#in my head as i was drawing this i imagined that Pest was there backing them up with the Bouncer.

[smiledoggy]

this is BULLSHIT THEY LET POOB IN.

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝒯𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒫𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 ༻

Raphael x Tav/Reader | Haarlep x Tav/Reader

Summary/Request: Haarlep and Raphael discover how obnoxious your little imp familiar is… Every time they try to get close to you the pest always interferes.

Note: Two Separate Stories!!! Raphael's is after Haarlep's part!!!

Haarlep x Tav/Reader Is Slight NSFW | Raphael Is Not Happy | Minor Humor | Angst

༺ 𝐻𝒶𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝓅 ༻

Haarlep reclined with a languid grace, anticipation lighting their gaze. Despite their cool exterior, the presence of you, Raphael's esteemed guest, sent an unmistakable thrill through them. A twitch of Haarlep's tail betrayed their growing excitement, a reaction they could never fully suppress around you.

Silhouette sharpening into form, you entered the room, a teasing smile curving your lips. "Haarlep!" your voice a soft serenade that filled the chamber. With a swift motion, you closed the distance just as Haarlep left the comfort of the bed. You leaped into Haarlep's waiting arms, "I couldn’t resist another visit to see my favorite incubus." you murmured, your forehead resting tenderly against theirs.

A low rumble vibrated in Haarlep's throat, a playful nip at your lip drawing out a delightful giggle from you. The scent of your arousal was potent, and Haarlep was confident the night would unfold with the sweet submission of your pleas for pleasure. Or so they thought. It was going as usual until that impish familiar of yours slinked in behind you.

The thing harbored a deep-seated disdain for Haarlep, seizing every chance to mock and undermine the incubus. Impsy's sharp tongue was a notorious irritant, even among the thick-skinned denizens of the infernal.

Despite your cautions, Impsy relished in provoking your "lover," Haarlep. "Oh, Haarlep, you poor excuse for an incubus," Impsy sneered with a taunting cackle. "Oh?! What’s this?? A tail flick? Are we a puppy wagging its tail for a treat from master, Raphael?"

Haarlep met Impsy's derision with a smirk. "Impsy, always the jealous little creature. I imagine I could find a use for that sharp tongue of yours," they retorted with a suggestive wink.

Impsy's response came as a sneer. "Can’t you find someone else to bother other than, Tavy? And no, I'd rather not sully my palate… I don’t like the taste of garbage."

Ignoring the exchange, Haarlep turned their attention back to you, their touch firm yet gentle, a silent promise of the night's intent. Impsy watched, seething, as Haarlep's hands claimed you with possessive ease.

Displeased, Impsy lashed out, interrupting the intimate moment by climbing onto your shoulder, their tail maneuvering around your neck to keep it from falling. Impsy pushed Haarlep's face away. "Back off, lover- boy? Girl? The fuck are you anyway?," the imp spat.

"Impsy!" you gasped, a mix of admonishment and shock in your voice.

Feigning innocence, Impsy met your gaze. "What?"

In that brief distraction, Haarlep smacled the imp from your shoulder and subdued Impsy with their tail. "You never learn, do you?" Haarlep chided, their grip tightening around the struggling imp as Haarlep placed you back down so they could get closer to the imp. "Remember, I'm not just any incubus; I'm a connoisseur of both pleasure and pain. Cross me again, and you'll learn the difference."

With Impsy momentarily contained, Haarlep's attention returned to you, their kiss resuming with renewed fervor. You melted into their embrace, your hands exploring the planes of Haarlep’s body. They were warm to the touch, their skin feeling almost like velvet despite their fiendish texture.

Impsy though, not one to give in so easily, wriggled its way out of Haarlep's tail. The imp's head barely sticking out but enough to where it could bite down firmly on Haarlep's tail. It caused no more than a slight flinch from the incubus. Undeterred, Haarlep released the imp and resumed devouring you whole... Much to Impsy's dismay. The imp crossed its arms and tapped its foot in annoyance.

As Haarlep walked backward, savoring your closeness, Impsy plotted a swift act of mischief, positioning itself to trip the unsuspecting incubus. But fate intervened; Haarlep stumbled over Impsy, and both you and the incubus plunged into the oversized bath, water cascading over the edges.

"Tavy!" Impsy cried, rushing to the bath's edge in concern.

Haarlep's hand emerged, seizing the meddling imp and dragging it beneath the surface. "This will cost you, impling." Haarlep growled, only to pause as they noticed your bubbles rising. With a last-second change of heart, Haarlep released Impsy, allowing the creature to bob back up just as you reemerged, soaked and breathless.

Your drenched hair plastered to your features, your garments clinging to your form, you moved to Haarlep, concern etching your voice. "Haarlep, are you ok?" Your fingers tenderly swept the wet hair from their face, ignoring Impsy's floundering in the bath.

Haarlep responded with a reassuring smile and nod, their tail encircling your waist to pull you near. They caressed your lips, a silent affirmation. You kissed their thumb gently, then playfully drew it into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from Haarlep, "Such tempting lips." Their eyes fluttering closed as you continued your teasing. You released their thumb with a pop, leaving a thin, glistening thread between you.

Haarlep's arms enveloped you, encouraging your legs to encircle their waist. Their hand found the nape of your neck, drawing you into yet another kiss. You could sense Haarlep's growing desire pressing against your thigh, prompting a moan to escape into their kiss.

"I give up," Impsy muttered, defeated, on realizing its presence was unnoticed amid your passion.

Haarlep's lips found your neck, their fangs drawing shivers and soft cries from you. "H-Haarlep," Their tail ventured further, playfully teasing beneath the fabric of your dress as the bathwater swirled around you.

Impsy, with a flick of its tail, propelled itself out of the water, shaking off the droplets before vanishing into the shadows, its intervention clearly unneeded.

An hour passed, and the imp returned, only to find you still in Haarlep's embrace, both of you asleep in the soothing water. Haarlep's arms were relaxed over the tub's edge, a picture of contentment painted on their face. But even in this moment of tranquility, Haarlep could sense a pair of tiny eyes fixated on them. Opening their eyes, Haarlep was met with Impsy's piercing gaze. The imp stood there, arms crossed while looking down at Raphael's sex toy. Haarlep couldn't help but to smirk, knowing full well that the imp was about to unleash another barrage of insults.

"You and I both know your kind can't fall in love," Impsy spat. It's frustration evident. It's little tail flicked in an attempt to strike Haarlep's forehead, but the incubus swatted it away with a playful yet firm motion. Haarlep then reached down to stroke the back of your head gently, their touch almost protective.

Impsy's fury grew with each stroke, "Can you even truly feel love? Can you understand it's depth and sacrifice?" The imp looks at it’s beloved Tavy, then around the room, Raphael's room to be exact... Sighing, Impsy's voice was softer than before, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, "Face it, Haarlep. This isn't love." Impsy flung its hands in the air, "She couldn't ever be fully yours..." The imp frowned, "Whenever you violate her body it's not just you enjoying it... It's that bastard, Raphael as well… He can feel her, right? You’re just a means to his pleasure.“

Haarlep's facial expression fell while Impsy continued.

“The only reason you’re allowed to see her is because he allows it and because it benefits him…”

The impling was correct. This wasn't Haarlep's room, nor was it yours. It was Raphael's. In the same token this wasn't even Haarlep's true body giving you the pleasure you so desperately craved, it was Raphael's, crafted for his own gratification. Haarlep was an illusion. An image created by this devil…

The incubus looked down at you, their heart a mix of emotions as their fingertips graced your bare skin. This was the closest Haarlep could ever be with you and it was only because Raphael willed it so…

Impsy plopped down on the baths edge next to Haarlep, its little feet soaking in the warm water, “It’d be best just to let her go, even if she doesn’t want that.” Your imp could see the way Haarlep’s hold on you was unrelenting, they were still a demon, a creature fueled by evil… Chaotic at that. Impsy sighed once more, “But you won’t do that, will you?”

The incubus smirked, their eyes glowing as they gazed down at the sleeping beauty in their arms. It was true. Haarlep couldn't just release you. Even if it would benefit you, the selfish part of them would always win out. It was their very nature to take what they wanted and Haarlep desired you more than anything or anyone else. No matter how many times they tasted your sweetness, or fed on you, it was never enough. Their thoughts were interrupted by a tiny hand slapping the top of their head, it was Impsy. The imp stared into Haarlep's face with an intense look of irritation. His face scrunched up in frustration.

Haarlep had only managed a fleeting wave to the imp before disappearing with you in their arms. Soon after, the sound of their reappearance echoed through the space, prompting Impsy to hurry toward the origin. There, on Raphael's bed, lay you, still deep in slumber, held close by Haarlep. Your bare chest was shielded by Haarlep's arms, and their tail discreetly covered you further, while Haarlep’s face was nestled in the crook of your neck, hiding from view.

Impsy approached the bed with a mix of concern and frustration. "Damn you, Haarlep! Raphael will be back soon, won't he? Let her go back home for now!"

Haarlep's response was to clutch you tighter, “My brat can deny me nothing, impling." A mischievous smile played on their lips, "If you think you can persuade me to relinquish my prized possession, you are sorely mistaken." A low chuckle followed their words, and they provocatively slid their tail along your thigh. "She desires me every bit as much as I desire her," Haarlep stated, twisting their body to seize Impsy's tail and draw the imp up onto the bed with you both. "You might as well come to terms with the fact that she will stay with me."

Impsy struggled in their grasp, the incubus never looking at the creature, "And as long as I have her, Raphael will too. So be it, so long as it's I she comes crawling to." Haarlep wrapped their arms around Impsy and pulled it in close to you, locking the impling in their embrace.

Though Impsy attempted to resist, the warmth emanating from your sleeping form was too comforting, causing it to close its eyes and cuddle closer. While both you and Impsy were enveloped in Haarlep's secure embrace, none could see the sorrow lurking in Haarlep's eyes—a sorrow that mirrored the pain on their face. Despite Haarlep’s outward show of confidence and possession, Haarlep recognized the truth in Impsy's earlier words. This entire affair was orchestrated by Raphael, and as a result, you could never truly belong to Haarlep alone.

༺ 𝑅𝒶𝓅𝒽𝒶𝑒𝓁 ༻

The imp, known as Impsy, continued to hurl insults about Raphael with reckless abandon. As you walked down the hall towards Raphael's boudoir, Impsy dangled loosely in your arms, surveying the surroundings of the so-called "house of hope." It wasted no time in expressing its disdain, "I don't get why you stay here in this cheap-smelling perfume foundry."

With a snap of its fingers, Impsy conjured an apple and rubbed it against its arm, eyeing the fruit with delight as it continued its verbal assault, "House of Whore is what it should be called. It smells just like the courtesans up in Baldur's Gate." You glanced down at Impsy, raising an eyebrow at its audacious remarks. "What? I'm only saying you could do better. At least the incubus can keep you pleased, I suppose."

Shaking your head, you halted just outside Raphael's boudoir. "Do you think you could be nice to him just this once, Impsy? And for the love of the gods please don’t bring up Haarlep, it’s a- well”

“Touchy subject?” Impsy interrupted.

Your face twisted with concern, “Well, yeah…”

“Thennn mayyyybe the old half breed devil shouldn’t let you sleep with the- I dunno, the fucking INCUBUS!! You know, the very creature that lives for making love.” Impsy casually took a bite of its apple.

