh!" She flinched as he tore more of the dress, retrieving a scrap from the front (making it unwearable, in the future) to bind her wrists together in a messy knot, before hooking them above her head on a jacket peg. "A-A dirty mouth, Ren..."

“And you’ve got a dirty mind,” He replied smugly with a big grin, his tail idly wagging as he leisurely paced to the side and opened the top drawer of his desk, retrieving a set of bullet vibrators and a roll of athletic tape.

Finally, he was getting the chance to do this.

It had been a long time coming, he thought with a smirk, looking back at her. And who knew when he’d get this chance again?

Best to make the most of it now.

“Did Daddy get this for you, little sis?” He asked as he paced back towards her with a lazy saunter, tauntingly toying with the flaps of cotton fabric with one of his bloody claws. “Or did you ask for it, because you like showing yourself off for him, hm?~”

"I'm not your fucking sister, you pervert," She growled with a venomous look in her eyes, trying to pull at the cotton sash binding her, though her effort was evidently in vain when she let out a pained hiss, the cotton rubbing painfully against the dots of blood marring her wrists. “That’s sick.”

“Oh, but you said it yourself, didn’t you?” He asked with an innocent tone to his voice, tugging the dress’ fabric down even more so that her nipples were revealed, swelling with involuntary arousal, ripe and delicious and waiting for him. “You can’t take it back now. You’ve let me think about it for too long, now.”

He hummed casually as he positioned the first bullet against her nipple and taped it in place with strips of tape, biting off each one as they lay flat on her breast, idly licking his lips as he did so.

"What’re you doing?” She asked with a confused look towards her now adorned chest, before her eyes went back to his, her brows knitting together with concern. 

“Don’t worry about it,” He smirked, positioning the second bullet across her other nipple and taping that in place too. “We’re just playing, aren’t we, sis? It’s nothing that serious.”

“W-We’re not,” She started, catching herself stammering and swallowing uncomfortably as her bound wrists rolled together again. “We’re not playing. I don’t want to play.”

“Mm, and I didn’t want you bothering me all night,” He replied airily, hiking up the skirt of her dress and revealing a sensible pair of panties. Figures, Strade never cared about important things like aesthetics. That was his job, he supposed. “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”

He then pressed his thumb against the front of her panties, his smirk widening into a (sort of) genuine smile when he found a slightly damp spot. 

“Or, heh, maybe you are getting exactly what you want,” He suggested, leaning into her with a lecherous smile, his tail swaying as he slid the last bullet into her panties, nestled against where she was most sensitive (and he guessed as much, from the way she immediately flinched and whimpered as he tried to adjust it into the perfect place). “And you’re lying to me. What a naughty little sister I have, hah~”

“I’m not-NGH!”

He turned all three vibrators on with the click of a button, and her eyes almost instantly bulged out of her skull, overwhelmed by the buzzing sensation, and her expression only got more exaggerated and hot as he slid the vibrators’ motor up another notch, giving her even more to focus on.

“You’re noooot?” He drawled with a teasing grin, pressing close to her again as she moaned mindlessly, squeezing her eyes shut to try and contain the amount of pleasure she was being forced to feel. “You’re not lying, you’re not enjoying this, or…” 

He turned the vibrators up another notch, hearing another loud, pained moan from her parted lips.

“You’re not my little sister, hm? Which is it?”

“Nnfff, Rennnn,” She murmured pleadingly, her thighs pressing together tightly and trembling, struggling to hold her body upright, as she stared towards him, any previous venom in her gaze and tone long absent. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for whatever I did. But, hah, please,” She whimpered again, eyes clenched shut again as another wave of white-hot pleasure hit her hard. “T-This is too much, way too much, nhh!”

“Oh, so, now you’re wanting to be good?” He asked with the same cloying tone as before, nuzzling against the crook of her neck, against her cheek, scenting her, his twitching ears grazing her temple and making him shiver. “You’ve seen what happens when you’re bad, and now you want to be a good girl for me, like you are with Daddy, hm?”

“Yesss,” She drawled, doing her best to look towards him and acclimate to what he wanted of her. “Yes, yes, I’ll be good, please just stop-”

“Tell you what…” He started, turning the vibrators up another notch and listening to her cry out with another big smile, running his tongue over his teeth. “Address me properly and maybe I’ll think about going easy on you. What do you think about that, hm?”

“H-Hah,” 

She breathed out, her bound hands curling into tight fists above her as she closed her eyes with a tight, grimacing expression, clearly not thrilled by what she was about to say, but…willing to do it for what she needed. 

“P-Please…big brother,” He lip twitched with slight discomfort. “Please turn your toys off…I promise, I’ll be a good sister from now on, I won’t bother you ever again, I promise.”

“Oh, that’s really good, little sis,” He mumbled his tone sweet with praise as he pressed a wet kiss against her cheek. “Sounds almost like you practised it, just for me. Mm, Daddy did well with you, didn’t he? He’s training you to be a good, little whore…”

“Ngh,” Her head sank against her heaving chest, her breathing hard. “Please, please, please…please stop, now, please?”

“Mm…too bad.”

He then slid the motor up to the highest setting he could, the incessant buzzing of the triplet bullets almost drowning out the wonderful sound of her pained cries and whines.

Almost.

“FUUUCK!” She cried out like she was experiencing something close to true agony, gritting her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut and opening wide over and over again, fluttering, like a broken baby doll, while her wet mouth gaped and drooled, unable to stop herself. “FUCK, STOP, PLEASE!”

This was truly too perfect.

Someone was actually experiencing (at least a close approximation of) true pain in front of him. They were writhing, crying, bleeding, and begging him for mercy (that they wouldn’t find) and for him to let them go, and whatever they had to do, they’d do, just for a chance at freedom.

She was in a position he had been in countless times before, all because of him.

He’d never been more turned on.

His shaking hand quickly sank to the front of his joggers, urgently untying the toggle before peeling them down and revealing his hard, leaking cock, the knot throbbing hungrily at the base, waiting for something warm to fuck and sink into, like he was sliding into an unknowable home.

"Fuck, you deserve this.” He breathed hard through his gritted teeth, working his hand up and down the length of it as he pressed closer against her, panting against her already hot skin, probably making her feel that much more uncomfortable. “It's what you get for getting on my nerves. Now, hah,” 

He squeezed the head of his cock hard, a pearl of pre-cum smearing against her naked thighs (scarred, just like his were, cut from the same cloth, a creation of the same master, embodying the same trauma, as much as he despised it). 

“N-Now you're going to be all ruined and fucked up, and Daddy is going to go back to loving me even more…hah,” His head tilted forward against her shoulder, breathing harder as he worked himself up even more. “That’s all I want…e-everything I want, mm-”

He knew that probably wasn’t likely.

He knew that anything he could have done to a new toy wouldn’t have ruined her for Strade in the slightest.

If anything, it might have made him like her even more.

But it felt good to say, all the same.

"Maybe you won't be a sister or a mommy anymore.” He whispered into her skin as she kept crying out for mercy, her jaw tense and her eyes wide and staring right ahead of her, thousands of miles away. “M-Maybe you'll just be some dumb dog that sleeps outside and pisses with her leg up, and...nhh..."

He squeezed another dribble of pre-cum across her skin, before reaching up to grope and paw at one of her breasts.

"Fuck, sis, that's so good,” He gasped, as a wave of white-hot pleasure hit him all at once. The full weight and size of her breast made it even more fun to handle and play with, which in turn just made him feel that much more aroused.  “Mm...if I didn’t think it’d get me killed, I’d have fucked you by now, without a care in the world…mm.” 

She moaned brainlessly again, her head sinking against her thick, metal collar, bucking mindlessly against nothing as she was pushed closer and closer to her breaking point.

“Nnhh, that’s okay though~” He breathed out with a wheezing little titter, running his tongue over his fangs before pressing another kiss to her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck and her jaw. “It’ll feel good knowing you’re losing your mind because of me anyway…even if I can’t fuck you yet.”

“Nghh, please,” She drawled with a shaking exhale, pleading, soft thighs clenched together as she sank against her binds, the ratty cotton seemingly the only thing keeping her upright. “Please, fuck me, I want you to-”

“Ohoho, how she changes her tune now,” Ren laughed again, filled with unexpected energy to persist as he pulled back to really look at her, exhausted and empty of the protest she was full of before. “What, has my sweet little sister decided that she wants to play the whore all of a sudden? My my, we really aren’t ourselves when we want something, are we?”

“Ren, hah, big brother,” She squealed as he lowered his head to tongue at her breast, or, at least, what little of her areola he hadn’t covered with the tape. “Please, please, this feels like torture…”

“Oh, but it’s supposed to, sis,” He purred with an indulgent smile, nuzzling against her chest as his fist moved faster, up and down, his cock, his own arousal getting close to painful, he was so close. “Ngh, it’s supposed to be all fun for me, and torture for you. This is how things work around here, after all, don’t you know that?”

“Ghhhh, too much,” She whined, squeezing her eyes shut again, her head hitting the door as she tipped her head back. “Hurting, please, nhh…”

“Shhh, I know, baby,” Ren thencooed softly, his tail wagging at her needy tone as he peeled the athletic tape from her sore nipple and pulled the bullet aside, giving himself the full expanse of her nipple to tongue and taste as he pleased. “Just be good and I’ll try and make this bearable for you, kay?~”

“Stop, stop, hah!” Her eyes went wide again as she started to struggle. “Stop, ngh, t-that’s really sore!”

“You know I’m not going to do that,” He smiled teasingly, before slipping the now available bullet into her panties with the third one, only adding more to her torture and quickly making her shut up again. “Try to endure it, okay? I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“Nhhh,” She moaned helplessly, her eyes rolling back into her head (where they belonged, not looking at him, not seeing him), her mouth open and gasping and drooling.

“That’s it,” He praised with another smile, kissing her nipple again. “Much better.”

He indulgently ran the flat of his tongue over the ripe bud of her nipple as he kept fucking his fist, latching onto it like a babe and suckling eagerly, the taste and weight of her body against his pushing him, too, that much closer to the edge.

He was already so close, already there, when-

“MM-!”

Ren pulled back quickly, his eyes wide and his tongue between his teeth, when he spotted…

Was that milk? Oozing from her chest?

“You’re…lactating,” He pointed out, looking up towards her empty face (she was so lost, so far gone, so lovely to look at already) with a furrowed expression before a shaky smile crossed his face and he looked back down to where her nipple was still dribbling fluid. “Oh…hah, wow, that’s…um…”

His face was beet red and his cock was throbbing even more against his palm.

“Really, really fucking hot.”

He closed the temporary gap between the two of them quickly, suckling again at her nipple and moaning as another gush of fluid shot across his tongue, sweet and fatty and so delicious, he thought he was going to go crazy.

