#protecting my peace and all that jazz
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clockwayswrites · 2 months ago
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Uncle John Part 2
masterpost
Even though Bruce knew what he was opening the door to, it was still almost startling to see John Constantine shielding two teenagers on the other side. The oldest was a redhead, though Bruce could only tell that from the fierce eyebrows. The hair of both teens had been shaved so close to the scalp that it was basically nonexistent. From what little Bruce could see of the second, behind the protective forms of John and the red head, the second teen’s head was also bandaged from what little Bruce could see under the hood of the thick sweater.
Whatever they had been through was clearly no small matter.
“Who’s all here?” John asked as he entered, looking around the foyer as he slunk into the room.
The kids stayed close to his back.
“Just Alfred and Tim. Alfred is in the kitchen and Tim is up in his room, though he was excited to know that there would be other teens visiting,” Bruce said, keeping his personage open and calm.
Excited was at least an honest enough word for Tim’s curiosity that Bruce had tone his bet to tamper. It didn’t seem the time to pry and Bruce was sure to learn far more as he set up the new identities.
John’s frown said he knew exactly what excited meant for Tim.
“He can help us instead if you’d rather,” Bruce offered to keep the peace, “but I thought that the kids might enough just playing some video games and enjoying Alfred’s snacks while we worked.”
“Stop that,” John said.
“Stop what?” Bruce said, blinking guilelessly.”
“Making fuck’n sense.”
The kid in the hood muffled a laugh into the thick fabric. The sound made Bruce smile. It wasn’t so very bad if they could still laugh. It meant that there was still hope.
“Tim is my current foster,” Bruce said, as that was the easiest way to explain things. “I would guess he’s around your ages. And I’m Bruce, a friend of John’s.”
John snorted. “He comes off as a rich playboy, but he’s one of the good ones, if you’ll believe that.”
“Thanks for that rousing endorsement,” Bruce said dryly.
John just grinned back, his smile a little more teeth than normal.
“I’m Danny,” the one in the hood said, still mostly hidden behind the redhead. The voice was scratchy, like it have been overused recently. The fingers that clung to the too large flannel shirt the redhead wore were covered in bandages. “This is my sister Jazz.”
Jazz regarded him with frozen blue eyes. “If you do anything to hurt him, I will find some way to hurt you worse.”
“That’s fair,” Bruce said calmly. “All I want to do is what John asked me to: which is to make you new identities so that you will be safe. Well, I would also hope that you both could relax some and enjoy some of Alfred’s cooking. His cookies especially are something amazing.”
Jazz searched his gaze for a moment longer before almost reluctantly nodding.
“Would you be alright with Tim joining you two?” Bruce asked.
Jazz glanced back at Danny before nodding again.
“Let me show you to the media room then,” Bruce said and started leading the group that way. He kept up idle chatter about some of the games he knew that Tim had been playing just to fill the silence and make everything seem less threatening.
It was still hard to speak of Tim like a son, but easier than it had been when Bruce had been the very broken and irrational man Tim had first come to. If Gotham’s spirit hadn’t thrown a fit, if Constantine hadn’t gotten involved… Bruce hated to think how things might have continued. Bruce hated to think what sort of mentor and guardian he might have been to the boy.
It was hard, but it was better like this.
Bruce opened the door to the media room with a smile. “Make yourself a home. I’ll send Tim down and either he’ll bring snacks with him or Alfred, a demure British man who isn’t a serous as he seems, will bring them in.”
“Right, thanks,” Jazz said and pulled her brother inside with her. She closed the door on them.
Bruce looked at Constantine who rubbed calloused hands over his face.
“Yeah, mate, it’s… it’s rough.”
Bruce reached out and clasped his shoulder in commiseration.
---
AN: This was still stuck in my head so have some more! I'm thinking end game Danny/Jason, because it's me, and Jazz/Steph because Steph deserves to be a disaster bi with her own fierce, magic user redhead.
Obvious canon divergence due to the added ghostliness.
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laxxarian · 10 months ago
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Dani grew up and became a mother
Danny finally lifted the ecto-laws with the help of Jazz, Sam and Tucker a few years back just so Dani could live and explore freely without hiding. And the law that is being added now is about meta protecting thing and Dani is considered as one.
Now, Dani's life became peaceful, finds a man and ends up marrying and gave birth to a son named Bruce.
Last name? Wayne.
When Danny found out that Dani was killed, he mourned for her death and wanted to care for her child that was left alone in the world but couldn't because he was finally fully dead and also a king so all he could do was ask CW for a favor.
Clockwork knew that this would happen and that's why Alfred exists in the Wayne Manor.
Danny was planning a way to get to the living realm since there's no longer a portal that his family made.
So when he did manage to find one, a side effect got him de-aged and turned back to his 13 years old self when he should be around 30-40's already. He theorized that it may be because that's when he became a halfa.
But anyways, Danny tries to visit by knocking on the door. That's what he remembers.
Danny vividly remembers knocking on the door first only to be swiped fast by multiple hands of kids by the oldest to youngest.
Apparently, they all saw him walking up to the gate and saw his features, noting that he may be the next child of the manor.
Dick: Hey, B. You gonna adopt the guy?
Bruce: *stares at the oddly, eerily, familiar boy* do I know you from somewhere?
Danny: Baby B, it's me, your grandma's brother, Danny.
Tim: *Drinking his fifth coffee* Excuse me, what?
Danny: These must be my great-grandnephews/nieces! It's nice to know you're doing well then.
Bruce: You're alive?!?
Danny: No. But I came back to see if you're good. I'm sorry it took me long to get here.
Jason: Hold it. What do you mean by that?
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greenandsorrow · 11 months ago
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the price for misbehaving (i)
Alastor in the rut x gn!reader
WARNINGS; 18+, reader with female parts, horniness & hormones, deer/doe!demon!reader, breeding k1nk, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, premature ejaculation, masturbation, dry humping, penetrative sex, marking & biting, friends to lovers, very descriptive, smut with emotion, corn with plot, fictional man being pathetic
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Dividers by; @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either ❤️
I somehow always manage to write more than originally planned, so this is big. Also, this is my first time writing a gender neutral reader -I'm still learning.
my original idea • ~masterpost~
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Alastor is the radio demon. You have no clue how he manages to behave like he's the epitome of etiquette and a true gentleman, while also having the reputation of one of the most dangerous citizens of Hell, an overlord, a sinister killer and a cannibal.
Alastor is your friend. You fell in Hell three decades after him, but the fact that you're also a deer demon seemed to get him interested in you. His smile is less a sign of dominance and more one of sympathy around you. What's more, the radio demon is a tad bit protective when it comes to you. You'll never know it, but Alastor has his way of keeping you safe, discreetly pulling the strings, luckily for your sake.
He had been missing for years and when he had come to your door, big grin, shiny hooves and polished cane and had told you about the "Hazbin Hotel" you hadn't questioned much. It was weird that someone like him would back up Lucifer's daughter on such an idealistic plan, but with the extermination being a constant bane in your life, you had agreed heartily. You had wrapped your arms around Alastor's lean frame in a never recorpirated hug and you'd been off to your new place of residence.
You like the hotel. You and Niffty are old friends, the barman is a familiar face and Charlie is thrilled to have you here. The other residents have been no trouble to you, so you've managed to adjust to your new lifestyle no problem.
Let's not forget one thing though, you're all sinners and Alastor is ten times the amount you are. This comes with consequences for him. Alastor is bound to face an eternal struggle against his animal side, a struggle that he's been destined to lose. According to Angel, the radio demon you call your friend would identify as asexual had he been born later on Earth. But even with that, the urges he has to experience during the rutting season can't be prevented. You're still unaware your friend has to go through this.
But that's Alastor's price for misbehaving.
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It's another evening at the hotel.
Charlie and Vaggie are on a date and that means no planned activities for the rest of you. You like the peace and quiet. Your deer ears are lowered in concentration as you're sitting on the couch of the lounge area, reading a book which has turned out to be a sick and twisted edition of Pride & Prejudice.
Alastor's been very distant since the beginning of autumn. More than usual. It's almost October now... and it has peaked your interest why he has been spending whole days locked up in his quarters. Sometime during September, you two had been chatting merrily about jazz, when all of a sudden his pupils had shrank and he had let out an uncharacteristically shaky sigh. You remember how his breathing had sped up and he had smiled politely before vanishing into thin air.
You're about to stand up and go to your room, when your ears practically perk up at the sound of static. You know this sound... and even though it usually means bad news, you look up and give the source of it a little smile. "Oh, hi Al..."
Alastor's antlers begin to grow, but he can control himself for now. The rutting starts hitting him with a new wave of frustration -and it's getting worse now that he's in your presence.
"My favorite y/n! What are you reading my dear?", his grin and confidence hide how vulnerable he feels in this state.
"Charlie gifted me some of her old books and-"
"Oh Charlie! She is a gem, isn't she?" Alastor suddenly leans to the side, as if trying to scratch something out of his hair. His face quickly returns back to its normal grin... but he also begins to scratch his arm.
You chuckle awkwardly. Why is he looking so irritable?
"Well, she's so nice, I can't disagree with you there... and I'm glad she finally decided to take some time off to spend with her girlfriend."
He laughs, showing off his sharp teeth as you initiate in small talk.
Alastor can feel a voice deep within calling him to give in and claim you, breed you 'till his hunger is satisfied. The radio demon's expression fades to an empty, dull stare, as his instincts fight against him. Now you're feeling uneasy and you shift in your seat.
"Ah- sorry dear. Got caught up there, I forgot myself." Alastor takes a quick breath, his eyes narrowing as he struggles to stay in control. "Don't you worry y/n! I'm certainly quite harmless."
He's in full rutting mode, his voice starts becoming breathy -the animalistic urges taking over. It's only getting worse as he stands close to you, the hormones increasing his urge to be near you, to make you his and his alone.
His voice is hoarse now and his breathing heavier. "Have you seen Niffty by chance?"
His ears move as if they're itching him.
You clear your throat and try to keep your curiosity regarding his behavior at bay. "I'm afraid I haven't, she's probably killing bugs somewhere..."
Alastor's expression shifts to one of pure annoyance. To your oblivious so far mind, Al is probably just pissed off at something. "Well then, if you happen to see her, do tell her she better not disturb me at my room... and don't you dare forget it my dear!"
"I- I won't."
His pupils almost completely disappear as he stares at you and his mouth curls into a snarl with his yellowish teeth out.
He has a hypnotic effect on you, you're beginning to feel lightheaded being near him. He takes a step back, moving a safe distance away from you -because he feels like he's gonna launch on you at any given moment. Alastor is getting tired of trying to maintain his composure around you.
He hates how shallow his breathing has become, how the urge to take you has become too much for him to bear. A low growling noise escapes him.
Alastor watches as you resume your previous activity of reading. Humiliated from his lack of control and frustrated from the stinging sensation in his loins he slips away from the lounge.
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Alastor is alone now, his eyes wild with lust and desperation, as he looks around his room in a frenzy. He grabs a pillow and starts rubbing his groin against it. He feels like his body is melting from all the heatb -he can't help but imagine the pillow is your backside.
"Oh~", he breathes out raggedly, his inhales shallower and shallower as his imagination toys with him. You'd look so delicious in the place of the lifeless pillow... Alastor's heart is racing and his antlers have grown sharp and tall on his head.
He is overwhelmed, being rather sexually unbothered the rest of the year has made his shaft extra sensitive.
...why him? Why does he have to go through this rutting thing? It makes him feel powerless and he hates it...
Alastor groans in desperation. He squeezes his eyes shut, imagining your soft skin sliding against his body... He thinks of your cute fluffy tail. You get all your clothes tailored so that there's space for it to protrude while he always tucks his own in his suit pants...
In a fury, he takes off his coat and crawls on the bed, placing the pillow between his legs. He's in all fours as he humps it like a real deer.
He keeps growling, the sound mixing with static. He can't stop thinking of you -the perfect mate... another deer. Alastor's mind is playing out all these amazing things, your smile and your voice, your butt, your ears that match his own... and your neck that he'd definitely mark with his teeth if he was ever given the chance.
Alastor is in a trance. With shaky hands he curses himself for, he reaches down to his crotch and takes out his cock. His tip is flushed and swollen and he hisses as he continues to push his hips against the pillow. The deer demon grunts softly, his hips moving involuntarily with restless abandon as he pretends to be mating with a partner.
