#but in the version I was used to he does NOT then think of Little Bear as 'a savage'

[patchouii]

I’ll never get over how Will gave him the skankiest most arrogant little smirk right to the camera when he said “the charm being debatable”….. the tricky thing with the show is that we’re introduced to The Main Guy when his brain is already being affected with encephalitis (which Hannibal, of course, aggravates, and is then treated and cured while in the BSHCI in early S2). And where is your identity— both the one you present to the world and the one you consider closest to yourself— held? Along with your instincts, your smarts, your function and memories? Your BRAIN, of course.

And encephalitis hits all that like an electric mixer by inflaming the brain and exerting pressure, leaving someone in pain and vulnerable in all sorts of ways. If it was real life, the show would be over before the year or so of S1 ended because Will would’ve keeled over dead or been severely disabled as a result. But of course it’s fun and fiction, and Hannibal has always used real facts as inspirations rather than concrete things. After S1, Will’s empathy changes— there are no more nightmares, there’s no more uncontrolled factors. He has a remarkable (and fantastically fictional, of course) amount of conscious and selective control with his visualizations. So I definitely think that Will is closer to a pure, authentic version of himself in S2+ because of that, and sometimes I do wish everyone would recall that it was only during S1ep2, in his second or third session with his brand new FBI-appointed psychiatrist who knew his boss personally, where he said that he really wanted to go back to the field because killing Abigail’s father hadn’t really impacted him, and that he thought it felt good. That it felt powerful.

And then he chose to have more sessions with a psychiatrist who responded to that by saying that humans are made in God’s image, that killing is an act of God, and that we can certainly do as God does…… that just goes to show how he views things. If he’d had a proper psychiatrist, they’d have likely agreed with Chilton and marked him down as having some solid “dark triad” traits, if not a potential diagnosis. This isn’t to say that Hannibal’s influence didn’t matter either way in the end— it definitely did for both of them and their self-realizations and character progressions. Hannibal’s influence provided him with things to consider and understandably inflamed a sense of deep anger and a desire for violence in him.

I think that without their S1 story, it would’ve taken Will a lot longer to accept and wield those parts of himself openly, and it would’ve looked very different in terms of events. But it’s well established that he’d been buckling under the pressure of a lifelong ethos of what he should be like, feeding his darkness the scraps his empathy could scrape from crime scenes, and would’ve cracked and had his “becoming” eventually— or maybe made some other kind of harsh decision like ending his life.

the "diagnosis" Chilton gave Will during his trial was the one closest to the truth ("Will Graham has never been diagnosed. He won't allow anyone to test him. He has carefully constructed a persona to hide his real nature from the world. He wears it so well, even Jack Crawford couldn't see past it. (...) There is not yet a name for whatever Will Graham is.")

unlike Alana Bloom or Jack Crawford, he saw what a manipulator Will was and that in front of them he played a poor, confused, wounded bird ("(...) A particularly-manipulative one at that. Poor, confused, wounded bird for Agent Crawford and Doctors Lecter and Bloom. And for me, well, I get the psychopath's triumvirate: charm, focus and ruthlessness. The charm, of course, being debateable.")

he believed Will that Hannibal may be the Chesapeake Ripper and said Jack Crawford: "Hannibal once served me tongue and made a joke about eating mine. It's hard not to at least consider it.". Jack ignored him. (I think Jack was already planning some large-scale action against Hannibal, but that's a topic for another post)

he called Dr Lecter "Hannibal the Cannibal"

he understood that Will Graham was alive because Hannibal Lecter liked him that way

criticized Jack for letting Will and Hannibal get closer to each other and then leaving Will alone ("You dangle Will Graham and now you cut bait. You are letting Hannibal have him hook, line and sinker.")

when Jack expressed hope that the relationship between Hannibal and Will was one of those friendships that ends after the disemboweling, Chilton told him: "I would argue, with these two, that's tantamount to flirtation. Will is going to lead you right to him." and let's be real, he was right.

[revelboo]

Merry Christmas!Can we get something for Blaster?

Why not. I do like his Batman antenna. Just a note- I imagine the holomatter avatars look perfectly human. So perfect that they unconsciously freak real humans out. You look at them and your brain says, yep, that’s a human, while your subconscious is all animal instinct screaming that it’s not

Shoot Me In The Smile

Blaster x Reader

• Servos drumming on his console in the uncomfortable aftermath of Megstron’s broadcast, Blaster leans back and glances at Optimus. Listening to Ironhide’s belligerent disbelief that any Cybertronian would frag a human, his optics keep catching on the look their leader’s face. Knows that there’s more than a a few humans in the Ark. He’s seen them being carried about by their caretakers like exotic pets. But now he’s wondering about it. About Jazz sneaking out constantly and returning scenting like human. Of Optimus and Prowl both scenting much more strongly of the little organics than the other caretakers. And the almost pained look on Optimus’s face as Ironhide rants. They all have their secrets, he guesses. And he’s going to be late if he doesn’t go now.

• Putting your car in park, you press your forehead against the steering wheel. Count to ten to get yourself together, shut off the engine, and get out with a smile firmly in place. Pulling the awkward case out of the passenger side, you sling the strap over your shoulder and head inside. Spotting the rest of the band setting up, you throw up a hand in greeting and hear your drummer whoop at you. Making your way backstage, you start changing your clothes. Shedding yourself in favor of leather and glitter. Lining your eyes and painting your face until a stranger stares back at you. Someone who’s not timid, not terrified of crowds and overwhelmed by the noise and heat of the spotlights. The version of you that people actually like and you despise. “You should wear the wig tonight. They love it.” Turning, you smile weakly at your lead bassist, but oblige him. And it really is a stranger staring back now. All of you erased and gone.

• “Again?” Pausing at the door of his habsuite, he glances at Eject as the cassette frowns up at him in obvious disapproval. Because he has no idea how to explain the obsession. He’d found you on a local station, surfing the airwaves out of boredom. And realizing you were a local, that the bar you played out of was so close? He hadn’t been able to resist. Using his holomatter avatar to slip inside just to hear you play. Something about the dissonance in your music had called to him, wedging in his spark and his processor. Music almost frantic, pure rock and roll, but your vocals, ranging from sweet to haunting, are what had snagged him. “I won’t be out late,” he says as Eject vents and exchanges a look with Rewind, worrying about him.

• Lingering just off stage as your heart races, you study the see of faces milling about. And realize you’re looking for your guy. The one whose expression never changes, who just stares at you the whole time you sing making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You almost swear he doesn’t blink. That intense focus of his is unnerving. Fascinating and a little frightening. You can’t tell if he has a crush on you or if he’s deciding where to hide your body. As the lights dim, you blow out a shaky breath and move onto the stage with your band mates. Hand lifting to wave as you smile even though you’re shaking and can’t hardly breathe. This should get easier, right? Except it never does.

• Hiding in the woods outside the bar, he transforms into his alt mode so if he’s discovered while his attention is divided, all a human will see is a boombox, feeling the pull as he mass shifts down past what would be possible for a normal Cybertronian. Draining his reserves every time. Shivering slightly, he focuses on the avatar and it glitches into existence. There’s an errant thought as he walks to the bar. What do you think of his avatar? Do you like it? Generating an ID to show the human at the door, he makes his way inside, focusing to stay solid as he works his way to the front of the crowd. It wouldn’t do for someone to accidentally pass an arm through him and start screaming. And then there you are, guitar in hand, eyes closed as the lights dim and the spotlights bathe the stage in ruddy light. Hands shifting on the strings, your eyes open and unerringly find him as the music swells and you sing just for him. The crowd gone until it’s only you two.

They’re not patient at all

[jayybugg]

always been you

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader based on Always Been You by Chris Grey

Summary: Breaking things off should be easy.....right?

Warnings: Smut, Language, maybe a little angsty?? Not really sure. Mattheo is a little mean, but not to you.

Word Count: 3.2K

Music:

Note: I love writing fics based on songs. Probably one of my favorite things to do, I actually wrote this in June, right before my birthday, but my computer crashed, and that file got lost. I prefer this version of it better, though, so I think it was the better. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, enjoy!

Banner by @cafekitsune

You crossed my mind, a few miles ago, turned on your street, thinking I’m headed home

Mattheo chucked the butt of his cigarette to the ground as he walked through the empty corridors of the castle. Unaware of his location, he turned the corner to be met with steep stairs that he knew led to your common house door.

He narrowed his eyes at the dark path in front of him. His feet and heart were begging and urging him to continue. To get to your door, to see you, to touch you, to hear your voice. If Mattheo could smack himself, he would. He was supposed to be going to his dorm to meet some blonde chick he flirted with at a party weeks ago. A distraction, he was supposed to be going to see his distraction.