You on the other hand grabbed your head as you continued to cradle your imp in your other arm. Gods, you wanted to tell Impsy to pipe down, but your little familiar had a point… Raphael brought the insecurities onto himself, and now that Impsy was here it didn’t help. Your little impling wasn’t too keen on Raphael, and whenever Raphael got close it would make some sort of remark or push its way between the two of you… You almost felt bad for Raphael for having to deal with both Haarlep and Impsy... Almost.

“Please, just for today, Impsy. Let me have a lovely evening with him. He’s been through enough ever since Gale took the crown for himself.”

Impsy rolled its eyes dramatically, a mischievous grin playing on its lips. "For you my gorgeous, anything. But I hate when the old creep calls you “little mouse”. He says it one more time, and I'm going in fireball blazing." The imp said jokingly, it would allow a peaceful evening.

Acknowledging the imp with a warm smile, you entered the boudoir. "Raphael!" The affection in your call was unmistakable, a testament to your eagerness to be reunited.

Raphael gave you a courteous bow and that familiar, tender smile. "Ah, so you’ve finally decided to grace me with your presence once more. Welcome back, my dearest little mouse."

However, despite its promise- this time, Impsy was not about to let it slide.

Your imp flew out of your arms and positioned itself by your side. "Okay, 'pipsqueak'," Impsy's fingers bent in quotation marks, "Seriously, Tav, why are you with a halfbreed like this? I mean, come on! The guy can't even do his own bidding. He's like a parasitic lemure, hanging off of daddy's little coattails." Raphael's face contorted in anger as Impsy spoke carelessly, "kinda looks like one too. I mean, look at those sagging cheeks! No wonder you made Haarlep look younger-"

"You contemptuous creature!" Raphael lunged for Impsy's throat, but the imp swiftly dashed behind your back, seeking refuge from his wrath.

Hoping to quell the rising storm, you stepped in.

"Raphael, it's just Impsy being... itself. Don't let it rile you." Your words were a plea for calm in the brewing storm.

Raphael, still seething, managed to bite back his anger. "Fine," he spat out, "but your imp would do well to watch its tongue. My tolerance has its bounds."

Impsy, poked its head from behind your back, stuck out its tongue at Raphael, and quickly hid again. The room was thick with tension, a testament to the bitter relationship between Raphael and your familiar. As you stood there, caught between them, you knew keeping the peace would be an ongoing challenge, one that required not just diplomacy, but perhaps a hope for the impossible: an imp with a muted tongue and tempered spirit.

Which would never happen.

Words did so little for Raphael as well, so instead you did the very thing his human counterpart enjoyed the most. Standing on your tiptoes you grazed your lips against his, the gentlest of pecks before pulling back and staring up at him with true affection, your hands resting on his chest.

Raphael's anger began to melt away as your lips touched his, and a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His hand found its way to your chin to hold you in place, and for a moment, the tension in the room dissipated.

Impsy, however, lived for such turmoil and, despite the peace, couldn't help but strike once more. "Oh, look at the 'Devil' pretending to know love's tender embrace. Is this part of the deception to ensnare another soul?" it taunted with venomous glee.

You shot a sharp look at the imp, frustration simmering. Why must it always push the boundaries of civility? Turning back to Raphael, you opened your mouth to apologize, but the sentiment was never vocalized. Instead, you were caught in the stormy sea of his gaze, a dark tempest brewing once again.

Raphael's hold on your chin grew firmer, a growl escaping him, quiet yet laced with a threat as cold as ice. "Enough," he warned, his snarl barely audible. "Should that imp utter one more insolence, it will regret the day it crossed me."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew that Raphael was capable of great violence, and you had no doubt that he would carry out his threat if provoked any further. "Please," you implored, the words spilling from your lips, a tremulous whisper.

"Please, not Impsy. It meant no harm, truly." Your eyes flicked to your imp, hoping for a glimmer of remorse that might quell the Raphael’s rage. Impsy's gaze, however, was a silent challenge, its apology as likely as a desert's bloom.

"Impsy," your call a fragile bridge across tumultuous waters, "Raphael has shown me only kindness and truth. Please, hold your tongue."

The imp's expression softened as it met your gaze, and for a brief moment, you thought that maybe you had gotten through to it. But then its features twisted into a sneer, and it let out a shrill laugh. "You can't seriously be defending this pathetic excuse for a devil," Impsy scoffed. "He's not even a real devil, just a watered-down version of one. And he's using you, can't you see that? He's only interested in you because you can help him get the crown!"

Raphael's grip on your chin was unyielding only now his fingers dug into your skin, "Ngh! R-Raphael? Y-you're hurting me..." You gasped, squirming under his touch. But your words fell on deaf ears, as Raphael's attention was focused solely on the imp.

You could feel the anger and frustration building inside of him, and you knew that you had to do something. You reached up, placing your hands on top of his. "Raphael, please. Let me go," you pleaded, tears stinging your eyes.

His gaze snapped back to you, his eyes momentarily softening, betraying a hint of regret before the steely resolve returned. His grip on your chin did not relent. "You will not tell me what to do, mouse.” he commanded coldly, "Apologize for bringing such chaos into my domain. Persuade me with your remorse, and I may yet spare the familiar so you can learn to control it."

You could feel your heart breaking, “I'm sorry," the words barely audible, “I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you." You were desperate now, your voice cracking with emotion.

But Raphael wasn't satisfied, "No, that won't do. Beg."

Beg?! You looked up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief. Could this really be the same Raphael you had fallen in love with? Right, he’s a Devil… And you’ve never provoked this side of him…

His hand was like a vice around your chin. "I said beg.”

Impsys tail fell, you were going to be the outlet of Raphael’s rage and the imp knew he was doing it on purpose to make a point. Would he actually hurt you though? Raphael was far more lenient than most others from the hells… But was it really a risk Impsy wanted to take?

“Alright, alright.” Impsy held its little arms in the air in surrender, “You proved your point, I’ll keep my “tiny” mouth shut.”

Raphael smirked at Impsy, knowing he had won, and his grip on your chin loosened slightly. "Good," he said, his voice still tinged with anger. "Now, go."

Impsy didn't need to be told twice. With a flick of its tail, the imp vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving you alone with Raphael.

"That's better," Raphael said, his tone softening. He released your chin and ran his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to stain your skin.

Your brows furrowed at him, your arms pushing him back slightly. He could see the distrust in your eyes and the way your body tensed up, your breathing becoming erratic. Raphael sighed, taking a step back to give you space. "I simply will not tolerate disrespect, especially from that imo." His voice was firm, but his eyes were soft. You could see he truly meant you no harm.

You nodded as you tried to regain your composure. "I understand. I'm sorry, about Impsy."

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the power behind it. Raphael was truly a devil, that much was true, but there was also a part of him that made you feel safe.

"Now," he said, with his usual smile crossing his face, "shall we continue?"

He leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your hands gripping his shoulders. Raphael kissed you with a passion you had yet experienced, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You couldn't help but think about how strange it was. How, just a few minutes ago, he had been threatening you and your little impling…

[silentwhispofhope]

*Limping to your request box* I MISSED YOU AND I WANT TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA FILLED WITH FLUFF!! Is it okay to request?

💞[Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU]✍️ 🖌️ - Reader is an artist and constantly draws many art in their skin because it's just so satisfying! Their soulmate Vash feels appreciated, in love, and beautiful whenever Reader's drawing appear on his skin. Their art just gives him a reason to love his skin despite skin scars 🥺 🖋️ - Reader does calligraphy, and they sometimes quote the bible doing it cause why not? Soulmate Wolfwood just looks with a soft, maybe teasing smile as he sees his soulmate's work. 😎 📜 - Reader is a poet and they randomly have ideas and prompt all throughout the day, so they grab a pen and start writing all the poetry from their head. Soulmate Knives who's intellectual and curious admires whenever his soulmate's writing appear on his skin, he just covers it from others eyes because pest don't deserve to see this beauty. 🌱

YOU CAN PICK TWO OUT OF THE THREE!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE MY FRIEND!!! 😍💝💌

- Sugar Plum Anon 💟

A/N: Just for you Sugar Plum Anon, I’ll do all three <3 I do hope you’re alright though! Please do stay safe! Since I’m doing all three, I hope you’re alright with headcanons instead of normal lil’ one shots. :)

Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU Headcanons

Vash

He was absolutely scared out of his mind when he first saw the ink appear on his skin. He even went as far as to try to scrub his skin raw, and the ink was still fresh as ever. Poor blondie is wondering how the hell something like this is happening.

Meanwhile, you’re doodling like there’s no tomorrow with your ballpoint pen, tracing the outlines of your veins and doodling smiling faces.

Over time, Vash learns to just accept the random appearance and disappearance of drawings across his body. At the end of the day, it’s like a fun little game to see what’s been sketched on him underneath his turtle neck.

It takes a while for Vash to realize that it’s his soulmate doodles appearing on his skin. Warmth floods his heart each time he thinks of this, causing him to lovely trace the marks across his own skin.

He would laugh sometimes at the sudden ink smear appearing on his skin before new sketch marks appeared, your work hypnotizing him. He especially loved when you used different colors, almost painting his skin like a canvas. Eventually, he makes the move to respond.

So imagine your surprise when you find a poorly drawn flower appear on your skin. Ensue the same panic Vash experienced when you remembered you didn’t draw that.

Wolfwood

Scrubbing his skin did nothing. Seeing the scripture on his forearm made him wonder if he had perhaps gotten too drunk the night before and had gotten a tattoo.

The fancy calligraphy was choice, especially with that proverb. For the lips of the adulterous woman drop honey, and her speech is smoother than oil. Wolfwood decided that there could be worse things etched into his skin from that old religion.

You, on the other hand, were giggling to yourself. Oh, the irony of something appearing to beautiful but naughty. A snort escapes from one of your nearby friends.

He didn’t put anymore thought into it until the next day when the ink disappeared. Lowkey, thought he was super dehydrated for him to imagine that, but nope, even after drinking tons of water, the ink was no longer on his skin.

Cue some praying. He nearly has a heart attack when more ink appears on his skin. He has to go back to the orphanage and ask the elders for help on understanding the situation. Turns out it’s a soulmate thing, one which they didn’t even bother to mention until now.

Overtime, he appreciates the calligraphy he appears on his skin, particularly when new motifs appear. Wolfwood liked seeing you test new things and watch as the ink appear on his skin.

However, he was very glad to wear long sleeves when you would write down a particularly dirty proverb like 5:19. He would always end up blushing a bright red like a tomato, a huge contrast to his normal, stoic personality.

Imagine, your surprise when you notice fresh ink on your skin. For your ways are in the full view of the LORD in basic script.

Knives

He almost didn’t see the script appear on his arms, the ink nearly blending into his suit and pale skin. His fingers traced the letters he could make out. Knives immediately knew what this meant, it was his soulmate reaching out- most likely not knowing what was happening.

He tried to ignore it the best he could and kept himself covered with his cloak. Having someone would just drag him down, make it harder to reach his goal of eradicating humanity. However, his curiosity got the best of him.

Taking another look, the bleach blond quickly recognized the letters as chords with their denoted accidentals. Luckily for him, he new how to play. It was child’s play, really.

Meanwhile, your trying to understand how to play different songs only by listening too them. You were too stubborn to look them up, very confident in your ability.