"Take that... oh~" Alastor's cock throbs painfully, desperate for release. The pillow has been providing him with some much needed friction the last few weeks, but he knows it soon won't be enough to satisfy him. His red hair is sticking to his forehead and he's panting so much -chasing his release with a desperation he'd consider pathetic, if he could focus on anything else than his tightening balls.
Alastor continues to rub against the pillow and the motion makes his tail slip out of his suit pants. He can feel his body heat up even more, sweat beading on his forehead as he approaches his climax.
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Your curiosity has gotten the best of you. You can't concentrate on your book and all you can think of is Alastor. In any case, the other residents of the hotel are busy doing their own thing, so there's no one stopping you from walking all the way to Alastor's rooms. There's static coming from his bedroom, but what really intrigues you are the groans... they're rather guttural... You assume he maybe hunted down an animal and he's devouring it? This has to be it...
On the other side of the door, Alastor is shaking with desire and his heart is pounding. The smell of you -that he assumes is part of his fantasy- is driving him insane, as he is almost ready to release a torrent of hot cum on his pillow.
"Alastor?" you knock on the big, ornate door.
This sudden interruption almost causes Alastor to fall over. He quickly covers his twitching member and throws the pillow away from him. One would expect him to feel embarrassed, but his first thought at being caught red handed is to kill you. Luckily for you, it's just a thought.
"Al? It's y/n. Can I come in?"
The radio demon's face contorts in desperation as he realizes how unsatisfied he feels. His hips are still rocking back and forth slightly, despite his attempts to control his body.
Why did you have to pay him a visit NOW? He was so close to finding relief...
Alastor has become desperate and not to mention agitated. What if you smell his arousal in the air? What if you look down and see the outline of his dick in his pants?!
He groans and shifts uncomfortably. The demon closes his eyes for a moment as he tries to even out his breathing.
Eventually, he shakes his head and walks to the door. He has fought against mighty overlords, he shouldn't hesitate to face his harmless friend just because he is in the rut.
Alastor doesn't want to admit it, but he most definitely is in breeding mode. Proof of that... the moment he opens the door, your smell becomes so strong to his heightened senses that he almost cums in his pants from it alone. Your friend bites back a groan.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my dear?"
Taking in his appearance, something is definitely off to your inquisitive eyes. You notice how he's only in his shirt and vest -something truly rare for the Alastor you've come to know. His bow tie is crooked and the cherry on top... you can see his tail! It's red like his ears and... moving? You wonder why.
"Is he in musth or something?" you joke in your head.
"I was just bored in all honesty... Everyone is occupied with something. Um... you look... sick?"
"Ha!Ha! Don't be absurd y/n! You can't get any sicker than you already are in Hell!"
He can't hide the slight edge from his voice. He claims he is fine, but the look on his face screams otherwise.
Alastor's temperature keeps rising, his body is so sensitive and without realizing it, he neglects to filter his voice.
"Would you like to come in?"
Your eyes widen and you look at him with genuine surprise clear on your features. He quickly catches up that he screwed, but lets it go, the shivers he's starting to experience as his unattended cock is asking for some action having gained all his focus.
The air in the room is thick and you begin to have second thoughts about your decision to come here, but it's too late for that, so you just walk in Alastor's bedroom. His quarters are always clean and intimidating just like their occupant. Still, you like coming here, he's never been hostile towards you and if anything, dancing with Alastor or spilling some tea with him has always been part of your routine here at the hotel.
"Wanna dance?"
"You know I always do." Alastor manages to keep his smile and composure despite the sweat running down his back.
The jookbox starts playing on its own and you casually walk closer to your years long friend. Since he's always been much taller, you place your hands on his chest, while he wraps his own around your waist.
Alastor's lips start tingling as he looks down at your exposed neck. He bites the insides of his mouth until he tastes blood -he can't allow himself to think about you like that.
You sway back and forth in the rhythm of the old timey tunes, inevitably rubbing against him. The new found friction has him biting down on his tongue and clenching his fists behind your back until his nails are piercing his palms -otherwise he'd be howling out in despair.
Immersed in the songs you love so much, you unconsciously shift even closer to your fellow deer demon, but he harshly jerks away from you, his expression growing panicked. "H- haha... I c- can't let you d- do that my friend!"
You frown. Why can't you dance with him like you always do? ...and did the radio demon just stutter? You sigh at his lack of cheerfulness and look down.
Your now downcast gaze gives you a nice view of his... crotch area... and the said area has a raging bulge. Your first thought is to touch it and indulge in the attraction you've always felt for Alastor, but the way his antlers are growing right now and the static that's peaking up again make you turn to leave.
Long fingers wrap around your wrist in an instant and when you turn back at him, his eyes have changed.
"The song's not over dear y/n.", he says in the same strained tone and you swallow.
"R- right... my bad."
He has you pressed tightly against him in no time and he's swaying with you almost like he's on autopilot. And you can now feel his unbelievably hard erection against your lower body. Alastor grunts softly, his eternal smile faltering as his cock keeps throbbing painfully within his pants, desperate for release.
The demon's eyes wander over you, taking in your form. He knows he has to maintain some semblance of control, but his hormones are off the roof. Without realizing the inappropriateness of his actions, Alastor reaches out to touch you, fingers grazing the skin of your cheek. The demon's cock throbs even harder at the contact, leaking pre-cum in his underwear.
"You're so beautiful..."
Heat pools in your belly and your face flushes at his simple comment. He's a charmer, but that's a new one. His monocle slips down slightly as he leans in close, his scent of musk and arousal surrounding you.
Alastor's hands move to your hips, pulling you impossibly close. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with lust and a primal need. He presses his hips against yours and you can feel his clothed cock twitching eagerly.
His monocle falls to the floor as he loses himself in the rutting.
"Al- what's happening?"
Before you can question his unusual behaviour any further, Alastor presses his hardened length against your stomach with intent. A mix of frustration and pleasure is clear on his features.
To say you're surprised would be an understatement, but you don't stop him. You watch in awe as your bricked up friend loses himself to lust and his need to mate.
Your innocent dancing moment has turned into him dry humping you. He releases a guttural groan -too far gone to care about composure.
Alastor begins to grind against you faster, mimicking the movements of a rutting deer. His grip tightens around you, his need growing stronger and overwhelming. The bulge in his pants keeps pushing insistently against you, but you're so stunned by this turn of events that you grab him by the arms and take a step back.
Alastor's eyes flatter open and for a moment... He snaps out of his blurry state of mind. He straightens and clears his throat. He then gives you a stern look, with ears lowered.
"Get out."
"B- but we were-"
"You don't want to make me repeat myself."
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The moment he's alone again, Alastor works the buttons of his dress pants in a daze, freeing his swollen cock. A low growl rumbles in his chest -and the deer demon is convinced that if he doesn't cum in the following minute, he's going to die a second time. He keeps making soft sounds, his body aching with the need to mate.
He had you right here, but he can't bring himself to be so vulnerable in front of someone other than himself.
What would Vox say if he found out that Alastor is forced to go through a mating season like some fucking animal? Why does the price of his sins have to manifest into some primal need to breed?
"Fffffuck!"
His mind gets fixated on the ache between his legs.
With an animalistic sound of pure lust, Alastor reaches down and wraps his fingers around one of his heavy testacles. He squeezes it gently, feeling his warm seed oozing out his slit. He leaks copious amounts of pre-cum on his crimson bedsheets. The radio demon watches, transfixed by the sight of his own seed dripping down the length of his hard dick. It's a powerful aphrodisiac for him and he can't help but imagine it spilling into you instead.
His cock twitches in anticipation and he gives in. Every day since the rutting season began, he has been trying to suppress his instincts and today has been no different, if anything, your presence made his hormones go even more nuts... and you should be happy you're not carrying his fawns by now.
Alastor begins to stroke himself -legs spread and sweat making his clothes stick to his body. His breath catches in his throat as his hips involuntarily back into his hand. The tips of his claws grow slightly and he's jerking himself off at a punishing pace now. Alastor's groans turn into pleasured whimpers as he arches his back, driving his erection deeper in his hand.
What would it feel like to finish inside you? To make you come... To have your heat contracting around his rock-hard member as you milk him past the point of no return?
"Oh- ...agh- y/n..."
He's murmuring things in unknown languages, but it all comes back to your name.
Alastor's hips begin to thrust forward in time with his strokes, seeking release from the torment of his lust. He snarls and growls in a throaty manner. He physically can't take it anymore, his balls feel like they're on fire...
The radio demon's eyes roll back in his head, the pleasure is intense, but it's only fueling his desire for a real partner more.
His fingers are sliding up and down his sensitive shaft and he can feel himself getting closer -but he knows that's not enough. Alastor's breath has become ragged, his monocle forgotten along with his pride somewhere far away... his vision is blurring...
Feeling himself nearing the edge, Alastor grits his teeth and pushes through the ache. His muscles tense... and then, he finally comes in a powerful burst of pleasure, shooting thick ropes of cum across the room. He keeps coming, his hips bucking upward, pushing his cock even deeper into his fist as he empties himself.
Alastor's orgasm was intense -almost violent- but it was the sweet release he's been craving all day long. As his climax finally begins to subside, the demon collapses back onto the bed, panting heavily.
However, his cock has remained hard and throbbing between his legs, demanding more attention as he tries to catch his breath.
Slowly, a tired Alastor sits up and glances down at his still engorged member. A part of him is reveling in the feeling of power that comes with being so thoroughly aroused, but he's not ready to admit that. For now, needs to fuck something, anything.
But hasn't he been tormented enough? Why isn't he satisfied yet?
He reaches for the nearest object. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it can take his cock and bear the brunt of his ferocious passion. With a sinister chuckle, Alastor picks up another unlucky cushion and holds it tightly against his hips. His cock jerks repeatedly as he positions himself with the head of his shaft pressing against the soft fabric.
The cushion offers little resistance but serves as an outlet for Alastor's raging desire. He pounds away at it, relentlessly, his body shaking. With the ever present sound of static -evidence of his frustration-, he rhythmically pistons in and out of his makeshift partner with brutal force.
He's been doing this for weeks now, all the unsatisfied hunger making him lose his sanity bit by bit.
The radio demon's eyes are glazed over with passion. He continues fucking the cushion with savage intensity... still he wishes he could take it out on someone made of flesh and blood, someone who would react and offer him some reassurance that he's not going to pass out.
The pleasure is threatening to overwhelm Alastor once again and with labored breathing, he frantically moves his hips-
"N- no, n- no....agh-" he lets out a feral roar, spurting a sticky cumshot onto the cushion. This time, when he collapses on the mattress, he is exhausted.
He doesn't bother looking down at his angry cock, the discomfort isn't going away till the mating season ends...
...let's go back to you now.
After being so abruptly pushed away by Alastor, you went straight to your room. You have a lot to ponder over after tonight. Maybe you did have a small a crush on your friend that had allowed the situation to escalate. His behavior has been so off putting though.
You'd been proud of yourself, considering that you know Alastor better than anyone else in Hell, since he talks about everything with you over a cup of tea. He had been so excited to tell you he'll soon be back on air and he's always somewhere around you at all times. So, the fact that he just expressed sexual desire for you and then told you to leave him alone immediately after...
You would have never guessed that your fellow deer demon is interested in sex. He's been in the company of some of the most desired demons, but he's simply not into that kind of thing... Yet, he had dry humped you like some desperate animal.
His scent had been so blissful to your nostrils, that he had almost woken something primal in your own body. There's definitely a lot of tension between you two now and you hope that tomorrow he will approach you.
You sigh and get all cozy under your bed covers. How should you deal with the situation at hand? You know him. Not just the radio demon, or Alastor the cannibal, but him.
Maybe the whole redemption thing is working after all, but when did you start being so considerate and thoughtful of other sinners' hardships? And if your friend's hardship is a constant hard on, perhaps your services will be appreciated -or you've just been hanging out with Angel too much.
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It's a new day in Hell.
You take your time getting ready before joining Niffty in the kitchen to make breakfast.
Alastor is sat on his bed, his face buried in his hands as he trembles with unwanted arousal. He's almost at the point of a nervous breakdown. The radio demon is getting angrier with himself -the urge to find you and claim you is getting worse and worse and he struggles to maintain his calm.
Alastor gets ready. His routine a bit different when in rutting mode. He first relieves some of the pressure in his balls, he then puts on a clean shirt, fixes his hair and places his red monocle back in place. And of course, his smile, because he's never fully dressed without one!
"Oh good morning my fellows! What a pleasant breakfast you seem to be having!" He prefers to eat alone, so him appearing late isn't something worth noticing... but the tenting in his trousers definitely is...