Yet, here he was, unconsciously going to you like some lost puppy who couldn’t bear to be without his owner. Mattheo continued to glare at the path before scoffing and turning away to make his way to his dorm. Ignoring the pang in his heart, he slipped another cigarette out of the pack and lit it.

How pathetic…. all this over a stupid girl.

It’s late in the night, I hope you’re alone, and nobody is there holding you close, and I tried to love again, now I’m right back at your door

He couldn’t help it. You were plaguing his mind like some disease.

Even as he gripped the hips and thrust into the blonde from behind, his mind still wandered to you. He thought about what you could be doing at this moment. Were you up reading those stupid romance books that you liked so much? Or were you watching some scripted reality show that you always gossiped about with Pansy? Or maybe you were cuddled up with some fucker like some lame-ass couple?

Or worse, instead of being laid up, what if you were in the same position as this blonde? Were you with some other guy? Letting him fuck you? Letting him get a taste of what belonged to Mattheo?

It was the small yelp of pain from the blonde that brought Mattheo back to reality. His grip was brutal on the small girl’s hips, a bruise already forming in its wake. Mattheo loosened his grip, but his pace increased, fast and rough as if he was trying fuck his anger out on the poor girl who had no idea what was going on in his mind.

“M-Matty-” The blonde moaned out. If Mattheo wasn’t thinking about you, then he was definitely thinking about you now at the use of your nickname for him. He muttered, “Don’t call me that.” Another sharp thrust making her moan, caused him to speak again, “And shut the fuck up. Your moans are annoying.”

That’s how Mattheo’s days carried on. Forcing himself not to go to you at all hours of the day and fucking anybody to get you out of his mind.

Was it working?

Not really, but Mattheo was beyond the point of actually giving a fuck. He needed to let you go; he had to let you go. Especially because he was the one who ended the friends-with-benefits arrangement, despite knowing all that, Mattheo didn’t stop watching you. His eyes were on you whenever he had the chance to. Drinking in your figure, your face, your everything.

“Merlin, you look like the biggest creep around. Stop staring at her like you want to eat her alive.” Theo’s voice broke Mattheo’s trance. His dark brown eyes met his friend’s deep blue ones as he took a seat next to him and lit a cigarette.

“I don’t want to eat her alive.” Yes, he does. Anything to have you remotely close to him. “And I don’t look like a creep, and I wasn’t even staring at her.” Mattheo scoffed, folding his arms as he leaned against one of the pillars in the Clocktower Courtyard.

“Yeah, right.” Theo snorted, blowing his smoke, “Why’d you even break it off with her? Thought shit was going well for you both?”

“Too attached,” Mattheo said curtly. Luckily for Mattheo, he didn’t specify which one of them was getting too attached because, truth be told, it wasn’t you that got attached, it was him.

Theo didn’t speak again, giving Mattheo a small noise of acknowledgment. Mattheo’s eyes focused back on you as you laughed with your friends. A small frown tethered on his lips as he watched you. Why the fuck were you so happy? Why aren’t you drowning in misery like he is?

You seemed so unbothered by the fact that Mattheo had broken things off with you. Almost as if you never cared, and it made Mattheo’s blood boil because all he could think about was you.

That’s why he came to your dorm. He needed to know how you forgot about him so quickly. He needed you to teach him. He knocked on your door loud enough that if you were in your dorm, then you heard him.

The door flung open to reveal you to Mattheo. His eyes didn’t hesitate to trail down your body before meeting your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” Mattheo asked gruffly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, obviously trying to understand the boy’s audacity. “What are you doing here, Mattheo?”

For the first time in his life, Mattheo didn’t have an answer.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it’s always been you

Your eyes stayed trained on Mattheo; he felt like his heart would be ripped out of his chest if he stood in front of you any longer. Without any words, Mattheo turned on his heels and walked away from your door. He felt your eyes follow him until he was out of your sight.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t answer you. When did it become so difficult to get what he wanted? What did he even want?

You.

He wanted you. Deep down, he knew that. His friends knew it, your friends knew it, and the whole school probably knew it. The only person who probably didn’t know it was you because, in your eyes, Mattheo was the emotionless prick who couldn’t settle down to save his life.

Mattheo wasn’t used to having nice things. Everything came at a price for him. He couldn’t, and maybe wouldn’t, wrap his head around the idea that you want him for nothing in exchange for his love. He could never bring himself to care about anyone outside of his friends, but you somehow crawled your pretty ass into his heart and plagued him every moment he wasn’t with you.

You’re just fucking attached, Mattheo, it’s pathetic.

The voice in his head sounded eerily like his father. He hated it; he hated it more than he hated how infectious you were to him. He reached into his pocket once he reached the courtyard, the cold air of night pinching his face as he pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, inhaling, then exhaling in a shaky breath.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He has never been so torn up about a girl like this before. He knew he wanted you, but what about you did he want?

Did he want your corny jokes? The ones you would tell him every morning, the ones that never failed to gain a snort from him.

Or maybe he wanted your pretty smile? That same pretty smile that he envisioned every time he closed his eyes. The same smile that made his heart flutter weirdly whenever he saw it. The same smile that made him jealous whenever he saw it directed at anyone other than him.

Or was it your voice? Merlin, your voice. So soft and sultry. Always said his name so sweetly, even when you were annoyed at him for some reason. Your voice that lets out the prettiest moans for him when he had you on your back with your legs prompted on his shoulders.

Mattheo groaned, rubbing his temples from the pending headache that always came when he thought too hard about you, which was all the time. He threw his cigarette down, crushing the lit cherry of it under his boot. He made his way to the Slytherin dorms, looking for his next distraction.

Staring eye to eye, I can’t look away, spent so much time apart, still nothing’s changed

Mattheo was once again staring into your eyes. He was drowning in them as you plopped into the seat across from him in the Transfiguration classroom. His eyes followed every moment of yours, from your hands that opened your notebook to your plump lips that moved as you spoke.

You were speaking. You were speaking to him.

He blinked as he registered your voice, the sound making his heart jump and his cock twitch. A weird combination, but a combination that made sense for him. You frowned at him, your eyes unamused by the lack of attention that you were receiving from the curly, brown-headed boy. “Are you even listening to me, Riddle?” You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowed accusingly.

Merlin, her eyes were so fucking pretty. “Since when do you call me ‘Riddle’?” Mattheo licked his lips as he finally spoke. You scoffed, slamming your hands down on the table. “Is that all you can respond to? If you can’t focus or won’t focus, I’ll tell McGonagall to switch us for the project.”

“No!” Mattheo rushed out, “I can focus. I promise.”

That was a fucking lie.

Mattheo couldn’t focus at all. Not when he sat in your dorm for the first time since he ended things with you. It was overwhelming, from your scent to the closeness of you two on your bed. The only thing running through Mattheo’s mind was pushing you back on the bed and diving his head between your legs to taste you.

He was trying, Merlin, he was, but he just couldn’t. Not when you were in front of him in spandex shorts that made your ass look so good and a tank top that revealed that you had no bra on. Were you trying to torture him? Some sort of sick punishment for how he went about ending things?

He exhaled loudly, causing your eyes to snap up to him in a slight look of annoyance. “If you don’t want to do this, then you can leave. Nobody is forcing you to be here.” You said.

Is that what you thought he was thinking about right now? Leaving you? As if.

“Nobody is annoyed, doll.” He said, “Trust me.”

He met your eyes, the room suddenly intensifying around them. Your eyes darted across his face as if you were trying to pick out the lie in his features. “Right.” You muttered.

A silence took over the room as you both continued to stare at each other. Mattheo’s heart was beating out of his chest. He just wanted to lean over and kiss you. He wanted to hear you whisper his name in his ear. He wanted you.

Fuck it.

I find nirvana inside of your love, baby girl, nobody was enough, oh, I tried to love again but a part of me was yours

Mattheo’s lips crashed against yours, expecting you to immediately push him away, but much to his surprise, you kissed him back. He moaned at the simple feeling of your lips against his. The murkiness in his mind had cleared, with you being the only thing on his mind.

He pushed you back on the bed, lips still attached as he felt his body and heart become whole again. He had been suffering for months when all he needed to do was kiss you. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck as his hands slipped under your tank top to cup your breasts.

“Mattheo.” You whispered. A groan involuntarily fell from Mattheo’s mouth when he heard it as he continued to kiss down your collarbone, his fingers massaging your hardened nipples. “Mattheo.” You whispered again, “We shouldn’t-”

“No.” Mattheo breathed out against your shoulder. His curls hid his dark eyes from you as his fingers pinched your nipples. A small yelp filled the air as Mattheo planted a kiss on your shoulder. “I don’t care if you kick me out right after or punch me for whatever reason. I don’t care. I want this; I need this.” He whispered.