And so it became a pattern for him to decipher your song you had written on his arm. He would spend hours playing the piano, watching the notes on his arm be crossed out and replaced. The composition rarely stayed imprinted on his skin for longer than a day.

Often, Knives would see lyrics being written with the chords. A little artist are we now? His small joke to himself caused a small smile. He would end up humming them, his low voice cutting through the air. It was for the sake of rhythm, he told himself.

Imagine your surprise when you saw a new. mark you knew you hadn’t inscribed into your skin, a word marked out for another.

[extremelyaverageartist]

Remade the drawings in this post I made a while back of a Little Nightmares Genloss crossover AU based on a post from @sanny-star-eyed

My art has improved significantly since then and I didn't include Sneeg last time so I made him as well! Although even though my art has gotten better I still cannot draw feet for the life of me lmfao.

I might also remake a few of the other drawings I made later.

Also also I did a little bit of like, lore building in my head while drawing because my plan was to write a fic but since that might not happen I'll just explain some stuff here.

Charlie: Mutated after coming into contact with some experimental technology at Showfall(Showfall is simmilar to the broadcast tower in the second little nightmares in this AU) and now excretes sticky slime that allows him to crawl up walls(I've been thinking about a lot of this stuff in the context of game mechanics so it could be used to solve some puzzles, get into places Sneeg and Ranboo can't get, etc.)

Ranboo: Robot created by Showfall meant to lure and exterminate the children(because the children are sort of seen as pests) he went rouge and gained sentience after Showfall collapsed(there was an event where the technology at Showfall went rogue causing the company to shut down, however broadcasts still air from it because no one is there to turn them off the building is just delapadated now) Some of Ranboo's original programming is still there however causing their mask to occasionally turn on and making them have to fight the control of it(simmlar to Six's hunger in the first game)

Sneegsnag: Normal child, his best friend Frank was killed and Sneeg, unable to let go, salvaged what was left of the body to carry with him, making weapons out of Frank's bones and carrying around his skull and spine. The skull and spine occasionally move and the eyes emit a blue glow, as if the skeleton is possessed by Frank's spirit and Frank would be used to solve some puzzles. However I wanted it to be sort of left ambiguous whether the skeleton actually moves or if Sneeg is just imagining it, because it only happens when no one else is around.

[xlethalhadesx]

The opportunity chapter 3

a/n: Honey, honey wake up, Hades posted a new chapter of the opportunity . Yes, after a few days, i decided to post the next chapter of this fic. it takes me a while to write these things because i am drawing him as well just haven't finished it yet. i do take request and ideas as well if you have any.

warnings: heimdall being heimdall as always, FAIR WARING im writing heimdall in a slow develop so this man is TOUGH to crack but it'll be allll worth it.

words: 1,8k

ps: here's his playlist ehehhehehehe

“Get up,” Heimdall commanded, looking at you from afar as you struggled on the floor, getting up with a slight grunt. Odin insisted that you received training after your travel with Thor, Odin saying for you to leave Asgard you have to at least know somewhat defensive training, he wasn’t calling you weak, just wanted to learn, so you could be safe but what you didn’t know was that you were going to receive training from the worst person you could imagine. 

Waking you up, bright early in the morning for something that felt more like a beating than training. Flexing your knuckles on the grip of your wooden sword, “do I have to do this?” letting out a big sigh, finally able to stand up longer than a couple of seconds. You two circle around each other, light footsteps in the mud of the training ground, he wasn’t even looking at you. Probably at something behind you, not giving you a breath of care.

 “I don’t know why you are complaining, I thought blacksmiths could ACTUALLY fight” mocking you with a smirk on his lips, you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face, charging at him again.

He saw it coming a mile away, dodging your pathetic attempt, “my, my, did I strike a nerve?” sticking a foot out to make you trip, something you fell for but caught yourself quickly, not trying to fall into the mud again.

 This fight started to feel like bullying, of course, because it’s Heimdall after all, he didn’t try, and he didn’t care. Which pissed you off, even more, the fact that he wasn’t even taking you seriously. It seemed like he made it his objective to make you feel like utter trash compared to him, “you have your foresight, that’s the only reason you're better” you’ve had with him, circling each other with the need to at least get a hit on him.

“Even without foresight, I’m still better” looking at his nails, not giving you even the slightest glance. Swinging your sword at him again, dodging with no effort, “the more you try to hit me in predictable places, the more tired I get” every word made it feel like he was stepping on you, doubting your ability to fight for yourself. You decided to take another approach coming at him with your full speed of nonstop swinging, he dodges with great speed, laughing at her attempts, and shoving her down to the ground with a big kick afterward “So pathetic. Do you commoners ever learn?” He crouches down to you, smirking like an asshole.  Lifting yourself up with a slight grunt, you look up at him from below, pissed. Treating you as if you are any different from him.

“I always learn” 

Using your hand to flick the mud under you to him, get his clothes coated in mud, smirking. He grimaced at his shirt, looking back at you in disgust before pointing the sword's tip at your neck “fucking pest” you felt the sharpness of his sword dig into your neck, wincing in pain, and the thoughts in your head weren't helping either. Started overthinking the situation, Is he going to kill you or do something even worse, not until you heard that slight crackle of thunder in the sky. “Ugh, shit.”  Pulling the blade away from your neck and sheaths his sword, turning around. 

Thor appears furrowed, looking between you and his brother. “Mind telling me why y/n is on the floor, …covered in mud” he questioned him, walking up to you two. Your eyes find the god of thunder standing near you, still sitting on the ground, below Heimdall. Today was your lucky day having your ass saved by him, you didn’t expect it to happen either. 

Heimdall looked up at the taller man, rolling his eyes in response. “Don't you have other things to do” Thor didn’t really like that answer looking at him. From looking between these two, you could tell there was a lot of tension, just like how normal brothers usually have.

“ It doesn’t matter if I didn’t have anything to do, all father didn’t bring her here just for you to treat her like trash” he speaks in between his teeth, frustrated, and disgusted with his actions. Scoffing at him, Thor goes to pick you up by the shoulder, helping you if needed. 

The Aesir watches his brother, help you up, making him even more confused “I'm not treating her like trash, she already IS. Can't even throw a damn hit with the sword” what was his task here? Make you even madder or try to piss his brother off even more. The man only ignored his remarks, making sure you weren’t injured or anything.

“He isn’t wrong” he looks over at you, wondering why you're feeding into Heimdall's bullshit.

“You aren't, he's just an asshole, and you need a better trainer…one who is willing to help you. Will get sif to clean you up alright” he tells you, guiding you back to the lodge, not giving Heimdall any attention.

He knew you two were ignoring him on purpose,  “yes, have Sympathy for this commoner.” His tone was annoyed and almost tired in a way, kicking the mud in before turning around and walking away from the lodge. Probably to find someone else to mess with. Once Thor brought you to sif, her questions never stopped on who did it or why you're covered in the mud in the first place. These two were like an big brother and sister in a way, they were protective over you. Heimdall is the last person they want you to be around, Thor went on his way to Odin while sif talked about maybe getting training with her daughter or letting Thor help you. 

Another day of suffering from Heimdall's worse training is not on your bucket list.

XXXXXX

It was getting late on Asgard, you sat inside the lodge sharpening a small pick knife you made while you sat at the mess hall table. Trying to distract yourself from earlier events that transpired, a tap on your shoulder caught you off guard, making you jump. Turning around, it was only sif holding a plate before sitting it down.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but could you go get Heimdall for me? Dinner is going to be served.” You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t realize how late it was getting.

Standing up, and stretching, you look at her, “where is he?” You asked, you never really knew where he slept, washed, or even went whenever he was not doing his ‘job’.

“There’s a small cabin built near the wall, all father built that little thing for him to be close to the wall for less traveling. You’ll find him there.” Hearing all that made you question many other things this place has, only finding out today where Heimdall usually hides. Coming outside being greeted by the cold breeze of the night, wasn’t freezing cold, but you loved the feel of it. Taking the pathway as you walked past buildings and structures of Asgard, the town was quiet around this time. Something you aren’t quite used to yet.

Coming up on a hill, and seeing the cabin sif was talking about. Squinting your eyes, you could see Heimdall talking to some women, maybe another Aesir or who knows. You thought the conversation was going well, not until the woman shakes her head and walks away from him, heading in a different direction. You waited a few seconds before walking up to him, he noticed your approach, sighing from being welcomed by another annoyance 

“What do you want?” looking at you with a flat expression on his face. You really wanted to kick him in the dick, but you were too tired for any of the consequences.

“Sif told me to come to get you for supper,” you told him, his expression changed slightly, looking somewhat relaxed then back to its flat expression. Walking past you without warning nor an answer, “I’m guessing that’s a yes” you followed behind heading back to the lodge with him, the walk was silent since he already didn’t like your presence around him. Arriving back at the lodge, the table was plated and Thor just came to sit down once you two walked in. Heimdall sat on the with Odin, you were sitting in between all father and Heimdall, Thor and his wife chatted about a few things while you sat silent.

You're surprised that the foresight sat silent too, probably just listening to Odin talk his ears off about something “so, how did the training with Heimdall go?” Thrud asked in a whisper, turning to her with a slight smile.

“It was something, I’m lucky to even be alive”

“He can truly be an asshole when you're fighting him” Heimdall’s eyes glanced over at her with a grunt of annoyance, hearing the asshole part, the two of you talked more about fighting and different techniques. Sparking a light in you that made you talk about the many things your father taught you, even though it was a lot, thrud didn’t mind listening to you. You were so focused on that, you didn’t know the watcher scanned you a few times with his purple irises. He’ll never admit it, but your conversation sounded more interesting than what the all father was talking about to him. Tonight you were lucky, avoiding any of Heimdall’s daily bullying.

When everyone finished their meals, you volunteered to clean up the tables, assisting the cooks. Hearing the door of the lodge open and close, you look up to see Heimdall enter. He must’ve come in here for all father, as you collected the plates you felt an over looming presence near you. Gazing beside you, seeing the Aesir look at you with narrowed eyes, what could be wanted this late? 

“Yes?”

He lets out a heavy sigh that could notice his chest moving, “I apologize for throwing you in the mud earlier”  at first you didn’t hear him, or you just weren’t hearing him correctly. Was he apologizing to you? From the look in his eyes, you could tell he was focusing on your thoughts, licking his pink lips in annoyance. Wait, why were you looking at his lips just now. “Yes, I am apologizing to you, commoner.” He repeats himself, so you could get some clarity on the situation. 

“Oh, it’s alright just don’t be a dick next time” he watched you get back to what you were doing, cleaning the table as if he wasn’t there. You continue to wipe the table, he takes the dishes you collect and takes them to the kitchen without you noticing until you look up. Seeing him leave the kitchen, the look on your face was priceless. Maybe he was considering your words for the first time in months.

“Be ready by the morning for your next training, commoner” or maybe you hoped a little too soon but some progress is better than no progress.

a/n: i Hope you enjoyed this chapter and i might post some art soon who knows

[dadrielle]

trick or treat 👻

Happy Halloween! Here’s a witchy bit of a cut scene from Fixed Twixt Drear Trees that I had to cut because it was spiraling into much too large a beast:

“Can’t b’lieve I ‘most got took out by kid, swiping at me like I’m a pest. No ‘preciation, absolutely appalling.”