And when Angel smirks mischievously at him, Alastor smiles in such an unnerving manner that the spider demon has to cower behind Husk.
"Al! Morning!" you say a bit too cheerfully. Your ears rise on your head to match your general attitude.
The radio demon grins at you -internally relieved you're not keeping last night against him. He rarely feels any remorse -part of why he's in Hell- but he's not proud of snapping at you last night just because he's irritable and frustrated 24/7. You're a deer demon like him, but you never get in heat like an animal, you weren't as sinister as he was when alive and therefore your punishment isn't as tormenting.
You stand up and start gathering the dishes. Charlie is eager to help you, but you manage to deny her excessive kindness for once.
Alastor swallows a guttural growl as you turn your back at him and start walking to the kitchen, your deer tail and your ass all too enticing for him. His legs begin to move against his will, following you like he's being driven purely by instinct. He is once again biting his tongue hard enough to taste the familiar to him, metallic taste of blood. There is a certain strain the urge is causing him... and for once Alastor is feeling desperate for touch.
"Angel and I are going outside today, he said he wants me to meet a friend of his... Um, I think her name's Cherri or something."
You obviously felt his presence, his red eyes feasting on your form the whole time.
"How delightful, making new acquaintances! I am still decorating my humble station. Haha!"
"Oh, I can't wait to experience your radio show again Al! It's been so long!"
His arrogant smirk is accompanied by a twitch of his stiff dick. The energy boost he feels when you acknowledge his power... it makes him dangerously lightheaded.
He walks closer to you, looming right behind you as you stretch to put something on a high self. Alastor has you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. The demon's cock throbs painfully against the fabric of his pants. The said fabric growing damp as he grows harder.
With a frenzied urgency, Alastor gives in to his animal side and leans in, his hot breath in your ear is sending shivers down your spine, your pupils dilating.
"Do you even realize what you've been doing to me sweet y/n?"
He is getting impatient... and when you don't answer him immediately, he presses his tent against your ass. "Do you my little deer?"
The sound of static feels the air, his voice distorted and his breathing heavier than before. "You... have no idea how much I want- no... how much I need this, with you."
You swallow, your own breath has sped up and heat has pooled in your tummy again. But when you turn to look at him, you come face to face with a hideous creature with wild eyes. You flinch. Alastor's smile fails him and you swear you hear the most discreet of sniffles coming from him.
"Help me." That's proof enough for you that your friend is going through something he clearly didn't ask for, but it's taking over him anyway.
Angel Dust has described to you how he'd needed time to get used to having multiple arms and you have to file down your antlers daily, so that they don't overgrow and cause you headaches. Alastor on the other hand loses himself to primal urges once a year.
You lock your gaze on his and extend a steady hand, placing it on the side of his pale face. Not only does he allow it, but your small gesture seems to have the effect on Alastor, his demon form receding -and you can see how sweaty and shaky he really is, while also trying so hard to hold back from bending you over the counter and taking you raw right now.
"Stay still..."
It's now or never for you. You hesitantly cup his bulge.
Alastor gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he leans into your touch. He's already so aroused that any contact sends shivers down his spine. He buries his face in your neck and starts nibbling or better... biting around your collarbones. It's a cannibalistic urge of his, but he would kill himself before causing you any real harm.
Alastor groans, his still clothed member twitching under the pressure of your hand. The demon can barely think straight -rutting instincts taking over completely.
"I need... I need to be inside you." He can only whisper, reaching down to pull your shirt up, his fingers trembling as he does, revealing your upper body to him. "Yes... I need you."
This is all so sudden for you, but you finally know with certainty what's happening. "You're... mating or something?"
You stop rubbing his clothed crotch and Alastor moans, the sound carrying the old audio-like effect. He nods slightly, his hips bucking against your hand. He's so close to losing control. The mating season has driven him mad with lust. A lust projected on you, it seems.
"Y/n... I need you now."
"Al... They- They're gonna hear us... We're in the frickin' kitchen! ...we can't... can't-"
Alastor's eyes widen and he stumbles back, his erection pleading to be freed from his dress pants.
He looks at you incredulously, angrily. "What?! But I... I said that I need you." He starts panting, there's a look of betrayal on his face that has you short circuiting.
"I'm already half naked here and you're... You're obviously hard- It's too risky!"
"I. Don't. Care."
"Well you should... but..." you sigh.
"I do have another idea. I've been rather inactive in the afterlife but... I can do it for you."
Your friend's heart is racing with anticipation. He tries to control his unsteady breathing -without much success.
"Another idea?" he asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "What is it?"
"I know it's not what you really crave... but I can... you know... jerk you off?"
Did you really just say that?
He begins to unbutton his pants hurriedly.
"Very well..."
As Alastor's pants fall to his knees, he scratches his fluffy ears, presenting his throbbing member to you. It's a sight to behold -long with a shimmering dew covering the tip.
"Do it."
Your mouth waters as your eyes take in Alastor's cock. The head of it is a deep reddish purple, almost glowing. His ballsack hangs heavy, filled with seed, so that he can breed for as long as the rutting lasts. Something must've altered in your brain's chemistry, because you take his balls in your hand, fondling them. The deer demon lets out a low moan, his hips thrusting forward slightly. The sensation of your hand on his sensitive balls is almost too much for him to bear...
"More..." he manages to whisper between pants.
Encouraged by his reaction, you squeeze his balls softly and Al lets out a throaty groan, his dick twitching, almost ready to explode. He's not used to other people touching him.
You're still unsure if that's the right thing to do in the kitchen, where anyone can walk in at any given moment. But he seems to be really into it and the look in his eyes makes it clear to you that you can't just stop now. So that's what he's been struggling with, what's been making him stay locked in his room, until dealing with it on his own wasn't enough.
Alastor's gaze is pleading you and his voice comes out shaky, unfiltered.
"Please... I need more..." He then reaches down and moves your hand on his eager cock. You wrap your fingers around his length, with your thumb resting on his head, tracing it slowly. The sounds he makes and the way his features contort with pleasure makes you start stroking him.
The overlord can't believe what's happening. He has never experienced anything like this and it feels incredible. The more you stroke him, the more he bucks his hips into your hand. "Y- yes... just like that..."
You feel so confident now that he seems to have let go completely, allowing you to do as you please with his body. You know teasing isn't fair, especially in his hormonal state, but you can't help slowing down your hand's movements -playing with the friction you're providing him with. He lets out a frustrated huff of air, his nostrils flaring.
"Faster."
"Nope, I told you I don't want anyone finding us out."
"I didn't ask you darling. It was an order."
You stubbornly slow down your hand even more and you know that this is far from enough for him. Alastor needs more speed, more pressure.
"I... Don't... Give a single penny if they'll hear us... J- just... y/n, get me there." His body trembles with need as he speaks to you.
"You... You accepted to help me... And yet, you- you refuse to give me what I want." He looks down at your lips with a mix of lust and anger in his bright eyes.
You suppress a mischievous giggle.
It's empowering seeing such a strong demon being dependent on you. You can feel the heat radiating from his dick and he makes a desperate little sound when you begin moving your hand up and down his long member again.
You almost feel pity for him -teasing is fun, but you don't want to disrespect him or humiliate him while he's so vulnerable and out of control. Though that decision has nothing to do with the fact that he could kill you, you actually feel strongly for him and the way both pairs of your ears move in sink as you pick up pace is so... natural for you, like you two belong together in a primal sense.
Alastor feels his muscles tensing up and his black heart is pounding like crazy.
"I can't- can't-"
He looks mesmerized at your hand jerking him off at a now delicious speed.
You are so turned on and you want to give him all the pleasure you can, even if you're in the hotel's kitchen. You begin sinking on your knees and you see him gulp. Your friend freezes for a moment, his mind racing with images of pleasure and ecstasy.
"That's new."
"How so Al?"
"I've never had that... but I want to now."
You can't help but smile. He probably never wanted a blow job before and he won't be in the mood for one after the rutting ends.
You're now at the right height so you just go for it, leaning in. Your tongue swirls around his pulsating cockhead and you're surprised from the amount of pre cum he can produce. Alastor's eyes roll back in his head as he lets out a long, low moan. The sensation of your warm breath and wet tongue on him sends shivers down his spine.
"Don't stop..."
You lick his slit and he groans deeply, his eyes squeezing shut. "Yeah... Keep doing this... agh~"
You're offering stimulation and he's gritting his teeth at the feeling, but something isn't quite right. You're once again toying with him, denying him the release he so desperately wants.
"I will have you... eventually."
Alastor then takes a big breath, his cock is still hard as steel. "You're a real temptation~" He glares at you -rather hungrily- his nostrils once again flaring.
"Don't try to make me beg."
"But would you now?" Under any other circumstances, you'd never be that bold with him....
Alastor laughs darkly in response to your challenge, causing a cold chill to run down your spine.
"You wound me, my dear. I would never beg for anything... Especially not when it comes to satisfying this... this unwanted but still unyeilding desire..."
You smile wickedly -your ears conveying your feelings, as always, when they move. In a swift motion, but still cautiously, you push back his foreskin. A low, agonizing moan escapes Alastor's lips as your action exposes his sensitive flesh to the air. Hips jerking forward involuntarily, seeking more contact with your hand...
"You're killing me mon cher~"
"Buckle up Al..."
You start stroking him thoroughly.
The radio demon closes his eyes, ragged breaths leaving his open mouth as you jerk him off. Every fiber of his being is focused on the pleasure. He groans... feeling his elusive climax approaching at last. "Unh..."
You're now applying some serious pressure on his throbbing dick. With a primal scream, Alastor's entire body tenses up and he begins releasing his seed on your hand.
"Oh goodness..." He keeps groaning and you can see him shudder as he does so. He continues spurting thick, white fluid onto your hand, seemingly unable to stop himself.
In his eyes there's a mix of lust and gratitude. He licks his lips unconsciously.
"What else can you do to me?"
"W- What? Me?"
The demon chuckles lightly at your question. His eyes trail down your body appreciatively when you stand up. "And why not you? You're here and I need some action these days!"
He grins and you sigh.
"Well, that means it could be anyone... anyone other than me."
You don't like how this revelation makes you feel sad and disappointed.
A sly smirk plays at the corners of Alastor's mouth. "I suppose it could, but then again, why settle for anyone when I can have you?"
His voice is husky and you like this tone from him. "You and I belong together, dear y/n."
He's clearly considering you his mate now.
Your romantic side wins and you cup his face. That seems to sober him up if just for a few minutes. The overlord looks like he's savoring the sensation and a deep sigh escapes him. "I don't deserve this, not with you."
"But I do want to be present through this... I get it."
The glimmer of hope returns to his eyes. "You have to mean it."
"I won't leave you suffering alone Alastor."
He nods as he thinks it over. "In that case... I'll accept your offer."
You smile sweetly. This isn't that bad. He didn't even ask for a deal. You stand on your hooves and give his cheek a little kiss. He beams at you as he takes hold of his signature cane.
"Oh I think I'm going to enjoy this!"
"Haha, so do I... B- But let's make you something to eat before you get all excited again..."
"That's a wonderful idea darling! And I might as well tell you about Susan's new act while you're at it."
Alastor feels a warmth he hasn't in a long time. As you work on preparing food for him, he seems content and somewhat at peace. But then, like clockwork, the desire is going to build up again. Through the week the rutting hits him anew and he becomes extremely short-tempered. He has to change rooms when Charlie starts singing and he's constantly arguing with Husk.
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Alastor surprises himself.
During the times he does manage to control his primitive urges, he's actually avoiding you. He has this idea that he would end up hurting you if things ever escalated fully between you two.
Could this mean that he actually cares about your wellbeing?
He is an overlord. He is the one and only radio demon, there's no way he has a soft spot for his fellow deer demon -who had relieved him of weeks of pent up tension just with their touch.
You, on the other hand, feel no shame nor guilt for your little encounter with Alastor in the kitchen. If anything, the fact that he's still in his mating season is making you wet, longing for more.
One fateful night, all of you're sitting together, you across from Alastor's armchair... and it's impossible to not look down. He has a prominent bulge and you're not even surprised. However, when you look back up, you freeze like a... well, you do freeze like a deer caught in the headlights, because he is staring at you so very intensely.
The air feels thick all of a sudden and his gaze implies many things -to your delight. He excuses himself shortly after, but not before giving you a slight nod. He wants you now. He needs you now.
Experiencing a slight Deja vu, you find yourself knocking on his door the very same night. The Deja vu intensifies at the sound of static coming from the other side of the door. You decide to let yourself in when there's no answer. "Al?"