“G-God, I guess you really are Mommy, huh?” He murmured shakily, licking his lips (licking his fangs while he was at it) as he desperately lapped up any of the remaining drops that ran down her breast. “Mm, that’s okay, though. You’re still my sweet little sister, even if you are getting too big for it, nnhHH!”

His mouth went back to suck her nipple again, jerking himself off so roughly (so much so, her breast muffled actual whimpers) that it was starting to hurt, his cockhead sore and red and weeping with beads of pre-cum now, he was that close to climax and so desperate for release.

Another spurt of breast milk crossed his tongue, which he swallowed eagerly with another whimper, his lids fluttering and his legs trembling from the exertion of holding himself upright.

He was so close, everything about this was perfect, it was all perfect, He was so close, he was almost there, he was-!

“Are you two coming down for dinner or what?! I don’t want to be kept waiting~”

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

I have a yandere alastor idea for you... Could you do it? Imagine the reader being one of the unfortunate people who was killed by the alastor when he was human... Human! Alastor never felt these strong feelings for anyone, until the reader appeared in his life, the reader was a kind and caring person with everyone, always treating everyone the same... Now I imagine when Alastor discovered that these feelings were love for the reader, but the reader rejected him because he already loved other people... Maybe Alastor, in his desperate and psychotic environment, unintentionally killed the reader... (now currently) the reader became an angel and was chosen to help Charlie at the hotel (of course the reader doesn't know that Alastor is at the hotel and this happens after the battle)... Now what would happen?

Synopsis: You hadn’t expected to meet the person who brought you to your very end when you were assigned to Princess Morningstar’s new project. Maybe you should’ve declined. But who would you be if you said no to helping someone in need?

Warnings: mentions of murder, obsession, alastor is cray z, they/them pronouns for the reader

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

The Hazbin Hotel was unlike any place Y/n had ever encountered. As they walked through the grand, yet dilapidated entrance, a sense of purpose welled up within them. This was where they were needed, where they could make a difference. They had been chosen, after all, for their kindness, their ability to see the good in others, even in the most unlikely of places. Helping Charlie and her mission to rehabilitate the souls in Hell was an honor, and Y/n was determined to succeed.

The first few days went by smoothly. The residents were curious about the new angel in their midst, but most welcomed the change. Charlie was overjoyed to have another ally, someone who could bring light to the darkness she so desperately wanted to dispel. Y/n settled into their role, offering guidance, support, and a gentle presence to those who sought it.

It wasn’t long before Y/n noticed the whispers, the tales of a certain demon who had a particularly strong influence over the hotel and its inhabitants. The Radio Demon, they called him—Alastor. There was a sense of both fear and admiration in the way the others spoke of him, and it piqued Y/n’s curiosity. Who was this demon that commanded such respect and dread?

Their question was soon answered. Y/n was in the lobby, speaking with Charlie, when the doors swung open, and a figure stepped inside. The atmosphere shifted instantly, the room falling silent as if the very air was holding its breath. Y/n turned, their gaze falling upon the tall, smiling demon in a red pinstripe suit.

Alastor.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as their angelic senses were overwhelmed with a mix of familiar energy and something far darker. There was a strange, unnerving feeling gnawing at the edges of their mind, a sense of recognition that they couldn’t quite place. When Alastor’s crimson eyes locked with theirs, the world around them seemed to blur, and memories long buried came rushing back with a force that left them breathless.

The kind man they had once known—had once cared for—was now the demon standing before them.

Alastor’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments as he too felt the weight of the past crash down upon him. Y/n, the one person who had stirred something deep within him during his mortal life, was here, in Hell, and—an angel. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all, trying to control the surge of emotions that threatened to shatter his carefully constructed facade.

“Ah, a new face!” Alastor’s voice was smooth, dripping with his usual charm, though there was an unmistakable tension beneath it. “And such a radiant one at that. Welcome to our humble abode.”

Y/n couldn’t speak. Their throat tightened as they struggled to reconcile the man they had known with the demon before them. The memories were vivid—Alastor’s intense eyes, his desperate confession of love, and the chilling moment when everything had gone wrong. They had rejected him, had tried to explain that their heart belonged to another, but Alastor had been unable to accept it. In his desperation, his madness, he had—

“Thank you,” Y/n finally managed to say, their voice trembling ever so slightly. They glanced at Charlie, who was watching them both with a curious expression, unaware of the storm brewing between them.

Alastor took a step closer, his smile widening as he tilted his head, studying them. “Have we met before? You seem… familiar.”

Y/n’s breath caught in their throat. Did he truly not remember? Or was this another one of his games, designed to unnerve them?

“I—” Y/n struggled to find their words, the memories of their death weighing heavily on their mind. “I don’t believe we’ve met in this life.”

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he turned to Charlie, his demeanor shifting back to his usual jovial self. “Charlie, my dear, I see our little project is expanding. How delightful!”

Charlie, still oblivious to the tension, beamed. “Yes! This is our new helper, and I think they’ll do wonders for our cause.”

Y/n tried to regain their composure, offering a polite smile as they nodded in agreement. But their thoughts were in turmoil, memories and emotions clashing with their angelic purpose. They needed time to think, to understand what this meant for them—for both of them.

As the days passed, Y/n tried to avoid Alastor as much as possible. They focused on their work, helping the residents, and assisting Charlie with her plans, but it was impossible to ignore the presence of the Radio Demon. He was everywhere—his voice echoing through the hotel, his influence seeping into every corner of the establishment. And every time they crossed paths, Y/n felt that same unease, the same pull of the past that threatened to consume them.

Eventually, they couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of their unresolved past with Alastor was too much to bear. They needed answers, closure—something to make sense of the chaos in their heart. And so, one evening, when the hotel was quiet and the other residents were occupied, Y/n sought out Alastor.

They found him in the hotel’s grand parlor, standing by the window and gazing out at the Hellish landscape beyond. He didn’t turn around when they entered, but his voice, smooth and laced with amusement, greeted them.

“I wondered when you’d come to see me,” he said, still not looking at them. “It was only a matter of time.”

Y/n’s hands clenched at their sides as they steeled themselves for the confrontation. “Why did you do it, Alastor?” Their voice was steady, but the pain behind the words was unmistakable. “Why did you kill me?”

For a moment, the room was deathly silent. Alastor’s smile faded as he finally turned to face them, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You already know the answer to that,” he replied quietly, his usual jovial tone absent. “I loved you.”

Y/n felt a pang in their chest, a mix of sorrow and anger. “You didn’t love me, Alastor. You wanted to possess me. You couldn’t handle the idea of me loving someone else, so you—” Their voice cracked, and they took a deep breath, trying to maintain their composure. “So you took my life.”

Alastor’s gaze remained fixed on them, but there was no trace of his usual smugness. Instead, there was something almost vulnerable in his expression, a rare glimpse of the man he once was. “I was desperate,” he admitted, his voice low. “Desperate and lost. I didn’t know how to handle what I felt, and in that moment, I… I lost control.”

Y/n looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The memories of that night were too vivid, too painful. “You took everything from me, Alastor. My life, my future… everything.”

“I know.” There was a deep regret in his voice, one that was almost foreign coming from him. “I’ve thought about it every day since. And now… seeing you here, like this… It’s as if my past has come back to haunt me.”

They were silent for a moment, the weight of their shared history hanging heavily between them. Y/n’s heart ached with the memory of who Alastor used to be, the man who had once shown them kindness and affection. But that man was gone, replaced by the demon before them.

“I didn’t come here to forgive you,” Y/n finally said, their voice firm. “I came here to understand. I needed to know if you felt anything—any remorse for what you did.”

Alastor nodded slowly. “I do,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know it changes nothing. I know that what I did to you is unforgivable.”

Y/n turned back to him, their expression softening. “Perhaps,” they said quietly. “But I’ve changed too. I’m an angel now, and I’m here to help souls, even those like you.” They paused, searching his eyes for any sign of the man they once knew. “I don’t know if you can be redeemed, Alastor. But I do know that holding on to the past—holding on to hatred—it won’t help either of us.”

Alastor’s eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. “And what would you have me do? Beg for your forgiveness? Seek redemption for a soul that’s already damned?”

Y/n shook their head. “No. I’m not asking you to change who you are. But I am asking you to let go of the past, just as I must. We’re both here, in Hell, and we have to live with what’s happened. But that doesn’t mean we have to let it control us.”

Alastor stared at them for a long moment, the conflict in his eyes clear. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said softly. “But know this, Y/n—I may have loved you once, but I am no longer the man you knew. I am the Radio Demon, and I have my own path to follow.”

Y/n nodded in understanding, a sense of closure washing over them. “And I have mine. But know this, Alastor—no matter what, I will continue to help those who need it. Even if that includes you.”

With that, Y/n turned and left the parlor, leaving Alastor alone with his thoughts. As they walked down the dimly lit corridors of the hotel

[imdedinsidex-x]

Working on a Hazbin rewrite that I’m dubbing The Bed and Betterment Project. Some info about everything so far under the cut!

-Charlie is a lot more menacing in this AU, as I imagine her personality is a lot more like Michael from The Good Place. She’s still fairly cheery and seems kind, but she’s willing to remind others of who she is.

-Charlie started the Bed and Betterment Project as a way to see how far sinners could go to get better and improve, or if that’s even possible. This was mostly just something for her own entertainment, but as she gets used to the members of the project she comes to see that maybe they can actually improve, and thus she changes her sights towards redemption and she becomes a bit more optimistic as the show goes on

-Charlie has very unorthodox ways of trying to get the members of the project to rehabilitate by tempting them with their worse vices and making them relieve traumatic events, hoping it’ll push them forward (or perhaps over the edge.)

-Vaggie’s identity as an exorcist is already known by the denizens of hell, as well as by Charlie. In fact Charlie uses that to her advantage, Vaggie taking in the position of the ultimate bodyguard. Her character arc would be largely focused on her becoming her own person, gaining her own hobbies, and loving herself.

-All the exorcist wear mask that cover their true heavenly features, as do Charlie and Lucifer. Adam is the only one who doesn’t really need a mask, but he prefers to wear it.

-Speaking of Adam, he is much more intimidating in this AU, being a bit more serious but still coming off as affable and laidback, maybe even a little dumb. But despite his hedonistic tendencies, he still is a force to be reckoned with and can be quite threatening when he wants to be.

-Husk doesn’t have wings anymore. I believe they served no purpose, and instead he is slinky! His limbs and neck can extend to incredible lengths, as a reference to his looseness. And while he doesn’t immediately look like a magician like he did in his previous design, he can still do plenty of magical things in a similar fashion to the Cheshire Cat, being able to disappear and reappear really wherever, but he hardly utilizes this ability anymore.

-Alastor I figured could do with a neat little makeover, both in his casual appearance and in his demon form. I’ve gotten rid of his weird technical stuff and have decided they are instead crooked and sharp antlers he can spawn from wherever. Just as well he can control various radio signals and even create static sound or high frequency screams from his jaws, very much inspired by an elk’s cry.