Laudna reached up to tickle his stomach, making him squawk indignantly. “You’ve had worse things swipe at you, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Soft footfalls hushed them both, and a creak on the stairs heralded the girl’s tentative arrival. She had deep red frizzy hair in a long braid, and a shock of freckles just like Imogen’s, and so Laudna immediately felt predisposed to like her. She waved her in, but then tossed both her hands up in sudden warning, making the girl freeze like a startled deer. “Ut ut- mind the chalk! I don’t want to draw all this again, never mind how much it costs. Just…stay there!”

The constant motion of Laudna’s hands took on more purpose as she murmured the incantation. The natural shimmer of the gemstone dust in the chalk, catching the sunlight filtering through the window, seemed to suddenly freeze, before slowly rising, smearing up into the air like a bright, trailing afterimage. Another second, and the light pulsed, then exploded in strength, bursting forth into a blue so intense, it seemed nearly white. The magic in the air skittered across Laudna’s skin like static, and the circle hummed in place. Laudna pointed at the girl. “I just need to do the same thing on the other side, wait just like, 2 minutes, ok? Back in a momennnnnt!” Then she hopped in the circle.

A feeling like a warm wave of sunlight passed up her body from her feet to her head, and then she was in Yios at the usual spot. She immediately began tracing out the sigils again, hurrying through the spell as quick as she dared. She didn’t want to botch it and waste all the fancy components, of course, but she was going to vibrate right out of her body if she didn’t get to chat with her new visitor soon. She was terribly glad today one of the other Hells was not meeting up with her on this side - she would have had to ditch the fuck out of them and really, Ashton at least still had a complex about that, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Excellent luck to avoid that problem altogether.

Decidedly more than 2 minutes later, Laudna felt the wood of the barn loft under her feet again, task complete. The girl had stayed despite Laudna’s poor time estimation, and was peering curiously at the various spell components and craft supplies strewn across Laudna’s work table. She kept her arms tucked behind her even as she stretched so far over the table Laudna could almost imagine her craning neck was getting longer from sheer force of will.

She clapped her hands together, and the girl jumped. “Now then! Hello! Who are you!”

“Oh um. Is it safe to give my name to you?” The girl pulled her skirt up into her hands, worrying the edges of it, not quite making eye contact.

Laudna cocked her head to the side.

“I don’t see why not! I don’t plan on doing anything, like, weird to it. Mine is Laudna, and this rapscallion is Pâté.” He lifted his head from his nest in her hair, and the girl eyed him warily. It filled Laudna with an unexpected rush of sadness. Sometimes it seemed like he took on the burden of fear for her - how much less scary the cold, unnatural women seemed when juxtaposed to living taxidermy! It wasn’t fair. He was such a good boy. She made a mental note to find him some sort of treat later, just because.

“Oh. Nice to meet you? I’m Adelrune.” Her eyes skittered back up to Laudna’s hair. “And…how do you do, Pâté?”

He brought his head down so his beak was hanging over Laudna’s forehead, and she fought the urge to look up at it cross-eyed. His little paw thrust out over her brow in an accusing point.

“You’re not gonna swat me again, are ya?”

“No! “ The girl shook her head so vehemently, the edge of her braid popped her right in the nose. “I’m sorry, you just startled me, is all. I shan’t swat again, I promise.”

Satisfaction filled Laudna, at that. If she was willing to be kind to Pâté, then her initial instinct wasn’t unfounded. “Now then, Adelrune, what can we do for you?”

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” Curious eyes ran over the table again. “Some of the little kids said so.”

“I am indeed!”

“Do you know how to make love potions?”

Laudna leaned in eagerly. “I do not! How do you make them?”

Adelrune looked flummoxed, glancing to the dusty remains of the circle, the clear physical proof of the power of Laudna’s magic. “No, I- I need one?”

“Ah, well, I’m afraid I’m not that kind of witch, nor is my Imogen.” Laudna frowned, tapped her thumb against her forefinger. “Kinda nasty business, love potions, come to think of it. Why would you want that?”

[snarky-magpie]

(This one was fun to write. The whole fic is here.) Finally, he can’t take it anymore and snaps. “You’re being quiet.” 

James cocks his head, side-eyeing him. He takes a moment before giving an answer, as though considering what he should say.

“You said no more talking. I didn’t want to risk upsetting you into calling this thing off.” There’s a painful lilt to James’ voice. A bloody vulnerable quality. Like he cares about this. Cares about Regulus. Unacceptable. That’s not what this night is about. This night is about fucking each other’s brains out without feelings getting in the way.

“Well, stop it. It’s freaking me out. So, go ahead. You have my permission to do your thing.” 

James’ lips curve up, only a suggestion of a smile before he squashes it, and yet. Regulus’ knees wobble. 

It’s not fair he’s so pretty. Not fair, not fair, not fair. Dammit, I want to see that smile again. It’s like a gulp of hot tea with honey and lemon on a chilly day. Wait. What the hell? What’s that about? Fucking Potter and his smile are scrambling my brain.

“What exactly is my thing, Reggie?” 

Fuuuck. How has Regulus never noticed that James’ voice pours out like honeyed smoke? Dammit. He must be really horny. Next time, he’ll have to find a convenient shag before he gets so desperate that he considers jumping into bed with the enemy his only option. 

It’s not, though, is it? My only option. I could go to any old bar and pull pretty much anyone.

Regulus has never been great at lying, even to himself. Rude, people call him. Brutally honest, he prefers to label himself. It runs both ways, so he knows he could leave this second, but the truth, the simple, ugly, unvarnished truth, is that he’s not willing to leave.  

“Being a bloody pest. And talking a mile a minute.”

James hums.

“That too. Humming. Singing under your breath. Do you know how distracting it is when I need to focus, and you keep producing every kind of sound under the sun?” 

“Why do you complain when I’m quiet, then?” Amusement makes the words come out all shaky with repressed laughter.

“It doesn’t suit you.” The words slide out and cut the conversation in half. Before and after. Regulus regrets he can’t take them back, but what’s done is done, so they’re marinating in the awkwardness of the moment as they’ve arrived at James’ building. When they draw to a stop, James turns to Regulus.

“I thought you hated everything about me.” He takes a step closer. Then another. And another, final one that closes the gap between them so James can put his hand on the small of Regulus’ back.

“I do. Fuck, you can’t even imagine how much. Despise you. Loathe you. Fucking hate—” 

James cuts Regulus off by slotting their mouths together before he can finish his list of reasons why James represents everything terrible about this world and Regulus’ existence.

“Do you hate this, too?” James asks as he sends his tongue plunging into Regulus’ mouth, cutting off his air supply. Yes. That’s why he can’t reply that yes, he hates this too. The most, in fact. He hates it so much, all the complaints sitting in his throat come out as moans. 

[rotationalsymmetry]

Apparently I have a thing for dystopian crapsack hellscape worlds in fiction.

I love imagining somehow getting Vin out of the Mistborn world and just having her hang out with me in my everyday life. I find my bathroom boring (my husband bought us a gray shower curtain, whyyy) but I can imagine her sense of wonder at the white walls without a trace of soot, and being amazed to find out this isn't some super-rich thing that it takes a household of servants to maintain, but something nearly anyone can have.

I picture her seeing the colors on the shampoo bottles and the little pink heart-shaped soap in the soap dish and her face lighting up.

And then I come out into the kitchen, and Vin sees the vase spilling over with flowers in yellow and pink and red.

I imagine Gideon getting isekai'd the fuck out of The Locked Tomb Trilogy and getting a job in construction or as a mover or as an EMT, and making friends and getting laid and staying up way too late watching internet porn or baiting trolls, and just living her best life in a place where she can live a life. I picture her taking a hot bath every day, sometimes two or three times a day, just because she can, because she never has to spend all night shivering in a cold cell ever again. I picture her buying so many pillows you can't see the bed.

It's not as compelling with El Scholomance, because she does get out, but I can think about her having to sort through curses and magical pests to get any food, and it still doesn't actually taste good and there's usually not quite enough of it, and then biting into a slice of pizza with the cheese going all stringy. I can, in my head, have her sit next to me in the drawing class I took freshman year, on the third floor, shading spheres and cones, knowing it's the last class of the day and after that we get to go home. I can have her go to fencing practice with me, meditate with me at lunch like I did senior year, watch the school musical. We can ride our bikes home. I can take her with me to the year I spent in Melbourne and we can play the flute with my neighbor, making up our own music, and we can do research about animal rights together (this was a good thing, I had more free time, so I could spend some time figuring out my values rather than only being focused on what my teachers wanted me to focus on), and we can make things with sculpy, and go on walks in the park at sunset when the sky is full of clouds and color.

And I can go back further, and Talia Heralds of Valdemar wasn't in a crapsack world but she was getting bullied and I could take her hand and get her away from there a bit so she could have some free time for a change. Go swimming in a lake. Use a bicycle press to make apple cider. Go to a poetry slam or go to a library, oh, I so want to show Talia a good-sized library. And further than that, to Lessa Dragonriders of Pern (warmth, color, comfort, safety) and Menolly (friends, conversation, companionship, freedom)

[katyspersonal]

*boots down door*

You mention Bloodborr OC's

GIMME ALL THE BACKGROUND!!!!

Allllllright, I think I will tell you about my favorite!

Strangely enough, I did only draw her ONE whole time so far, back in, what?.. June 2022? And it is only a headshot! But I always imagine her wearing cyan/indigo/grey clothes, fashioned after Old Hunters' aesthetic, and... a particular iron helmet with only one eye hole, yes. She is an OC based entirely on how you choose to read this line:

She appeared in my head based off a few factors; that we can clearly see Valtr being summoned with both eyes visible (not a single effort to obscure the second eye, unlike with Djura), we know that Impurity rune that LETS you see Vermin was discovered 'within a forbidden Beast Eater' (so, Valtr himself), we know that Valtr curses not only beasts but the 'freakish slugs and mad doctors', and we know that Clocktower Dial has a rune similar to Impurity but not exactly it:

(Thank you @val-of-the-north for handy refs ( x ))

That gave me a thought, aboutl Valtr being taken right into Research Hall labs upon his (rather dramatic) arrival in Yharnam; as someone who ate a beast, he was expected to be very much contaminated, and, well... Research Hall offered the so-called voluntary-obligatory treatment for such people. Either get killed before you became a beast, or be "treated" to not become a beast :') And this is where he met an Old Hunter Geranea, that was likewise dragged into research - and already missing one eye, since all patients get one eye removed to become an Eye Pendant + for easier access to their brain.

I always presumed runes system was a deciphering system more than it was a set number of the runes, since Ludwig and Adeline were able to envision their own runes without Caryll! So, Impurity rune is special - it is a concept. Every person has their own alternative of Impurity rune, as it appeals to the individual concept of what IS evil. Geranea quickly caught up that there was something abnormally filthy in Valtr and insisted that he should not have gotten 'water' treatment under any circumstances lest he'd erupt under it flourishing and die right after. People that yearn to exterminate evil see 'human dregs' as pests, but people who yearn to treat it peacefully see evil as flowers. Geranea was able to see the flowers akin tomb mold that you find across dungeons and Hunter's Nightmare sprouting from people before they died, as indication of how 'dirty' their blood was, and... let's say, Valtr had an extraordinary amount of them because of what happened to him.