A pair of big and intricate antlers comes in your vision. The smell of him floods your senses. It's intoxitacing, addictive. You want him too.
Alastor wastes no time.
He pushes you up against the nearest wall, his body pressing tightly against yours. His breath is coming in ragged gasps, his eyes full of lust and desire. The demon growls, baring his teeth in a feral grin.
In one swift motion, he tears your clothes from your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable before him. His eyes roam over your exposed flesh, his lips parted in a wicked grin.
With an animalistic growl, he buries his face between your breasts, sucking on your nipples with rough abandon. You moan and arch your back, the sensation sinfully satisfying. Noticing your response, Alastor's movements become even more frenzied. He reaches down to grip your hips, lifting you up onto the wall.
You then unzip his pants, lost in the haze of your increasing desire for him. Alasor groans when you do that, his hips bucking forward as you free his cock from its confines. It slaps against your lower stomach -rigid and angry.
With another feral growl, Alastor turns you around so that you're facing the wall -gaining a perfect view of your ass and tail.
You gasp as he parts your folds with his thumb, finding your already dripping entrance. Maybe he's not that experienced, but right now he seems to be driven by some infallible instinct. His finger doesn't stay in your cunt for long though, since the man is getting desperate to claim you as his -in a much more effective fashion.
You turn you head to the side and lock eyes with him. You shiver, almost scared at the pure hunger on his face. He thrusts into you with brutal force, driving his cock inside you deep and hard. His hips start pistoning against your ass, as he takes you without mercy. He's breeding, essentially. It's not meant to be slow or soft.
The gentleman you knew is gone for now, but you're digging your nails in his shoulders and letting out whines and moans nonetheless.
With each thrust, he growls like a beast claiming his prize. Alastor's eyes are wild and feral, reflecting the primal lust that consumes him. His heavy balls are slapping against your skin. You're turning to jelly slowly but surely, surrendering to him in way that feels natural to you -not forced.
Your old friend grunts in both pain and pleasure, losing himself in the heat of the moment. His fingers dig into your skin, leaving marks on your hips that show his possessiveness.
You reach behind you, grabbing his thighs to somehow ground yourself from the onslaught of pleasure in your core. A guttural moan escapes him as you touch his sensitive flesh. His hips buck against yours, driving himself deeper inside you and your eyes roll back in your head.
Alastor continues to pound into you relentlessly, his cock throbbing with each powerful stroke. He's sweating and he starts taking off his clothes -in a uncharacteristically clumsy manner.
He can't take it anymore, your tightening walls becoming overwhelming for him to bear. Feeling the pressure building within him, he growls low in his throat and picks up the pace even more.
The new speed he fucks you in has you seeing stars, the knot on your stomach snapping without warning. You cry out his name loud enough for everyone in the hotel to hear -but you simply don't care.
He moans your name as well, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives himself deeper into you one last time. His body shudders violently as he reaches the height of his own orgasm. Hot, thick cum is filling you up and there's so much of... It's dripping out of you and onto the carpet.
He finally did it. He's mated. He's bred you.
Spent and panting heavily, Alastor collapses on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder. You can feel his breath -and teeth- on your skin as you try to catch your breath. His dick is softening inside you, but he doesn't pull out just yet. His primal instinct is still active and making sure you take every last drop of his seed.
After you both relax in the present silence for a bit, he casually lifts you up and places you on the bed -the manhandling making you blush profusely, but he doesn't seem to notice. He lets out a sound close to purring as he lays down next to you, spooning you.
You sigh, feeling exhausted and simultaneously content. You roll over so that you're facing him... and he looks like he's already fallen asleep.
Your heartbeat has turned back to normal and you find shelter in his long and elegant neck, as you start dozing off into a peaceful and dreamless slumber.
He's not cold or ignorant the next morning.
...that morning ends up with him grasping at the air, as if searching for something to hold on to, as your head bobs up and down under the sheets.
It becomes common knowledge that Alastor's mood improves significantly after having sex with you. Something that does occur a couple more times in the spam of a week or so.
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You knew the rutting was coming to an end when his desperate and forceful claiming -usually from behind- became passionate love making.
There was this one night...
Like a true gentleman of his time, Alastor had made love to you with deep, sensual thrusts as your hands had gotten lost in his fluffy hair. You had been underneath him.
Your orgasm had been accompanied by a soundless moan as you'd thrown your head back and he'd nuzzled your neck, breath labored and a frown on his face as he'd come shortly after you. You had let him fall asleep on you that night, both of you panting, sweat covering you.
The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he is asleep, you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless next him. So you gently start caressing his ears -and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch, without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one.
Is this love? Maybe someday.
The End??
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ghouldump · 4 months ago
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hi your fics are so amazing!!
if you’re open to requests, i was wondering if you could write a lestat x louis x reader fic that takes place during their huge fight in the townhouse? i can imagine the reader being a mother figure to claudia and trying to protect her during it and getting hurt in the process of trying to break up louis and lestat. i’d love to see how the reader deals with the aftermath of her and louis’ injuries as well as claudia taking care of the two of them.
sorry if its confusing😭 i thought of this while rewatching s1
For The Love Of A Daughter | Lestat x Reader x Louis
ෆ out of fear, lestat does the unimaginable and has to try his hardest to win his family's trust back, but it may be too late
the comparison of s1 vs s2 of this scene had me on the edge of my seat 🥺 ⚠️ THIS IS S1 E5 ‼️
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How did your once beautiful family go to ruins? When Claudia was created? When she rebelled? Or when she left? Your daughter, you would go to hell and back for her, yet, you couldn't convince her to stay.
Lestat was cruelly strict with her, invading her privacy by reading her diaries, not considering the fact that she was trapped in the early stages of puberty for an eternity. She couldn't help that she was a young girl stuck in this body, and he never let her forget or made it easier on her.
Louis, he'd always been passive, about your companionship, as well as his role as a parent. He wanted to keep the peace and harmony. If that meant allowing Lestat to discipline her, then he’d turn his head to not have to watch out of guilt.
Then you, Lestat often complained that you spoiled her too much. You never raised a finger to her, nor your voice. You hadn't been brought up that way, and so you did the same with her. You still remember the night she left. Packing only a few things, while you and Louis tried convincing her to stay. Standing her ground, she gave you both a hug, letting the wind carry her away.
Seven years flew by, silence made its way into the house that no longer felt like a home. Louis nose-deep in book after book, Lestat leaving going god knows where, while you remained secluded, drawing, reading, and sometimes staring at the wall.
Tonight was a rarity, Lestat wasn't running off, and Louis sat on the sofa, reading, while you sat in a chair, your head lying on your arm, taking in the soft jazz music.
Hearing the door open, Claudia entered, setting her suitcase on the floor. Rushing over, you wrapped your arms around her, rocking back and forth. Pulling away, your heart broke as Louis hugged her tightly. He too had been taking it so hard, since she had been gone. Abruptly, the music stopped, Lestat glaring at her.
“The prodigal daughter”
“I've come to apologize, I put all of you in a bad spot, I wasn't right in my head. I am now,” she said. You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was something different about her, a certain brokenness, she was trying to shut away.
“Apology not accepted,” Lestat said.
“How was college? Magna cum? Summa cum? Phi Beta Kappa?” he continued.
“I've read a lot of books. Started with Persia and Babylon, the old gods who longed for blood. A lot of it was popcorn, but a few old tomes. A Romanian tract on vampirs. A strange old Hungarian text, ‘Masticatione Mortuorum,’ the chewing dead. I plan to leave for that part of the world as soon as I can,” she told him. You and Louis shared a look, sensing that this wasn't headed in a positive direction.
“So, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good,” Lestat spat.
“A quick stop to pick up my mama and Louis,” she told him. Your hand went to your stomach, trying to control the unsettling nervousness building up. Lestat glanced at the two of you, before glaring at her in disgust.
“Oh, Perused a few folklore anthologies, and now you're going to cross the ocean and take on a society of monsters,” he said, slowly making his way towards her.
“If what I've read is lies, then tell me what's true,” she told him, but he only continued to stare at her as if she was beneath him.
“Seven years and what’s changed, other than you need a housekeeper?” she sneered. He slowly approached her, and as you were about to step forward to intervene, Louis grabbed your hand, discreetly shaking his head.
“The vampires out there…are vicious. Oh, but you've learned that already. Who did you meet out there in the American hinterland? Read her,” Lestat looked at the two of you, walking away. Staring at her, you quickly wiped the tear from your eye, you couldn't imagine what she had been through all on her own.
“That’s it, keep 'em scared. That's his way,” she said to you both.
“The vampires in Europe are much, much worse”
“But I think he's scared,” she spoke over him.
“I never asked, how did Charlie taste? Like the love you'll never really know,” he said, trying to get under her skin.
“And when he's scared, he ridicules”
“She was a destitute little girl, destined to live an inconsequential little life,” he said, approaching the both of you.
“And we took it from her, we cursed her,” Louis said, making the smug expression drop from his face. Looking at you, his frown deepened, seeing you gaze at her, the bloody tears moments from seeping out.
“Come with me!” she called out, both of you staring at her.
“Come with me, mama, Louis”
“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat said, becoming angry as neither of you looked at him.
“I thought I could live without either of you, but I was wrong,” Claudia said, her eyes pleading for you to come along.
“Y/n, Louis”
“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat continued, raising his voice.
“His love is a small box he keeps you both in, don't stay in it,” she said, as you glanced at him.
“A thousand nights of sulking, and the first sight of her, you are just gonna up and leave me?!” Lestat yelled.
“Please, come with me! Let’s be vampires worth of your love!” Claudia screamed before Lestat surged, choking her.
“Get off of her,” you said, going to shove him off of her. However, he was much stronger, gaining the upper hand, his fingers wrapping around your throat, he looked unrecognizable.
“You, always choosing her,” he spat, before Louis charged over, tackling him.
As they fought, Claudia screamed, panicking, as you tried to keep up with them. Throwing Louis in the living room. Lestat straddled him, punching him in the face.
“Lestat, stop it,” you cried out, jumping on his back, but he easily slung you across the room, as you smashed into the wall, you could feel your arm already broken.
“Claudia, stay down here,” you told her, rushing to the bedroom.
“Stop fighting,” you screamed, as they continued tackling each other.
“Let him go,” you hear Claudia crying.
“It’s alright, you stay where you're at,” Louis told her, as if he wasn't completely bruised up.
“You're going to choose her too? Leave me for her when she left you both, I’ve been here,” he told you, as you slowly backed away, unsure of what he'd do next.
“Lestat st-
“Do not tell me what to do,” he told you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pulling you close. His nails were in your skin, with your airway completely blocked.
Dragging both of you downstairs, and outside, you could hear Claudia running.
“I fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper. I never once harmed either of you,” he said.
“Let him go,” you cried, hoarsely, trying to claw at his hand, while reaching for Louis.
“Silence,” he told you.
“Uncle Les”
“It's Uncle Les, now suddenly?”
“Let them go, they didn't do nothin’, let them go, it's me you want,” you could hear her steps approaching.
“Listen to me, and listen very carefully my infant death, it was never you. No matter how much your mama made you think otherwise,” he spat, crushing your throat, and dragging you both out into the road.
“I chose you, and you, given you the dark gift and you've betrayed me,” he said, biting into your neck, draining almost every ounce of blood from your body, before throwing you, watching as you flew into the backyard, colliding with bricks, you could feel your rib cage shatter.
However, as you stood up, you quickly fell to your knees in pain and fear for Louis’s life, watching as they flew into the sky to the point where they were no longer seen.
“Mama, are you alright?” Claudia ran to you, reaching for her hand, your other hand on your throat. You couldn't speak, Lestat’s nails had managed to pierce through. Claudia gasped, as you coughed, blood spilling out.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
“I’m okay, we just need to get Louis,” she said, helping you stand, however, just as you stood, Louis fell from the sky, hitting the ground. Limping over, you were afraid to touch him, the slightest touch looked as if it would break him even more.
Crying, you looked up, staring into Lestat’s eyes as he flew over you all, not saying a word. You couldn't say it, but from your expression, there was no way you could easily forgive him after this.
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Healing was a struggle, not just from the physical damage, but any previous trust was gone. While you managed to bounce back within a few months, Louis had a long way to go. Lestat skipped town and hadn't bothered to show his face.
You avoided thinking about him, altogether. Dedicating yourself to Claudia and Louis, from coffin-bound to limping, every day was progress. Louis was slowly getting better and you both worked on strengthing your bond with Claudia. Then the calls started coming.