He sat up, his eyes meeting yours once again. There was nothing but lust, honesty, and vulnerability swirling in them. You blinked up at him before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Mattheo didn’t waste any more time. Mainly because he was so desperate but also because he was scared if he waited a second longer, you would change your mind. He lifted your shirt up, pulling it over your head, and throwing it to some unknown part of your room. His lips latched onto your left nipple, his hands traveling past the waistband of your shorts. He whined, he fucking whined, when he felt that you had no underwear on. “You’re fucking torturing me, doll.” He mumbled, moving to give your right nipple the same amount of attention.

“I didn’t...I didn’t do anything.” You whimpered, a soft gasp following as two of his fingers slid into you with ease. Mattheo came back up, his eyes meeting yours, his lips only inches from yours as his fingers plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your moans were hitting his lips like a hit of ecstasy. “That’s the fucking problem.” He mumbled.

His fingers curled inside of you, your back arching, and a loud whine from you as a result. “You have been torturing me for these past few months, and you don’t even know.” He mumbled, “It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“M-Mattheo...”

“Stop calling me that.” Mattheo demanded, pulling his fingers out of you and your shorts. He ignored your whine as he yanked your shorts down, throwing them in the same direction as your tank top.

He scooted down, pushing your thighs apart to further reveal your leaking pussy to him. Another moan fell from him as he ran a finger down your folds, gathering some of your wetness up. He lifted his finger to his mouth, sucking it lightly. Your eyes were trained on him as you let out a sound that Mattheo couldn’t quite identify. “Mattheo is your name.” You finally gathered enough brain power to respond.

“Not to you. You know what I want you to call me.” He mumbled. Mattheo leaned in, running his tongue down your folds. You let out a loud moan, your hands flying to his hair. “Y-You said you hated the nickname ‘Matty’.” You whispered, your eyes fluttering close.

“I want to hear it.” Mattheo said, blowing on your clit, causing a shiver to run down your body. He licked down your folds again, this time faster, as he looked up at you. “Open your eyes, doll. Open your eyes and say my name.” He whispered, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking on it lightly.

Your moans were uncontrollable at this point, and you had no choice but to obey his wish. “Matty.” You breathed out, “Fuck, Matty...”

A smile graced his face as he pulled away, pushing his two fingers back into you. “That’s my good slut. Always did know how to follow directions.” He whispered. His lips reattached to your clit, sucking lightly and swirling his tongue around it.

Your moans filled the room as your fingers tightly gripped his hair. He wasn’t going to stop until he ripped an orgasm from you. He would die if he didn’t get you to cum on his tongue. “I know you’re close, doll. Don’t hold out on me, please. Cum on my tongue, I need it.”

You whined as you held his head closer to your clit, your orgasm leaking onto his tongue. He licked it up eagerly, pleased to clean up the pretty mess that he had made. When he sat up, he yanked his shirt off, following his sweatpants and boxers. He watched as your eyes seemed glued to cock, hard and already desperately leaking with pre-cum. Mattheo climbed back on top of you, holding the shaft of his cock as he ran it up and down your folds.

“You’re soaked.” He whispered against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours, “Did you miss me?”

You took a deep breath. “What does it matter? You...You wouldn’t care regardless.”

You thought he didn’t care? If he wasn’t in the middle of sinking his cock inside of you, he probably would have given you a serious response. Instead, all that tumbled out his mouth was, “Just answer me.”

He pushed his cock into you, a groan escaping his lips. “I missed you.” He whispered, “If that makes any difference in your answer.”

He moved his hips slowly, hitting deep inside of you. The act of it all was sensual, intimate. As if Mattheo was trying to make this moment last as long as possible. Your soft moans brushed against his lips, causing his heartbeat to race. “You should miss me.” You whispered, “You’re the one who ended things.”

He was. Merlin, he was the idiot who ended things. “I know.” He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Mattheo gave her a deep thrust, getting a moan in return. He kissed her jaw, his hips moving a bit faster but keeping a deep pace. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” He repeated in your ear. “I’ve missed your pretty self, doll. So fucking much.”

Mattheo didn’t know what was taking over him. The feeling of being inside you again, or if the intimacy of it all was making his true feelings spill out.

“Matty.” You whispered. His hips moved with more urgency as if he was trying to fuck his remorse into you. “I mean it, doll.” He whispered, “I’m fucking sorry and I’ve fucking missed you.”

You tightened around him, making his moan in your ear. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just....fuck, doll.” Mattheo mumbled, his words spilling out quickly. He was so drunk, on you, on your love, on your pussy. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you were clenching around more and more. “Cum with me, doll. Please. I fucking need it.” Mattheo pleaded.

You met his eyes, nodding. “I am, Matty... I am.” You said.

Your moans mixed with his groans as you both came together. His seed filled you as your juices coated his cock and soaked the sheets underneath. Mattheo pressed his lips to yours, passionately and desperately.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it always, been you

It all made sense to Mattheo now.

With your head lying on his chest as your light snores filled your room, Mattheo’s mind was clearer than it had been in the past few months. He was attached. That was the only answer.

He wasn’t just attached to you. He was obsessed and in love with you.

Mattheo couldn’t hide it or deny it to himself anymore, and he honestly didn’t want to. There was no point in doing that. The only person he had to convince was you.

It had always been you. Always.

[dokidokitsuna]

GameSwap!AU

Just a random idea I had: what if Magolor and Hyness traded games with each other? Like, their character/personality remains the same, only now they each have the other’s roles and goals. I thought it would be fun~

-So making Magolor the main antagonist of Star Allies would be a trip; I feel it would change the whole ambiance of the game…probably in a detrimental way, from a gamedev point of view. You don’t really wanna put the super cute and charming new character with the most memorable heel-turn in the series…at the center of the “nostalgia” game. ^^; With the return of the Helpers and a dozen familiar faces cameoing as Dream Friends, Magolor’s theatrics would be too much of a distraction.

But whatever, let’s say we put him in anyway: now Magolor is the leader of Jambastion, trying to resurrect a god of emptiness and despair. I predict he snaps immediately. XD

I just think handing that kind of leadership role to an obviously power-hungry character like Mago would grow worms in his brain incredibly quickly. ^^; That isn’t to say that he’d do the cuckoo-4-coco-puffs schtick that Hyness does– I think instead he would be a sort of annoying “chuunibyou” character; constantly popping up to ramble about being Void Termina’s chosen one, destined to succeed because he’s the specialest and bestest ever, so you might as well give up now.

And he’d give off this completely unserious vibe like, “...Are you just making this up? Is this god you’re trying to resurrect actually real; or are you just a very lonely, understimulated, disturbed little egg…?”

And then by the end of the game we realize that he *wasn’t* making it up, and as he starts abusing the Mage Sisters (who probably hate working for him to begin with...) and rapidly becomes a real threat, suddenly we’re forced to take him seriously. ^^; We’ll rescue him from Void Termina’s innards anyway, though, because we’re nice, and similarly to his true character arc; he’ll probably realize that he got in over his head and beg to be saved.

-Hyness in Return to Dreamland would be interesting…primarily because he doesn’t seem like the ‘manipulator’ type to me. I think he’d be more of an ‘absentminded professor’ type: enthusiastic and silly but in an awkward, understated way. He’d just come right out and tell us he wants help to find the Master Crown, but he’d present it as a mysterious object of limitless possibilities that we should ALSO be interested in…y’know, just for curiosity’s sake. Conveniently leaving out the fact that he’s taking it for himself, and he’s more than just curious– he already knows exactly what he wants to do with it. ^^;

And similarly to *his* true character arc…I think Hyness would go all in. ‘_’ No hesitation, no regrets; he’d dive right into Mistilteinn’s clutches and become its twisted avatar, forcing us to literally carve him out of there if we want to stop him. This would probably call for a much tougher boss fight, with a more serious ambiance– none of Magolor Soul’s cutesy juggling; let’s aim for something more like Zero’s eyeball exploding out of his face, but in 3D~. Or all the horrific stuff Fecto Elfilis had going on, since we have the benefit of hindsight. XD

As for the end…this may hurt some folks, but I think it would make sense for Hyness to die, like the devs originally planned for Magolor before they decided to have mercy on him. The thing is, without the Mage-Sisters to highlight Hyness’ changes in behavior, there’s not as much to gain from redeeming him…maybe that’ll be part of his character arc too; seeking to become the instrument of the Master Crown because he has nothing and no one else. This version of Hyness still has his empty heart, devoid of care, but without Void Termina to pledge himself to, the tree-demon is the best he can do. ^^; And with a little fleshing-out of his backstory before he goes (perhaps a chance to learn more about the magic vs. science users…?) he could make a good tragic antagonist, the first of his kind in the series.

-...Seeing as RtDL was supposed to be like a fresh start for the Kirby series, though, all this lore and sadness would be a little heavy for that concept…from a gamedev point of view, I would reject the idea. But if we did go with it, I shudder to think how it would influence the rest of the games to follow…perhaps the franchise would actually have taken the grimdark turn that people like to think it has. ^^ Which would be cool to see, admittedly.