She helped him to envision his own idea of evil as someone familiar with Caryll's runes language, deciphering the weird sounds his body was emitting, and helped him to escape by giving him her eye pendant to use as a bait on the string for a giant crow that was frequenting Research Hall's balcony - think of holding a carrot on the string before a donkey! As for her own fate? Well, she was able to see through utter corruption of both 'Sea' and 'Stars', rejecting both and becoming one of the few if not the only one patient that banished the Arcane from her body with raw hatred and willpower alone.

She would manage to escape the Research Hall and cover her identity in new costume and with the new weapon, to not get caught by the Assassins. And... of course, she'd get the bucket helm, to obscure her face! She was to contact Valtr later under new identity, but their friendship was just not meant to last; they had drastically different ideas on how to treat human dregs and fell apart in a very nasty conflict over it, parting their ways.

Ever since then, Geranea was a strange cross between a Hunter and a Blood Minister (don't confuse with Blood Saint!). She would find people afflicted with human dregs through seeing whether they displayed 'flowers' sprouting from them. Her having banished the Arcane influence from her very body and soul via spite alone granted her blood a special immunity against both Beast and Kin afflictions, so her treatment? It included taking the blood from a person, transfusing it into her own body, putting up the mental fight against this person's darkest impulses (or corruption of Great Ones), and, after immunity has been worked up, she'd give the 'healed' blood back to this person. Just... Giving them free antibodies against their OWN afflictions that she'd work on her own. Doesn't it sound like too good to be true?

Well, that it was. Not only effect of such immunity still COULD virtually wear down, but also poor Geranea would let evil, insanity and pain of people through herself over and over. And over and over and over and over and over... In the end, it cracked her up, and she grew to be corrupted and no longer able to process all this - becoming evil and twisted herself. Her last sane thought however? That was Valtr.

She crawled back to him, being terribly mutated and having twisted thoughts, reflecting empathy to all afflicted people she healed from their darkest impulses. Their last meeting in long time was essentially her telling him that he was right and begging to be killed, that he did. He knew what exactly ruined her, and his conclusion was: "The filth of this world doesn't deserve compassion of a kind soul".

He took her helmet though, as a further reminder to himself to always stay relentless before human dregs extermination, and never had a heart to alter it even one bit, despite having both eyes. However, he later met Yamamura, who reminded him of her with his tender, sensitive heart, and he was not to make the same mistake twice; so he was to send Yamamura away as a "spy" for Healing Church in hopes he'd find new friends there and forget the mission. Granted, Yamamura appeared to be a very stubborn and prideful man, so the mission still inflicted insanity on him - especially since he saw it through Valtr's rune, not his own.

So yeah, that's for the story..; In general, Geranea was a kind person willing to tolerate a bit too much and to sacrifice too much, that is a stark contrast to her resting bitch face and kind of a rude demeanour. I can't even call her a jerk with a heart of gold, she is just a good person that might appear slightly too forceful with wishing to help.

And! Flowers thing comes from my idea that many patients had lumenweed subtly growing on them during treatment! Here are Adeline's and Rom's for example:

Geranea's faded and died upon her rejecting the 'cosmos' with both her body and her soul, but she never got around removing them as they became too entwined with her hair. But I like to think that when she finally broke mentally, those flowers in her hair were glowing and flourishing again, as if to seek for salvation.

...Aaaaaanyway, I can't believe I never really drew her that much ;-; That face ref is like... this is IT. Boy, I gotta fix myself.

[davidpwilson2564]

Bloglet

Thursday, July 27, 2023

Morning. Talk to Kenichi. He is upstate, for a few hours. Thinks nothing of driving up there to attend to things (this is where he has stored numerous instuments). The drive is ninety minutes. I would find this exhausting but it is (it seems) nothing to him.

I look at this evening's music. On the MLB station see part of L A Angels game (would love to see them win a playoff spot but the odds are staggering). Shotei pitches a shutout against the Tigers. 111 pitches. But wait there is a second game. (I resolve to find out about it later. I find out. Shotei hit two homers. The boy is a phenomenon.

I meet P to head up to Scarsdale. We are talking about music when I realize (stupid, stupid, stupid) I have left my music on the stand, where I was going over it. P drives back. Shamed, I pick it up.

In Scarsdale. It looks like a beautiful night but a dark cloud closes in. Then, though not predicted, there is rain. The concert is delayed. We do a truncated version of our concert to a handful of the faitful.

Then, more rain. Driving home...OMG...rains torrential. Home. A drink. Fun playing a few notes and seeing a few people. Especially generous of P, having given me a ride.

Friday, July 28, 2023

Riccardo Muti is 82.

Evening: The Republican Party of Iowa 2023 Lincoln Dinner in DesMoines. Thirteen presidential candidates speak (try to imagine this). Each given ten minutes. (Hmm. No Chris Christie.) Trump is, of course, the main act. Being held to ten minutes he doesn't do a Castro-length rant but does manage to bring up the "rigged election" (can't let that go) and Biden's weponization of the justice system.

All but Will Hurd skip over the Trump indictments.  (Will Hurd: great name for a Texas congressman.) Hurd says to the pro-Trump crowd that their guy is running in order to stay out of jail. This draws loud booing.  

The intense heat continues. Perhaps there'll be a letup tomorrow. Maybe rain.

Note: The highlight of the week...Kenichi seeing Bernadette. Their talking as the people running the event tried to rush her along (she pleasantly resisted) and wave him away as if he were a pest (but he knew someone in security). Amid the craziness they got in their conversation.

to be continued

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo quite obviously chewed his tongue as she asked about how many monsters were around in his own world. They were so frequent that there was enough of a market to actually hunt them for sport but to him that of course was not unusual. "They're about as common as flies," he indicated instead, pests and considerably dangerous ones but people managed, they all fought back. Thankfully in her look around there were no large monsters emerging from passageways or from around buildings.

She knew his name and Theo cracked another smile half in disbelief. So she was his daughter? "A great honour it is to meet you then, Violet." He said, the name dropping off his tongue as if it belonged. "I don't think you want to call me father, but people call me Theodore or Theo for short." He suggested as the reverse.

He released her hand and there was some clarity there to her situation. She was adopted, it of course made no difference to Theo, his expression remained quite the same, filled with some awe. He did take some comfort though in not knowing about the biological children that he was also missing out on where his counterparts did not. Fourteen. She was very young but he did take some relief in understanding the different surnames.

She spoke more and Theo absorbed it, chuckling a little to himself at the mention of her firing questions. "Fastest draw in the county then?" he teased her playfully, managing a very warm smile while he couldn't decide if his heart was full or breaking from what he was learning. "Your father isn't a sheriff?" His predecessor must still be alive, he assumed not understanding just how different the timelines were. "If you're going to be stuck here for a while, I have an idea if I may?" He checked, crossing his hat onto his chest politely. "How about you ask me all those questions you have in your head at a slower firing rate, but come and have dinner with me and my wife? We can put you up in the loft for the night too."

It wasn't lost on him just how much of a coincidence it all was. Her turning up just as he was approaching that very spot. Her declaring she was his daughter from another timeline when he and Andrea pined for children but not the pain of the extreme danger of their world. It was almost too good to be true. Yet here was a young fourteen year old who was bitten by a monster and ended up in the wrong timeline, stolen from another version of himself who he imagined was longing to have her back. She did not strike him as evil nor plotting harm. She was a lost young lady, that was all.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet looked in the direction he indicated her. "Oh." That was a very orange and very visible tentacle. She felt a little bit silly, now. "I did not notice that," she admitted with an awkward chuckle. "What do you mean, they can't not know? Are there a lot of monsters here?" She couldn't help but look around, almost expecting a huge monster to leap from behind one of the buildings.

She could tell that her introductions had quite the effect on him, and she couldn't help but blush, moved by how emotional he suddenly seemed. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Beneventi," she replied with a little smile, and it felt weird to say that. Mr. Beneventi. "But please, you can call me Violet."

"I'm 14. My Dad adopted me and my siblings, after our parents died." But not here. Maybe he didn't know, maybe he had no way of knowing. If this was really the Wild West, how could he hear about three orphans, all alone in a completely different state? But what about Ben, Lou and Mia? Was he married to Andrea?

"I'm sorry, I know this is all very odd and very sudden. And truth be told, I may know your name, but I don't know anything else about you, about who you are here, in this timeline. My Dad isn't a sheriff! I have a lot of questions, but... I've been told I can fire questions at an alarming speed."

[march-harrigan]

OMG you did a White Rabbit reader with Jervis? Could you do a Chesire Cat type reader with Jervis? One whos like, Just as mad but is super self aware n shit?

So, I had to redo the second half of this one, but it's done! I enjoyed getting to do another Wonderland dynamic! Although I'm not sure I managed to make the madness shine through as much as I would have liked. More carefree/risky behavior than anything.

Maybe Cheshire Cat!Reader will make another appearance someday, so I can flesh them out more.

People would have thought you mad if they saw you in this part of town. And to be quite honest, they were probably right. It wasn't exactly the safest, and yet here you found yourself, almost daily if your schedule would allow it.

Which is where the madness came in. Even by Gotham's standards, this place was a hotspot for crime. Not just normal, every day crime either. When you came here, you were at risk of a run-in with some of Gotham's worst. But your passion for urban exploration outweighed your sense of self-preservation, and so you'd explored to your heart's content. Yes, your priorities were skewed. You'd be the first to admit that. However, you personally saw no problem with it. After all, everyone was a little off in their own way, right? Why should you be the exception?

Besides, if you hadn't taken the risk, you'd never have met Jervis Tetch. And it was Jervis who kept you coming back after that first trip into no man's land.

He called you his Cheshire Cat. Even when you'd first met, your smile had reminded him of Wonderland's perplexing, grinning feline. If that hadn't been enough for him to make the connection, your propensity for not giving straight answers did it. You'd appeared in his hideout as if from nowhere, and it took him nearly an hour to work out your reason for being there. You'd talked him in circles that whole time. "Why is anyone anywhere?" you had asked. So imagine his surprise when he realized how simple it was. All you'd wanted was to get out of the rain.

From that point on, he was intrigued by you. As intrigued as you were amused by him. The mutual interest led to further visits and before long, those feelings had developed into something else entirely. You'd never officially spoken the words, but it was a forgone conclusion that the two of you were an item now.

It was during today's visit that you nearly gave Jervis a heart attack. It was one of those rare, sunny days in Gotham and you'd planned on surprising him with a picnic. Unfortunately, when you arrived at his hideout this time, he wasn't home. This happened from time to time, but he usually wasn't gone for long unless he'd planned something big. And so you took it upon yourself to wait for him. Naturally, to you, this meant climbing up to the roof and watching for him. What else were you supposed to do?

It was a little under two hours later when he finally arrived. By this point, you were lying across the roof. Your arm with the picnic basket dangling lazily off the edge while you held your head propped up with the other. You whistled for his attention and the small man squeaked in surprise, halting in his steps. "Oh, good heavens dear, you gave me a fright! I thought you might me one of those Batspawn." His voice lowered into a growl at the mere thought of the vigilante pests.

"No need to get your cute little bowtie tangled, Hatter, sweetie," you chuckled, lazily giving him your signature grin. You swung your legs around in one swift movement and sat up. The action seemed to draw a gasp from him. Likely worried about your proximity to the edge. "It's just me."