-I’ve also changed Alastor’s backstory, but that’s something for a different piece.

-Wanted to lean into the blaxploitation inspiration of Valentino, as well as find a good balance of conventionally attractive and gross. I imagine whenever he’s about to say or do something particularly nasty, he pukes up maggots before hand to show off his vile nature.

-Not featured here, but I have ideas for Vox and the seraphims as well, but I’ll save that for another sketch page.

[blitzor0de0]

The jealous St Peter prompt caught my eye. Especially the idea of him wrapping his wings around redeemed!reader, so I have a suggestion, instead of jealous St Peter, how about protective St Peter?

Maybe Lute confronts redeemed!reader and it gets ugly? The confrontation possible brings up redeemed!reader's pstd, maybe even making them think they were going to be killed again, only for St Peter to appear with Sera/Emily, and he just wraps his wings around them, blocking out the chaos around them, comforting them with soft words and kisses.

I have no excuse for not putting this out sooner I've just been refixating on obey me </3 but this was rlly fun to write despite writers block eating my ass

listened to way too much blur and gorillaz doing this

cw: ptsd, fluffy, I forgot how to write mid way through, reader is always going through it aren't they, biblical Peter, reader confesses finally, kiss!!! Emily cucking lowkey

word count: 1.5k

part 1 part 2 part 3

Safe & Sound (Saint Peter x Redeemed!Reader)

You were just minding your business, you swear you were! Delivering a parcel to Emily. But it wasn't supposed to go like this??

Backed into a wall in the Plaza, the package clutched to your chest. Your mind was swirling with emotions as your heartbeat rapidly increased, finding it harder to breathe.

Former lieutenant of the exorcists, highly feared amongst sinners, yet highly respected amongst the blind sighted angels. You had already known Heaven was a lie at that first meeting, seeing how all the higher ups hadn't a clue about the exorcisms down in Hell. If angels could fall regardless of their ‘sin’ why wouldn't a sinner be able to redeem themselves?

The logic of Adam and Lute was incredibly flawed, and since yours and Pentious’ arrival in Heaven, you had felt a murderous gaze upon you each time you left your home.

It wasn't difficult to tell it was Lute, but since Adam's death you could tell she was a little lonely despite trying to avoid her gaze at every chance you got. She was always quite outspoken in the few times you met her, but the quietness of the Plaza, and Heaven in general after Adam's death.. The silence was borderline deafening.

But today, Lute must've decided enough was enough, if she couldn't kill you, she would gladly find a way to send you back to Hell.

“You filthy scum.” She scowled, venom lacing her words. She wasn't secretive about this confrontation either, causing a small crowd to quickly appear around the two of you, mimicking a petty school fight.

But this wasn't a fight, it was a one sided dispute.

You couldn't bear to face Lute, her mask being too much of a trigger to stare at for too long, especially in a situation such as this. You opted for clenching your eyes shut, but this only infuriated the angel more.

“I have lost EVERYTHING because of you sinners… Adam. My job. My subordinates. My fucking arm. How did you do it, huh? You and that snake you both made it up here. What sort of magic did Lucifer pull, huh?”

You felt your mind spin, knees going weak as you fought to keep yourself upright, lip quivering as tears threatened to spill as you gained the courage to speak.

“..He didn't do anything. It was just as Charlie told you all… It's just rehabilitation, Sir Pentious sacrificed himself for us all, I just wanted to better my soul..” God you were about to cry, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Bullshit.” Before Lute could threaten you further, some gasps and whispers emerged from the audience. You dared open your eyes, peering behind the Executioner to see the commotion, only to be faced with the two Serafim parting the crowd.

You gasped, causing Lute to finally turn around. With Adam gone, Lute didn't really get a ‘get out of jail free’ card, so the growing look of fear upon her features was evident.

Sera was quick to whisk Lute away as Emily held your arms gently as all you could do was crumble to the ground, tears finally being free to fall.

You couldn't exactly understand all what Emily was saying, everything seemed like ringing in your ears, but you appreciated Emily's attempt to ground you.

“Oh, Peter there you are!” Emily gasped, turning to face the angel who had a worried expression upon his face.

The ever so smiley angel for once held a look of disgust towards the crowd still whispering and murmuring about your fragile state.

“I got here as soon as I could.. Are they okay??” He seemed panicked, he'd never been in a situation like this, especially with someone he cared so much for. He couldn't think straight.

“I'm not sure..” The Serafim replied, “They haven't responded to me once, I'm not even sure if they can hear me at all.. You two are..” She hesitated, “close, you should deal with them, I'll see what I can do about the crowd..” She frowned, rubbing Peter’s shoulder comfortingly before grabbing the parcel and approaching the crowd.

Peter on the other hand unveiled his wings without a second thought, shielding you from the looks and whispers. Giving you a little bit of privacy was the least he could do right now.

“Hey.” He spoke softly, almost in a cooing manner, caressing your face as if you were made of porcelain.

In a room of a thousand people, you would be able to recognise every aspect of Peter’s being. His voice, his scent, his touch.. Everything. With the delicate caress upon your cheek, you'd be foolish to not know who it was, even in such a fragile state.

Still, you couldn't bear to look up at him. Though he had seen you in such a state before, your consciousness of the situation as opposed to your exhaustion from the previous time weighed on your shoulders.

To acknowledge his presence, you simply leaned into his touch. Your ears were still ringing, probably for the better since the whispers and chatter amongst the slowly dispersing crowd weren't doing you any favours.

Peter gently lifted your head up to face him, a soft, yet pained smile upon his face. You wanted to look away so desperately, but the way he looked at you so tenderly, you couldn't stand to pull your gaze away. A shaky “I'm sorry..” left your lips before you could realise it.

Peter gained a small sense of déjà vu from that, you always did seem to apologise for things that weren't even remotely your fault.

“Don't be silly. It's not your fault. You're safe now..Okay?” You nodded slowly, taking his words in. “Lute’s being dealt with by Sera and,” He glanced behind him “everyone else is more or less gone. You wanna stay here or move somewhere else?” Just at the thought of moving, an ache spread through your legs, the weakness growing once again.

“Here please.” You replied, reaching up to turn Peter's face towards yours, you needed his attention, his gaze, his essence. He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your nose.

“I thought she was going to kill me..” You murmured, finally regaining some stability. “I.. I couldn't do it all over again.. I didn't exactly think there was an afterlife in the first place.. let alone the possibility of dying twice.. I don't think God would approve of me dying a third time.. right?”

Peter grew silent, what could he possibly say to that. To be frank, when he was alive, he had a tumultuous relationship with his belief. Of course he believed in Jesus’ word, but he was also one of the first to betray him. Being disowned from Heaven before he had even passed. How he managed to get up there and still be held in such high regards by the Lord still surprised him centuries later.

Noticing his prolonged silence your eyes widened slightly, “That was a joke, I swear.. Peter..?”

Shaking his head he snapped out of his thoughts, “Oh! Of course it was, right!.. Either way, I think I'd be able to convince God to keep you around, I am an esteemed patron saint after all!” He winked.

After such a traumatic experience, you had cracked your first smile of the day which only caused Peter to mirror a smile right back at you.

“I feel like I'm always thanking you for looking out for me. You're so pure of heart, it's no wonder I fell for you-” You paused, realising what you said.

You and Peter had shared many intimate moments together, kissed on many occasions and even slept in the same bed together but you two had never established any actual feelings or relationship, until now it seems.

You panicked “Wait Pe-”

“I love you too.” He cut you off, stars in his eyes. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he finally confessed.

Oh.

Your shoulders relaxed as you breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool.. Wait! No! Erm I love you, oh I'm such a mess just kiss me.”

With a laugh, Peter gladly obliged, pressing a small teasing kiss to your lips before indulging in all his sins with an intimate kiss.

You wanted to savour this moment forever, Peter's hands cupped your cheeks as he pulled you impossibly close, the scent of his lightly floral cologne infiltrating your senses, quickly changing from intimacy to desperation — fearing as if this kiss may be your last.

Neither of you wanted to part, continuously pulling away for a split second before either one of you pulled the other in for ‘just one more’.

Though, the unfortunate parting would come from an awkward throat clear from the younger serafim.

“Um..Guys.. Super! Happy for you two but.. You're still in public..” Emily smiled down at the two of you.

Flushed and breathless, the two of you blinked up towards her before her words finally dawned on you.

“Oh.. Oh my, Emily I'm so sorry. Um!! Peter let's go!” You rushed to stand, pulling Peter up with you who’s uniform looked a little dishevelled, bowtie lopsided as well as some hair stuck to his forehead. He was both literally and figuratively on Cloud 9.

Emily could only giggle at the sight of Peter, “I'm glad you're feeling better, have fun you two lovebirds.” She called out as you and your now boyfriendddddd departed.

[silviakundera]

Now that the final SoKP episodes have passed thru my eyes... Things I miss from the novel:

* Sorry but Jiang Xuening should have killed You Fangyin's murderer with her own hands.

* Jiang Xuening becoming obsessed with Xie Wei's cooking, such that she loves to quietly hang out in the kitchen with him whenever there's a break in the scheming. It's their safe space.

* Jiang Xuening going from being in the palace and part of the target/victims of the rebellion in Life 1 to being one of the financial backers of it in Life 2 and accompanying their fighting forces as they move up through the country as Xie Wei outsmarts the emperor & Xue family & Lord Pingnan's forces at the same time. Spending her 2 years away building the capital needed to help spearhead the rescue of the princess and then go to fuck up the emperor who sent his sister a letter to end her life for the benefit of the country.... (chef's kiss)

* The glorious revolution and making the royal family kill each other to save themselves in order to demonstrate the type of people they are

* Jiang Xuening moving into Kunning Palace at the end, as basically the unofficial minister of finance. She ended up in the same place at the end, but hearts & minds are changed and so the result is different

* Jiang Xuening putting the pieces together that the princess died in the 1st life due to her pregnancy & the emperor cutting ties (intrigue!) Team Fuck The System helping her safely give birth to her son, who she loves despite his origin. Our fav lesbian never has to get married to another dude and can just chill with her son, the cabinet of ministers, and her Ning Ning (with psycho husband in tow, but hey nobody's perfect 😂). Using her power to spread schools for women's literacy with Xie Wei terrifying the detractors into submission.

* When they try to use the Jiang family in the capital to threaten XW and he's like, so what? I was gonna pay back those bastards next for Ning'er so you're saving me time lmaaaaaaoooo

* Speaking of which tbh I prefer the lack of a last ditch bandaid on the Jiang family relationship. She's let all of the pain of the past go and isn't personally seeking to take anything away from them in this life... but she is just done with it. Dad is nicer but he's let his wife behave like this and has been mostly hands off. Feels sorta like Story of Minglan to me - letting the favoritism & emotional abuse happen while playing nice guy. In both novel & drama, he spends years not protesting how Jiang Xuening is cast as the troublesome, uncouth, inferior model. But then the drama decides to rehabilitate them. (Though to be fair, even the drama was half-hearted on this 'wash', cause at the end she's mentioning they're not close and in the last scenes the parents are with the sister and Ning'er is with her found family.)