[hoomandoescosplay]

My Deer | Alastor x Reader Oneshot

As Alastor is focused on finding the perfect place for each ornament on our tree I sneak out of the living room. A smile grows on my face as I open our bedroom closet and grab a small box I hid in the back.

Taking off the lid I have to stop myself from giggling as I see the reindeer headband I bought a few weeks ago. After taking a moment to stare at them I pick them up and make my way out of the bedroom, making sure to hold the headband behind my back out of sight.

Alastor is still hard at work decorating the tree, making my smile widen. I grab the star for the top of the tree with my free hand as he begins to hum along to the song playing on the record player.

“Looks like the tree is ready for the final touch.” I say as I walk near him, shaking the star around gently. He turns around to look at me and smiles. "It does. Do you want to place it up there dear?"

I shake my head. “Can you do it? The tree we picked is a little too tall for me.” I say with a small laugh. "Of course. Let me." Alastor chuckles as he grabs the tree topper from me and begins to carefully place it atop the Christmas tree.

As he places the star I quickly pop the headband on his head. He immediately freezes, his hand hovering over the tree topper as he takes a moment to process what just happened.

He slowly turns his head back to look at me before using his hand to feel what was placed on his head. "What-?" He mumbled while coming to the realization that I placed antlers on him.

“You look so cute as a reindeer.” I laugh out. “I’m so glad I bought those.” He blushed a little in embarrassment as he brought his hand back down to his side but kept the headband on.

"I do not look cute." He mumbled in an attempt to argue. I cross my arms, huffing playfully. “And how would you know that if you haven’t looked at yourself.”

Alastor paused before sighing, realizing that I was right. "I don't have to look to know that these antlers look ridiculous on me." I walk closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Well I think you look great and your wife is always right.” I give him a large grin.

He rolled his eyes with a smile as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "You’re lucky I love you. These would be long gone if I didn’t." He then kisses me for a moment. “Why a reindeer headband? I’m curious.”

My eyes light up at the question, hoping he’d ask. “You always call me dear so now you're my dear. Get it?” I laugh slightly once more. “I also just love deers and reindeers are the festive version of them.”

Alastor stared at me for a moment before laughing a little at the pun. "I can't even say I'm surprised that was your reason." He chuckled before giving me a small smile.

"Well, I'll be your dear if that's what you want" He said in a humorous tone. My smile grows at his words as I pull him in for another kiss. His arms pull me a little closer as he kisses me back for a moment.

We soon part, and he pulls away with a warm smile on his face. "I love you, my dear." Alastor chuckled as he looked down at me. “I love you too Alastor.”

"Even when I look like a deer?" He laughs as I begin to laugh along with him. “Even when you look like a deer. A very cute deer.” Even though he rolled his eyes at the last part he couldn't hide the growing smile on his lips.

[applestorms]

trying to break down beyond more so here's some random thoughts:

he's very particular about the ways in which he's unhinged/insane, and oddly conscious about every weird thing he does. everything is meant to one-up L: excess sugar (jam + coffee sludge), uncomfortable body movements, presenting as a Genius Detective to hide his own crimes, etc. his weirdness is unnatural and, at least in the ways he specifically tries to replicate L, not innate to him specifically. there's a version of beyond, perhaps pre-L, who is weird in his own unique way.

for a serial killer, he has very little interest in the killings themselves. despite executing all these violent murders, even one of a 13 year old girl, every one of his victims is killed only after they're drugged to unconscious and the mutilation of their bodies is all post-death, for the sake of his puzzles alone. seemingly the only reason why he bothers with murder is because that is what L focuses on, and because his eyes make him so intimate w/ death.

his motives are clearly focused around L, perhaps both as a reaction to L and as an attempt at initiating some kind of interaction? iirc mello claims near the end of the story that his sole purpose is to give L some kind of unsolvable case, but clearly some of his behaviors must be done to antagonize L specifically, since almost nobody else (other than the meta audience) knows who he's presenting himself as/clowning on.

ultimately, it's his ego that gets him. he underestimates naomi's abilities often throughout the story, feeding her clues to ensure that his own puzzles get solved-- perhaps out of a lack of respect for her intelligence, but also to present himself as even more capable? to brag as much as he can?

the congenital shinigami eyes is honestly one of the most fascinating ideas any death note side story has ever presented. there are so so so many questions you can ask here-- is beyond genetically part shinigami? is he or his birth family somehow connected to a death note? how can he read the lifespans? mello describes beyond's shinigami eyes as follows:

Killing people was, for him, normal. Killing people who were fated to die anyway was no effort at all. Mmm, I guess I should explain the idea of the eyes of a shinigami. The phrase is only too familiar to me, but if I don't explain it, some of you will cry foul. The eyes of a shinigami. These eyes could be given out by any shinigami in return for half the recipient's remaining life. Normally contact with a shinigami was a prerequisite for acquisition, but Beyond Birthday had traded nothing--he had seen the world through those eyes since before he could remember. He knew your name before you said it. He knew the time of death of every person he met. ...I hardly need to explain just what effect this would have one his personality. You might think they would hardly be useful without a Death Note, but that is simply not the case. The ability to see someone's remaining life is the ability to see death. Death, death, death. Beyond Birthday lived his life unceasingly reminded that all humans would eventually die. From the time he was born he knew the day his father would be attacked by a thug and die, knew the day his mother would die in a train crash. He had these eyes before he was born, which is why he called himself Beyond Birthday. Which is why a child as strange as him was taking in by our home, sweet home--Wammy's House. (pg. 94-95)

it's unclear exactly how much of this story mello heard from L and how much is him interpreting/theorizing w/ his own ideas. the potentially biased narration is a fantastic layer in this story.

he is the second known wammy's kid to overtly attempt suicide, though his attempt is of course incomplete. we have no idea about the circumstances surrounding A's suicide, though i find it notable that A is mentioned at all as their presence makes this a pattern. this also seems important in conjunction w/ mello's infamous opening line: "I am your narrator, your navigator, your storyteller. For anyone else but [Near and Kira], my identity may be of no interest, but I am the old world's runner-up, the best dresser that died like a dog, Mihael Keehl. I once called myself Mello and was addressed by that name, but that was a long time ago. Good memories and nightmares." (pg. 12)

sidenote: love his use of "the old world," in that quote, i wonder what the original japanese is... fits well w/ the whole idea of L as the god of the old world. anyway,

his relationship with naomi is also Fascinating to me, particularly since it really doesn't seem like either of them have a speck of respect for the other. lmfao. i should really fic write for those two sometime... i really just need to do a proper character study on both of those bitches. lol.

edit: almost immediately upon posting this i open back the damn book back up to this quote:

If he attacked her with intent to kill, he would absolutely fail. He knew that he would. Ensuring his path of escape was far more critical. Naomi Misora was nothing more than L's servant, and if she died there would be dozens of replacements-- from the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA-- even Secret Service. So he had only been testing her. Seeing if Naomi Misora was capable of being L's substitute. "Hmmm...mmmm...hmmm...Huh huh huh huh...no, hee hee hee? I could go with ho ho ho ho, but that's a little too jolly...anyway. Oh, Naomi Misora-- you are pretty good. A shame to waste someone like you in the FBI." She had passed the test, so far. (pg. 95-96)

so. shit, idk. i guess he does still have some respect for her, albeit tempered by that classic death note sexism. shrug.

the beyond vs. KIRA comparison has a lot to consider, particularly when it comes to their egos and how they choose to cover up their crimes. L's reaction to either of them is also intriguing-- as much as i like to point out L's lack of respect for beyond he does admittedly take on the case even when it doesn't quite fit his usual standards (10+ deaths and/or 1 million dollars). he's at least somewhat aware of what his legacy is setting up, though how much he actually gives a shit about any of those kids is somewhat debatable...

[claudiakatolis]

Rewatching season 6 and I just really can't help but to see how much the antagonists carry much of arc 2. Their stories are so compelling and full of tragedy and sacrifice and loss.

So much of their motivations come a simple desire to want a better life and how circumstances are manipulated in a way to really tear apart their morality until they can't recognize who they are, or realize it after it is too late. Soren and Ezran are, imo, the two who go through the most growth among the heroes. And that's primarily because they suffer loses that aren't easily fixed by going "We'll be fine as long as we're together :)"

The issue really comes from the fact that our heroes are always reactive and not proactive like the antagonists are. Which means a large part of their motivation is just "stop the bad guys" and they very rarely are faced with consequences of their actions like the antagonists are. Claudia's actions cost her heavily and what makes her compelling is watching her go through this journey of growth and regression and wondering where her line will be, what won't she sacrifice to obtain her goal and what would it even mean for Claudia to win. Her design changes to reflect how she has been shaped by her experience throughout the story. Juxtapose that with Callum and Rayla's designs where they have definitely grown but rather than reflecting their journey, it more so just reflects their age. Which isn't itself bad, but it just brings to mind how much the heroes have become stagnant in Arc 2.

