#maybe even write something?

[steviesbicrisis]

I’ve been brainrotting since the Red, White and Royal Blue trailer came out so, I NEED TO KNOW

[feralforbeanix]

Manfred Von Karma did not burn Phoenix's letters to Miles.

Like, I'm not even saying this to defend Manfred's character (though the fanbase does get a little crazy with what he actually did and didn't do) I'm saying this because that's not canon. I'm not sure it was even possible in canon.

Phoenix didn't write letters to Germany. He didn't know Miles was in Germany, let alone Von Karma's address. He didn't even know who Von Karma was until Edgeworth told him about Manfred in Turnabout Goodbyes.

In the game canon, Miles just stopped showing up to school one day. All Phoenix seemed to know was that he transferred schools suddenly. He didn't know why or where to. Remember, Phoenix didn't even hear about DL-6 until Turnabout Sisters when Maya mentioned her family's involvement.

Even in the anime canon (I haven't watched the anime in a while so I might be off about this) where Phoenix and Miles get a chance to properly say goodbye, Phoenix still doesn't have a direct means of contacting him. His best way of doing so was dedicating a song through the radio using Signal Samurai codenames and hoping Miles would hear it.

Phoenix mentions trying to contact him several times when explaining their relationship to Maya, but this was after finding out Miles was this "Demon Attorney". Miles would have to be at least 20 at this point in time, living back in California with at least a few trials under his belt. With how young he reached success, it's not impossible Miles was living on his own at the time. Even if he wasn't, I doubt Manfred was going through this grown adult's mail.

No, what the game seems to be implying is that Miles ignored Phoenix. (Maya even says, "I guess he didn't want to hear from his old friends.") And I don't think this was out of hatred or anything, I think Miles just wanted to forget his past entirely because even the good memories of his childhood would be bittersweet at best.

And to be honest that makes it even more tragic to me. Why do we need Manfred to intercept their connection when Miles' trauma and guilt complex is already doing that?

I like to think Miles knew Phoenix would be asking questions if he ever responded to those initial attempts at contact. Questions he of course doesn't want to answer because they'd at best open old wounds or at worst risk his childhood friend finding out he might have committed patricide.

I also like to think he knew Phoenix of all people would stubbornly try to find the answers Miles wouldn't willingly give because he literally mentions Phoenix always being "single minded in his work" and "always seeing things through to the end". If anyone was going to press and bring those uncomfortable and painful memories out in the open for the sake of "helping him", it would be Phoenix Wright.

Why do we need Manfred to take away all that complexity and tragedy? That is such a waste!

[lucabyte]

A belief in Nominative Determinsim

[putterphubase]

'Don't forget to buy eggs on your way back. We're out.' I have to go. There's an emergency at home.

THE TIME OF FEVER (2024).

[arttsuka]

Can u draw Jedidiah and Octavius having a movie night using Larry's phone please 🙏??

I love your art sm!

Aww, thank you ♡

What movie are they watching? (Pretend there is something on that phone screen pls)

[spaceistheplaceart]

found an old ekurei comic rotting in my files, decided to finish it. upon my rewatch of mp100 i kept noticing how many times dimple was referred to as a pet- but he's not ! ! ! he's a friend :)

[sunnibits]

potentially hot take but this is a pet peeve of mine

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[simphornies]

Hi i was wondering if you could do a Vox X Angel Reader. If you don't mind of course. I understand if you say no.

A/N: Again. But this might be a two parter again. Or three. I don't know this one was super fun to write though!

Word count: 4.3k (4,232) Contains: SLOW burn, Alastor is your friend, Charlie being Charlie

part 2, part 3, part 4

Summary: Vox approached you with a deal too good to be true. He hid his ill-intent only to find him playing too far into the lie to the point where he began to doubt his true feelings. What was he really doing this for?

Deal breaker [Vox x Angel! Reader] Part 1

Your curious and overly empathetic nature mixed with your passion for justice always had the seraphims and other archangels keep their eyes on you. They tried to prevent you from rebelling by limiting your access to information.

You grew to be a well-known and respected angel in heaven so when word came out that you decided to stand by Charlie's hotel idea during the trial, more than half of heaven stood by it too. You were the furious version of Emily during then. You were enraged and demanded the information to be leaked to which Sera rejected immediately.

You threatened to spread the truth yourself and with that you were ordered to leave Heaven and join Charlie, never to set foot back in Heaven with such threats. You accepted being a fallen on the condition that they give the hotel a chance if you were to win against the extermination. Emily was more than happy to agree to be the joyful messenger to report good news and fix the stereotypes that they held on the souls of hell.