Improvements in the drama:

* I liked that we got to see Jiang Xuening tell multiple people that she loves XW before she gives him her answer. The angst of it being uncertain what conversations she's having with the princess & ZZ, the risk that she's going to abandon XW for being a hot mess... it made for good dramatic tension in the novel. But for the ROMANCE and creating a sense that the feelings he has are truly returned... It makes the ship better.

* The relationship that FL and ML had with the fake Xue Dingfei was richer. He was a standout for me.

* Yan Lin had a happier ending. He really stole my heart in this 2nd life and like Jiang Xuening I felt no need to see him haunted by his vile actions in another universe. It was emotionally satisfying in the drama to see him at peace. You got us all rooting for him.

* Consolidated the Lord Pingnan plot! We really didn't need to get into their factions and introduce more antagonists.

* Consolidated the You Fangyin romantic interests - no need for a marriage of convenience with 1 dude and then Xie Wei's buddy also carrying a torch.

* I felt like the drama gave Zhang Zhe more personality and I did find it delightful when he was "fighting" side by side with Xie Wei.

* Xue Shu (the Xue daughter) felt like a more developed, fully realized antagonist.

* As much as it "sings" in the narrative to have her end up in Kunning Palace with power in the government at the end of the novel (that was brilliant)... maybe emotionally it spoke to me more to see her initial wish from the start of her rebirth fulfilled. Her original reborn goal was to avoid reentering the palace & exit-out of everything to have a quiet life of peace. None of that power ever made her happy.

* Marriage scenes of the otp thank uuuuuuuuu

* No and actually.. After her royal marriage in the 1st life she definitely doesn't need another big celebration. And with her messed up family relationships and his dead parents... Them doing the marriage ceremony all on their own, cause it's another pact between them, makes a lot of sense and I dig it.

* The reverse callback of whispering while she's waiting for a kiss to say "I'm yours" instead of "get out" 👌👌👌

[albatmobile]

Cardinal Sins Chapter 7

𓅪 Living with your vigilante boyfriends for the past year has been amazing, well, almost. Butting heads, old wounds resurfacing and a deadly threat still looming overhead could threaten the sanctity of everything you've ever fought for. Will you finally overcome your tainted past and survive the trials and tribulations, or will your relationships and your faith crumble under the pressure?

Rated: M | 8.6k | TW: violence | Contains: lian content, interrogation, misunderstandings and a situation that changes everything fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist] Previous in Series: Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds

Chapter Seven: Landslide

Reuniting later that night with Lian is surreal.

The three of you are back at your place, something you can tell puts both men at ease, but you don’t have time to question it. 

She’s been forewarned that you’re still sick and recovering, but this doesn’t stop her from bounding up onto your bed to give you hugs and kisses. She spends the next half-hour showing you all the pictures she’s drawn in your absence and even fixes the messy braids her dad has bestowed upon you. 

“You know what?” she says suddenly. You watch as she carefully sets down the drawings on her dads shared nightstand, then anxiously tucks a stray piece of her inky black hair behind her tanned ear, “I thought you left me.” Your heart shatters. “I thought you weren’t coming back like my first mommy.”

Heart shattered??? No, your entire being is crushed to a pulp.

“Never, Lian,” you swear to her as you pull her in for as tight a hug as you can manage in your recovering state. “I promise I’d never leave you. Not willingly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m going to do everything in my power, you know, whatever it takes, to make sure our family stays together,” she nods lightly at your statement, though she begins to pick at the seams the duvet you’re under. “I like it when we’re all together,” you say with a genuine smile, poking at her lightly until she finally gives in and smiles back.

“Me, too.” The little girl squeezes you with all her might before Jason and Roy come in to dress your wounds. 

“Lian, go finish the picture you started for her the other day while we get her cleaned up, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.” 

Jason presses a kiss to her forehead as she slips down the tall bed.

They gently lay you down on the king-sized mattress and clean your healing wounds with delicate precision. You don’t know what to say and it seems like they’re clearly in the same boat.

“I should’ve been paying more attention,” you lament with a weary exhale. “I didn’t mean to put anyone through this shit.”

“Stop it. No one blames you,” Jason grumbles as he gently checks over your head wound. “It could’ve happened to any of us.”

“We all really missed you,” Roy cuts in before you can retort, hoping to cut off another pissing fest before it starts. His soft hands trail up and down your exposed legs comfortingly. “It was really hard coping without you.”

Your brows furrow together, suddenly remembering how much Roy had been struggling so much before your accident.

“I’m sor-“

“Don’t,” Roy warns lightly. His light green eyes flash with an unreadable emotion briefly before he slowly goes back to trailing up and down your legs. “You don’t owe anyone an apology, baby.”

You’re in your comfy clothes, one of their over-sized shirts and your short, cotton shirt as you watch the two of them watching you. It’s like they’re scared to take their eyes off of you for fear of missing out on any more time with you.

“Besides,” Jason starts as he finishes off cleaning the wound from your feeding tube, “it’s not like we didn’t try to deal with shit while you were…”

You watch as he trails off, swallowing deeply before forcing himself to put the kit away. 

“Even if you didn’t, it’s clear that we need better coping mechanisms to be more supportive of each other as a family, anyway,” you say. “I was wanting to bring it up before… you know,” your hands wring together anxiously until Jason and Roy each take one into their grip and squeeze gently. 

“Of course, babe.”

“We hear you,” Roy says. The redhead leans down to kiss your hand delicately, then your lips, then Jason’s.

You bask in their presence for a while, simply glad to be back in their arms again.

Though you feel as if it’s been mere days, the idea that it’s been almost a month has steadily been eating into you. You can’t even begin to imagine how either of them are feeling after not having you be there for them for that long. The whole situation is so fucked and you know this is only the beginning of, well, everything. 

“We did end up talking about it a bit with Bruce,” Jason’s deep voice cuts through the quiet room. “Technically, I was ambushed into talking to him, but we really tried to work through our shit so we could be strong for you while you recovered.”

“That’s good,” you say with a smile, knowing he’s pushing himself to be open right now. Whatever talk they had must’ve worked at least somewhat.

“That and Roy made sure to keep up with his therapy,” Jason boasts in Roy’s stead, who bashfully ducks his head in response. 

This makes you smile even more.

“Even got Jay to join me for a bit one during one, baby,” Roy says with a wink, though it slightly lacks his usual enthusiasm. If you’re this worn out you can’t imagine how they must be feeling. “Maybe when you’re feeling better we could all do a group session.” Logically, you know he’s talking about group therapy, however, your body suddenly feels the weight of going nearly a month without sex. You can’t help the heat that stirs across your cheeks at his words, something he notices with an easy smirk. “Calm down, princess. Jaybird’s outlawed sex for at least another week.”

You pout. “So this means I’m barred from the field, too?”

“How can you even think about shit like that when you were still a vegetable this time yesterday?” Jason says as he comes back into the room and joins the two of you on the bed.

“I resent that description,” you retort, glaring at him half-heartedly as he snuggles up beside you.

“Resenting the truth never did anyone any good,” Jason says. He looks pointedly your way before placing a chaste kiss against your still blushing cheeks. “And you need bed rest for at least a few days before you can even think of training again, let alone getting back out there.”

“Not to mention, you still need to process everything that just happened,” Roy begins as he lightly rub at your shoulders. “Believe me, Jason and I wish we’d done the same when we went through all of our shit.” 

Jason concurs, “You really don’t want to blow past this now and pay for it later, babe.”

You know they’re right, but you only have one thing on your mind…

“It’s hard when all I can focus on is this fucking case,” you say with a sigh.

It’s always been abundantly clear that time’s never guaranteed and can’t help but feel like you’re steadily running out of time to uncover the mystery. Not to mention, you want to act on the visions you’d seen while you’d been unconscious, though you can’t deny you’re somewhat hesitant to follow them after the shit-show that happened last time you did.

“Well, focus on healing first. Roy and I have continued looking into leads for the court,” Jason says. Meanwhile, his hands begin to trail over the areas of your body that Roy isn’t currently touching until you feel absolutely pampered.

“You have?” you ask and they nod in response. It’s what happens next that lets you in on the fact that they found something. They look at each other, not just a normal look. No, this look 100% reads like they’re wondering if they should tell you what they’ve found or not. You squint your eyes at Jason, then at Roy. You’re not going to give them the choice. “Tell me what you found,” you demand, leaving no room for argument- or, so you think.

“You should take it easy for at least today,” Roy argues gently. Now, they’re both look at you with evident concern.

“I will,” you say, smirking when they seem to relax, “after you tell me the lead.”

Jason huffs, rolling his eyes in what you know is thinly veiled amusement. As much as he claims to hate your stubborn nature, you know he also secretly loves it.

They stay quiet for another beat before Roy goes to grab his laptop from the living room.

Jason’s eyes have yet to leave the side of your face, so you shift to face him, still in his arms. “I missed you,” your name leaves his lips as a breath, “so fucking much.”

You curl further into him, reveling when he pulls you in for a soft kiss. It’s chaste and gentle, yet you can’t help but curl your toes at the intimate contact.

“Jason,” you whisper once you pull away. 

Your half-lidded eyes meet his own briefly before you’re pulled back in. Though he’s being remarkably gentle, he dares to deepen the kiss, leaving you to moan gently against his smooth lips. 

“You almost done over there, etai yazi?” You hear Roy ask as he makes his way back to the room. “Oh, damn,” Roy sputters at the sight that meets him. His verdant eyes glint mischievously as he comes upon the two of you tangled together in your sheets. “What happened to waiting a week, Jay?”

Jason regrettably pulls away, though his calloused fingers remain caressing your jawline. It’s as if he’s debating pulling you back already.

“Guess I couldn’t help myself,” Jason replies, his deep voice reverberating every molecule of your being.

In an instant, Roy drops the laptop at the edge of the bed before climbing over to join the two of you. The redhead kisses at your shoulders before maneuvering your head to the side to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss that you have no choice but to smile into. He pulls away with a smirk, wiping your wet lips with his thumb before carefully leaning over you to give Jason an even more obnoxious kiss.

You can’t help but laugh, feeling like everything’s finally how it’s supposed to be for once. “I love you both so much,” you sigh and nuzzle against their protective embrace.

The three of you know you only have so long before Lian comes back, leaving you to get back to business quickly. This time, they don’t take as much convincing before they spill everything.

“We have a lead on a guy who may know something about The Court,” Jason says. “We don’t know his name, but we know that he hangs around the some shitty bar by the harbor.”