Arc 2 really only as strong as it is because of the antagonists in my opinion and I think that's one of the flaws that the writing never truly addressed. The heroes, of course, have to win. But what does victory mean for them and what are they willing to sacrifice for it? At the end of it, they sacrifice nothing. It's like a worse version of Aang and the Lion Turtle, because at least Aang has to continuously wrestle with what his duty as Avatar calls for and what is true to himself. And when he faces the Fire Lord, he faces him with many disadvantages and little assurance that he could even survive the confrontation.

He is pushed to the absolute limits and when he finally has the upper hand, he takes a firm stance and declares that he won't take a life, even if that means letting someone like Ozai live. And of course, he has the spirit bending in his back pocket to use at the end, but even then he was moments away from failing. The Dragon Prince is, ofc, limited by being 9 episodes per season, so I understand writing limitations. But I just feel that there are ways they could have really pushed the envelope and give the heroes triumphant more substance.

[destinyisastar]

I have an idea for you: How about a multivese divergence, something happens and through a tear in the fabric of space an alternate version of the alastor crashes into the original Hazbin Hotel, perhaps an angel! alastor. Imagine how funny it would be if this variant of Angel!Alastor started on top of the reader, since in Angel!Alastor universe there is no reader. Maybe the reader was those rare events that happen and not all universes have a reader...

((Note: perhaps both Alastors were yanderes by the reader))

Just the two of Us

Alastor x Gn Reader x Angel Alastor

(YANDERE)

Summary: An angel falls on you while you are walking back to the hotel and starts taking a liking to you. What happens when the Radio Demon starts to feel distaste towards this new guest?

More info: This was supposed to be uploaded a couple of days ago, but I was going through a bit of writer's block. I really liked this idea I hope I did you justice! This is a long one!

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“Good morning my wonderful listeners!” A voice speaks into a mic, “A gorgeous morning we are having here today in our beloved heaven!” The voice laughs. “Oh, I wouldn’t trade this view for anything in the world, wouldn’t you agree!?” A cheering track is played in the background.

“Now on to today’s activities! There will be a golden hour ceremony in well… in less than thirty minutes! Oh golly! You’ll need to get there quick before there’s no more space left! Ha-ha!!” The man flips through his scripts, “Here’s one that you all will enjoy, Miss Nifty is holding a cooking competition, the winner of the competition will be the rewarded with an opportunity to practice with the little angel herself. On to other news, the grand opening of Mimzy’s dancing parlor will be at six o’clock this evening! Be sure to have your dancing shoes on!” The man behind the mic continues to joke around before he checks his watch, “I believe its time for some music…Jazz for the soul… This is your host, Alastor! I’ll talk to you all soon!”

Alastor lets the jazz music play as he grabs his coffee mug and walks to the window in his radio station. As he takes a sip he watches as the Angels down below walk around, enjoying their afterlife. He smiles as he thinks about what he plans to do today when a small red spiral forms in front of him.

Alastor chokes on his coffee and punches his chest to calm himself.

“What in the heavens is this?!” He puts his mug down and tilts his head to the side. “What should I do with this?” A spark of curiosity flows through him, he decides to poke his finger through the spiral, and it suddenly grows larger.

Alastor jumps backwards, “Oh good lord!” He walks closer to the spiral and decides to just put his whole head through. Inside of the spiral is a red sky and down below that seems to be a city. There seems to be sparks flying, it almost seems like gunshots, down below. Alastor pulls himself back to his station.

The spiral is still there as he paces around the room. “Should I call somebody?” he questions himself. Alastor shakes his head.

Urgent.

He feels a sense of urgency pulling him to the spiral. Why? It doesn’t seem safe wherever it leads to, so why does he feel his legs pull him towards the spiral? He feels his wings stiffen.

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath, “Okay…. I’ll check it out and if doesn’t seem worth my while, I can just come back… at least I think so….” Alastor grabs his staff by his desk and walks to the spiral. “Alright… here we go.”

He walks through the spiral and begins to plummet down to the city below.

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“You were right Angel, that store really didn’t have anything good.” You say as you walk side by side with your friend, Angel Dust., as you head back to the Hazbin Hotel.

“I told ya to trust me toots, we should have just stuck with what we knew.” Angel sighs as switches his bags to his other hand. “But it was kinda worth it!” He says as he waves the bags in your face.

“That’s because you got everything for free! I just wanted to see if they had any earrings….” You look the through the small bag you had, “They are pretty, I just wish they had more of a selection…”

“Don’t sweat it, I got some for you too!” He grins at you.

“Aw than-” You get cut off when a body drops on you.

You face the ground with a heavy weight on your back, you hear Angel yelling at whoever was on top of you, pulling (throwing) them off of you.

With a groan you get up, patting yourself for any injuries, “What was that?”

“Don’t know, this freak just fell on you.”

Theres a man on the ground near the wall, he appears to have white wings…. almost like an angel….

The man gets up, “Ah, I’m so sorry for dropping in on you!” The man has yet to look at you, he pats himself down, reaching for his staff…. it almost seems familiar to you.

Finally, the man looks at you right in the eyes then looking you up and down, “My oh my,” He walks up to you taking your hand in his and bends down to press a tender kiss to it. “My apologies for “dropping in” on you! Ha-ha! Oh, where are my manners! My name is Alastor! Pleasure to meet you quite the pleasure! Maybe this is fate to fall upon such a gorgeous person such as yourself!  Ha-ha!” “Alastor’s” wings puff up.

Both you and Angel freeze.

Angel speaks up, “What did ya say your name was freak?”

“My name is Alastor! Is this thing working?”  “Alastor” taps his microphone staff.

The microphone seems to speak, “Yes! I heard you loud and clear!”

You release your hand from this so called “Alastor”, “Alastor?”

“Yes, my dear?” He answers looking at you with glee.

“Why…. why do you have wings?”

“Alastor” tilts his head at you and Angel, “Well I’m an angel! Oh, you know me Anthony, I always make sure your requests are always played, I even have my own radio show! Maybe you heard of me from there?!”

“AN ANGEL?!” Both you and Angel yell.

Onlookers nearby are now paying attention to all of you.

“Ah shit!” Angel Dust mutters, his mind seems to be somewhere else.

“W-well, Alastor we should get going!” You remove your coat and place it on “Alastor’s” shoulder to cover his wings. “Please keep this on for right now!” you whisper yell to him.

“Whatever for my dear?” Angel Alastor asks.

“Just…please! For me!?”

Angel Alastor nods, “Alright but where are we going?”

“W-we just need to get some place safer for you!” You pull Angel Alastor along with you on the sidewalk, “Angel! C’mon!!”

Angel Alastor escapes out of your grasp and instead gives you his arm to hold on to while you walk.

You stop to look at him but wrap your hand through his arm and keep going as Angel Dust walks in front of the both of you.

Angel Alastor smiles joyfully as he walks faster to keep up with your steps.

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In the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor sits in his chair in his radio tower as he waits for your return. Now, he wouldn’t say that he is desperate for your attention he just appreciates your presence. Yes, that’s it…. your presence is much more tolerable than the other pathetic sinners in this hopeless hotel.

At any moment now you will walk through the hotel’s doors. How does he know that? Well, let’s just say he has eyes everywhere. No, he’s not obsessed with you, why would you think that?

Alastor teleports his way to the lounge area of the hotel and takes a seat on his chair, waiting patiently for your arrival.

And arrive you do.

“Yo Charlie! You here!?” Yells out Angel Dust.

“Why are you yelling so early today?” Husk says from behind the bar.

Angel walks over to the bar and slams his hands on the table, “You ain’t never gonna believe this!” Husk pours him a drink and Angel chugs it down, “Alastor is an Angel!!”

 Husk looks at him with a deadpan look, “Are you stupid?”

“NO! I’m being serious!”

“Have you had one to many drinks this morning, my friend?” Alastor says as he teleports himself to take a seat near Angel as Husk passes him a drink. “As you can see, I’m still here in all my glory Ha-ha!” Alastor grins.

Angel looks at him up and down, “Nah no way you had wings and everything!! And… you knew my…” He chugs another down, “Y/n! Get in here!”