Sera went against this idea but Emily threatened to join you in Hell otherwise. You watched as Sera, a high seraphim, was backed into a corner by a fellow seraphim. The other angels argued amongst each other but were instantly persuaded by your opinion due to your reputation. You swore that you will win against the true fools of the battle, Adam and Lute.

You gave aid on Charlie's side against the early extermination by working to heal those who were gravely injured and protecting the weak. Ultimately winning in the end, a surge of arguments within the heavenly community led to an uprising in defense of the hotel. This very reason ended up with you falling like Lucifer. You weren't a seraphim but you sure as hell had the social status of one. With Heaven unable to condemn every angel that joined the uprising against the extermination so they settled with you. The fight, however wasn't won without casualties.

During the broadcasted fight, your power caught the attention of the overlord Vox. He was in shock that someone in heaven actually gave a shit about the people in hell. Soon after the war you received word that he wanted to have a meeting with you to discuss collaboration with VoxTek and Hazbin Hotel. Against Alastor's obviously biased protests, you agreed to meet with the infamous overlord alone.

"Vox, a pleasure to be meeting with you. I'm sure you've heard but my name is Y/N. Fallen angel, representative and advisor of Hazbin Hotel." You formally greet him, holding out your hand to which he shook.

"Y/N, I've known you since the last extermination, quite a sight. Please, sit." He pulls out a chair for you. How gentlemanly. "I've arranged this meeting to discuss possible collaborations with VoxTek despite our standing with your host, Alastor." His voice distorted when he said his name. It was a mystery to you as to why they despise each other so much, but it wasn't your place nor the time to know of the reason.

"Ah, yes. He protested against my decision to meet with you today, however and I am quite curious as to what you have to offer considering Hazbin Hotel needs not for what your company usually provides." You sit up, placing your interlocked hands on the table. "You are well aware that cameras and technology of that sort don't quite mix with our dear Alastor. So please, what do you have that we need?"

"Influence. I believe I can spread the word and convince sinners to attempt redemption better than Alastor's radio broadcasts." Vox noticed your eyes glisten with interest. "I know the hotel's against forcing so I won't use my hypnotism on the advertisement."

"Alright," You nod, "That's a decent offer. What do you request in return if I were to agree to this?"

A grin spreads across his face, "I want you to protect me and my company against future threats. That and I want you in particular."

You cock an eyebrow at his half ridiculous request, "Me?" You almost scoffed out loud, "What do you want me for?"

"Why, I would love to get to know you. You're more of a mystery than that radio demon and well, as an overlord, I have to know exactly who you are."

"And how do you propose this idea to work? Surely I am not worthy of such...curiosity. I have proven myself to not be a threat to the people of hell."

"Well, let me put this in simpler terms." He leans back in his chair, "I am interested in courting you."

You blinked in disbelief. An overlord? Courting a fallen angel? "Now wouldn't that be a conflict of interest? And if your courting fails, how are we to know that the Vees won't become a bigger threat to the hotel?"

"You're a fallen angel, you hold more power than the overlords and stand side by side with the king of hell. Not to mention that you're best friends with Princess Morningstar." He watched the subtle changes in your facial reaction, slightly amused but also slightly worried that you'd actually say no. "You are by far much stronger than Adam, who by the way shot laser beams from his fingers. We pose no threat to you."

"Ah but you are aware that I can be hurt with angelic weapons. You work with Carmilla Carmine, an angelic weapons dealer. So I ask again, how do I guarantee my safety alongside the hotel?"

"How about we make a deal then?" He proposed.

A deal? An angel, fallen or not, making a deal with a demon is not something you typically see, well, ever. You pondered and thought about the offer, humming softly.

"3 days." You finally spoke, "I'll need 3 days to consider this offer on the condition that you stay in the hotel. If you're truly willing to collaborate with us, you need to stay, see and understand the hotel in its full glory. In return for your approval of this condition, I will give provide you protection from Alastor and, may I be as bold to say it, force his cooperation."

Vox was a little skeptical but considering you are stronger than Alastor, he agreed. "Alright then, 3 days. When will this start?"

"I will let you know as soon as I speak with the staff of the hotel." You get up from your seat. "Is that alright with you?"

Vox gets up and shakes your hand, "Great. I'll be waiting."

You gave him a smile before teleporting yourself back to the hotel. As soon as you left Vox basically starts breathing hard as if he was holding his breath the entire meeting. The presence of an angel freshly fallen from Heaven is a heavy one. He composed himself before calling Velvette and Valentino to the room.