"Y… Yes, I can see that," he replied, voice shaky. He noted the basket in your hand. "I, um… See my little Cheshire Cat was planning a… Picnic?"

"Mm, something like that~"

"Well, I… I'm afraid to say," the Hatter stuttered out, casting a brief glance up toward the sky. Sadly, the beautiful weather had come and gone before he got here, the sky now overcast with the all too familiar dark clouds. Typical Gotham. "The sky's quite gray. A picnic, yes! But… Not today. And on the roof, I dare survey, not safe, I say. Why not come down here and play?"

The rhymes came out rushed and haphazard, easily giving away his apprehension at your chosen spot. With a chuckle, you decided you wouldn't distress him any further and carefully climbed down. Once you were safely on the ground in front of him, you greeted Jervis with a small, chaste kiss. It served to calm his nerves, and as you pulled away, you held the basket up in front of him. "Who says we can't have a picnic, hm? Just because the sun declined our generous invitation?"

"I… Yes, I suppose. But it looks like it must rain."

"And?"

"Well… The food might get soggy, dear."

"Hm. I suppose you're right. Well," you sighed letting your arms drop so you were holding the basket in front of your legs. "Who enforces the rules for picnics anyway? The picnic police? Batman in a gingham checked cowl? I say we take this inside."

"Yes, yes! You're quite right, pussycat!" Jervis giggled, unable to shake the humorous image of Picnic Batman. He eagerly linked an arm in yours and escorted you inside. "An indoor picnic is just what we need!"

[caker-baker]

Tagged Out

“We’ve all agreed Supervillain needs to go down. We’re all aware of the plan. We all know the contingencies in place should one of us-” the leader shot the villain a look. “decide to go rogue. Are we all ready?”

“Don’t get too high and mighty.” The villain grinned. “I was the one who came to you.”

Leader’s lip curled. “Everyone out. Rendezvous point at twenty four hundred hours.”

When the majority of heroes filed out, the leader stopped the last one from leaving.

“Not you, Hero.” The leader let out a shaky breath, and sat at the conference table, motioning her hand to let the villain take the lead.

“Leader?” The hero questioned, side eyeing the villain.

The two fought, and frequently. Naturally, the hero was the first to object when the villain came to the organization.

“I struck a deal, pest.” The villain looked at the hero, silently urging them to give all their attention. “I knew what Supervillain was planning, I knew I didn’t want that happening in my city, and his insolence is-”

The leader cleared her throat, prompting the villain to stop.

“I digress.” The villain continued after taking a breath. “None of us want that to happen. I offered my extensive resources, knowledge, and power in exchange for keeping you away from the fight.”

“What?” The hero said, looking back to the leader.

“Hero, it’s not like we don’t want you there, you’re incredibly useful, but-”

“You see, it’s words like ‘useful’ that make me feel as if the little pest isn’t appreciated here.” The villain spat, turning their head to the side to examine the leader.

“Of course they are!” The leader stood, slamming her hands on the table.

“I’m not fighting?” The hero asked.

“That’s not to say we won’t let you in on anything. Recon, maybe?” The leader reasoned.

“Recon?” The hero scoffed. “Recon?”

“No!” The villain looked to the leader, than the hero. “No part of it. No recon, no medical, nothing. If you get involved in any way, I draw back all my forces, and remove myself from the fight.”

“That’s not what we agreed to!” The leader argued.

“We agreed they would stay away entirely. Recon is part of that. You aren’t clever.” The villain turned and spoke directly to the hero. “You’ll find I care very little for your wishes on this matter. It’s all or nothing. You try and join in, and your teammates will probably die.”

“Is that a threat?” The hero stepped closer to the villain.

“It’s whatever you like, pest.”

“I wouldn’t let you get anywhere near them.”

“It’s not me you have to worry about.” The villain gave a pointed look towards the leader, whose eyes were rapidly switching between hero and villain. “I offered to help. I will keep that promise so long as your end of the bargain is upheld. Supervillain dies, we all go home happy, yes?”

The hero stuttered for a moment, a sound that cracked right through the villain’s commanding tone.

“Wh- but you- they can’t do that!”

“Deals are made, Hero. Sometimes they aren’t always pleasant.” The leader’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I don’t like it either. You’re one of our best.”

“But if they can do this-” the hero argued. “imagine what they ask for next!”

The villain, somewhat contentedly amused with the squabble, leaned against the wall.

“This is just how Villain extends their power. They prove they have the ability to make someone sit out-” the hero motioned to themselves. “next, they try to get someone killed.”

“Oh, quite a jump there.” The villain snorted.

With the amount of glares the leader sent the villain’s way, the villain was beginning to think they had done something to affront her.

“That won’t happen, Hero.” She reassured. “This is a one time deal. We can all split ways after the fact, hm?”

“They’re abusing the power you’re giving them!” The hero argued.

That was when the villain had to step in. “Oh, most assuredly not the case.” They pushed themselves off the wall. “Look, pest, I could be much crueler. I could make an offer along the lines of ‘fire them, and my resources will constantly be at your disposal’.”

That had the leader’s spine suddenly snap up, causing a worried glance from the hero.

“But I haven’t, have I?”

Silence.

“Well. I’ve tested enough loyalties for one day.” The villain faked a leisurely stretch before taking their leave. “See you later, pest. But, not on the battlefield.”

The newly formed paper wall between Leader and Hero stretched thin.

[aerosiderwrites]

Archery Practice ... Yandere Childe x Harbinger!Reader

warnings for genre typical portrayals of unhealthy relationships... ngl childe is kinda tame in this one tho

Word Count: 2k

Mid-evening tended to be an unpopular time to train. Most were having dinner, finishing their work day, and getting ready for as restful night as possible in the frigid climate of Snezhnaya. You typically would as well, but with a lot to reflect on and frustrated energy, you brushed off the snow on your person as you entered a Fatui training facility. You gave a quiet greeting to the guards who manned the building, who stood at attention at your arrival. You paid them no second thought as you began to navigate the pristine building.

You followed a path down the corridors you knew by heart, as even years before your ascension to being a Harbinger you found yourself here more than at home whenever your weren’t on assignment. Most windows into the various gyms were dark, and the ones with people in them had young recruits of little consequence to you.

You turned a corner when you heard someone calling for you. You processed the distinct voice as Childe, the most recent addition to the Harbingers. You ignored him, hoping that your increase in pace would not catch his attention. You mentally pleaded that he would avoid the archery range in favor of the other combat gyms.

He didn’t stop, as he never did, as his voice continued to come your way. You closed your eyes in weak attempt to hide your wince as he addressed you by name, by your real name, not your Harbinger title as the other nine would.

You stopped dead and turned to where he was trailing behind you and gave him your attention, unfortunately rewarding his bad behavior, “Titles only, Childe.”

“I wasn’t sure you could hear me” Childe responded, now standing tall right in front of you, his smile still the same, ignoring or otherwise completely unbothered by the standoffishness on your end. “I wanted to see if you wanted to spar while you’re here.”

Like clockwork. Every damn time you came in here and he was here too he’d ask. Each time you’d say no. Each time he’d hover around you until one of you had to leave. It had worked for the other Harbingers, as he now paid them no mind but for whatever reason, he still engaged with you. Tonight, you hoped your verifiable excuse and unfriendly aura would be the last straw for him.

“I’m just going to be doing target practice today,” you said, hoping to deter him. “I don’t want to do anything too strenuous today.”

“Oh you are? Do you mind if I join you?”

You blinked, “I didn’t know you knew how to use a bow,” you verbally dug your heels into the ground, even though you knew he could just walk into the range and practice along side you if he so wanted. There were no restrictions to who could use what when, but you desperately wished he would take a hint and leave you alone.

“I’ve been practicing on my own more recently, actually,” explained Childe, “And considering you’re the best archer among us, I can’t imagine having a better training partner.”

You narrowed your eyes at his compliment, while delivered earnestly, you couldn’t help but interpret his words as being subtly facetious. Since Childe sidestepped your frustrated hint with ease, you relented with a sigh, “Do as you please.”

The two of you headed to an archery range, Childe walking along side you, while you stewed in silent annoyance. So much for introspection time.

No one quite knew how to pester quite like Tartaglia. It was the popular opinion among the other Harbingers that the 11th was obnoxious. While you and your contemporaries preferred to work in the shadows and keep the often extreme extents of your servitude to your Archon hush-hush, Tartaglia, or Childe, as he preferred, ended up with a style that was far more akin to a performance. However, unlike most performers, he would make sure that his performance would be the last his audience would ever see.

You stopped in front of a door to the small range, opening it up unceremoniously, and Childe followed close behind. The room lit up, and illuminating the long room with three suspended targets, at three distances. Even with the unwanted company, you stretched and warmed up on autopilot, the silence between you and Childe surprisingly comfortable.

You glanced over, Childe having gone through his warm up routine faster than you. He had called his bow already, and you found yourself gawking at the absolutely abysmal posture he held as he aimed at the closest target, the one on the far left.

His shoulders were hunched and his bow hand gripped the bow in such a way that seemed entirely unsustainable. The arrow sat flimsy in his drawing hand, the only saving grace of the shot being the strength with Childe drew, which was borderline disturbing. You weren’t sure if he was showing off, or if he genuinely didn’t know to hold back.

You held your tongue as you watched him fire the shot, your eyes barely able to follow as the arrow swiftly embedded itself deep into the target, although the hit was only one by the smallest of margins

You watched him fire two more arrows, the second being a ring outside of the bullseye, and the third a near miss from the top. Both would be a challenge to pull from the targets as the fletching of the arrows were barely all that stuck out.

“See, I have a problem with being consistent in the hits I land,” Childe sighed, aware that you were observing, “What would you recommend?”

You took a deep inhale, “I think most children who pick up bows for the first time don’t have posture as bad as you.”

Childe flinched, his body language exaggerated, a pout resembling a kicked puppy having formed on his face, “Cut me some slack, I’m self taught!”

You remained unrelenting in your onslaught, “That’s obvious,” you scoffed, “You put way to much strength into the draw, especially when you can barely hold the bow itself. I’m amazed you hit the target at all.”

As as satisfying as it was to drag his form through the mud, Childe’s hurt expression only seemed to deepen, and you let yourself be worn down. “Draw the empty string, I’ll tell you what you need to fix.”

He did as you asked, and you rationalized to yourself that you were ultimately helping the Tsaritsa if you assisted Childe here. If he were ever stuck in a situation where he could only use a bow, you didn’t want him to be caught with his pants down. As invasive as he was, you didn’t want him to die or anything.

You lightly tapped his upper back, “Don’t hunch.” He fixed himself quickly. You moved his elbow up on his drawing arm, and went around to bend his elbow on his bow arm, going in quickly, and touching his as little as possible. You gave explanations for why each mistake would be detrimental for any kind of combat, and how to develop instinctive shooting, while making him maintain proper posture.

You were surprised how well he seemed to internalize what you explained, and you didn’t stop yourself from going into more detail than was feasibly retainable, but he stayed attentive, and showed a passion you weren’t expecting. You eased into a comfortable rhythm, and with rudimentary fixes, Childe was able to improve.

Time passed quickly, your engagement far more than either of you had expected. Childe had been trying to gauge you for a long time, but your persistence into giving him as little as possible became entertaining in and of itself. He enjoyed the open resentment of the other Harbingers, and before you had let your shell crack, he had enjoyed yours just as much.