Hearing your name makes Alastor perk up but his grin almost, almost, fell. W̷̞̫̄ȟ̷̨͇͝o̵͎̖͑͋ ̷̣͔̏t̶̯̯́h̶̥̲̔e̵̤̘͋̉ ̴̬̥̏͒f̵̩͘ṳ̵̠̆̽ć̷̦̕͜k̸̖̻̐̚ ̸̡̜̀ả̴̰͜r̶̨̹̀e̶͈̙̾ ̵͕̃ÿ̴̧̖́̀o̴͇̙̚u̵̘̔͠ ̴͈͚̓ḫ̵̮̓͝o̷̬̙͛̕l̶̡͓͒͘d̶̝̹̐ȉ̸͈͝ṅ̵͍̚g̴̮͎̊͛ ̸͕̚ȍ̶͜n̶̺̱̈́ ̸̰̣̆̉t̴̥̑̐o̷͍͒?̸͔̹͐

“Okay…this is the Hazbin Hotel… “Alastor”,” You lead Angel Alastor to the couch, “Sit here while I…. go get someone to help, okay? Do you want anything so drink?”

“No, but thank you darling! I’ll be fine!” Angel Alastor laughs.

“Who the fuck is that?” Husk spats out.

“See! That’s Alastor, well, Angel Alastor. Its freaky!!”

You walk up to the bar, gently placing your hands on the table, “Where’s Charlie?”

“She’s out with Vaggie, said something about convincing sinners to join the hotel.” Husk cleans some of the glasses but continues to take glances at the supposed “Angel Alastor”.

 You sigh, “Okay…okay” You rub your temples, “Can I have a glass of water please, it’s for him…” Husk hands you the glass of water and you walk away from the group heading towards Angel Alastor, taking a seat next to him.

However, Alastor, the Alastor that sits by the bar… Alastor the Radio Demon… is seething.  Of course, he is a bit curious seeing that this supposed “Angel Alastor” is another version of him, a version of him that has wings, white hair, and a staff eerily similar to his. Why are you sitting next to this fake? That fool is nothing like him.

“Here, have some water… you probably need it from falling from wherever you came from.” You pass him the water and he drinks it.

“Thank you my dear….” Angel Alastor looks around the room, “This is a darling little place you have here chère! But what exactly is this?” He turns to you.

“Oh! This a hotel ran by the Princess of Hell, Charlie, she’ll explain more once she gets here, I wanted to ask… how did you get here?”

Angel Alastor places his drink down on the table, “Well, I woke up as I usually do, then I went to my radio station…I was doing my usual routine, reading my scripts, telling everyone what the day had planned for them, after that was done I let some music play then I just walked around my broadcast room and suddenly this little spiral appeared right in front of me.”

“Spiral?”

“Yes, its was red and black… I gave it a small poke and it grew larger. I will admit, I got a bit curious about it, so I stuck my head in it.”

“You stuck your head in it? What if you got hurt?”

“Well, you know what they say curiosity killed the cat Ha-ha-ha!!” Angel Alastor jokes, “But in this case the cat lived! Oh-ho!” He begins to wipe a fake tear. “Once I stuck my head through the spiral, I saw a city down below and decided to take a look!”

You tilt your head to the side, “You wanted to take a look?”

“Yes!”

“That sounds silly.”

Angel Alastor laughs, “Now my dear I believe I told you my name already, what might yours be?”

“That’s right, I haven’t told you my name, it’s Y/n.”

“My, that’s a beautiful name…” Angel Alastor smiles at you sweetly, reaching for your hand.

Angel Dust walks over to the both of you and leans on the edge of the couch, “Listen…. “Alastor”, you called me “Anthony” … Why?”

Angel Alastor turns slightly towards Angel, “You look like Anthony, a fellow I know from heaven, he always calls in so his song can play, in fact,” Angel Alastor looks to the bar and points at Husk, “I also know someone that looks like that gentlemen as well, though he doesn’t look so…” Husk flips off Angel Alastor, “so off.”

Angel Alastor then turns his attention to… himself?

The Alastor at the bar grins, his smile stretches upwards, “And?” He taps his fingers on his staff, “What about me?” He tilts his head slyly.

Angel Alastor stands up, “Well, I’ll be…” He wipes his monocle with a handkerchief and his wings puff up slightly.

Alastor teleports in front of “Angel Alastor” from the shadows on the floor below.

Both Alastor’s tilt their heads, both hum, both grin at each other.

“Your me.” They both say in unison.

Alastor has a red and black color coordination (red being more dominate) while Angel Alastor has a white and blue color coordination (white being more dominate). They’re both similar. The only attribute that separates them both is the golden halo above Angel Alastor’s head along with the large wings on his back.

“So, you’re from heaven?” Alastor circles around this supposed Angel, “You said that there’s others that look like our spider fellow here and the drunk behind the bar…. Are they also angels?”

“They aren’t demons! Ha-ha! But I will say….” Angel Alastor looks down to you as you still sit on the couch, “I’ve never seen anyone that looks like you.” He smiles.

Alastor sneers for a moment but it was quickly replaced by a grin, “Well! Maybe she’s in your hell! Did you think of that?!”

Angel Alastor pushes Alastor with his staff, “I assure you she wouldn’t be there.” He takes a glance at you then looks back at Alastor. “There is no hell.”

Angel Dust spits out his drink, “NO HELL?!”

“You heard correct.” Angel Alastor turns towards the bar, “We have no hell.”

The front doors open and in walks Charlie and Vaggie.

“Uh what’s this talk about no hell?” Charlie says as she looks around the room and freezes as she spots Angel Alastor.

“Who the fuck is that!?” Vaggie yells, arming herself with her spear racing towards Angel Alastor.

However, before Vaggie can make contact with Angel Alastor, you put yourself in between them raising your arms out. “WAIT! WAIT!” you yell out, “He’s okay! He’s not gonna hurt us!”

“Then what the hell is he doing here?! And why the fuck does he look like Alastor!?”

“Vaggie calm down!” Charlie rubs her girlfriend’s shoulders then looks to Angel Alastor. “Who are you?”

“I’m Alastor! Pleasure to meet you! I assume your Charlie the Princess of Hell!” He grins while shaking her hand.

Charlie stays silent for the moment and huffs out a laugh, “I’m sorry… WHAT?”

“We’ve been over this before you got here toots…” Angel stands up right, “This is Angel Alastor and supposedly there’s versions of us in his heaven but get this, there’s no hell!” Angel Dust says as he somehow has a popsicle in his hand and takes a bite, “Crazy right?”

“This is all very weird!” Charlie says as she waves her arms.  She walks around Angel Alastor. “So, you’re an Angel that fell from heaven, but not from our heaven… am I getting this right?”

“I believe so!”

“And there’s no hell?”

“Correct!”

“And there’s people that look like us? There’s an Angel in your heaven that looks like me?”

“Yes! Her name is Charlotte, but she also goes by Charlie. She’s lovely girl, very friendly, happy go lucky,” Angel Alastor looks at Vaggie, “You are also there too, hand in hand with dear Charlie.”

“Now we need you get back to your heaven…… why did you even fall down here?”

“I was curious!” Angel Alastor turns to you, “Might I say… it was worth it.” He grins.

You start to feel flustered and look away.

Alastor stands beside you as you sit on the couch, while your flustered self would usually fill him with glee, especially if he was the reason, this fake was the one who made you turn away.  

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While heaven was a joyful beautiful place, hell was the complete opposite.

Angel Alastor sits on the balcony sipping his coffee, waiting for you to join him. It’s been a couple of days since he’s been here, and you…. he’s never met anyone like you. It’s strange, so far everyone he’s met is someone he knows from his heaven, even Nifity was here although she was a bit more deranged, killing bugs left and right. Nifity had told him he should be a “bad boy” instead of a “good boy” whatever that meant.

“Hey! I’m sorry for being a little late I was helping Charlie print out some flyers.” You say as you take a seat.

“Not to worry my dear!” Angel Alastor smiles as he passes you a cup and plate of sweets near you.

“Thank you.” You take a bite out of the sweet treat, “How are you liking it down here so far? I-I’m sorry that its nothing like your heaven, I’m sure you miss it…”

Angel Alastor places his cup down, “I… I do miss it sometimes, my radio station mostly, but you… you make this hell seem like heaven.” He grins at you.

You quickly take a sip of your drink, and Angel Alastor laughs.

From his tower in his station Alastor watches as you speak to the fake.

Why?

Why aren’t you with him?

You knew him before this fake.

So why????

Alastor’s grin tightens and teleports himself to the both of you.

“Well! Isn’t this…,” Alastor looks between the two of you, “A lovely little moment!” His grin stretches upwards.

“Good morning, Alastor!” You say smiling at the Radio Demon.

“Good morning my dear!” Alastor summons a chair, “I hope you don’t mind that I join you! It’s been such a busy morning, and I would like to spend time with someone who isn’t a nuisance! Ha-ha!”

“I don’t mind, but Angel Al is the one who invited me…. you don’t mind do you Al?”