Back at the hotel you call for a staff meeting with Vaggie, Alastor, Charlie, Lucifer and Husk. You tell them about the events of the meeting. They, with the exclusion of Charlie, were all understandably skeptical and untrusting of Vox's word. Especially Alastor considering he hated this demon's guts.

The room distorts slightly due to his anger. "As the host of the hotel, I disagree with this deal. I say no. I do not collaborate with technology in the slightest and I will absolutely not collaborate with Vox." He hissed out. "That is a terribly foolish idea. I cannot comprehend why you would consider such a proposal."

"Yeah that guy literally tried to spy on us with Pentious as soon as he learned that Alastor was here." Vaggie crossed her arms, "As rare as this is, I agree with Alastor. I trust him more than I trust Vox."

"You guys, I think the proposal is a great idea!" Charlie defended, "He can get us more reach and other people aren't as..." She glanced at Alastor who tilted his head to the side in response, "...afraid of him. And! This hotel's all about redemption and giving chances, we can't turn our backs on something as big as this."

"My dear, surely you aren't considering this preposterous idea?" Alastor questioned argumentatively.

"Yes. I am. I stand with Y/N on this one. I think we should give him a chance."

"And what if he tries to fuck shit up here at the hotel? Then what?" Husk asks, "I'm not cleaning up after any more walls that get blown up." He grumbled, taking a swig out of his bottle.

"I hear your troubles and concerns regarding the idea but did you all truly forget," You glanced at Lucifer. He understood your cue and in unison you both reveal your six wings and the eyes that covered you both, "This hotel is under protection of not only the infamous radio demon but two high-ranking fallen angels."

"I agree with Y/N. If that little overlord tries to pull any stunts, I won't hesitate to fuck him." Lucifer proudly, and loudly, states.

Everyone, in response, stared at him.

"It's 'fuck him up' dad." Charlie whispers, "I told you this last time."

"Wait what did I say?"

You laugh at the mistake in phrase, "See? There is nothing to worry about."

"Okay but why does he want to do this? What exactly does he want in return, Y/N? I feel like you left that out." Vaggie asks as you and Lucifer put your wings away, reverting back to your usual forms.

"Well, he said he wanted protection and..." You trail off. All eyes are on you as they waited for what comes next. You take a deep breath in, "And he wants a chance at courting me." You calmly state, a nervous blush covering your poker face.

Husk spits out his drink and everyone, in unison, screams. "WHAT?"

All at once, protests, thoughts and opinions were thrown at you.

"All this nonsense for a chance at courtship? Foolish!" Alastor scoffed.

"The big bad overlord wants to fucking hit on you and you considered it?" Husk screams before reaching for another bottle to chug. "I'm too fucking sober right now."

"Ooooooh~ Y/N caught the attention of an overlord. You know what he wants-" Lucifer elbowed you before humping the air with a teasing look on his face, "Bow-chicka-wow-wow."

"HE WANTS TO DATE YOU?" Vaggie yelled.

"OH MY GOSH. HE WANTS TO DATE YOU? THAT'S SO CUTE." Charlie squealed in excitement, of course.

You sigh and rubbed your temples at the onslaught of statements. You patiently waited for them to all stop talking at the same time before continuing. You took this time to think this one through. You hardly knew the guy and he was willing to agree to spend 3 days in the hotel even with Alastor here. If that wasn't a commitment, then you don't know what is.

The arguing dies down and you get up, "I didn't state that I will enter a relationship with Vox. I simply said I'll consider his conditions of collaboration. Protection against future threats is something I can handle. The second part came out of the blue." You sigh, "Alastor. I am more than well aware of your indifferences and feelings on him but if you truly want this hotel to get more reach, you need to be able to put your feelings to the side and be more open-minded. Besides, if he were to fail here and in courting me, wouldn't you want to be there to see it?"

Alastor hummed, "Mmmm...You make a good point there. Fine. I'll agree to it. I won't harm him for a chance at seeing him fail." He grinned menacingly, his words covered with his radio static effect. "Though if he doesn't fail, what shall I get?"

You deadpanned and sighed, once again, "I'll bring you foolish prey that talk shit about you so you can let your anger out on them instead of him." You offered to which he decided to reluctantly settle for.

After you all came to the agreement, you send a paper notice to Vox telling him that tomorrow will be the start of his 3 long days at the hotel. Vox received the note you sent him while he was with Velvette and Valentino making him grin.

Velvette rolled her eyes, "All that to hit on the angel bitch? That's a weird-"

"-And pathetic-" Valentino added.

"-fucking move for power, Vox. Did you hit your fuckin' head or something? Do you need an update?"