Your patience with any mistakes was unexpected, your exasperation and irritation with his presence having dissipated entirely as you focused on helping him despite yourself. It was endearing seeing this side of you, a side that showed itself with surprisingly little prodding or string-pulling. It felt… natural, and unfortunately for you, it was also very endearing.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he started, interrupting a demonstration you had started about sights, earning a surprised look from you as he got your attention.

It took a split second, but you noticed he used your name instead of your title, your guard went back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him, “Don’t speak informally with me, use my title, Tartaglia.” You hissed out, using his official title instead of his preferred to emphasize your distance.

“Why? You can call me Ajax,” he offered, testing the barrier you set up. He hid his surprise when you hesitated, pursing your lips. He saw through how you tried to treat him apathetically, and forced yourself to be unkind to him. You were so much softer than you wanted anyone else to be privy to, and Childe was excited to exploit it.

In your own head, you had reached a conclusion that you weren’t sure he had reached, or if he even noticed in himself. You could have been way off, but as someone so at odds with his peers, seen as a tool by his superior, and feared by enemies and underlings alike, the pieces fit in your head and spelled out the fact that Childe was probably lonely.

Realizations clicked together quickly upon this conclusion, but you kept them to yourself.

“I won’t,” you maintained, refusing to let up. You couldn’t stop sympathy and understanding from now changing the tint of your interactions or how you viewed them, but you didn’t have to let him know any of that. Childe wasn’t your business, no matter how much he wanted to be.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Childe cooed, holding back a patronizing urge to pinch your angry cheeks, “I just wanted to ask why you’re helping me, since you seem to dislike me so much.”

You shifted your weight where you stood, “I don’t think you’d leave me alone either way.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from ignoring me before.”

Resentment bubbled in your chest, “So you are aware that you’re a pest.”

“Only because I like you.”

You were baffled that he could just say something that familiar, and you hoped any warmth that showed itself on you wouldn’t be interpreted as anything other than embarrassment on his behalf. “Well, stop.”

Childe seemed more amused than anything at your words, it only feeding into his idea that you’re just playing hard to get, “Am I really so unlikable?”

“You have no idea.” Any understanding you gained during your interactions being emotionally tossed to the wayside as your couldn’t bring yourself to care about someone with such a deliberate lack of regard for boundaries.

You disarmed yourself and made way to the door, pulling it open only for it to shut fast before you could blink. Your eyes followed the gloved hand that slammed it shut, Childe now far closer than you have ever let him get before.

You didn't want to turn around, and when you did you found yourself regretting it. His eyes were cold, completely unamused at your intent to leave while he was enjoying your company so much. He didn't mind a chase, but he needed you to realize that he was serious, and very difficult to deter.

If being pleasant and fun wouldn't get you to loosen up, he could change his approach until you changed your mind.

It had been a very long time since you felt this small. You’ve always been aware of Childe’s strength, but at the end of the day, despite his irritating nature, he was an ally. Or was. In that moment you looked up to see his lighthearted facade disappear so completely, you understood that regardless of your allegiance to your Archon, he was a threat.

“Don’t go, I still have so much I’d like to learn from you, [Y/N].”

[snowyh2o]

Alastor blinked, closing the door in vague befuddlement, before opening it again.

Unsurprisingly, the unexpected guest hadn’t magically disappeared or left or changed into something more pleasant to deal with in the five seconds the door had been shut. Pity.

He makes a show of looking around the streets up and down behind his sudden source of annoyance, as though looking for whoever had arrived at the hotel and knocked on its doors. Cheerfully pretending as though the guest he was searching wasn’t standing right in front of him, and moves to close the door once more.

This time a gloved hand catches the heavy wood before it fully closes, claws scratching the varnish, and Alastor lets the demon push back until the entrance was open once more.

Vox stood before him in all his overhyped technological glory. His suit was pressed, and the glass screen he has for a face was was polished to a shine. A showman’s smile was currently displayed, but the edges keep twitching, his irritation bleeding through. Alastor’s own grin grows wider at the sight.

They stand there in a stalemate, silently, carefully watching one another. As always, Alastor would not be the one who makes the first move, and his patience is rewarded when Vox finally drops his smile and snaps.

“Are you gonna let me in or what?”

Alastor lets his own lips close over bared teeth, tilts his head. His eyes wander to a spot just above the picture box demon’s head, and pretends to sink into contemplation.

“Hmmmm,” he drawls out, watching the way Vox’s left eye twitch at the sound from the corner of his own. Static builds just behind his teeth, popping sharply at his next words. “Nope!” He says brightly, “I don’t think I will.”

He moves to close the door again, and this time Vox abandons all pretense as he bodily shoves the offending piece of wood back open. Alastor releases his hold on the handle, stepping out of the way as the other demon goes stumbling past him. He sticks his cane out just so, and holds back a laugh as Vox trips, falls, and crashes headfirst into the hotel’s (relatively clean) entranceway.

He plays a laugh track anyways, and this time the commotion is loud enough to draw the princess away from whatever group activity she had planned for the day.

“Al? Who’s at the door? Is everything ok?” Footsteps heralded the impending arrival of his business partner, and Alastor feels his expression freeze, before he forces it to relax.

“Oh worry not my dear, everything is fine!” He calls back, poking the offending body in the entranceway with the butt of his microphone and briefly contemplating the pros and cons of simply throwing him out. Vox lets loose a string of curses and swipes at him, missing by a good feet or so. “Just taking care of an unwanted pest.”

“An unwanted— oh!” Charlie comes to a stop beside him, visibly pausing at the crumpled heap laying on top of their freshly swept rugs.

Vox on the other hand startles upright at the voice, and puts on a good show of pretending as though he hadn’t just made a complete fool of himself moments before her arrival. He dusts himself off, stands up straight, and pulls on a large show winning grin. It would almost be convincing, had he not been sporting a brand new crack in his screen, running down through his left eye.

“Vox,” He introduces himself, holding out a hand to shake. Charlie eyes it in startlement, but doesn’t shake it and Vox retracts it after a moment. “It’s truly a pleasure to be meeting you in person, the miss princess of hell herself!”

“Riiiiiight. I’m Charlie, it’s nice to meet you…?” Charlie’s eyes dart towards Alastor, eyebrow raised. Alastor ignores her silent question, keeping his smile fixed as he picks an imaginary piece of lint from his suit, and she grimaced and quickly looks away. “Soooo…. Was there something you wanted, from me? Or are you here to see….” she trails off at the sudden sound of rising static and the irritation clear on Vox’s face.

It’s not hard to imagine what she’d been about to say, and Alastor had never kept it secret regardless. The recent public broadcast left one little to ponder on the nature of their relationship. Though Alastor suspected Vox’s reasoning for coming here now had more to do with his recent failed attempt at subterfuge than a desire to be publicly humiliated once again.

“No, no, no. Actually, I’m here because of your hotel!” Vox announces, arms spread to gesture and encompass the rest of the building in his statement.

“My… hotel?” Charlie watches him, skeptical.

A sudden suspicion, a sense of dejavu, and Alastor narrows his eyes dangerously at Vox, fingers tapping gently against the back of his microphone. The sharp whine of feedback is lost against the hollow thunks.

Vox continues, oblivious or willfully ignorant, nodding enthusiastically.

“Yes of course! I’ve heard many great things about it from, er.” Vox’s eyes dart around rapidly, searching for an excuse before briefly pausing on Alastor himself. “From your advertisement, yes! It was so well made I thought I should check this place out.”

A blatant lie, one even Charlie must see through, considering their advertisement had been rather rudely interrupted by a broadcast from the very station the other demon owned. But it does confirm some of Alastor’s own suspicions on why the demon was here. Or at the very least how he seemed to plan on overstaying his welcome.

“Oh! Then, are you here to check in at the hotel?” Charlie offers a hopeful smile, and Alastor can see the way her blind optimism is at war with her blatant distrust of Vox and his general, everything. The same way it had when Alastor had offered her his services the first time they met.

The unintended parallels sour his mood.

But it’s obvious to anyone looking that despite the many neon printed signs pointing towards Vox, his ill-intentions, and the other numerous reasons as to why it’d be a horrible foolhardy idea to invite such a devil into her home; Charlie was committed to giving everyone who appeared to want to, a chance at redemption— and therefore, a place at her hotel.

How unfortunate. Well, this certainly complicated things.

The young princess of hell must sense his rising irritation, despite his unmoving grin, because she shoots him a sheepish, but wary, look. Alastor smothers his annoyance in response, and returns it with an unreadable smile.

“Yes! I am.” Vox replies, voice going hollow and grin turning smug as he stares Alastor down.

“How interesting.” Alastor comments in return, the hum of his own filter dipping with his words. “I’d never have expected an overlord such as yourself to desire something so trite as, redemption.” He leans over, his smile growing sharp. “Whatever will the papers say?”

“Alastor.” And whoops, he must’ve stepped a touch too far for the princess to use his name. Still, the look of restrained humiliation on Vox’s face is almost worth potentially souring his relationship with her.

“Now now Charlie, I’m sure you know what I mean.” He consoles. “Overlords aren’t the type to go around turning over new leaves for no reason. They wouldn’t have made it to where they are now if they did.” Alastor shakes his head, sighs, and gives Charlie his best approximation of concern. “What would you do should he have less than pure intentions for this place during his stay?”

Charlie, for her part, simply returns his look with a raised eyebrow and a deadpan expression at his statement.

Alastor smiles innocently back.

Forgotten about and left behind, Vox needlessly clears his throat before speaking. The speakers whine loudly at his insistence.

“Does that mean I can stay?”

“Yes.” Charlie nods, turning away from her silent stare down with Alastor to speak directly to Vox. “So long as you’re not up to any…” She makes a face and wiggles her fingers a little. “funny business. And! I know you and Al don’t get along, but try not to kill each other while you’re in the hotel, ok?” She turns back towards Alastor, giving her best impression of a stern glare. “Al?”

“Mmmmm.” He hums, lets the white noise of static fill the space between his thoughts. “Fine. Who am I to interfere with our beloved princess’s guests? I’m sure everything will work out just fine.” He flips a hand, gestures briefly toward Vox, before turning on a heel and walking away.

Charlie rolls her eyes at him, but doesn’t stop him from returning to the main lobby where the rest of these wayward souls were waiting.

“HA! Fuck you Alastor!” Vox crows loudly, stops, scratches the back of his screen. “Oh uh. Haha. Thank you for the hospitality, your highness.”

Alastor bites back a snarl, turns, and flashes his most sincere smile. “Oh yes, I’m sure your time here will be very entertaining.”

Vox pauses at that, expression twisting into confusion and sudden fear induced suspicion, even as Charlie beams up at them both and drags Vox away to show off the hotel’s facilities.

Good, that should keep him on his toes.

here me out… how funny would it be if he was just like “if pentious failed.. i’ll do it my self.” and just like became a guest at the hotel pretending that he wanted to be redeemed and alastor was just like >:/ i mean there’s no way charlie wouldn’t let him in.