“Not at all darling!” Angel Alastor smiles (clearing lying through his teeth, but you don’t see that) at you as you take another sip of your drink but glares at Alastor, the so called “Radio Demon” (more like the Radio Fool).

The fool is smiling at him with glee.

“So! My dear, what do you have planned today?” Angel Alastor asks.

“Oh well I-”

“They’re spending the day with me!” Alastor says as he light smacks the table with his mug, “Isn’t that right my darling?” He tilts his head at you with his signature grin.

“Yes... but you never told me what we’ll be doing.”

“I’ll shall gladly tell you right now!” Alastor scoots his chair closer to you, Angel Alastor scrunches up his face but quickly puts on a smile as you take a glance at him.

“We’ll be heading to Cannibal Town! Rosie hasn’t had a chance to chat with you in a while!” Alastor places his hand over yours, “It seems like you’re taking my good friend away from me! Ha-ha!” He says rather dramatically, “After we had our chat, I’m taking you to one of my favorite clubs! Its nothing like the ones that our feminine fellow speaks about, but I won’t say anything more, I’d like it to be a surprise!”

“That sounds wonderful Alastor!” You say excitedly.

Alastor nods his head seeming excited himself.

“Yes… it sounds delightful...” Angel Alastor mumbles as he grits his teeth.

 Alastor glances at the fake next to him with a sly grin.

You look towards Angel Alastor, feeling a bit sad that you have to leave him here. Charlie said that he can’t go due to him being an angel, it’s not safe for him, especially since he looks like Alastor.

“Well, my dear it’s almost time! We should be on our way!” Alastor stands up holding on to your hand beginning to pull you up with him.

“Hey, Al?”

Both Alastor’s look at you. Angel Alastor holds his breath.

“I know you can’t really leave the hotel to do anything so… how about we just have a day for ourselves tomorrow? We can do whatever you want!” You smile brightly at him.

Angel Alastor gives you his own smile, a smile that can certainly light up the heavens, a smile that clearly states that he’s an angel from above.

“I’d like that a lot mon chère…”

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After the little gossip sesh with Rosie, Alastor had surprised you with a little with a Jazz club. It was small but the music, oh the music, was stunning.

“How… how did you find this place Alastor?” You ask looking around, there’s sinners sitting at their tables chatting, eating, everybody here seems at peace here.

“During my first years in hell, I got a bit homesick….I missed the wonders of true music, I missed…..”  A waiter waves you both to a table and Alastor leads you with a hand on your waist and pulls your chair out for you. The waiter takes your order, and you begin to listen to the music. There’s a sinner singing on stage, her tune sounds so dreamily, the members of her band fall into sync with her.

The waiter brings you both the food you ordered, and you begin to eat the meal. The conversations between you both were rather sweet.

“You know my dear…” Alastor puts down the fork, his meal was a venison wrapped in bacon, (it was rather delicious). “I…. I know I might not always say this to you, but….”

You place your utensils down giving Alastor your full attention.

“I apprec-”

“ALRIGHT LADIES AND GENTS!!!” A man on stage speaks (yells) into the mic, “Its that time again where you grab that special person and move oh so slowly to song of our loving sweetheart!” The singer on stage nods and takes hold of the mic and sings her sweet tune much more calmly.

You take a glance at the sinners slow dancing, smiling softy at each other.

Alastor notices this and stands in front of you, holding his hand out to you, “Care for a dance my dear?” he asks tilting his head.

You stay silent for a number of seconds before nodding your head and putting your hand in his. Alastor pulls you up and brings you to the dance floor.

Placing your head on his shoulder, Alastor sways the both of you. Since you’ve known Alastor, he’s always been a force of nature. He’s unpredictable. He’s… he’s a manipulator, you know that. Everyone around you knows that, yet you feel as if there is a change in his demeanor, at least around you. He still acts the same around the other hotel guests, but to you he’s been rather kind (or whatever he deems kind).

As he sways you from left to right you hear Alastor hum along to the song, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

You remove your head from Alastor’s shoulder and look into his eyes with a smile, “I very much am… thank you for taking me here…”  Alastor removes his hands that holds yours and wraps his arms around his waist and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I appreciate you… I hope you know that…” Alastor mutters quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, my dear…”

Alastor spins you around and bends you down slightly he then pulls you back up close to his face. He smiles rather softly.

You pull yourself from him, making just enough space for the two of you. You are aware that Alastor is not fond of closeness, or rather him being touched, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Alastor’s smile drops for a second but is quickly brought right back up and the dancing continues like before.

Your mind begins to wander…. How is Angel Alastor doing? You don’t know why you care for that Angel… maybe it’s the way he looks at you or the way he actually wants to be near you, speak to you. Your mind feels at ease whenever your near him, you feel yourself smiling.

“Happy now, are you?” Alastor asks his palm cupping your cheek.

“Yes, I am…” You try not to lean into his hand.

Alastor rubs a claw on you cheek, “Something on your mind?”

You want to answer him, but you don’t want to ruin the mood that was created. Alastor and Angel Alastor seem to have tension with each other, you don’t know why (They’re the same person, just… different).

“….honestly, I’m a bit worried about Angel Alastor,” You whisper the latter, “He just fell on top of me, and I kind of feel bad about it….”

Alastor stops dancing, his grip on you tightening.

“He says he doesn’t mind being here, but I know deep down he wants to go back home….” You say looking a bit sadden.

Fake. You are speaking about that fake when you are clearly with real deal.

“I… I just… Oh, I don’t know….”

That fake is taking up too much, far too much space in your mind. Ever since that fake showed up you’ve been spending too much time with it. Why?!

“Why…”

“Huh?”

“Do you care for that fake?” His grin begins to stretch.

“Fake?”

Alastor looks away for a moment then turns back to you, “We should return to the hotel! Can’t leave that little fake by itself, right! Ha-ha!!”

“Ala-”

“No, no darling that fake needs to be coddled right now!” He walks out of the club with you following behind him.

“Alastor!”

 Alastor looks at you, shakes his head, “I… I apologize for acting out of sorts…” He raises a palm to his head, running his claws through his hair.

“Alastor, you mean a lot to me….. if you’re talking about “Angel Al”, he’s… he’s just another person. Your still my good friend and nothing’s ever gonna change that.” You smile at him.

Alastor smiles back and huffs out a laugh, “Oh, darling!” He cups your cheek once more, “You are just too sweet Ha-ha!” He gives you his arm to hold, you take it, feeling a bit flustered.

You both begin the trek back to the hotel when you turn to face Alastor once more.

“Alastor?”

“Yes?”

“I care for you.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺⌝❜❛⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺⌝❜❛⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Angle Alastor has had the time of life (afterlife?), you have truly been the light to his darkness. Sure, when he was in heaven there were plenty of people that kept him company. People that made him laugh, people that made him smile but you… he doesn’t understand this feeling he has when he’s with you. Why does your smile make his day brighter? Why does your laugh bring him joy? Why does he feel his heart thumping whenever you are near? Do you share this feeling? This feeling of happiness you feel it too…. right?

“What’s your favorite meal Al?” You ask Angel Alastor, you both decided to cook in the kitchen for your day together.

“Hmm… at the moment I would have to say any meal that includes venison! It could be stew, roasted, steak, it’s all delicious!” He says as the imagines the meals in his mind, “Although jambalaya never fails to make me smile!”

“I’ve only recently started eating venison… Alastor has certainly made an impact on my dinner time!” You smile at the memory of Alastor first giving you the taste of his venison stew (he almost gave you the meal raw, but you immediately declined).

“Yes…yes… hell’s version of me...”

You take a glance at him as you set the plates on the table, “Al?”

“Hmm?” He looks up from the cutting board.

“Do you get along with your other version?”

Angel Alastor scrunches his face a bit then goes back to cutting the venison, “I can’t say that I do…”

“Can I ask why?”

Angel Alastor puts the cut venison into a pan on the stove, making it sizzle, “We may be the same person, but we are…. how should I put this…...we are not exactly alike.”

“How so?”

“That demon…. we just don’t mix well together…” He shakes his head.

“That’s okay!”

“It’s…. okay?”

“Yeah! It’s okay that you aren’t alike, no one is meant to be the same person even if its another version of you!” You place the knives and forks down near the plates. “What about everyone else?”

“They’re all alright…. I understand they aren’t my friends from my heaven, Charlie is practically the only one that is still similar, but this is simply another… another world.”  The venison is finally cooked, and he takes it to the plates on the table setting two for you down and one for him on the plates. He takes the asparagus he had on the stove and wraps it around the venison, putting mashed potatoes on the side. He still has a smile on his face as he pulls your chair out for you and then sits in his respected seat.

“I am glad that you’re here…. I don’t think that I would have lasted too long out here if it wasn’t for you or dropping on you! Ha!”

“It’s no problem at all! Really! I like spending time with you!” You smile at him as you take a bite out of your asparagus. “You’re a good cook Al!”