All of this time, you managed to push through the soreness and pain, but the moment he called you hid away, licking your eternal wounds. He was a completely different person that night, the things he said, the things he'd done. After Louis fully healed, you were no longer opposed to the idea of leaving for Europe with Claudia.
Hearing the doorbell ringing, you turned your head, watching as Claudia went outside. You could hear his voice, he had gifts, and he wanted to talk, to apologize. Louis went upstairs, throwing his coffin out of the window, you couldn't help but snicker.
“There’s your answer”
“And where is Y/n? I know she would enjoy these paints, they are rare. I paid quite a price because I knew she would make the most beautiful-
“My mama ain't got nothin’ to say to you, like you said, she betrayed you, choosing me,” she told him, shutting the door, and locking it.
Coming back to the living room, she glanced your way before to Louis, who came from upstairs. As Louis sat next to you, you pulled him close.
“You okay?” you asked him.
“Getting there,” he mumbled, smiling as you kissed his cheek.
Lestat didn't show his face anymore, but the gifts never stopped. Each time more spontaneous than the next, and while you knew, Louis was becoming weaker, you wished you could say the same for yourself.
“Emily Dickinson is not a vampire,” Louis said, as you laughed.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Because she is dead,” you pointed out.
“How do you know?”
“She got a grave,” Louis said.
“And a tombstone,” you added.
“So do you,” She told Louis, all of you laughing, afterward.
As you crossed the streets, the driver honked their horn, as they slowly came to a stop in front of you. Opening the door, Lestat climbed out, smiling at you all. Rolling your eyes, you simply looked the other way.
“25 horsepower Rolls-Royce six-cylinder engine and a front end they call a coffin nose, is that rich? This one’s yours, mine’s back at home in blue,” he said, showing off the new car, and tossing the keys to Louis.
“I know how much you despise driving, so I got you other things, the finest fabrics, books, art supplies, and music, waiting for you at home, I'm back in town permanently,” he continued, looking your way, but you just stared off to the side, as if you didn't see him.
“Were you gone?” Claudia asked him.
“Across the river, in Algiers,” he said, you could still feel his eyes on the two of you.
“You know who lives in Algiers” Claudia said to you, as you clenched your jaw.
“I don't know what possessed me that night,” he said.
“Three years ago, that night, three years ago, he means,” Claudia corrected him.
“I was someone I don't want to be anymore. I've changed. Let me prove it to you. I’m nothing without you. I’m nothing without any of you”
“If you want me to go away, just say so. I’ll obey you. I’ll leave your lives forever. This silence is cruel, all I ask is that Y/n looks at me. You haven't spared me a glance since I've been here. Neither of you were ever cruel, don't let our situation change you,” he said.
“Just look at him,” Louis pleaded.
Turning to face him, he cleared his throat, straightening his posture. You didn't say anything, emotionlessly staring at him.
“You look stunning as always, ma chérie,” he complimented, his heart breaking as you looked away again.
Taking the keys, Claudia threw them, before scratching the car, reaching for your hand, walking away.
Six years, came and went, and more gifts flooded the house. It was unspoken between you and Louis that you both missed him. Although it looked different, Louis wanted him to come running back, each extravagant, but sentimental gift was tugging more and more at Louis’s heart. You preferred the distance, reminiscing on the past, before that night. You didn't think you could have that back, now, you secretly enjoyed every time he saw you, or wrote to you, begging that you would acknowledge him.
Unexpectedly, it happened, the record came in the mail and was immediately played. The song meant to win you both back while pissing you off, a song sung by his affair partner. Louis was seething, grabbing the record, and ran out of the house.
“You're not going with him?” Claudia asked.
“They will be back,” you mumbled, knowing his plan worked, he got through to Louis and would be coming back.
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“Rule number four-
“Kill Antoinette”
“Antoinette is my own private-
“Affair,” Claudia said.
“Said child, interfering in the romantic lives of her parents,” Lestat said, wanting one of you to stop her. She had been sharp with him since the moment he stepped into the house.
“She will be 33 soon, far from a child,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes.
“It’s a lick and a promise in vampire years,” he shrugged.
“Maybe, but I am not your child anymore, that's rule number five,” Claudia said, catching his attention.
His eyes shifted from her to you, your interlocked hands. She had you, wrapped around her fingers, taken from him. Louis was more willing to work on the broken relationship, but you had shut him out, choosing your child.
“I’ll be your companion, your sister,” she told him, as he scoffed.
“It's not as simple as choosing a new family configuration, now I'm your cousin, now I'm your aunt, I am your maker,” he told her rudely.
“I’m going to bed,” you said, standing abruptly, he looked into your cold eyes, searching for any emotion.
“Will you not lay down your rules, as well?” he asked, sarcastically.
“Good night,” was all you said, turning away, going upstairs.
“She needs time,” you could hear Louis say.
Did you need more time? You didn't go through nearly as much as Louis and he managed to forgive him, why couldn't you? You were never maternal until Claudia came along, perhaps it came with being a mother. The way that he treated her, turned you against him. As much as you loved him, thinking back to the times you were spoiled, lavished as if you were royalty, you couldn't bring yourself to open up.
Hunting became insufferable. Louis began drinking human blood, it was supposed to bring everyone closer, hunting as a family, but you kept your distance. He knew he'd wounded you, his choice of words hurting you just as bad, and he'd have to be more persistent to win you back.
“I wished you’d look at me, the simplest glance would help me a great deal,” he said, following you, sighing in relief as you faced him.
“Happy?”
“You have my heart at your will, your precious words command me, and I would do anything you ask of me,” he said, trying to fight the tears, as you slowly approached him.
“Take up your heart, I wouldn't want you to feel betrayed when I don't choose you,” you said, turning around, leaving him to stand there and try to gather his emotions.
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“Could you at least try to compromise?” Louis asked you, as you looked through the different fabrics in the store.
“I am-
“No, you're not, you put your coffin in Claudia’s room, and the other night, whatever you said, he cried himself to sleep”
“Aw, poor baby,” you said, placing the fabrics into Louis’ arms.
“You agreed that we would work things out, everybody is compromising trying to work through our problems, we need you too,” he said, pouting, as you approached the cash register.
“Fine, I hate when you give me that look,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him.
“Thank you, I love you,” you grinned.
“I love you,” you laughed, pecking his lips.
Later that night, after putting away your things, and changing into your nightgown, you were about to into Claudia’s room, when you stopped. Huffing, you went to your shared bedroom, opening the door.
“Did she say anything? I left a note, but she never responds,” Lestat grumbled.
“I talked with her, but it is up to her to make a decision,” Louis said.
“I hope you don't expect us to squeeze that coffin,” you said, making both of them face you.
“We could always sleep in the bed,” Louis offered, both of them approaching you.
‘Thank you’ he said, as you faced Lestat.
“Will you keep that stupid look on your face, or will you speak?” you asked.
“I didn't know it was okay for me to do so,” he chuckled.
“Y/n is willing to compromise, she hasn't said it verbally, but she does still love you,” Louis spoke, as you stared at the two of them.
“Ma chérie, if I could take back what I've said, what I’ve done-
“But you can't”
“I can't, and I will have to live with the burden of knowing I hurt you and Louis both, your role in Claudia’s life was never a problem, I am sorry, my love,” he said, walking to you, falling to his knees in front of you. His head laid against your stomach, and he continued to apologize profusely.
“To have you look at me, after months of refusal, even if it is a look of anger, is to see heaven,” he said, looking up at you. Reaching for his hand, you helped him stand, pecking his lips. Holding your hand out for Louis, as soon as he was close enough, your lips were on his soft skin.
Pushing Lestat onto the bed, you straddled his lap, rolling your hips, as Louis stood behind you, kissing your neck. Leaning down, you wrapped your hands around his neck.
“I’ll forgive you, but if you ever do anything remotely similar, I’ll make sure you burn in the sun, and I’ll wear you as makeup,” you said, making him smirk.
“Anything you say, although the thought of me being on your face, arouses me greatly,” he said, watching as you pulled Louis onto the bed, moving over to him.
Your nearly decade-long monogamy had now come to an end, sharing the night with Louis and Lestat. You had forgotten how spontaneous he was, managing to pleasure both of you.
‘Have you taken him back, like Louis?’ Claudia asked.
‘For now’ you thought, as Lestat kissed along your shoulder blade.
‘Do you think Louis will help?’
‘He will’
‘Do you think it will work?’
‘I don't know, my child, but we will try’
‘We can do it, mama, he wants to keep you and Louis for himself, he hates me and would probably kill me if it meant having you both alone’
‘I know’
Now lying in bed, Lestat in between you and Louis, both of you in his arms.
“I hope you will allow me to continue to prove myself to you, and I am lost without either of you, I feel empty without you both here with me, I love you,” he spoke, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered.
“Then it is official, we will kill Lestat’
‘And if our plan doesn't work?’
‘Then we escape to Europe, we find other vampires, and we rebuild our lives there, does that sound okay?”
‘It sounds perfect’
‘Great, good night mama’
‘Good night, my child’
Looking up at Lestat’s face, he lay peacefully, his eyes shut, face relaxed. He was incredibly handsome, you didn't dare tell Claudia but coming to this room, you were just as weak as Louis. Would you be able to kill this beautiful man, the love of your life? Or run away and live an eternity with your daughter? You couldn't decide anymore, only time would tell.
brotha eughhh, this was so mid
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raginglesbian2006 · 11 months ago
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what is your vision on Alastor with a Male Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is kinda rough? Maybe, since Alastor loves dancing and singing, Reader or feels shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings or doesn't hate it and watches Alastor dance and sing
ooh, this is a fun ask, lets go
Alastor with a male reader who's the complete opposite of him
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So you joined the Hazbin Hotel out of genuine curiosity
You had died fairly young, almost in your late twenties. You have never figured out why you ended up in hell
So it is safe to say, that when you heard of the Hazbin Hotel, you were eager to join, albeit a little skeptical
Of course, it came with your fair share of anxiety when you knocked on the doors of the hotel and were greeted with the ever-smiling radio demon
It spooked your little heart TO THE CORE
Ah well, fast forward a few weeks later and you were adjusting well
Angel Dust was quite protective of you, claiming you to be his younger brother
Niffty initially took to you since she thought you were a "bad boy" but hey, at least she considers you as a friend now
Charlie and Vaggie have been sweet to you and so have Husk and Sir Pentious
Of course, you'd have trouble trying to bond with Alastor
Alastor was loud, boisterous, and loved to scare the living shit out of people whereas you were quiet, reserved, and soft-spoken
Alastor didn't even pay mind to you that much. To him, you were insignificant
All that changed when he tasted your food though. You cook a mean jambalaya. (You were surprised to find Alastor's plate clean when you just turned around for one second)
After that, the radio demon hung around you from time to time and you started growing comfortable with him as well
You were not a fan of him pulling you along to dance on random occasions when jazz played through the radios
Still, you tried your best to keep up with him. You weren't into all the swing dancing so you resolved to just watch him do all the work lol
You aren't that chatty of a person so you just listen to Alastor blab about anything and everything. He once told you that you were a good listener and patted your head
He gave you a personalized radio one day. He bragged about how he came up with the immaculate design but you were too flustered to notice
So it seemed was the rest of the hotel
The big bad radio demon gave you a gift??? Are we talking about the same radio demon here?
It didn't stop there. You were bombarded with gifts every other day. Sometimes it was books, flowers, tea cup sets, or a full-on attire (He gave you a coat that looked just like his, except with the colors reversed)
You asked Alastor about his...frequent gift-giving and he very bluntly stated, "Why, my dear, I am trying to court you after all. "
Error 404
He took you out on a date after you recovered from your slight panic attack
You realize you don't mind being the radio demon's boyfriend
He even started being respectful of your quiet nature. He quite likes the peace anyway
Vox is foaming at the mouth and plotting to kill you as we speak
A/N: This turned out a little different than I'd hoped but I hope you enjoy it!
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revelboo · 1 month ago
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Please, more Jazz 🙏🙏 it's one of my favourite storyline of yours, and I honestly love jazz so much, the nicknames are doing things to me 🫡
Don't feel pressured tho, take care of yourself. You're the best! 😋
I’m good. Just slow down when I write long form rather than these quick fics
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Over It Now Pt 13
IDW Jazz x Reader
• Spreading out the blanket on the grass in the shade of the pin oak, he fidgets with the pillows he’d taken from the furniture on your porch. Satisfied, his attention turns back to your house. Watching your shadow moving around in the kitchen, as he heads back to the house and waits. When you finally open the door, you’ve got a tote bag in your fist as you awkwardly shuffle out the door with your crutches. Not even protesting when he reaches to pick you up and carry you across the grass to that pile of pillows.