"Pathetic? We get angelic protection equal to the protection of Lucifer. That would give us such an easy path to conquer this whole fucking ring!" He exclaims, laughing menacingly, "If an angel fell for that dumbass reason, there's no fucking way she's smart enough to see through the fact that she's the one that's going to be getting played."

.

The next day rolled around and the hotel lobby was decorated with basically every decoration everyone could find. There was even a sign that says "It's a boy!" on the wall? The same one they used for Lucifer's arrival. You shook your head, laughing a bit.

"Alright, Alastor. Remember, be nice." You remind him as he rolled his eyes.

"Yes yes, your highness." He rolled his eyes, sassing you. Though this idea was a crazy one, you and Alastor were friends. You had helped him gain a bit more of his power that was constricted from his mysterious chains. When you saw him bleeding in his old radio tower, you shared your powers through the means of a deal. A deal that he would trust your decisions and become your friend.

"Don't you sass me, Alastor." You joked, "Very unbecoming of you."

After a couple minutes of waiting, a knock sounds at the door. You open it to reveal Vox standing with pride. Confetti blasts behind you as you welcome him into the hotel.

"Welcome, Vox. To the famous Hazbin Hotel. I truly hope you enjoy your stay with us and we thank you for taking this opportunity."

"I don't thank him for shit." Alastor mumbled.

You side-eyed the radio demon before holding out your hand for Vox to take so you can show him around. He takes it and gives the back of your hand a kiss, earning an eye-roll and a couple of gasps.

"First things first, I shall introduce you to the staff." You walk him over to your friends.

"Hi! I'm Charlie. You probably already know me but welcome to the hotel!" She squealed, shaking his free hand, "You're going to love it here! You get to play our trust games today! Oh! And this is my dad, the king of hell, Lucifer!" Charlie grabbed her father to which he waved and just said, "Pleasure."

Everyone made their rounds introducing themselves to Vox and it was time for you to properly introduce the two rivals to each other. Vox came face to face with Alastor. Alastor squinted, his aura darkening and in response Vox starts to angrily glitch.

"Now now. A reminder that you two are to get along for the next 3 days. Or, at the least, not kill each other." You calmly state, "Or, I will do it myself." You threatened, your angelic eyes sprouting on your hair as you smiled at them sweetly, your hands gripping their shoulders a little tight. They pettily turn their heads away from each other.

"Now that introductions are done, I shall escort you to your room. Right this way."

You lead him into a room that you requested be ready for him. All rooms around it are covered with jammers strong enough to prevent him from doing anything sketchy or interfering with technology from his room, as per Alastor's request, but weak enough to allow him to properly function. You briefed him on this expecting him to protest but he just agreed without a fight.

His room was designed entirely on what you saw in his office, color scheme and all. Neon lights that he can control and change lined the walls and the corners. You decide to temporarily move into the space next to his so if anything were to go wrong, you'd be the first one there.

After settling in, Vox was subjected to Charlie's games and events that she had planned for the day. She purposefully pushed the two of you into pairs when given the chance, anything to get you two to become close. Alastor surprisingly behaved himself, too focused on his more important rivalry with Lucifer to truly care about Vox's presence. Vox, of course, took great offense to this and tried to pick fights with him which led him to getting punished.

By Charlie.

In her own Charlie way.

Apologies.

Anyways you end your day at the bar, speaking with Husk about his day. You listen to him grumble away at his irritations, giving advice when needed or asked but mostly staring at your cup of wine. Growing up in Heaven, you were only allowed to drink wine with levels of alcoholic concentration so low it's practically still juice. This made you a lightweight in the beginning but with enough time spent around Angel Dust and Cherri, your tolerance went up.

You were working on finishing an entire bottle of wine when Husk stopped his stories, grumpily walking away to pretend to do something. Vox had sat next to you.

"Hello, are you here for a drink?" You asked, offering some of your drink to him.

"Sorry, I'm more of a whiskey and rum type of demon." He declined, lifting his glass full of what looked to be rum. "Today I chose rum."

"How's your first day? Tiring, is it not?" You ask before pouring yourself another glass, "I'll be heading to bed as soon as I finish my bottle."

He laughed a bit, "You're finishing that whole thing by yourself? Never expected the angel to be an alcoholic. You getting used to Hell or something?"

You roll your eyes, "I like to indulge every now and then, Heaven is such an uptight place for angels like me. Indulging in alcohol was never a chance. The 'wine' there is quite literally juice. Ask Husk, he was disgusted." You pointed at the winged cat demon who nodded in response.

"Nastiest shit I ever tasted."

While you, Husk and Vox conversed you failed to notice Charlie sneaking up on you the moment you finished the last drops in your glass. She jumped as soon as you finished the bottle and smiled.