Roy interjects, “And that the dude has an owl tattoo on his chest.”

“Say he likes to act like a hardass, but underneath, he’s just another Bristol cuck. Shouldn’t take too much to get information about the next Court meeting out of him.”

You mull the information over in your head but can’t help but go back to how they got the information.

“Who told you about him?”

They both look instantly guilty.

Bingo.

You sigh, feeling an argument coming on. Well, either that or a headache. “I thought you were both done with that drug lord shit. You promised me to drop all those contacts when we made things official, did you not?”

They both look guilty enough that you already have your answer.

Roy speaks first, “We did, baby. You’re right and we feel really bad about it but-“

“The circumstances were dire,” Jason finishes right where Roy left off. “You weren’t gone, but you weren’t here. We sat around for weeks not knowing if you’d,” he sighs as if unable to finish his sentence. 

“We didn’t know if you’d ever wake up, baby,” Roy laments as he moves to take one of your hands into his own. 

For a moment, you think about pulling away from him, but you don’t. Regardless, you’re still pouting and your displeasure over the whole situation is very much evident.

Soon, Jason’s taking your other hand into his own. No one says anything for a moment, something you’re grateful for. The past day has been a lot to deal with mentally, this added on to it is like the icing on top of the cake.

“Well, now I know neither of you are going to give me shit for tagging along.”

Checkmate.

They glance over at each other and you watch the brief conversation they share through their eyes alone. Finally, they look back at you.

“Fine, but you’re not coming in,” Roy answers for both of them.

“I have to stay in the car?!” you question incredulously. 

Un-checkmate.

“Babe.” Jason rubs gently at your hand in lieu of a further response.

A beat, then you answer. “Fine,” you agree, albeit pettily.

You hear her determined patter before you see her. Seconds later, Lian rounds the hallway and into your room with her picture triumphantly displayed in front of her.

“Look!” 

Without warning, she leaps onto the bed to shove the paper in front of your face. 

Your eyes cross as you stare at the image that’s now three inches in front of your face. You gently take it from her hands with a smile and place it on your lap to get a better look. The figures are crudely drawn, but it’s clearly a picture of you and her daddies at a tea party. Hearts and flowers, coupled with a random sun in the corner, grace the page, leaving a thrumming warmness to fill your chest.

“Thank you, chickie,” you say, causing her to giggle at your nickname for her. “I’m going to keep this with me forever.” At this, you motion her over and she gently settles in your lap so you can kiss her forehead. 

You never made art for your parents, let alone received anything like this from Lian before. It warms your heart in a moment where you feel entirely vulnerable, weak. Through this picture alone, your little girl manages to make you feel important and loved. The good outweighs the bad and you find yourself feeling stronger through her tenacious presence alone. 

“I’ll make you some more, mommy. I’m a really good drawer and I used all my new colored pencils to make it extra pretty for you,” she babbles on about her drawing process, along with how Grandpa Alfred got all the new art supplies for her, while she’s in your arms. 

Meanwhile, Jason and Roy look at the scene in front of them like it’s the cutest damned thing they’ve ever seen.

“I love it so much. Definitely makes me feel a lot better.” She beams at that. Your words are simple, but you hope they convey just how much it means to you. You place the drawing on the bedside table, mindful of your injuries and the little girl, before addressing her, “Wanna stay and hang out with mommy and daddies? We can do whatever you want.”

“Really?!” she exclaims, bouncing in your lap. You wince slightly at the movement and exhale shakily in response. Roy joins you on the bed to collect her into his own lap so she can’t hurt you on accident. She pouts a bit at the recent development, “I don’t want you. I want mommy.”

Roy gasps, pretending to be hurt when she tries to crawl back over to you, “Etai yazi, you’re hurting dad’s feelings.”

“I don’t giffa duck,” Lian attempts to curse as she squirms out of his hold. The kid is nearly home free when Jason scoops her up.

“Mommy is hurting, remember?”

“But, daddy,” she pouts in Jason’s arms.

“No cursing either,” he says.

“I didn’t!” she exclaims.

“Lian,” he warns her with what she refers to as his ’scary eyes.’

She huffs, crossing her arms in his hold, “Fine.”

Jason can’t help but smile a bit, though he quickly schools it so she doesn’t get the idea that cursing is funny. See, situations like this just prove that being an adult sucks. A five year old incorrectly cursing like a sailor? Shit’s fucking funny. Can you laugh at it? No, because then you’d be a bad parent, encouraging bad behavior. See? Sucks.

“Be gentle,” Jason reprimands her lightly as he places her back on bed. 

You open your arms and she slowly crawls over to cuddle between you and her dad. This time, she treats you like she treats her favorite blankie, petting you softly in apology with little kisses on your hand.

“I’m sorry,” she pouts again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She’s adorable.

You smile softly before assuaging her worries, “It’s alright, chickie. So, what would you want to do tonight?”

After it’s been decided that Lian wants to watch the new Superman show, Jason sets about creating a tea party very similar to the one in her cute drawing. He leaves and quickly returns with a tray filled with steaming tea cups and snack cakes that make your stomach grumble. Before you can try to reach for them, Jason shoots you a pointed look as he reveals the hidden bowl of soup behind them.

“You heathens be careful, alright?” Jason warns. “I’m not cleaning these sheets again.”

However, Roy just snorts and digs into the tea sandwiches with fervor with Lian soon following in his example.

You, on the other hand, are supposed to be on a liquid diet for the next few days while your body slowly gets used to you incorporating solid foods back into your diet. This means that soup and tea are all you get. It doesn’t make your cravings go away in the slightest, however. You watch enviously as Roy and Lian scarf down the snack cakes that are calling your name.

“Maybe if I just have a little bite,” you try, but Jason just hands you the soup he’d made from scratch with Lian for you. During which, Roy had been cuddled up against you while you dozed in and out of consciousness.

“Let’s just stick to soups and smoothies for at least another day, babe,” Jason insists and rubs your palm gently as if to apologize. “It hasn’t even been 24 hours since you woke up.” He holds a distant look in his dark green eyes, reminding you of the pain you’d caused in your absence.

You pout, crossing your arms petulantly as you allow him to feed you. The soup is flavorful yet gentle on your upset stomach. 

“Do you like the soup, mommy?”

Your heart fills with warmth as the liquid slides down your sore throat. 

“It’s amazing.” You uncross your arms to ruffle lightly at your hair. “You’re an incredible soup chef,” you praise her.

“I’m the best soup chef in the whole entire world,” Lian agrees. She goes to retaliate by ruffling your hair, too but Roy holds her back, nearly spilling his food on the duvet in the process.

Jason shoots him a glare that begs him to fuck up the clean sheets, but Roy’s too busy reminding Lian to be gentle to notice. You, on the other hand, drink in the adorable sight as Jason offers you another spoonful.

“Thank you guys,” you say genuinely. “For all of this. It feels good to be back.”

“Feels good to have you back,” Roy responds.

“And let’s keep it that way,” Lian adds sassily with an adorable pout you know she’s picking up from you. 

Cute.

“I promise.” And you mean it. 

You refuse to let anyone come between you and your family ever again. 

Not this time.

•••

You haven’t been sleeping well ever since the coma. 

It seems like every time you shut your eyes, the visions that you can’t make sense of are growing stronger and stronger. It’s getting to the point that you’re lucky to catch three hours of sleep, if that. Regardless of the lack of sleep, you’ve been doubling down on recovery and training. You’ve worked hard enough that you’ve not only made some insane progress in your overall healing but also in getting back in the field.

Yes, you’d been in a coma but you weren’t crippled. Far from it, in fact.

With Lian being off with Alfred for your bi-weekly date night, it was something neither had any logical reason to refuse. Especially not after you’d voiced feeling left out on missions. 

This is how you end up a week and a half later at the sleaziest dive in Gotham- The Stacked Deck.

The brick building itself is completely rundown, complete with a flickering neon sign gracing a dented pole that someone had obviously run into a few decades prior. Outside, C-list villains and gangs of motorcyclists loiter around the weed-covered, decrepit parking lot. 

Roy insists on taking the minivan so you can sit this one out, something you and Jason fight against, after all, it would only draw unnecessary attention to your crew. Eventually, Jason concedes, which is how the three of you end up cramped into the busted minivan sans a license plate. 

When you pull up, all eyes easily fall on the out-of-place vehicle, though everyone goes back to minding their business as soon as Hood and Arsenal emerge in full uniform from the beat-up mom car.

They’re on a mission to find out any information they can on the Court’s whereabouts from the contact they’d tracked down while you’d been in a coma. He was the only possible tie they could find to the elusive owl society, but, luckily, he’d been described as the type to squeal. 

You, on the other hand?

Yes, you’re donning Cardinals vinyl red garb. However, you’ve still been banished to the car. You sigh as you lean up against the peeling window tint. Part of you wonders why you begged to come along if all you were going to be doing was sitting in a locked car. Hell, even dogs have more rights than this shit, you think bitterly. 

It’s hot as fuck outside even though it’s well past midnight and you sincerely regret your decision to suit up. You wait a few more minutes in the heat before you give up. Luckily, the shitty car is old enough to have window cranks, so you’re able to crack the window a bit without the keys. This minuscule action, however, ends up drawing more attention than you’d expected. Okay, no worries, you tell yourself as you see movement coming closer out of the corner of your eye. Just play it cool.

You remain facing forward, refusing eye contact with a bulky-looking dude that sidles up and knocks on the window you’re attempting to crank shut as nonchalantly as possible.

What the fuck is wrong with men?

You keep staring at the dashboard in front of you and try to ignore them, but the man keeps knocking and is soon joined by his gaggle of friends.

“Guess I missed the Halloween memo, huh, sweetheart?” the burly man says, tugging at his leather vest. He then throws the cigarette in his mouth to the ground and stomps it out in, what you assume is supposed to be, a menacing action, but you merely roll your eyes under your mask.

The eye roll stops as soon as your eyes land on the huge owl tattoo that peeks out from behind his ratted white shirt.

Holy shit. There’s no way…

This is the dude Jason and Roy are after! 

He landed right in your fucking lap and you know you’d be stupid to let this opportunity pass. Just because you aren’t necessarily in the mood to pummel these chauvinistic pigs into the pavement, but it doesn’t mean you won’t.

His buddies exchange a few words, but everything said is ultimately muffled by the glass separating you.

You can’t imagine what’s holding your partners up, but you know that you can’t wait much longer. You refuse to risk your only lead when you know damn well that you can handle these punks on your own.

You’re soon startled from your thoughts when one of the assholes shoots a bullet and ends up shattering the side mirror.

“That’s it,” you mutter in frustration as you unlock the door. You slowly slink out of the car, closing the door effortlessly behind you as the men take in your shorter form.