• When he’d asked if you’d share a meal with him, it had seemed so silly to you. Knowing neither of you can eat what the other does, but he’d looked so serious when he asked. Not smiling like he’s teasing you and that’s what had made you agree. There’d been something real and vulnerable in that request. It’s chilly outside even with your jacket and you shiver as he settles you in the midst of what you’re certain is every decorative pillow and cushion that had been on your porch. “Thanks,” you say, reaching to touch his servos as he nudges a pillow closer and sets your crutches aside.
• “Surprised at how domestic I am, doll?” He asks, flashing a grin as he sits with a leg outstretched and the other drawn up, that little touch spreading warmth through him. Waiting until you unpack your strange smelling human food before reaching for his own energon cube.
• He’s sipping at that glowing goop, and you can see the mesh of his throat working as he swallows. Reminding you that even if he’s metal, he’s alive. It’s not like you haven’t known he wasn’t just a machine for a long time now, but it strikes you every now and then. “Just surprised you’re behaving,” you counter as you pick at your food, very aware of that visor flaring slightly. That he’s watching you eat with open curiosity to make you feel self conscious.
• “Nah.” Watching you shiver and huddle into your coat, he’s leaning forward. Picking you up plate and all, and settling you on his thigh against his frame as you inhale. “I have a reputation to maintain.” Servos lingering against you, he waits for you to get mad. But it’s your turn to surprise him by leaning into him. It’s only that he’s warmer than you are and he knows it, but that little show of trust throws him off balance.
• “The lying,” you say as you take a bite and he stiffens against you. Immediately on guard making you almost let it go. But that’s you, always unable to leave well enough alone. “You want to talk about it?”
• “Nothing to talk about.” He’s smiling still, but it feels brittle as one of his servos gently taps against your ribs. Wants you to let it go, don’t push. Don’t ruin this for him, because he just wanted to share a quiet moment with you. A little peace. Because the truth is that he doesn’t know how not to lie anymore. Playing spy, wearing a smiling, harmless face to hide how awful he really is underneath. Smiling instead of screaming at the things he’s been forced to do throughout the war. Things that haunt his recharge. That’s why he needs this, needs you. Your innocence reminds him of who he’d been and what he’d lost. And protecting you so you don’t end up broken and bitter like he is? It’s everything. “I’m just a liar, doll.”
Previous
Next
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kettlefire · 2 years ago
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DP x DC Angst Prompt
Inspired by the song Preacher by Roe Kapara
"This is a distress signal from Amity Park Illinois." A scared teen girl was the face to meet the staticy camera. Red hair pulled up in a messy bun, tear stains clear on her face, eyes rimmed red.
All options were running out. They had two days, two days before the hunt began. Two days before they lose everything.
A distress signal, broadcasted on loop, over and over again to any frequency they can get their hands on with the limited equipment they had.
"This Friday, at 3:15am, my town is going to make an irreparable mistake."
A soft clang rang from somewhere of screen, but that didn't shift her attention.
"My town, my home, has fallen to the manipulation of a deranged woman."
A choked sound came from off screen, sounds uncomfortable close to a sob.
"Amity Park has always been disconnected from the rest of the world. A small town, in it's own small world. Things have been happening here for the past two years, and now..."
She paused, glancing off screen before wiping her face.
"Now we aren't enough to save it. We did took too long to notice the cancer that was spreading. The hysteria combined with fear of the unknown that drove out town to follow her.
My name is Jasimine Fenton, I'm here with my father Jack Fenton. My mother, Madeline Fenton, is the reason the world might be facing war."
The video footage grew worse, static starting to over take the image and the audio.
"Dad, we're losing it!"
"Sorry Jazzy-bear" The new voice clearly came from a man, even if he stayed clear of the camera view. A moment passed before it was fixed.
"We don't know how long we gave before they find us, but... My baby brother Danny Fenton is going to be brutally hunt down Friday morning.
There's no time to put all the information needed in this signal, but I'm begging anyone who sees this. Please send help.
Anyone who has spoken against the plan has been imprisoned, the only ones from the team that's fear is us."
Jazz let out a shaking breath, staring off screen for just a moment before coming back, fresh tears rimming her eyes.
"All Danny every wanted to do was protect his home, and all he got in return was pain and hatred. Please, you might not know us, but you need to know. Danny holds a high position with in the ghostly realm.
Whatever you want to call it, the ghost zone, the infinite realms, or purgatory. Doesn't matter, all you need to know of the living kill Danny, the ghosts will rage war."
A heavy thud filled the room, the camera seemed to shake at the sound. Fear filled Jazz's face.
"Dad, they-"
"It's okay Jazz, finish the recording, they can't get in yet."
Jazz nodded, moving toward the camera. She seemed to cup it in her hands and tried to speak over the loud thud that continued to penetrate the area.
"We're running out of time, I hope this reaches someone somewhere. More than anything, I hope this reaches the Justice League.
Reaches them before Friday. Before the world is in true danger. Danny is the only link to peace between worlds. Don't let a woman driven by hatred be the end."
This time instead of a thud, it sounded more like a crack. The camera shifted and a view of a large man built like a tank was caught. A strange gun in one hand, and what looked like a strange grenande in the other.
"Jazzy-Bear, there's an escape tunnel in the back. Go, I'll hold them off as long as I can."
"No! I'm not leaving you!"
"Jazz-"
"No. I don't care, I'm no use to anyone by myself. We need to stick together."
"Jasimine-"
"I'm setting the recording to loop."
"Honey-"
Loud crash broke through following another crack. Heavy footsteps followed. Voices screamed through the air.
Jazz's face filled the screen completely as gunfire could be heard.
"Please send anyone, I can't lose my baby brother too."
And just like that, the screen went black. Barely a couple seconds passed before the screen lit up again.
The video starting from the beginning. Hoping for anyone to view it.
A cry for help cycling through an endless loop until it found it's self broadcast for the League.
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luvhu9hes · 10 months ago
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Part of Me QH43
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You had been in love with your best Friends brother for as long as you could remember. So much so he was a part of you.
Word Count: 3.3K
Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI, oral (f receiving), not proofread, I think that's all of it please lmk if there's anything else.
This is only my second fic i've actually posted, if you like it please let me know. Also this is kind of rushed at the end, but I'd be stressing about this for over a week so hopefully i've done it some justice. Anyways I love all of you who take the time to read my work! Go Canucks and all that jazz.
Summer was quickly approaching in Ann Arbor Michigan, and you were all but prepared for your trip to the lake house this summer. Every summer for as long as you could remember was spent at your best friend Luke’s family lake house. Your mom and Ellen Hughes (his mother) had met their sophomore year in college from playing on the women’s hockey team together. Their friendship had continued over the years and became even stronger when they became pregnant around the same time having you and Luke only a week apart from each other (him being the older of you two).
You and Luke were destined to be best friends, practically inseparable. Always going to the same schools, hanging out daily, becoming part of each other's families. Growing up with Luke meant growing up with his older brothers; Jack and Quinn as well. Jack was like an older brother to you, always being so protective over you. Even back when you were in elementary school, Luke’s other friends would tease you about being a girl and having cooties. After Jack had threatened them, they never bothered you again. Quinn was a different story, you had always had a little crush on him, (you’d never admit that to Luke, but it was true). Even though you had been so into him, he had never seemed to reciprocate your feelings, making you feel like his younger brother’s annoying best friend. For years you tried to get over your crush on Quinn Hughes, but to no avail, your heart still belonged to him even at the end of your sophomore year of college. You knew deep down, he would always be a part of you.
Always going to the same schools with Luke led you to where you are now, at the University of Michigan, sitting in your dorm room, clothes scattered everywhere. It was the end of the term, and you were meant to be leaving for the lake house in a mere 5 days, but excitement filled your mind. You were excited to be reunited with Luke, considering you hadn’t seen him in over a month due to him leaving for Jersey to fulfill his lifelong dream of playing in the NHL with his two older brothers. Though you were extremely proud of him for all of his hard work and accomplishments, you still missed him more than anything, having never spent this much time apart from him.Even though you were excited, the mere thought of spending another summer around Quinn had your stomach in knots. The two of you kept contact throughout the years, even with his busy hockey schedule and your school schedule you still made time to stay in touch. You weren't sure if it was your imagination, but something felt different about this summer, even if you weren’t quite sure what it was yet.
The drive to the lake house was peaceful as you listened to music and traffic was low. As you got closer to the lake house the more free you felt. All of the stress of the school year slowly leaving your body and the relaxation of summer being let in. Luke had texted you the day before that he and Jack were on their way, considering it took far longer to get to the lake house from Jersey. You had expected to be the first one there as you usually were, but to your surprise, there was already a car in the driveway when you had pulled up. It was not a car you had seen before, both Quinn and Jack had gotten new cars since the last time you had seen them, but considering you hadn't heard anything from Luke since yesterday you had a very strong feeling that it was Quinn's.
You entered the house voicing a quick “Hello?” announcing your arrival to whoever was in the house. At the sound of your voice a very tousled looking Quinn came rushing down the stairs to greet you. The sight of his messy brown hair and bright but tired eyes brought a smile to your face. Your smile was contagious as it brought one upon his face just before he engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. The hug was comforting, like coming home after a long time away, but that didn't stop the feeling of butterflies from erupting throughout your stomach. “Hi Quinn” your voice came out barely above a whisper, being slightly muffled against his chest. “Hey y/n/n, long time no see huh” he jokes. You can't help but chuckle at him as you begin to pull away. Though, Quinn clearly wasn't ready to pull away, as he pulled you back in and gripped you tighter than before. The slight action had you flushing and you were grateful he couldn't see your face at that moment.
Finally as the two of you pulled away, Quinn spoke up asking “Have you heard anything from tweedle dee and tweedle dumb? They haven't said a word to me since they left Jersey yesterday.”  The old nickname had you grinning as you responded “No, I haven't heard from them since about the same time.” 
“Well then,” Quinn smiled, “it looks like it's just you and me for a while.” You were sure he didn't mean to sound so suggestive when saying that, but that didn't stop the warm feeling you got from his words. Your time together was slightly awkward at first given the fact that you hadn't truly seen each other in a year, but as the minutes passed the awkwardness subsided and you both began to grow comfortable in each other's presence. Conversation came easily with Quinn, talking about anything ranging from your favorite music to how life at U of M had been. It shocked you how comfortable talking to him was, because even though you had grown up around him, Jack and Luke had always been there as a buffer, even when you had wished they hadn't. After about an hour of talking with Quinn you heard the familiar sound of another car pulling into the gravel driveway announcing the arrival of Jack and Luke.
Quinn and you immediately hopped up heading towards the door to meet the two boys. You were surprised when Luke dropped his suitcase bounding towards you before spinning you around in his arms. The suddenness of it all caused you to burst out with a pure laughter having missed your best friend so much. You and Luke had missed the look Quinn had given the two of you, but Jack sure didn't, smirking at the look of jealousy on his big brother's face. 
“Let he breathe Lukey” Jack spoke teasing his brother “not all of us have had the chance to say hello to her yet” Jack had finished his thought as he pulled you out of the other boy's grasp enveloping you in a hug of his own. Luke pouts as his best friend is stolen from a grasp, crossing his arm as he speaks up. “Last time I checked she was MY best friend, not yours” His whiny tone elicited a laugh from all of you as you pulled away from Jack.
“Oh Lukey, you don't know how much I've missed you.” Noticing Jack's smile falter at your words you spoke up again “before you say anything, I missed you just as much Jack” your words caused a giant smile to break out on the two boys faces.
After you all spent some time together catching up, you had excused yourself up to your room to begin unpacking for the summer. Your room was just as you left it, your bed made nicely and littered with stuffed animals from fairs and arcades that you had collected over the years. The walls were covered in pictures that seemed to show the story of you growing up, with photos of you at your first birthday party leading up to a photo of you and the Hughes boys last summer. That newest photo was your favorite, it was taken your last day of the trip when Ellen and Jim had stopped by, you were on Luke's back smiling as widely as your face would allow, while Jack was trying to act all cool for the camera. Your heart always seemed to stop whenever you looked at Quinn in that picture, he was wearing just a pair of swim trunks, showing off his toned body, but that wasn't what caught your eye, it was the way he had looked at you and Luke, he had so much admiration in his eyes, and if you didn't know any better, you would've believed that look was pointed at you and you only.