"Y/N! Vox! Since you two are more acquainted and you live next to each other, why don't you two walk together for the night?" She winked at you, egging on the idea of you and Vox dating.

"That's not necessa—" You begin before getting interrupted by an overly excited Vox.

"Gladly!" He grinned as he put his glass down. He extended his arm out to you for you to hold onto. You walk past him, declining his offer without a word. Your rejection at his attempt of affection sparked a flame within him. It definitely hit his ego.

"Catch up now, or I'll end up walking alone." You say, almost in a teasing manner.

Charlie gently pushed Vox after you to which he ran to catch up. While you two walked down the lobby and up the stairs, it was awkwardly silent. Vox's damaged ego made him break the silence first.

"So...What does an angel do...at night?" Vox internally slapped himself at the horrid attempt at conversation. You raised an eyebrow at him, befuddled at the odd question.

"We...sleep? Go into slumber?" You giggle slightly, "That was an amazing attempt at conversation."

Your giggle echoed in his head, replaying for a while until you spoke again. Vox was confused at his own reaction and decided to ignore it. He held his hands behind his back as he walked next to you down the hallway towards your rooms.

"Well I don't typically talk to angels. You're one of the three only angels here. Unless you count the dead one." His humor wasn't something he expected you to laugh at but you did. He was surprised. "Anyways. I'm allowed to try and court you while I'm here right?"

"Hmm. I suppose." You nodded, "Though, I have my doubts in your abilities to successfully do so. But you have my best wishes for your endeavors."

Your best wishes? That phrase almost made him scoff in response, holding back only for the sake of his facade. Though he did feel challenged.

"Is that a challenge, Y/N?" He asked, a mischievous grin on his face as he looked at you.

You finally reach your door which was right before Vox's, "Take it as you will. I will not condemn you from attempting." You smile at him, "Have a good night, Vox. Don't fall asleep too late."

"Whatever you say." He definitely took it as a challenge. "Good night, angel." He said as he opened your door for you. You thanked him before entering your room, shutting, but not locking, your door behind you. It didn't take long for you to get ready and fall asleep after.

Meanwhile in Vox's room, he took a look around. Double checking every nook and cranny for a sign of distrust like listening devices and cameras but to his surprise there were none. He was about to let his guard down until Alastor slid under his locked door using his shadow.

"Hello, old pal." The sound of his radio voice made the fellow overlord jump. He turned and made eye contact with the radio demon himself, menacingly smiling at him.

"What do you want, fuck face?" He hissed, his own voice covered with his stereo effect almost as if trying to one-up Alastor.

"I don't know what your intentions are here but I am almost completely sure you are up to no good. So we shall heed you a warning."

"Why did you say 'we' instead off 'I' or 'me' or something."

Alastor's grin widens as he unlocked the door for Lucifer to get through. Vox looked down at the surprisingly short king of hell.

"My daughter's formed a close bond with Y/N and if anything happens to her, you'll have to deal with me. And I don't think you'd want that." Lucifer threatened, eyes briefly turning red, "That's all I have to say!"He smiled as if nothing just happened and left to go to his room.

"And our dear, Y/N is a part of this hotel now." Alastor examined his staff before staring down the TV demon, "Under no circumstance for these next days am I to harm you but I will tell you this. Watch your intentions."

Alastor disappeared as quickly as he came, leaving Vox alone. He rolled his eyes at the warnings Alastor gave him, only really caring about Lucifer's. Right as he was about to settle into bed, a knock came at his door. He groaned in frustration.

"What now?" He complained, opening the door a bit too furiously, "What do you want—Oh. Hello, Y/N..." You stood in front of him in your pajamas. Which was a nightgown you got from Angel Dust as a present, it teased the dirty mind of whoever saw it but you honestly thought it was just a regular nightgown. Your cleavage threatened to spill out from the top at any wrong move and the shape of the dress partnered with the extremely light fabric meant that a breeze could easily blow it up.

It was a sight he wasn't expecting to see and if he was being honest, it flustered him to see you, a renowned angel, in such revealing clothes in front of his room at night. He awkwardly cleared his throat to snap himself out of his brief trance before hiding his nervousness behind a wide smile.

"Yes, Y/N? I was just about to go to bed. Do you need anything?" He leaned against the door frame, arms loosely crossed, "Or did you come here to tease me~"

You shook your head before handing him a box. "I forgot to give you this, I had left it on my nightstand and saw it before I laid to rest." You smile, "It's a welcome gift. I shall be heading off now. Good night!"