“I’m sorry,” one spouts as you slowly twist one wrist, then the other to stretch them out, “is it supposed to be scary? Because all I can see is you shaking that ass on me in that tight number you got on there, girl.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the closest man to the left of your target snorts. “No parking zone sweetie, but you can park here,” the man gestures to his dick with a sinister smirk, “all night long.” 

The men all get a decent laugh, thinking their joke is so fucking original or something, but you feel like gagging and noton account of the putrid smell only dives like this can produce.

“Ever seen a gun this big before, doll?” the man with the owl tattoo finally chirps up again as he taunts you with the gun that ruined Roy’s car.

You round on him slowly, putting more distance between yourself and the car, tilting your head ever so slightly as you do. 

Nervous laughter erupts from the group like they can’t tell whether to take you seriously or not. Guess they’ll find out soon enough. 

“I don’t need guns,” is all you respond.

The men around you ‘ooo!’ as they punch each other jokingly and close in on you, but you don’t give them a chance to do much more before you attack.

You start with the men closest to you, crossing your arms to grab them before uncrossing them and sending the men’s heads into each other’s with a loud thump! They crumple to the ground in front of their awe-struck friends. When the remaining men finally look up from the men on the pavement to you, you shrug nonchalantly. You don’t allow them any time to recoup before you rush forward and knock two more to the ground through the sheer force of your body alone.

Without missing a beat, you spin around to roundhouse kick one of the bikers who’d been attempting to tackle you from behind. He stumbles to the ground where you deliver a swift kick to his head, knocking him out instantly. The other two men on the ground, you deliver the same fate as you duck and dodge nearly all the haymakers being sent your way.

Five down, five to go.

Your new focus is on dodging the barrage of bullets that are now being sent your way. You flip onto and over the roof of the car to gain some sort of barrier as you wait out their reload.

They start yelling, whether it’s directed at each other or you, you’re unsure. One sound you are sure of is the sound of an empty round.

When you hear the tell-tale signs of empty clicks, you storm out from behind the car, taking the men by surprise as you send the biker closest to you barreling into the distracted group of reloading men. Everyone, except for your target with the owl tattoo, scatters to the ground like bowling pins.

It’s then that your target takes aim at you. 

You’d been expecting as much and seamlessly do a backflip, then cartwheel into a front flip to avoid his bullets. Once you come upon him, he’s out of bullets once again. You use this as the perfect opportunity to kick the offending weapon out of his beefy hands.

“Who the hell are you?” 

Instead of responding, you sock him in the face with a jab, followed by an uppercut, before spinning around and crouching to duck the fist of one of the remaining men. The fist originally sent your way ends up landing against your target and sends the man with the owl tattoo sprawling backward.

You waste no time in using your crouched position to stick your leg out and trip the man. As soon as gravity takes hold, you pop back up, spinning around to land a sickening punch on his face before he can make contact with the dirty ground. 

You’re panting slightly as you stand.

The three remaining men you’d knocked to the ground mere moments prior were back up and on their feet. It seems they realized guns were futile and resorted to switch blades. 

Pathetic.

Your body moves with practiced ease as you manage to avoid their blade’s short reach. Before they can even realize you’ve retaliated, you grab the underside of two men’s wrists and push them backward with enough force to send them tumbling. If there was any doubt before about you not being physically ready to go out in the field again, you know it’s been sufficiently crushed with how you’re handling the situation at hand. Not that any of these men posed any sort of challenge outside of the sheer number they shared as a group. 

The only standing man growls anomalistically as he snarls down at you, “You dumb fucking bitch.”

“No one’s ever accused me of being dumb,” you respond airily as you bolt to the side to avoid his heavy fists. You block his cross, sending back one of your own and managing to land directly on his dirty cheeks. 

“I’m gonna kill you!” he screams as he interlocks his hands over his head and rushes toward you to bring them down atop your head.

You don’t even try to stop him. No, you just step slightly to the side, leaving him off balance as his hands make contact with nothing.

From the corner of your eyes, you notice the man with the owl tattoo slowly crawling for the door to the bar.

That’s a no-no.

You’re playing too much. You know you need to stop fucking around and put an end to this dumb shit before your only lead can get away.

The determined biker lets out a war cry as he and the remaining two men charge at you. They get a few good hits on you, but ultimately, you knock them each out before bolting over to your escaping target.

His grubby hand is clasped around the door and threatens to open it. He eyes your advancing form with fear and falters slightly as he tries to turn the knob, but you’re on him too fast. Your heel makes contact with the door and its frame, effectively preventing the man from opening the door. His eyes follow up the shiny expanse of your leg, which you use as the perfect opportunity to throw his already weak form off balance. 

“Fuck!” He lands on the ground with a pained curse but you’re not letting him off the hook just yet. You pin him with ease and he soon gives up on struggling and moves into the bartering phase of getting your ass handed to you. “LET ME GO! What do you want?” he asks breathlessly. His bloodied face is evidently panicked as he attempts to look beyond your mask. “You want money? I’ll give you money! Name your price!”

You chuckle lowly, “I don’t want your fucking money. I want answers.”

“Answers,” he nods enthusiastically. “I got those. I got answers, sweetheart. I-“ 

You cut him off with a stark slap across his beaten face. “Let’s get one thing straight,” you growl, “I’m not your sweetheart.” 

“You’re not!” he agrees enthusiastically. “You’re right.” He’s trying way too hard to be agreeable. It’d be funny if you weren’t thrumming with excitement for the information you were about to get. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Promise. Is that an option? Can we do that?” he babbles, practically squealing when you tighten your grip on him. “Please! Anything, just let me go,” he whines pathetically.

You lower yourself in one fell swoop so that your vinyl-covered is against his ear. “Ever heard of The Court of Owls?” 

He stops struggling in an instant, looking around with greater fear than before. Maybe everything Damian had said really was true…

“Are you trying to get us both killed?” The man looks up at you through his wince.

Your eyes narrow, disregarding the warning. 

“What do you know?”

•••

When Red Hood and Arsenal emerge a few minutes later, they find you leaning up against the car with one of your legs posted against it, surrounded by the knocked-out motorcycle gang. 

You notice them falter briefly in their step as they take in the scene

“The fuck happened out here?” Red Hood asks you incredulously. Meanwhile, Arsenal’s busy lamenting the shot-out side window and subsequent bullet holes in the car’s body.

“Someone pissed me off,” you reply simply.

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” Hood responds wryly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off as the three of you climb back in the car, “what took you guys so long, anyway?”

“We didn’t find The Court of Owl’s dude, but we did find an ex-Cadmus scientist, babe,” Arsenal says.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” The redhead nods, turning around in the passenger seat. His verdant eyes rake up and down your form greedily as he bites lightly at his lower lip without seeming to realize it. “You look good, princess.”

“Code names, Arsenal,” Jason warns, but even you voice your discontent.

“It’s just us in the car,” you come to Roy’s defense. “Should be alright, right?”

“Fine,” Jason gives in with a sigh. With this, he turns off his voice modulator before zipping out of the parking lot and onto the desolate road.

“Cool,” you say, meeting his eyes cheekily in the rearview. 

He rolls his eyes mirthfully before completing your inside joke, “Cool.”

You allow yourself to roll up your mask past your nose, regretting it when you catch a whiff of your b.o. and wince. “Gross,” you wince.

“Yeah, but what caused the grossness was hot, so it all kinda cancels out,” Roy says, tapping at his head. “That’s logic.”

“It’s… definitely something,” you snort when he reaches around his seat to smack you on the thigh.

“You sound just like Jason sometimes. I swear I’m dating two of him.” 

You stick your tongue out in response, but it only causes the redhead to unbuckle and stumble into the backseat to chase after it. You merely bat at Roy, offering him a chaste kiss instead. 

“So, did you guys leave the interrogation to me, or did you actually get any info?”

“You got the info for the court meeting?!” Roy asks, sounding impressed.

You hate how surprised they both seem. Like you’ve somehow been incapable in past interrogations when… oh, yeah, you were the only one getting answers. You don’t know if it’s because you haven’t been sleeping well recently or if you’re just coming down from the adrenaline of the fight, but all you can think about is how their response is straight bullshit.

“The information we came here to get? Yeah,” you reply as you shake your head in frustration. You can’t believe either of them, let alone their lack of faith in your abilities. “You know, I love how I keep having to prove my worth to you guys in the field, and by love, I mean hate,” you finish with a glare. 

Now, you have the information. What you still don’t seem to have is respect from your partners.

“Hey, that’s not what we meant at all.” 

You ignore Jason. “Just because I got hurt doesn’t mean I don’t have what it takes. Like you said,” you turn to Roy beside you, “it could’ve happened to any of us.”

“Baby,” Roy starts to caress your vinyl-clad arm, but you shake him off.

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. “No, baby. Not right now.” You sit up straighter in your seat, looking between Jason’s blank stare in the rearview and Roy’s concerned face beside you. “You guys believed in me, even when I didn’t, so why doubt me now? Why continue to make me pay for something caused by random chance when I keep proving-“

“You don’t have shit to prove to us,” Jason cuts you off, cooly.

You huff, crossing your arms and slinking back into your seat.

“What’s this actually about, baby?” Roy questions gently.

You’d been working your ass off to get back in the field, but you can’t deny you’ve been scared. You’ve had brushes with death before, but nothing like that. It was too close and maybe you’re the one doubting yourself. 

They seem to understand, though, at the very least with how supportive they’re being. Well, either that or your words and Connor’s have finally gotten through to them.

You feel Jason’s familiar gaze on you in the mirror but you refuse to meet it. 

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you finally admit.

Jason’s eyes flicker over to Roy in the rearview, finding his eyes already there to meet him. You follow their nonverbal conversation with your eyes, biting back the eye roll because you do honestly find the way they can communicate like that really cute.

“Like you said, you’re the one who ended up with the info,” Roy says as if it’s obvious. “You haven’t even been in the field for that long and you’ve definitely showed us up time and time again.”

Through the mirror, you watch as Roy’s eyes encourage Jason to say something.

After a beat, Jason clears his throat awkwardly. “You, uh, do really know how to hold your own,” Jason adds gracelessly. Regardless, Roy still nods encouragingly, leaving Jason to blush and turn his focus back toward the road. 

“Whatever you decide to do, baby, we’re here for you but don’t think for a second that you’re not cut out for this shit,” Roy looks at you pointedly, “because you are. You’re a badass, sexy,” his arms trail up the outside of yours, “intelligent, freaky as fuck programming mastermind-“ Roy trails off. “I forgot where I was going with that and now I’m just hard.”

You know he’s just trying to make you laugh, so you allow yourself to give in.

“I love you guys.” 

You’ve never felt so grateful to have the two of them by your side, especially right now, when you’re feeling so unsure of yourself and your abilities.