“I know I am, Ha-ha!”

Once you both finished your meal Angel Alastor walks you back to your room (his room is near yours since he feels more comfortable around you).

“Thank you for everything Al, really…” You say rocking yourself back and forth on your feet.

“The honors all mine….” Angel Alastor grabs your right hand and bends down slightly to kiss it, then pulls himself back up and looks into your eyes, still holding your hand.

“Y/n….thank you for everything….the days you spend with me are nothing but hours of joy.” He cups your cheek.

You feel yourself leaning slightly into his touch for a moment, then you look into his eyes.

He smiles softly at you and moves closer towards you.

You hold your breath.

But….

You move backwards holding your cheeks with your hands, you give an airy laugh.

“I’m sor-”

“Nothing to do be sorry for my dear!” He lets out a laugh.

You nod your head, still laughing slightly, you tilt your head down but then look up Angel Alastor, he’s still smiling at you.

You grab the knob to your door, open it and walk in, “Al?”

“Yes, cher?”

“Lets… have another day together, yeah?” You look at him feeling a little nervous, “Next time I’ll choose what we do, okay?”

“Of course, anything you choose will done with my heart’s content.” He smiles at you with his hands behind his back.

You nod your head and close the door.

Angel Alastor lets out a sigh and walks to your closed door and places his hand on it tracing it. He begins to walk away when a shadow starts to bubble up from the floor beneath him. The shadow forms upwards and takes the shape of the Radio Demon.

“Well, well…. I’ve been watching you….” Alastor walks around the fake.

Angel Alastor still with his hands behind back stays perfectly still, and his wings puff up, “So you have…”

“Do you think you have a chance?” Alastor’s radio voice comes out full force, he takes a small glance at your door and decided to teleport the fake and himself to his radio tower.

Angel Alastor is consumed by the darkness and is then brought red studio.

“So, this is your dainty little…,” He looks around the area and scrunches his face, “station.”

 “Enough with the chit chat…..”

Angel Alastor tilts his head, “What exactly do you want?” he says with a grin.

“I want you to stop what your doing…” Alastor eyes begin to turn into dials.

“What exactly am I doing hmmm?” Angel Alastor’s grin tightens.

“I want you to stay away from them….”

“If I don’t?” He teases.

“I’ll-” Alastor’s antlers start to grow.

“You won’t.” Angel Alastor wings rise.

“What makes you think I won’t?”

Angel Alastor walks around the station, fiddling with the buttons, “They care for me…. you care for them… if something were to happen to me, the blame would be put on you…and then they’ll be sad…. you don’t want that, right?” He faces Alastor with his everlasting grin.

Alastor huffs, “You don’t know who you’re messing with…”

“Oh, but I do…. after all I am you.”

“You’re a fake.”

“Ah, ah, ah…. I am you, just from another world, or did you forget?”

“You’re nothing compared to me….”

Angel Alastor laughs.

“Your no Angel, are you?” Alastor grins.

“I am! Just not when it come to something I want… and I want them…”

Alastor laughs, “What a joke!”

“You laugh, but you want the same thing.”

“Maybe I do, but you…. I don’t want you here...” Alastor sneers.

“And I want you gone. You see…. we are similar in same ways….”

“Let me repeat my question ...… do you think you have a chance?”

Angel Alastor puffs his wings out, “Of course I do!”

“You don’t, I know more about them then you ever would in a single lifetime.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so!”

Angel Alastor walks to the door of the station, “We’ll see who they’ll choose…but let me tell you one thing….you won’t win..” Angel Alastor laughs and shuts the door with a slam.

Alastor stares and the door then he suddenly laughs. And laughs, and laughs.

Then he walks towards the windows of his stations and stares out with a sinister grin,

“Let the games begin.”

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Sorry for not posting for a couple of days! I was going to post 3 stories yesterday, but I didn't :P Anyways, more to come!

WordCount: 5573

destinyisastar 2024

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 62 Chuunibyou Posting

...Hello dear void. Rumours of my death are only slightly exaggerated. I'm back from the hospital and I'm ready to chill with this chapter over the break. Taking it easy on myself and not doing the editor's notes this week. This will be short in general since I'm still in recovery, actually- sorry about that. Gonna rest up and get ready for the next chapter that drops on January 3rd.

Chihiro...?

Something something fresh hatred

I got a kick out of Chihiro from Wish, I really did. Goes to show how ridiculous his edginess in the first few chapters was before Char softened him up for the better. Everyone give Char a pat on the head for doing a good job, okay?

Iori's impression of Chihiro as a murderer is something I'll allow myself a little satisfaction for since I called him having a trashed public image thanks to his interruption of the kabuki play back in chapter 52. He's going to have a harder time completing his mission thanks to this in some way- betting on the Kamunabi using it against him somehow, but the Hishaku easily could too. It's anyone's guess on how exactly this will come to bite him in the ass but it will happen.

Worst of all, though, he's got kids imitating him like he's some MC out of an edgy wish-fulfillment LN. What a way to trivialize what someone's been through (not that Discount Chihiro knows, of course). Chihiro's image is already out of his control in some pretty damaging ways.

But She Was, in Fact, the Chosen One

Thank you for your helpful narration about the general public's reaction to Owl darkening the skies, Iori.

We don't know the kanji for Iori's name yet since it's only been spelled with Katakana so far (イヲリ), but it's clear as day that she's inherited some of Samura's reckless bravery and quick assessment abilities.

I like that she's very much an ordinary girl being thrust into a situation that's way over her head. Her memories of her dad are locked away so she's just an average highschooler being plucked out of the ordinary and tossed into the extraordinary like Discount Chihiro wished he was until Kuguri held a sword to his throat.

The seal is breaking through Iori's own will to know what the hell is going on so I wonder if the Masumi will re-do it. I think not, since Minimura had that bit about Samura underestimating kids near the end, so she'll probably get a few panels to come to terms with her real identity while Chihiro does some cool moves in the classroom to fend off the Hishaku.

I have a feeling that Iori's going to be sticking around for a while. She's getting a lot of screen time and set up for development if she's just meant to be an arc character or damsel in distress. Won't get too attached, obviously, but I kinda like her already based on the little glimpse we've seen. Looking forward to learning more about her personality and seeing what's in store for her beyond this arc.

Silly Murderers

There's no fixing this kind of crazy.

Place your bets: blood-based identification sorcery, or just plan nuts? We'll find out sooner or later.

This is gonna be another inconclusive fight since we need to see Kuguri meet the Bearer that's bonded to the blade he's pining for and learn Tomboy's name.

Small Complaint

Just a note about a small difference I'm petty enough to be annoyed about in the EN version:

The "no"s stop pretty short in English, but in Japanese...

...they run on into Minimura's speech bubble to show her racing thoughts getting cut short.

Alright dear void. Let's enjoy lobotomybachi week and let the brainrot flow during the break. Also, consider getting help before you shut down and enter a tailspin- this is a very difficult time of year for some of us. You're not alone if so. Reach out for help if you need it.

[codacheetah]

[toonheartz]

so as you might know, mickey's entering the public domain on january 1st

what if we did something really silly to celebrate?

i know it's really short notice but we can continue to do it even after the date because well, he's gonna be public domain! so what if...we all made "mickeysonas" and posted them with the tag #mickeysona?

kinda like how people made spidersonas and linksonas and sorasonas but more absurd, something that makes people think...why though

a sona is basically a representation of yourself, so in this case you'd be drawing yourself as mickey! or...mickey as you? minnies are also welcome :]

ANOTHER silly idea i had was to coin a term, a "mickey mouse", meaning an iconic or flagship character. like mario is nintendo's mickey mouse and pikachu is pokemon's mickey mouse. what if we literally just. started calling our main oc our mickey mouse. so show off your story's mickey mouse with the tag #mymickeymouse! will it catch on? probably not. but it would be really funny.

if you want to do either or want to see others do it, consider spreading this around!!

[disposal-blueeee]

( stereotypical mexican music starts playing

[fisheito]

If you tracked my eye activity on that bliss promo pic with the tops it would be something like this

Making a major stop at topper

Before crashing into a ditch (yakuya corner)

[arcticmist0324]

By the age of 30, everyone needs to have several fictional meow meows that they would gladly abandon every single one of their morals to defend.

[kandicon]

*writes the same exact headcannons in slightly different scenarios over and over again*

[toddtakefive]

btw todd’s reluctance to join the dps because he doesn’t want to read (which is then accommodated for) and is scared to put himself out there (which is also worked through) being read as todd not wanting to go AT ALL, and thus neil making the proper accommodations (“todd anderson, who prefers not to read, will keep the minutes of the meetings”) and encouraging him to step out of the box that stifles him being seen as ‘forceful’ or like he can’t take no for an answer makes me insane with rage