"Wai—" He spoke but you were already heading towards your room. He watched you walk away, eyes scanning the shape of your body as the nightgown landed on your curves. And he stared at your ass.

He goes back into his room to open what you'd given him. It was a bow tie that had the iconic Hazbin Hotel eye on it. Under it was a note.

'I made this myself. Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I hope you enjoy your stay! -Y/N'

He felt himself warm up at the gesture which felt weird to him. He was there to try to win you over with manipulation, trick you into forming a deal with him and taking you for himself away from the hotel. And now he's blushing?

"What the fuck..." He whispered to himself, having mixed emotions on his original plan. He shook it off and headed to bed. He only had 2 more days after all.

[rillils]

🌸 post-catws stucky + hug

The first tendril of want shocks him like a splash of ice-cold water poured down his spine.

Bucky doesn’t know at first – doesn’t know what, doesn’t know how. But the want is there, curled up in his chest: small, and starving, like some trembling newborn thing whose first taste of life is hunger, crying to be fed and soothed.

There’s a half-remembered feeling in the back of his mind, something he reaches for when the want aches sharp and spark-bright inside him. The word for it is short and sweet in Bucky’s mouth, so gentle it barely touches his tongue at all, all throat and soft palate: ‘hug’.

It’s a simple concept. Two arms go around one body – that’s all it takes. One step, and there it is: a hug. And Bucky imagines it vividly: his own mismatched arms around Steve, and Steve’s arms folding around him, like a circle – the shape of the infinite, of timeless things like the two of them. A line that should end, but constantly finds one more beginning instead.

He tries to see it, Steve’s broad chest brushing against his as their bodies meet, the swell of Steve’s arms enveloping him, Steve’s big palms splayed wide against his back, touching him. Gentle. Like Steve’s eyes on him are gentle; like the clasp of his hand on Bucky’s shoulder is gentle, always. So gentle, perhaps, that Bucky would hardly even feel the hug around him.

But he would take it, gentle or no. Because the truth, where it lies in the empty pit of his stomach, is that he starves for it, day after day, the want pulsing inside him with every beat of his heart. He just doesn’t know how to ask for it.

So Steve does the asking for him.

His hair is ruffled, limned with copper and wisps of gold in the late afternoon light, and his hands are unsure, nervous. But his eyes. His eyes take Bucky in, searching, urgent – and for a moment, Bucky is sure that Steve, too, must have been starving for this.

“Can I hug you?” he says, and the word sounds especially sweet when it’s Steve pronouncing it. When there’s a ‘you’ attached to it, and that one syllable becomes two, joined seamlessly together, and the new word rolls smooth and honeyed down the curl of Steve’s tongue, hug you, hug you, hug you. “Would that be okay?”

Bucky wets his lips. ‘Yes,’ he means to say, but the word that slips out of his mouth in a rasp instead says, “Please.”

So Steve gathers him close, two arms and one body and his nose buried in Bucky’s dark mop of hair, and he carves a snug space out of himself to make room for Bucky right there, his hands fisted in the back of Bucky’s shirt, their chests pressed so tight together that his heartbeat pounds behind Bucky’s ribs.

It’s not a passing touch, the fluttering echo of a hug Bucky feared he might barely feel. It’s persistent. It’s desperate. It’s a hungry little thing, a creature to be fed tenderly, steadily, so it’ll grow and live, and live.

He wraps his own arms around Steve, and grasps at him just as fiercely as his want commands, a wet exhale shuddering out of his lips to land in the crook of Steve’s neck.

He was wrong, he realizes now, framed in Steve’s embrace like a timeless work of art. He was missing a step.

A hug is a simple concept: two arms go around one body, and they hold on.

[seiwas]

for writing game, iwaizumi + assistance <3

hope this sparks some inspo and thank you in advancee

hi there!! thanks for sending in a prompt 🫶

contains: friends to lovers (ish), halloween parties, reader is dressed as catwoman, expletives, iwaizumi is thiiiiis 🤏 close to murdering seijoh4 (jk)

iwaizumi + assistance

this is a set-up.

iwaizumi knows he shouldn't have fucking believed anything the boys "promised" him back when they assigned him this costume.

the suit is fucking tight, spandex digging into his groins and all other crevices that definitely should be aired out after after a few hours. he's had to constantly readjust his stance almost every few minutes, the black fabric compressing his thighs and torso, significantly constricting the range of motion his shoulders and arms are typically used to. if anything else, it could double up as a back brace from how rigidly straight it's kept his posture all night.

he'll give it to makki though; he did outdo himself sourcing this year's costumes―this batman set looks pretty damn legit.

except for one tiny problem.