[shoichee]

how would atsushi, akashi and aomine react to haizaki threatening/hitting on their s/o?? (cue that one scene where he was literally taking on himuro, kagami, kise, and alex all at once 😡... basically that, but with their s/o)

ANON…. THOSE 3???? LONG STORY SHORT…. HAIZAKI EXPERIENCES DEATH (OR AT LEAST NEAR-DEATH) 3 SEPARATE TIMES…… BUT HERE’S THE “LONG STORY” THROUGH THESE HCs 

TW: attempt of physical assault, unwanted advancements… asshole Haizaki? cut under this to keep y’all safe JUST IN CASE

[Headcanons]

Aomine Daiki

you went out to look for Aomine after noticing how he hasn’t come back to his seat for too long

this was shortly after Kaijō defeated Fukuda Sōgō, and it was currently intermission before the next match rolled in

your face was met with crisp air as your eyes adjusted to the dark, scanning for any sign of your boyfriend

upon seeing no one, you decided to walk around the perimeter, just in case Aomine decided to nap for a quick moment on a whim and forgot to tell you

maybe you shouldn’t have walked out alone and in the dark of night, but you figured that in such a public event in a public area, you didn’t think anyone had the balls to start anything fishy around the stadium

oh how you were so wrong

you unfortunately bumped into Haizaki right when he was slowly strolling with his basketball shoes over his shoulder, and you immediately stopped in place, praying that he would walk past by you or perhaps not even see you

you knew that he wasn’t good news based from what Aomine told you and from watching that unpleasant game… he was bad, bad news

why did you think he wasn’t gonna see you? his senses are as sharp as a falcon, scrutinizing you before he realizes your identity

“Oh? Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here… all alone?”

“I, um, I was looking for someone, but I realized it’s been getting a little too late… I think they returned back to the stadium, so that’s where I’m heading…”

your voice slowly diminishes to a soft whisper by the end, but judging from his widened eyes from glee, you knew he wasn’t going to walk past by you after this

“That so?” he drawls, licking his thumb. “The stadium ya say?”

something about his gaze turned sharp and dangerous, “the stadium” triggering unadulterated rage and frustration from the game and from his encounter with Aomine

“I… I really gotta leave,” you say in a hurry, quickly backing up. “Th-They’re impatient, so—”

“Huh?” he mocks, leaning closer to you. “I’m kinda of an impatient guy myself, yeah?” but upon even closer inspection, he realizes that he’s seen you somewhere very recently

“Hm?” he muses lowly. “Weren’t ya sitting with Daiki that game?” when you don't answer out of fear, his eyes merely shine with excitement… “Ohhhh… is that how it is?”

. . .

Aomine returns back to his seat after settling a score with Haizaki outside the stadium, but immediately becomes confused when he sees your seat empty

Sakurai immediately apologizes and quickly informs him that you went out to look for him, and Aomine immediately dashes back out… after all, who knows if you got lost in the dark or if you kept being persistent in looking for him?

imagine his visible distress when he sees Haizaki putting an arm around your shoulder while still holding his shoes and you looking absolutely fearful because you knew what he was capable of

this was a very rare moment where Aomine was not so calm and collected

but he tries to, especially when he knows that Haizaki probably relishes in the fact of “getting revenge” for that punch earlier (and probably realized the connection between you and Aomine to do so)

“Hey, asshat,” he calls out, grabbing Haizaki’s attention away from you, but Aomine notices him pulling you slightly closer to his body. “The fuck you think you’re doing with (y/n)?”

“Hehh? So (y/n)’s your name?” Haizaki merely pays attention to you, completely ignoring Aomine

“Back off,” he says lowly, almost to a growl. “I won’t be holding myself back to just a punch this time if you do anything else.”

at his hardened glare, Haizaki does a gleeful mock-surprise expression before putting his arm off of you and says: “Whoaaa there, Daiki. Never pegged you as that typa guy.”

he licks his thumb before walking away casually without a care in the world before calling out, “It ain’t fun here anymore, I’m bouncin’ out.”

by the time he leaves Aomine’s field of vision, he finally releases a pent-up sigh before calling out your name:

“... Come’ere… he didn’t do anythin’ to you right? Sheesh, I leave you alone for one second—alright, alright I guess it was more than a second… fine, it was several minutes… look, I’m sorry… okay, okay quit lecturing me… more importantly, promise me you don’t go out alone like that. It’s dangerous out there, y’know.”

when you finally ask about what he meant by his threat to Haizaki, he smugly replies, “Aw, that? I gave him a hard sock earlier. Went down pretty easily.”

Murasakibara Atsushi

it’s quite rare that Murasakibara would agree to going to Tokyo temporarily over break, let alone leave his house, but here you two are, resting on the park benches in Tokyo

shortly after, you went to the nearest arcade hall, begging and tugging him along with you to try the strength test for the jackpot prize (totally using his physique to nab home prizes and merch LOL)

he only agreed because you looked way too excited for him to turn the plan down

he still enjoyed himself, if he was being honest; it’s just you, him, his snacks, and some games you both are playing together

Murasakibara notices that the arcade also has a mini food court to the side, and he immediately pouts at you to let him go tasting galore on a food binge

and you laugh, telling him to “hurry up” to tease him and letting him know that you were staying here to try to earn more points to exchange for rewards at the end

you entered a coin into the slot and hummed before seeing a START screen, but as soon as it went black into a loading screen you saw someone’s reflection on it

Haizaki was right behind you

“Whaddya know? Would ya look at that?” he says, hands in his pockets while sneering. “If it isn’t (y/n).”

you merely pretended that you didn’t hear him, considering that the arcade was pretty crowded and noisy, and went on to playing the game in front of you

you hoped that by the time you were done with the round, he’d be gone, but his reflection was very much still there on the arcade machine screen, depicting his laid-back posture against the back of another arcade machine, watching you with complete amusement

after spending all the available coins on hand and still sensing him behind you, you promptly turned to your left to head for the coin machine and acted completely casual, but before you got too far ahead, Haizaki easily blocks your path with an outstretched arm, the hand against the arcade machine

“Whoaaa,” he drawls. “That’s pretty fucked up for you to ignore me like that.”

“... You’re blocking the way, so can you please kindly let me pass?” you flatly say, not bothering to look at his face

“What’s with the cold shoulder?” He tilts his head with a crazed look in his eyes that spelled unpredictability. “I just came and stopped by to say hello to an old friend from Teiko. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“Look,” you sigh. “You’re in the way, and I wish to spend my time here left alone. No, I’m not interested in small talk. No, I’m not in the mood for a bite with you. No, I don’t want to give you my number. Did I address everything?” you finally turned your face to look at Haizaki, but his face contorts to one of a dangerous beast

“Good, good…” he slowly says. “You haven’t changed one bit, haven’t ya? I was wonderin’ where that feisty side of yours went.”

perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken up after all; it only riled him up more

before you can formulate any further thoughts, he grabs your chin and directed it towards him, and you immediately froze up

you tried to dart your eyes around you if anyone noticed, but no one seems to pay attention

“What’s the matter?” he asks. “Cat got ya tongue?” when he looks to where your gaze was at, he chuckles before drawing closer to your face. “No one’s gonna help… not when they think we’re a little thing…”

but he instantly feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Haizaki turns around, ready to cuss the perpetrator out, but his eyes widen when he sees a furious Murasakibara

a giant with a very, very hostile aura… even nearby crowds dispersed out of fear for their safety

“Hands off of (y/n)-chin, pest.”

“Oho?” Haizaki releases your face and completely turns around to face him. “Well if it isn’t Atsushi… been a while hasn’t it?” he brings up a hand in a shrugging motion. “While I’d love to chat, I’m busy. Scram.”

“Touch (y/n)-chin again, and I’ll break all of your fingers.”

“Huh?” Haizaki licks his right thumb. “What’s up with ya? It’s non’ya business.”

you took this as an opportunity to run to Murasakibara’s side and seek shelter behind his back, which Haizaki raises a defiant brow

“Hmmm?” he smiles a slow smirk. “Was I really such bad company, (y/n)?”

his smile was completely wiped when he sees Murasakibara’s outstretched hand towards his head, and he deftly dodges his grasp before he walks off with a scoff

“I’m gonna crush him—”

“W-Wait! Just leave him be…” you held onto his torso in a full-attempt to stop him from going too far, and after a few moments, he relaxes with body and finally turns to face you

he doesn’t say anything but darts his eyes all over your figure to make sure there weren’t any injuries on you

he gently holds your hand before he tugs you to follow him to the food court

“Murasakibara…?”

“... You won’t be separated from me if we hold hands, (y/n)-chin.”

“I’m fine, you know.”

he doesn’t say anything more, and when you both settled into your table with your orders, he’s constantly staring at you and giving nonverbal cues that he wants to do PDA with you

becomes very protective and affectionate of you for the rest of the trip

grows very quiet and deep in thought until you reassure him that you were okay because of him stepping in to save you

Akashi Seijuro

it’d be extremely rare for you to ever bump into Haizaki, especially when the only chance you can see him is during the annual Winter Cup

Winter Cup arrives once again with the GoMs being 2nd years this time, and Akashi is still the same Oreshi ever since last Winter Cup

Haizaki definitely had seen you walking with Akashi very closely before the opening ceremony started, and it gave him ideas on how to “get back” against Akashi without directly confronting him

he was gonna mess with you

even after all those years, he still has that grudge against Akashi; the fact that he is one of the few people who has that power over him irritates him to no end

even when Akashi told Haizaki to quit long ago to help him save face, his pride was still heavily bruised

when he was sure Akashi wasn’t with you, he approached you while you were waiting outside the stadium

. . .

Akashi exits out of the locker rooms and carries his duffel bag before he heads to the entrance to greet you, excited in reuniting with you to talk about today’s games and your opinion on Rakuzan’s performance… that is, until what he saw made him beyond furious

“O-Ow…!”

“If ya want someone to blame for,” Haizaki sneers. “Ya can thank Akashi for messin’ with me, yeah? Don’t take it too hard babe, but I’m just returnin’ the favor… by proxy.”

Akashi strides over to the two of you with the intensity of death that would even surprise Bokushi himself

“Haizaki.”

at the sound of his eerily calm voice, Haizaki turns over to Akashi, and his glee is immediately wiped off his face and replaced with one of anger… and hidden fear

he suddenly drops you from his chokehold, and as you hit the ground, coughing to intake air, he turns to Akashi with a vengeful look

after a suffocating staredown between the two, Haizaki tuts and turns to leave in unspoken defeat, knowing full well the consequences from defying against Akashi; it’s something he never did in Teiko and certainly not something he would risk doing now

Akashi immediately drops his cold facade and rushes over to your side, rubbing your back and examining the slight bruises on your neck

his HIGHEST priority at that very moment was your safety, and he decided to take you to a doctor and then to your home, opting to cancelling/rescheduling any plans for today despite your objections

all the while, he coos softly at you and touches you with such care and gentleness that you managed to calm your heartbeat from that sudden attempt of assault

as soon as he feels like you’re safe, mentally and physically (and probably in a safe environment with either a GoM or at your own home), he reveals his true emotions on his face regarding the incident for the first time when he’s alone

being super considerate about your current mental state, he didn’t want to potentially scare you even more with his anger and much more negative emotions

for the first time, he allows his darker thoughts to simmer and stir… it’s one of those rare times where he wishes that Bokushi still existed within him

he eventually finds time to pay a visit to Fukuda Sōgō… to make nice… threats conversation

if you somehow figured out that he was going to do that, only when you convinced him is when he’ll decide to back down

but that’s only IF you figured out about how Akashi really felt about this…