Pretty soon, you’re pulling up to the manor. As soon as you arrive, two of the tires pop. Alfred immediately gets to work right after he sends the three of you off to change into civies. Meanwhile, Bruce eyes the vehicle, well, what’s left of it, with distaste. He’s wearing his suit, though he removes the cowl when the three of you approach. 

“I have a loaner car for tonight, but feel free to keep it,” Bruce says as he looks over the lemon. “We’re having the luncheon this Sunday, so you can just bring it back then.”

Roy glares. “My girl runs just fine, thank you very much.” He runs his hands protectively over the ruined exterior as if to prove it.

Bruce moves on swiftly after this, obviously not understanding the bond between Roy and his shitty minivan. “So, I take it your interrogation tonight went well?”

“Technically, two interrogations,” Roy corrects.

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “You guys never told me what you figured out.”

“You led your own investigation?” Bruce turns to you, seemingly impressed by the recent revelations.

Jason crosses his arms. “She’s really good at it, as it turns out,” Jason says with a hint of malice. You can’t tell if he’s salty thinking about your intimidation over Deadshot, or if he’s protecting you from Bruce’s comment on account of how you reacted to his and Roy’s comment in the car earlier. “She’s more than capable of holding her own even after everything.”

Okay, definitely the latter. You can’t help but beam at his support, finally feeling like you’re on the same team again.

“What, like it’s hard?” you respond playfully. Bruce easily holds up his hands in faux-surrender, though looks thoroughly impressed. You turn to your partners before asking, “So?”

“Well, we found an ex-scientist from Cadmus in the bar being used as a footrest.” You can’t help but quirk a brow at Roy’s odd recap. “Told us that the Winter Rose Ivy sold carries a symbiotic protein, which she conveniently left out when you were beating her ass.”

Symbiotic?

Could that mean…?

Maybe your hunch over the origin of your visions in the subway tunnels had been right.

“The data I gathered during my own analysis of the stem you brought in from Cadmus seems to support that as well,” Bruce adds.

So, there was no doubt that the Cadmus scientist had been telling the truth.

“So, whatever they’re concocting is both water soluble and symbiotic?” That doesn’t sound good at all.

“Not to mention the stolen microwave emitter,” Roy says grimly. Before you can even ask, he shakes his head, sending his red hair sprawling in front of his eyes, “No, he doesn’t know where the machine is. Says he didn’t have access to that level of information but that another team was running hypotheses on the matter.”

“And you still don’t believe in killing these fuckers, Bruce?” the raven grumbles. Everyone turns to Jason. “Still think everyone deserves a second chance- mercy?” he scoffs. “We’re talking about a large scale attack on, well, who knows what and we’re just supposed to sit here and shove our thumbs up our asses until it comes? Why don’t we prevent-“

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now, Jason,” Bruce says tersely. 

“If not now, when?” Jason’s arms spread out like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “When millions of people are being murdered by The Court, no, by him.”

You gulp.

One look at Roy proves he’s ready to step in at any time should any issues arise, but Bruce is already walking away. He throws you the keys, which you catch easily as he tugs his cowl over his head.

“I refuse to sit here and debate ethics with a man who's killed for pleasure.” It’s cruel- blunt and Bruce’s words do nothing to stop the anger already brewing over in Jason. “I’d hoped being around her morals would’ve smacked some sense into you by now, but it’s clear you’re a lost cause.”

“I’m a lost cause?” Jason tries to act as if he finds the situation funny, but everyone can clearly see the tears pooling behind his emerald eyes.

“Please,” Bruce looks unimpressed, “there’s only so much redemption one man can accomplish before he diminishes it all with repeated, skewed antics.”

Roy steps in before Jason can manage a step forward.

“Yeah? Well, I refuse to sit here and take this hot and cold shit from you. You forgive me one day, are disappointed in me the next. You hold me at arm’s length for cleaning up the streets like you never could over some bullshit antiquated sense of morality. I am necessary evil, sure, but it doesn’t make any of the things you do any less evil either, Bruce.”

It’s not Bruce anymore when he smacks Jason across the face.

The resounding sound, coupled with your gasp, lingers as silence overtakes the room.

Seconds tick by. Maybe minutes, you’re not entirely sure.

Your body thrums with an intensity usually saved for battle. 

Everything’s fucked.

“This is not up for discussion,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. Well, it would leave no room if it were anyone but Jason. “You follow my rules or face the consequences.”

Jason laughs darkly, keeping his head turned from the original impact as his shoulders slowly shake before slowly turning to face his father again. “Still the same old Bruce, yeah?” Your eyes are still wide not quite believing what you’ve just witnessed. “Keep your fucking car. I don’t need shit from you. Never have, never will,” Jason spits.

With this, Jason spins on his heel and storms out of the cave. Roy makes to follow him, then stops. He opens his mouth, finger poised at the ready, but the words never come out. Instead, he just shakes his head, red hair flying in front of his face before throwing a dirty glare over his shoulder and following after Jason.

Your feet, however, remain planted.

“I always kind of hoped your ways would rub off on him,” he says with a light sigh. Bruce isn’t even looking at you, he’s just blankly watching after Jason’s retreating form. You don’t say anything, still completely stupefied by everything that transpired. “Just make sure his way doesn’t rub off on you. You’re better than that.”

You don’t recognize the man in front of you. Regardless, he seems similar enough to the descriptions Jason always warned you about and you never believed. You still can’t necessarily bring yourself to believe his words even still. Call it naivety, call it stupidity, call it excusing it all… but you feel frozen. It’s as if two completely different versions of Bruce are trying to combine into one right in front of your very eyes, yet your mind still resists their complete merge.

You’re shaking. Your entire body continues to thrum as if electricity is coursing through your veins as you just stand there. You want to leave, you want to comfort your love, you want to ask your dad why he- just why, but you just stand there. 

“If you’ve forgiven him once, surely you’ll forgive him again,” you say, but in a way, you’re asking. You need to know if he’d be able to drop you so easily for not following his code perfectly. You need to know if your place in the family is a conditional circumstance. 

You don’t want to know, but you need to. 

Would he really be able to keep you at arm’s length and all the other like he did Jason? 

“Forgiveness, when asked upon so many times, isn’t asking for forgiveness- it’s asking for acceptance,” he says lowly. “I refuse to give that to him.”

His cruel words finally spur life back into you.

You have your answer whether you like it or not.

Regardless of how Bruce would treat you, you know how Jason treats you. Even all those years ago when he disappeared, he was still there for you, still protecting you. You want to do right by Bruce, but you need to do right by Jason.

Bruce seems to think you’re leaving and makes to walk away but you stop him with a firm grip on his forearm. He looks down at the contact briefly, quizzically meeting your eyes. 

“So, per your words, Jason’s accepting this disgusting behavior from you? Because I can’t count how many times he’s told me he’s forgiven you, Bruce,” you say. The words are coming out of your mouth before you even realize it. “If you ever touch him like that again, especially in front of me, it won’t be his forgiveness you’ll be begging for.”

You place the Rolls Royce keys into the open palm of his gauntlet and pick up the minivan keys instead. 

Alfred’s already replaced both tires at this point and that’s good enough for you. You quickly help him remove the tire jack before peeling out of the manor garage, heart pounding intensely all the while.

When you pull around, Jason’s nearing the end of the manor driveway with Roy following closely behind. You can hear their loud voices as they traverse the infamous Wayne gravel that you yourself have stormed down, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. Roy looks pissed, Jason looks like he’s disassociating. 

Roy shoots you a grateful look when he notices you. Probably because he would’ve had to sneak back in for his metal baby later had you not pulled up in it.

What do you even say to Jason? “Sorry that the man I look up to…” No. 

You can’t.

You view Bruce in a different light after tonight- Jason as well. It makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. 

Logically, you know everything will go back to normal, that you’ll show up to the luncheon and Jason will avoid his father just as much as Bruce avoids him. You know that a month from now, Bruce will make a half-assed apology that devolves into him lecturing Jason over the same things and Jason will sit there and take it because, at the end of the day, he loves and looks up to that man as much as you do. Though Jason will never admit it, his actions leak it.

“I’m sorry. I understand what you mean now.” You go to say more, but he cuts you off.

“Enough,” Jason barks, leaving your mouth to click shut in an instant. Roy sits in the back, wanting to touch Jason, but he shrugs off his touch every time. He slinks down slowly in his seat, crossing his arms menacingly as he does. “Someone change the subject before I talk myself into going back there and starting an all-out war with the cunt,” he growls.

Change of subject? You can do that. You’ve had something on your mind for a while and, you can’t deny that you also want to get the slap out of your head. Regardless of your parent's carelessness surrounding you growing up, neither cared enough about you to ever lay a hand on you. Today honestly shook you to your core.

“I think that the symbiotic nature of the serum explains why I’ve been seeing all these visions,” you hesitate slightly before continuing. “It could also be the reason why I’ve been feeling so sick recently.”

“You’ve been feeling sick?” Roy questions slowly, almost cautiously. You already know he’s thinking back to the first pregnancy scare. Well, it’s about as good a time as any to tell them about the second scare, especially now that you think you know what caused it.

“When we were in those test tubes, I woke up. I heard what the scientists were saying.” Your face scrunches up as you try to remember as much of their conversation as you can. You sigh, “That there were two subjects in my tube.” You glance quickly in the rearview to see their shocked faces. “Obviously I thought, you know,” you trail off uncomfortably. “I took a pregnancy test, though. It came back negative, which just further proves I’ve already received a dose of their new serum or, at the very least, some sort of variation of it. If it causes me to see Joker’s thoughts, imagine what that could do on a wide-scale attack.”

Just like you thought, they both freeze up before acting way too nonchalant. 

“Oh.”

You can hardly keep yourself from rolling your eyes. “Guys, that’s not the point,” you huff. “I think it all has to do with the new serum. It’s possible that, at the dockyard last year, Poison Ivy had already sold them a stem and I was the lab rat, just like Two Face said my contract stated.”

“You’re saying you think your contract is back on?” Jason asks dubiously. You’re glad, at the very least, that he seems to be more present again.

You sigh, “I’m saying, I don’t think it ever ended.”

Having to deal with psychopathic killers hunting you down for a large insurance scheme was hard enough when it was just Joker, Two Face and your parents. Now Cadmus and, seemingly, The Court of Owls, along with Joker and his new lackey, was something entirely different.

How are you going to survive this again?

“They’re coming to collect what they never got, then,” Roy surmises. “It’s actually starting to somehow make sense. If they tested out the new serum on you at the dockyards, that would explain why I never felt strong effects like you did after being in the tube. Do you think it has to do with multiple doses?” Roy asks.

“That could explain why the effects of the injection at Cadmus seemed to strengthen my visions,” you say with a shake of your head as you pull into the apartment garage. “Whatever this concoction is, it’s extremely dangerous. Especially in their hands.”

“It’s him,” Jason says with disgust. “He wants control.”

“Or to drive people mad,” Roy supplies as he helps Jason out of the car. Jason surprisingly lets him and you lightly jog to catch up to their longer gait.  