You're broken from your train of thought by the sound of a knock on your door. You muster a quick “Come in” expecting to see Luke, and are pleasantly surprised to see Quinn. “Hey Quinn, what’s up?”
“Nothing I just wanted to spend some time with you, I don't see or hear from you as much as the others do” Quinn admits rubbing the back of his neck.
“To be fair Quinn I you've never made me feel like you wanted to talk to me so I’ve given you your space.”
“I always want to hear from you y/n/n.”
Quinns confession has your heart beating faster in your chest, so much so that you're almost certain he can hear it from across the room.
“Yo- you do?” you struggle to form the words as you try to process what Quinn just said to you.
“Of course I do, I care about you, I want to know what's going on in your life, hell I want to be a part of your life, and not just in the summers.” his eyes are watching you so closely, as if he's trying to read your mind, trying to know your every thought. Your mind is running a million miles a minute as you try to think of a response, as you try to pinpoint the context for which he's saying these things.
“What do you mean Quinn, you are part of my life, you always have been” you finally utter out.
“I mean..” he says as he steps closer to you grabbing your hands “I want to be in your life as more than just your best friend's brother. I want to be the first person you talk to when you wake up in the morning and the last person you talk to before you go to sleep. I want you in the stands of my games cheering me on. I want to spend more time with you than I get, whether that means me coming down to Michigan, or you coming up to Vancouver. I want to be with you y/n. I’m so in love with you, and I have been for years. I can't keep that to myself any longer.”
Never in a million years would you have expected that from Quinn. You stared at him in such awe trying to figure out if this was real or some cruel prank the boys thought would be funny. And as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, Quinn speaks up again
“I know you weren't expecting this from me, I wasn't expecting it either, but after we spent all of that time talking before Jack and Luke got here, and after I saw how touchy Luke was with you, I just knew I couldn't hide this anymore.
After you still hadn't responded, Quinn began to panic a little.
“y/n… please say something.” That was all it took for you to snap out of the trance you were in and respond.
“Quinn, I’m so in love with you. I have been since I was eight years old and you held my hand after I had scraped my knee open. I've tried for years to push my feelings down for the sake of Luke, but also because I never thought you would be interested in me. I've never seen you as just ‘my best friend's brother’ , you're so much more than that to me, and I want all of those things too.”
The second those words left your mouth, Quinn wasted no time grabbing your face and bringing your lips to meet his. At first you were shocked, but you were quick to kiss him back as this has been something you had wanted for years. The kiss was full of passion and promise. Years of pining being made up for by one breathtaking kiss. You only pull away when you're both out of breath, leaning your foreheads together. It's in that moment you remember one detail. Luke.
“Quinn?” you ask, breaking the silence, only receiving a hum in response. “What are we going to do about Luke? How are we going to tell him? Are we even ready to tell him?” you start to ramble, leading Quinn to cut you off with another kiss. This one is much shorter than the last, as he begins to speak “Let's not worry about Luke right now hm? We can focus on us for now and tell him, and everybody else when we're ready. Okay?” The look in his eyes is so comforting, it genuinely has you questioning if you'll ever be able to say no to him. You know deep down you won't, which is why you say “Okay.”
So that's what you did. You and Quinn spent the whole summer focusing on your relationship by keeping it to yourself. That consisted of sneaky make out sessions in dark corners of the house, sneaking into each other's rooms in the middle of the night, holding hands under the blankets during movie nights, and sneaking glances that lasted longer than they should have. It sucked keeping such a big secret from your best friend, but you weren't ready to tell him yet, and you were enjoying your time with the man you loved.
Summer had come to an end much faster than you had ever expected, and that meant you would all be going back to your regular lives soon. You were worried about what that meant for your relationship with Quinn, being new to the whole long distance thing, but you were hopeful nonetheless. Today was the last day you would all be together, and you wanted it to be memorable. Luke had decided that going out to the local club would be the best way to spend your last night together, and of course Jack agreed 100%. 
That's how you ended up here in a crowded sea of people cradling a vodka cranberry trying to make your way back to the booth the boys had saved for all of you. You hadn't even made it more than three feet away from the bar when a hand was grabbing your wrist. Turning you come face to face with a strange man who's very clearly drunk. You try taking your wrist back, but his grip only tightens and he speaks up in a dark gravelly tone “What's the rush doll, I jus’ wanna dance” his words slurring as he speaks
“I don't think my boyfriend would like me dancing with you, i’m trying to get back to him if you don't mind” you tried to stay calm as you tried pulling your wrist free again, his grip bruising now.
“You don't have to lie about having a boyfriend doll, if you don't want t’ dance jus’ say that”
before you get the chance to respond you feel an arm wrap around your waist and hear the voice of your boyfriend say “She doesn't want to dance pal, leave my girl alone before we have problems” 
My girl, even though you knew you were his girl the words still sent butterflies to your stomach and a heat down to your core. At the sight of your boyfriend, the creep lets go of your wrist putting his hands up in surrender leaving you and Quinn alone. 
“Do you want to get out of here?” Quinn practically screams, trying to speak to you over the music. It doesn't take you more than a minute to respond with a yes. The two of you find Jack and Luke and tell them what happened and that Quinn had offered to take you home, and let them enjoy the rest of their night. Luke was worried and didn't want to leave you alone, but you managed to convince him to stay and have fun.
The ride back to the lake house was torture. Quinn's hand rested on your thigh while his other gripped the steering wheel, and he was drawing shapes into your skin, his hand occasionally going higher messing with the hem of your dress. He knew exactly what he was doing, though it was the slightest of touch, it still had you squeezing your thighs together. You glanced over to look at him seeing the mischievous smirk on his face. Shaking your head you tried not to focus on his touch and focus on the scenery on the drive back (it didn't work.)
The second you had made your way into the lake house Quinn was on you. His lips attached themselves to your neck leaving open mouth kisses and nibbling just below your ear eliciting a gasp from your mouth. You turn around in Quinn's hold bringing him in for a needy, almost desperate kiss. His tongue running against your bottom lip requesting access, which you'd be crazy to refuse him. He slips his tongue into your mouth massaging your tongue with his, as his hands start to explore your body. You break away trying to catch your breath as you grab his hand dragging you up to your room. You attach your lips to his again once you're in the safety of your room, hands reaching up to unbutton the slutty black shirt he was wearing. No matter how long you had been with Quinn, you still got nervous in intimate situations like this with him causing you to have shaky hands. You could feel him smirk into the kiss at the shakiness of your hands, as his own reached up to slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders. He was pleasantly surprised to find out you weren't wearing a bra, groaning into the kiss as his hands groped your breasts nimble fingers flicking over your nipples. The sensation had you pulling away from his lips letting out a low moan, spurring him in further as he lowered his mouth taking your left nipple into his mouth. Your hands made their way into his hair holding him to your chest, Quinn backing you up until your knees hit the bed causing you to sit on the edge of the bed. Lowering himself in front of you, Quinn looks into your eyes looking for permission as he hooks his fingers into your panties, you mutter out a quick yes and he wastes no time pulling them off and licking a long stripe up your pussy. The sensation has you arching your back lacing your fingers through his messy brown hair. The only noises that can be heard through the room are the pornographic moans and groans coming from you and Quinn as well as the slick sound of Quinn eating you out. It doesn't take much more before you're coming undone on Quinn's tongue as he helps you ride out your high. You and Quinn spent your last night together, sanctifying your love for each other and cherishing each other's bodies as much as you can before you get separated. 
Nothing could ruin the bubble of bliss you and Quinn had made for yourselves. Or so you thought until you were woken up in the morning by the sound of “WHAT THE FUCK” causing your head to shoot up to see your best friend, whose eyes are locked on the sight of you and his older brother laying naked in your bed.
This was not how you wanted him to find out.
Fin
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anon-e-miss · 2 months ago
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Reformation - 4
Jazz had suspected Prowl would not be thrilled to know he was carrying. There was no Autobot more focused on the Cause, not even Prime. No one worked harder to see the Autobots through famine, energy shortage, victory and defeat. Having an Omega in such a senior and specialized position was unusual but Optimus Prime was unusual. He had a few Omegas in important positions and he treated them as he would an Alpha. The only difference was that the Boss Bot was a bit more protective of his Omega Autobots, knowing full well even within his own ranks, there were Alphas who might do them harm. Neither Ratchet nor Prowl had ever needed his protection, both were fierce and self-assured. It was startling to see Prowl now, meek and dejected.
“Y’re okay,” Jazz assured him. Prowl shook his helm. He had to feel worse than low to actually admit he was in anything but perfect form. “Want to tell me?”
“No.”
“Okay,” Jazz replied. Prowl turned his helm. His expression was different, his optics were different. The pain was raw. Jazz held him, and he would hold him until the Praxian could keep himself upright.
“Okay?” He asked.
“I get it’s my business to be noisy but ‘m not ‘bout to interrogate ya, Prowler,” Jazz told him. “Ya got the right to keep yer peace.”
“I had thought, I had hoped maybe because it never happened before, he had not finished it,” Prowl explained.
“What to ya mean?” Jazz asked.
“I was bitched,” Prowl said and the saboteur’s spark went cold.
“‘M so sorry,” Jazz told him. What else could he say? It was the thing Alphas feared more than anything, even death.
“I don’t remember how long he had me,” Prowl said. “Three heat cycles passed but they have never become regular so I do not know how long it was. Quartexes, I guess. He raped me every mega-cycle. They just lasted longer in the heats.”
“What was his designation?” Jazz asked.
“He’s detained on Garrus 9,” Prowl replied. “He will never be charged for what he did to me. The hits he committed were considered more significant.”
“His designation? Jazz asked again.
“Why?” Prowl asked.
“So I know who to kill, Prowler,” Jazz said. “Ain’t that a given?”
“He is detained in Garrus 9,” Prowl said.
“Eh, ain’t that hard to bust out, can’t be that hard to bust in,” Jazz replied. Prowl dimmed his optics and leaned his helm on Jazz’s shoulder.
“You are needed more here,” Prowl said. “Or out on one of your ops.”
“Gimme the designation, Sweetspark, ‘n I’ll figure it out,” Jazz told him.
“Lockdown.”
“I know the designation,” Jazz said.
“Someone paid him to bitch me,” Prowl said. “He never admitted who. Since he was never tried for it, he was never forced to undergo mnemosurgery to force the truth out of him. He laughed and said he would have done it for free. I watched the interrogation tapes. I should not have.”
“‘M glad he didn’t make ya heavy,” Jazz replied. Prowl nodded.
“At first, I thought maybe he had done so much damage,” Prowl said. “He broke my pelvis, dislocated my hip, cut me all over. I thought maybe my frame could not be primed for it in those conditions. Then I had a heat, away from him. The enforcer did not seem to come any closer, nor did any of the Alphas after. I thought maybe Lockdown had not quick finished unmeching me.”
“Yer still a mech,” Jazz told him.
“I am an Omega mech,” Prowl said. “If a Beta is half a mech, what is an Omega then?”
“The most powerful force in the universe,” Jazz replied. “My Ori taught me better than to think Omegas weaker than me. He sure ain’t.”
“My progenitor taught me Omegas are all whores,” Prowl replied. “The one who bore me was caught in the act with another Alpha. He pled his innocence but my progenitor had seen him overload and dismissed him for being weak and disloyal.”
“That’s disgustin’,” Jazz said. “Ain’t an Omega’s fault. Halfwit Alphas’d rape Omegas to death all the time if Omegas frames didn’t have some defences. Ain’t weakness, Prowler, or disloyalty. It’s survival ‘n what helps ya to survive sometimes bleeds yer spark.”
***
Prowl had survived and to a degree sometimes he felt he was just still surviving. It had become easier in Iacon where no one knew what had been done to him. Though he had tried to remain not just in Praxus but at his precinct, after his broken struts had healed, it had not been possible in the end. His commanders had  been afraid to demote him or release him from his duties for fear of how it might look to the media but his command prospects had evaporated. Who would want an Omega for Praefectus? What Alphas would obey one? Barricade had taught him not to cow as Barricade had never cowed and for a time Prowl had thought he could continue. When he had closed his first case after returning to duty, he had felt reassured that his processor was still his. He had been in denial. He had entered heat while still on duty and the enforcer that had won the promotion that had previously all but certainly been Prowl’s had taken him into one of the interrogation rooms and bred him there before dragging him off to a nearby scraplet motel. Prowl had heard Nightstalker brag about fragging the stick out of his aft and Garboil and been audibly drooling when he said he hoped he caught Prowl his next heat. There was no way Prowl could have allowed him the chance. Barricade had been angry, not at him but at them but even his unflinching cousin had agree Prowl needed a fresh start.