there's no fucking pee hole. it's a zip-up, zip-down one-piece situation. and that normally wouldn't be a problem, except that oikawa "accidentally" knocked over a cocktail straight into his pants, the sickeningly sweet liquid now seeping straight into the fabric and past his boxers―cold and sticky as it touches his skin.

and so, the problem: his pants are wet, it makes him want to fucking pee, and coincidentally, the only vacant bathroom is across the hall, at your apartment.

this is why he believes this is a set up. that, and the fact that you're dressed in an outfit strikingly similar―just with cat ears.

he's been asked five times in this party if you're in matching couple outfits.

it catches him off guard, flusters him because of how badly he wants to say yes. but, you're just friends, and he doesn't even think you like him that way (despite mattsun and oikawa practically begging him to confess. makki tells him he thinks you're going to do it first).

so he politely smiles and says no, but you look good, your costume clinging to you in all the right places. thank fucking god he has a cape because he's pretty sure he spent the first 30 minutes in the party hiding his boner.

"hajime, it's fine, i swear," you stand beside him in front of the conveniently locked bathroom in oikawa's apartment. from the other side of the door, he's pretty sure he hears mattsun and his girlfriend mumbling. maybe fucking? who knows. "you can just use the bathroom in my apartment."

he glances at you before closing his eyes, contemplating, before finally agreeing to you.

"okay."

if he's being honest with himself, friends is definitely an incomplete label to what you are. as oikawa's neighbor, you are conveniently around all the time; and oikawa being oikawa, the ever-social butterfly, he's somehow managed to carve a space for you in the friend group.

(never mind the fact that oikawa's sniffed him out from the moment he first introduced you.)

you were a crush, then a friend, and now you're someone he picks up from work and drives back home three times a week, because he "has to train oikawa." you don't question it, even when you both know he stays over for dinner way past the gym's open hours.

"you know where it is," you open your apartment and urge him in.

"sorry again," he turns to face you.

"yeah, yeah, just pee!" you laugh, shoving him towards the bathroom door.

getting out of the suit is manageable, and he's able to wipe off a bit of the cocktail that's leaked to the suit and his boxers just to make sure it isn't gross and sticky when he gets home later. peeing is a big relief once he gets it over with, but it's when he has to suit up again that things become difficult.

stretching out the spandex one body part at a time is a workout in itself―the hardest task being when he has to pull it over his shoulders, adjusting it to fit properly over his arms and chest.

but then the zipper breaks.

and he truly thinks makki has fucked him over.

iwaizumi contemplates what to do next for a good, good while. he tries calling oikawa, only to no success every time; no way in hell is he calling mattsun in the middle of having sex. and calling makki isn't even an option; he'd never hear the end of it.

then you knock on the door, your voice soft and concerned as you ask, "hajime? you good in there?" you hit it spot on, too, "do you need help with your suit?"

iwaizumi presses his palms to his eyes. he's a rational man, straightforward and logical in thinking. there is literally no other option for him right now but to ask help from you. again.

fuck.

.

it's 30 minutes later when oikawa barges in your door, and the sight that greets him is iwaizumi in nothing but a hoodie (the hoodie you borrowed some time ago) and his boxers, with his hands on your waist as you hover your hairdryer over the crotch of his batman costume―cat headpiece off and all.

"you finally got together?!"

[kaenith]

Color Fall 2023 - #3

That scene in the Temple of Darkness where Red and Blue are too wrapped up in their argument to notice the Big Poe always amuses me xD So... this is that, but with Pokemon!

Also, my piece for FS Fright Fight week two: hoax vs haunted

[technically-human]

So, @meraki-yao sent me a request today (thank you! I will work on it soon...ish) and I won't spoil what it is but it got me (and my girlfriend, because I showed her the request as I usually do) thinking and...

Edwin as Cinderella AU... Kind of

So I don't have a lot of details but the concept is basically one of Hell's tortures is just... Setting Edwin free for a few hours. Maybe he has to spend them at The Ball™ if we want to go the fairy tale route, maybe at St. Hilarions, the point is, he knows he has a limited amount of time because this is meant to be torture. Maybe it happens more than once.

He ends up finding Charles. They fall in love very quickly because this is a Cinderella AU, bla bla bla, come midnight, Edwin drops his map of Hell just like in the show and Charles goes after him, rescues him and they live happily ever after.

Perhaps it wasn't meant to be torture at all. Maybe it was Death, or the Night Nurse, or someone trying to help, idk. But the possibilities.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt 58 Part 7

The long dining room that held the ornate old dining table that seated way too many people already held  most of the family. Bruce was missing and Damian informed them he was at work, the only other person missing was Jason but it was typical for him to skip out as he didn’t live there and didn’t have the best track record with the rest of the family. That left Damian, Tim, Cass, Duke, and Dick seated.