Whether or not Roy was calling you crazy, you didn’t know. What you did know, however, was that you can’t deny how heavily these visions have weighed on your psyche.

“Well, if you both fully believe me now, then maybe it’s time we test my visions again,” you say. “We need to go back and collect a sample of the subway water. Maybe we’ll be able to find Joker’s accomplice, too.”

Anything to get the upper hand… You definitely don’t need a repeat of last time happening. Not when the enemies are this powerful and the stakes even higher.

You refuse to lose it all. 

You refuse to go down without a fight.

A/N: ik I said i'd upload this friday, but i had a really good day and wanted to share this early :D i'm thinking of changing my upload dates to mon/tues EST as a heads up too btw

be sure to check out my fic update for more info on what you can expect for this month :p

[next]  ||  masterlist || pinned || ways to support

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Sick Meghan Markle fails to show up alongside Prince Harry at Kevin Costner charity event by u/Winter-South-7448

‘Sick’ Meghan Markle fails to show up alongside Prince Harry at Kevin Costner charity event There is no way that the ILBW would miss this A-Lister event. So what happened?She was NFI? Kevin Costner is with WME and we know that Costner was very cool to the ILBW at last year's event, and presumably only invited the duo because WME put pressure on him to do so, because WME were trying to repatriate the Sussex's reputation at the time. However we know that WME has now thrown the ILBW to the wolves, because they declined to intervene to stop the hit-piece just published in The Hollywood Reporter. This year Costner may have said, or WME has suggested, Harry can come, but the ILBW is not invited. I suspect Costner in particular would have real trouble dealing with the ILBW's completely false and grasping persona. And it says a lot that Harry would go to Costner's event in those circumstances without her, in that he just doesn't care about her anymore, and wants to have his own life.She is about to launch her "gravely ill" project to gain sympathy? The ILBW has copied so much of what Catherine wears or does, and she has seen the worldwide respect and compassion for Catherine. Is she about to leak that she is actually fighting a life-threatening illness? Anyone who challenges that and calls it out at BS could look pretty awful, getting stuck into someone who is "ill".This is part of a planned rehabilitation of Harry's image? Timing is everything. Look at what else is happening right now. The Hollywood Reporter article which was scathing of the ILBW; the RF and William/Catherine publicly wishing Harry a Happy 40th Birthday; and lots of scathing articles where the ILBW is excoriated and Harry is just portrayed as her useful idiot. Could WME have decided they will stick with Harry, and are consciously cutting the ILBW loose to help rehabilitate Harry's image? One thing I will say, look at the pictures of Harry at Costner's event, he looks relaxed, happy, charming, very much like he looked before the ILBW entered his life. post link: https://ift.tt/MyTq3ip author: Winter-South-7448 submitted: September 21, 2024 at 04:01PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[mochi-munchies]

AU/Fic Idea: Ragnarok *Title Still in the Works*

This one has been in my brain for a while and I thought I'd just spew it out on my board just to get it out and not forget it. But anyway-

An AU where Ink and Error were the original menaces to the multiverse. As the two most powerful entities with the personalities of toddlers, they were fucking destroying everything, leveling entire AUs in their clashes and tantrums and impulses. Until the other deities finally had enough.

Core Frisk, Reaper, Life, Fresh and Gaster all get together and are like, "Yeah. We can't keep letting them do this, the multiverse is gonna break." So they devise a plot to get them to fight, and then when their balance of Destruction/Creation was at a sweet spot, took them by surprise and sealed them away. Error in the anti-void, and Ink in the Doodlesphere, where they are promptly put into a deep slumber as long as their balance is not disturbed. *1

Fast forward to present day with Nightmare and Dream having their little war. All the other entities aren't pleased with it, but are neutral to the conflict as they see it more as a childish spat.

Until it wasn't.

One day Nightmare takes it too far and his scheme threatens to actually destroy an AU, which immediately has Reaper, Frisk and Fresh flying in there like, "Nightmare stop. You have no idea what you're doing." But they're too late, the damage is done and the AU is destroyed.

So the outcodes are absolutely freaking out, and Dream and Nightmare are super confused like, "you guys have been watching us from the sidelines for hundreds of years?? Why tf do you suddenly care??"

"You morons! Do you have any idea what you've done??!? You disturbed the balance! They're gonna wake up..!"

Then cue Error air-dropping in and absolutely making a fool of everybody and their moms. Making Dream and Nightmare realize that, oh. They were not. In fact. Among the top of the food chain.

The rest of the story then going on about the brothers being forced to finally put their shit to an end and reconnect under duress while also dealing with two overpowered children. *2

*1 - Was also considering the idea of the whole 'putting them to sleep' part failing, unknowingly to the other gods. Leaving Ink and Error completely awake in their isolation- however, due to the connection of their balance, they can speak to each other not unlike with the Creators. Over the thousands of years of only having each other, in their loneliness they come to have a codependency and low-key errink feelings coming in.

When their balance is finally disturbed and their seals are unleashed, of course the first thing on their minds are mayhem and vengeance. But after letting out some steam, the next thing is to obviously find their other half. Something that the other gods are hellbent on preventing, fearing the return of the days when they ravaged the AUs endlessly in their feud.

So Nightmare and Dream are spending the majority of the fic learning to reconnect with each other as they try to reseal the two and prevent them from meeting. However, they also notice how their behavior seems to be incredibly strange compared to what the others described. And eventually, trusting their instincts as the guardians of feelings, they let Error and Ink meet, only to discover that the two were in love and not in fact looking to settle their ancient death match. Error and Ink vow to behave as long as the others dared not to interfere with them, etc. Cue happy ending.

*2 - another alternative version for the story is for Dream to teach Ink empathy (and low-key domesticate him) as he tries to reason with him, and at the same time learn to let the past go and accept his brother as he was, instead of hanging onto who he envisioned him to be before their fallout. And for Nightmare to learn to trust with Error (as well as rehabilitating him) after failing repeatedly at overpowering the other, and at the same time coming to accept vulnerability in his life again.

At first Dream fears Ink as a soulless being and subconsciously sees him as something inherently evil (just how he sees his brother's corrupted form as evil) however, as he peeks behind the curtain of Ink's behaviors, he comes to realize that is not the case, and starts to help Ink with his memory issues, his lack of empathy, his impulsiveness, etc. Also learning along the way that just because someone's nature (soullessness/corruption) was different didn't mean they were bad.

They get close, and Ink starts to cling to Dream. Connecting the emotional growth within him with the first person to actually have the patience to guide him and understand him like this, he starts to prioritize also being there to help Dream more so than having art binges and harassing Error. Oh, and they also end up falling in love BTW.

Meanwhile, Nightmare is getting his shit rocked by Error, struggling to compete with such a powerhouse and is honestly feeling fucked up bc this is the first time he's been so powerless after his corruption. He continues to use more and more low blows and playing on any and every weakness the glitch has- desperately trying to regain his dominance (which he has been using all this time as a feeling of protection).

Nightmare is low-key tweaking at this point, until he finally discovers a way into Error's hidey-hole. So of course he sneaks in with the intention of catching the maniac with his pants down. Only to peek in during one of Error's low moments.

And then Nightmare suddenly realizes how similar the two of them really were. This whole time he was picturing Error as this larger than life, unstoppable and ruthless pinnacle of violence. When in fact.. he was just another monster, just like he was. So, he starts changing tactics after that. Reaching out to Error in the way he wished someone reached out to him back then, and they come to slowly open up together and eventually just.. tumbling into a situationship.

In the end the other gods are really uncertain about just leaving the two to the apple twins- especially with the fear they might use them in their little war. But the twins have none of it, and even have a realtalk then and there to prove no grudges remained.

[sh1-n0bu]

Dear, Wriothesley (Genshin Impact, romance? fluff)

Do you like tea?? Like any kind of tea chamomile, jasmine, you name it. Have you tried any variation? Because if you haven't I would be more than happy to introduce some of it to you! Anyway, working as a warden must be tiresome. I hope you don't mind if I visit you sometimes. See you soon!

Your dear friend, Kintsugi

𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜! 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙪’𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚!

to: wriothesley from genshin impact

being the duke of the castle of meropide was a draining job. the title may make wriothesley sound like is a noble or a royal but in reality it wasn’t. he was just… very highly regarded in the justice system of fontaine. and the people loved him alongside the title and ranking, as much as they could.

keeping the inmates in line, providing them with a job that is both enough stimulating but would also make them reflect on the reason they were in the castle of meropide in the first place. not only that, but he has to keep himself safe, never show his back to anyone or get too comfortable. although in rehabilitation and relearning how to live, they were still inmates. they were here for a reason, whether they be a big crime or a smaller one.

at least wriothesley had a few things that can calm him down and reduce his stress. tea and his dear friend, kintsugi.

tea had a lot of healing and calming factors and the duke enjoyed a good cup of tea after a long day of putting the inmates into their places. only if his room wasn’t already infiltrated and the packs of tea he keeps in there being replaced with sigewinne’s own special tea. why the melusine hybrid insists on him trying at least one was completely lost on the poor overworked duke. he tried it once, for kindness’ sake, but nearly spat the drink back out when he tasted just how sweet the tea was.

his friend kintsugi, on the other hand, was much more softer with the inmates and sigewinne. they once snuck into his house at night — how in celestia’s name they were able to find where he lived, he didn’t knew — and threatened him to at least try to gulp down the melusine’s tea is a memory that lives rent free in his mind. remembering the moment where he opened his eyes with a shadow looming over him of his friend holding a comically large circus hammer as he let out an ear piercing screech made the duke let out a chuckle as he shook his head. whatever shall he do with that dumbass…

seeing a familiar gold ink signature carrying black envelope on his desk, wriothesley felt excited. it had been a while since he last seen or heard of kintsugi, the man realizing that he found himself missing the exuberant presence of his strange friend. shrugging off his jacket and draping it on the back of his chair, he gets comfortable on the old cushions, opening the letter delicately before reading the contents inside. it was short and sweet, straight to the point as always, but it never once failed in making the duke smile wide like a fool.

“dearest kintsugi,

i thought you already knew by now as you had a history of threatening me to try sigewinne’s teas despite my protests. but yes, i really enjoy tea. the warmth, the slight scent of the dried leaf buds and the vast differences in tastes — it all helps to relieve the tension off of my muscles after a long day of work and more work. currently, i have only tried out green and black tea. the latter being my favorite.

and since you were such a sweetheart and sent me a letter first, it would be nice if you were to be an even bigger sweetheart and bring back some different types of tea leaves for me to try from your travels. even a single new variation is fine with me, i just want to try something new. anything you choose is bound to be good after all. oh and don’t try to drag in souvenirs for all of the inmates. the last time you did, we all know what happened, so save yourself the trouble.

— waiting patiently, your wrio”