Damian sat next to the chair that Bruce normally sat in at the head of the table. Tim sat across from Damian followed by Dick, Duke, and Cass. Danny sat next to Damian and Jazz sat next to Danny. 

“So, how was school?” Dick asked his elbows on the table with his head on his hands and a smile. He was the only adult in their life besides Bruce that actually cared about their schooling. 

Danny had actually forgotten that all of this had happened in just one day. The thought was a little jarring if Danny was being honest with himself. He wasn’t sure what to tell Dick, on one hand he was just asking about school on the other… no he wasn’t going to think about what happened right now. Just the thought caused phantom volts to go through his body like he was reliving the accident. He felt a nudge to his foot from the right and looked up to see Damian giving him a quizzical look. He cleared his throat and looked back over to Dick who was giving him the same kind of look. 

“I-I’m, uh… school was fine, didn’t learn much since school just started,” He eventually decided to say after stumbling on his words a little. 

“Dash isn’t picking on you again this year is he?” Dick asked with a concerned look on his face. 

Danny wished it was just Dash, the pain he felt from the portal was a thousand times worse than anything the bullying blond could pull. If it was just Dash, Danny could have just laughed it off and forgotten it probably, but it wasn’t just Dash and Danny couldn’t help but take a deep breath trying to gather his thoughts and calm himself.

He startled as he felt a hand on his knee, he looked to his left to see Jazz giving him a look of sympathy as she rubs her thumb comfortingly on his knee. She then spoke, “Danny you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Okay?”

Danny gave her a small nod, a small smile on his face. 

Before a new topic could be discussed Alfred arrived with their food and began serving them. Danny loved the food the old butler cooked especially since he was able to do so in a kitchen that wasn’t contaminated. Alfred did his best to make sure everyone was served food to their liking, as long as it was a balanced meal at the end of the day the elderly butler would serve just about anything you’d request.

Danny picked up his fork to begin on his salad, however when he tried to push the fork into the lettuce his hand felt a cooling sensation with pins and needles and his fork went through his hand. He stared at his hand for a moment wondering what just happened. He then picked up his fork to try again and was able to get a mouth full, but when he went for a second bite it happened again, his fork clanging against the bowl again.

“Something wrong Danny? You're staring at your hand weird,” Danny heard Dick speaking and looked up to see Dick staring at him giving him an odd look. 

Danny couldn’t help but rub his neck nervously with his other hand, he hoped to get ahold of whatever this was so no one noticed. Though knowing his luck everyone probably did notice, over the years he and Jazz both noticed that the Wayne family was much more observant than their media persona’s showed. 

Dinner continued and Danny struggled to eat anything as anything he tried to hold fell through his hand frustratingly and Danny couldn’t help but get agitated. 

Eventually his glass he was holding slipped through his hand and tumbled onto the floor shattering into a thousand pieces. Danny let out a frustrated sigh as he stared at the mess he made. 

Before he could stand to clean up Alfred appeared by his side with a dustpan and broom and began cleaning it up, “are you still feeling unwell Master Daniel? Perhaps you should retire for the evening, I will attend to this mess.” Danny begrudgingly nodded his head and made his way out of the room.

He wasn’t alone for long as Damian and Jazz tailed him out of the room. 

“What was that? It looked like your spoon was going through your hand,” Jazz asked after they were a ways from the dinning room.

“Jazz, honestly I don’t know, it felt cold and then anything I tried holding fell through my hand.” Danny brushed his bangs away from his forehead and they dropped back into his face as he dropped his hands back down to his side.

The walk went silent after that, although it didn’t stay for long as Danny felt the cooling sensation again but this time through his whole body, he let out a yelp as he felt his body sink into the floor.

Damian and Jazz looked at him with panic but as they grabbed at his arms or his hands to pull him back up they went through him just as the spoon and apparently the ground now. 

He let out a panicked yell as the floor swallowed him whole, so now he was sinking further down further into the earth. What was going to happen to him? Would he ever find his way back up?

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long as the cooling sensation left and as gravity took hold of him again he fell. Apparently there was a cave under the manor and he was able to turn back into solid as he felt air again. There was no way he was surviving this, even with new weird powers now was when he’d get impaled by spikes right?

The cave was too dark to make out much but Danny thought he might have seen a computer with several monitors. That didn’t matter now as he finally landed, and he grunted as he landed on a person who also grunted as having a teen land on you couldn’t be the most comfortable.

He knew he was in big trouble when he realized who he landed on, “Batman??”