“I want to go home,” Prowl said. He was defeated. It would not reabsorb. He did not have that kind of good luck. There was no point in terminating it because it would trigger a fresh heat. Omega code had cruel failsafes.
“Maybe my place?” Jazz offered. “Ricochet ‘n me got a place off base. I think ya knew that. He’s out on an op. You might like a long oil bath ya don’t have to reserve.”
“That would be good,” Prowl replied. Generally when he came out of heat, Prowl could not get away from the Alpha that had relieved him of it fast enough. But he felt clingy to Jazz. Perhaps because he was gravid. Has his frame decided he belonged to this mech. Though he shuddered at the thought, Prowl was not strong enough to resist.
“Okay,” Jazz said. “Let’s get outta here.”
Jazz had a nice place. Ricochet was an artistic mech and both his paintings and his sculptures dotted the walls and surfaces, along with instruments Jazz seemed to have collected. Prowl was glad to devest himself of his armour in the washracks. He may audibly have signed when he saw the jacuzzi tub. It was a considerably nicer oil bath than any within the base. He jumped when Jazz touched his hip, noting a spot when the armour had pinched. Of course, Jazz was to blamed for it. The armour had not wanted to close over Prowl’s belly, still very much round with Jazz’s all too virile transfluids. Prowl stood still as Jazz noted other pressure sores. As hot oil filled the tub, the Alpha doctored them. How were they supposed to work together if Jazz felt ownership over him? Would he even be allowed to work with Jazz’s progeny growing in his forge?
“Better get some new armour cut for ya,” Jazz said. “I don’t think ya wanna be pinched all the time.”
“No,” Prowl replied. “I do not… but they will not allow me in office in something… revealing enough to fit me now.”
“Optimus ain’t gonna lose ya ‘n all yer good work ‘cause I got ya in the family way,” Jazz assured him. “There’s armour that’ll give ya some modesty without hurtin’ ya. I’ll sort it out.”
Prowl had largely avoided Omegas as an Alpha, preferring to work through his ruts. That was not to say he had not enjoy a couple as a young mech, Omegas of his progenitors choosing. He had been grateful they had not kindled. Was he more or less grateful now. Rather than a progenitor, he was to be an originator. This protospark, lest it reabsord, would grow into a newspark and emerge. It would emerge through Prowl’s valve. When he thought about it, it was horrifying. Sometimes Omega’s needed c-sections. Would getting it cut out be better than pushing it out his valve? For once Prowl hoped his Omega code would take over and make him feel this was all perfect and natural and joyous.
“Climb in, Prowler,” Jazz told him. He held Prowl’s servo to make sure he did not slip. “I’ll bring ya some ruby tea.”
“Ruby tea?” Prowl asked.
“My Ori’s cure-all,” Jazz explained. “He’ll want to meet ya. If it sticks, I mean. He’d be good for ya, I think. Since he’s carried… ‘n if ya choose to let’m know what happened, he’ll be sure to cut off Lockdown’s helm if I don’t get to’m first.”
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beemochi-art · 1 month ago
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For the Character: twitch 8, thrash 2, nightshade 18, hashtag 20, jawbreaker 21 and slipstream 14.
For the Ship Forte-verse Jazz/prowl D and for the author 🌍
2) First time meeting their best friend
Thrash first time meeting his best friends is when the Malto adopted him. Robby and Mo aren’t just his siblings but his best friends.
HOWEVER! Thrash was ecstatic to meet JB. They are connected to each other through an emotional bond and became friends quickly.
8) First time they took a risk, or the biggest risk they've ever taken
Teaching herself how to fly. None of the autobots fly, Wheeljack tried his best to help her but unfortunately he wasn’t successful at teaching something he doesn’t know. She had to learn herself, and with a lot of practice (and being a bit of an extremist.) she got it.
14) First time facing their fears
Slipstream isn’t necessarily scared of concepts she is instead more scared of certain people. She is afraid of Megatron most of all. She most of the time stayed out of his way. But When Megatron was going to kill Starscream she couldn’t stand by. She shielded Starscream with her body, this decision could have killed her but instead Megatron spared Starscream. She still got hit but at least her dad is alive, though he probably wished he was dead during the beating. Though she faced Megatron she is still scared.
18) First example of real character growth along their journey
(SMALL RANT. I am very upset on the treatment of Nightshade by both the fandom and the writers, l wont start on my issues with the fandom cause those issues aren’t relevant here. I wanted so desperately for Nightshade to be an actual character, and for season one they were but after that it was just over, no more problems, no more contemplating issues. Unfortunately like most Lgbtq characters, they are turned into a place holder, just a box to check on the pandering list. It seems like now nightshade is just the person with the remote that fixes everything, part of the reason why I like Earthspark Expeditions is Nightshades dialogue when you screw up. Nightshade pull no punches on making you feel bad, which is something that happened to me a lot cause I was really bad at those side quests. But even though they weren’t a playable character they still felt like more then a place holder, that bot can be sassy. And I loved it. But alas, it’s probably too much to expect a company to make actual Lgbtq characters like normal character. Regardless I feel like it is important to include lgbtq characters in media)
ANYWAY!! Nightshade came online and was alone, they saw the decepticons destroying everything/ some decepticons seeing Nightshade as vermin and the Autobots fighting back in a brutal way. They recognized that they were a similar species to the cybertronians but renounce they’re ferocity and brutal ways. Nightshade also learn the hard way that humans aren’t that different either. Feeling alone and confused about the world around them, they decided they would just live solitary. Until that option wasn’t available anymore due to the decepticons. Nightshade left with no better option followed Twitch to the Autobot base. Nightshade was stand-offish and sometimes mean. Throughout they’re adventures they learn that the Autobots are here to protect them and may not be right all the time but are trying. Nightshade connected with Bumblebee, they have many similarities. Nightshade also come to sympathies with some cons as well. Nightshade wants gets inspired to want things to change in peaceful way… there has to be a way.
20) First time they felt accepted/welcomed by another character
Hashtag had to be rescued from a M.E.C.H base. Being forced to fight both autobots and decepticons, She was very confused, aggressive and didn’t really know anything. She did know the bots she had an emotional connection with were apart of her in some ways and could be trusted. She didn’t really like humans either, so when Thrash took all the Terrans back to the Malto home she stay around the woods near their home.
It took lots of time but the Terrans as a collective brought her out of her shell and made her feel safe. They told her that technically she was the reason they all were together now. They may have never met if she didn’t call to them.
21) First major change in their life, and how they dealt with it
Jawbreaker leaving the decepticons. He had too. He needed to go find what was calling to him. But that wasn’t the only reason. He knew Megatron is wrong, maybe he was right a long time ago but now it’s wrong. Jb barely understands anything about the War but he has seen people get hurt, he’s been hurt.
Jb took a risk and left without looking back. He mostly keeps to himself about his decision but sometimes struggles with it and wants to go back. He’s not dealing with it too good, but he’s got his siblings to lean on when he needs it. He just hopes those he left behind are doing ok.
D) First kiss
After a couple of dates and Jazz egging Prowl on. Prowl went to kiss him, unfortunately there was more then his nerves getting in the way.
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🌍 - First attempt at worldbuilding, or a notable piece of worldbuilding you're proud of
A personal series I have which has OOTALS AND OOTALS of of world building that I am proud of. I love this story and I’ve had it for years, probably one of the early stories I’ve made. It’s called Wolfram.
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Tf stuff has definitely helped my world building skill.
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nazrigar · 2 months ago
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Transformers Allspark: Megatron's and Codexa's Work Buddies.
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So my AU finally has name: Allspark! A reflection that it's a story about family, generations and the legacies that come with.
This post is focusing on Megatron's and Codexa's work pals.
Megatron is a miner in one of the most productive places for Energon in all of Cybertron, while Codexa is an archivist in the Temple of Primes.
From Megatron's side:
Jazz: Logistics officer. A bundle of fun, and lover of music and culture. He has a rivalry with the killjoy of Soundwave.
Soundwave: Communications officer. The guy who's responsible for everyone commnicating with each other. Lover of excellence, but also thinks Jazz is an annoying sh-t.
Brawn: DA BOSS. He's the manager of this entire unit. Small in size, big in personality, mightier than most bots. Respect his authority.
Blackout: AKA THE BIG GUY. The man who transports Energon in-and-out. A giant of a man with a strong sense of comraderie.
Shockwave: Former senator and scientist, but got empurata'd for reasons unknown. Thankfully his personality is still intact, however he's doomed to be a glorified processor. Suffers constant boredom and annoyance.
Lugnut: Lugnut is Lugnut. Not bright, but acts as security to make sure nobody is thinking of doing anything rowdy. Loves his job.
From Codexa's side:
Mistress of Flame: Speaker of Solus, and the primary teacher of the ways of Solus Prime. Aloof and none-too-personable, but can be inspiring when need be. Her presence on Cybertron is a signal of Caminus' interconnectedness with the home world.
Dai Atlas: Calm, Steadfast, and one of the mightiest warriors to ever live. A lover of peace who makes sure that his temple is a sanctuary for others.
Cyclonus: The professional Unicron's Advocate, a woman with knowledge of all the holy texts and philosophical tenents, and it's her job to poke holes in each, thus ensuring that society never takes one philosophy too seriously.
Star Saber: THE Paladin of Prima, who holds the Compendium of Prima, a holy book that talks about the life (and failings) of the great Paladin of Primes. Wise and powerful, but also witty with a sharp tongue if needed.
Tigraton: Originally a pilgrim who came to the temple to be closer to one of Onyx's relics, decided it was better to stay as an advocate for beast formers everywhere. Deeply spiritual and introspective.
Pyra Magna: Temple Guard, unusually more cynical in comparison to the others. She has seen much, and hasn't done prayers in a long while, but the Custodians of the Temple of Primes are family and she'll do anything to protect them. Anything.
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dododan · 11 months ago
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Thoughts about Alastor after the episode "Hello, Rosie"
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Perhaps first such a small summary for those who haven't read my previous posts about Alastor.
Alastor's deal with someone has worked out. Officially we don't know with whom, but my theory is that it is Lilith.
Alastor is obliged by the contract probably to help/protect Charlie. His intentions are not clear, and he harbours many secrets.
He is not fond of Lucifer. Theories are that he either sees him as a threat to Charlie's hotel and dreams, or he is redirecting negative emotions about his own father and how Lucifer treated Charlie onto him.
Alastor enjoys being in the company of women and probably likes/appreciates Charlie. Perhaps he sees himself as her mentor.
His help, although chaotic and initially incomprehensible seems to be having an effect and actually helping the hotel and Charlie.
Alastor has a weakness for jazz and alcohol, but we don't see him ever drinking alcohol in the series.
His enemy is Vox, but he is more annoyed by Lucifer (probably because he is stronger than him).
Alastor doesn't like to lose or be wrong.
Here you have a link to previous thoughts if you are curious.
Alastor’s true motivations? - Why is he helping Charlie?
Dad beat Dad - Alastor, what the hell are you doing?
Traditionally, there are loads of spoilers here!
From the outset, Alastor seems interested/intrigued by Charlie sitting in the room and spinning another plan. Clearly he saw an opportunity in. Charlie was alone, so he could talk to her in peace. A plan was already forming in his head.
On Instagram, one girl made a fair analysis of Alastor's facial expressions. What expression on his face signifies what emotion. Which proved to be very helpful in understanding him! Here you have ig: @/sasha_draws.bg She did a really great job! But back to Alastor.
When Alastor feels some negative emotion, lines/wrinkles appear under his eyes. Which is true when you pay attention to the previous episodes, but in this 'Hello, Rosie' it is particularly noticeable.
For most of the time in this episode, Alastor seemed concerned to me.
When Alastor was talking to Charlie I had the impression that he was provoking her. He made Charlie painfully aware of how badly her plans had failed, which seems cruel. Initially this could be understood as simply an opportunity to take advantage of Charlie and make a deal, but I think this is just an added benefit. Alastor is bound by his contract to the hotel and Charlie, so he can't leave her. But Alastor has besides made Charlie realise that she can't idly brood on the bed because she doesn't have that luxury. Her friends were waiting for a plan, they were waiting for Charlie.
Charlie gave up at that point, and Alastor made her realise that there was still a chance to make things right somehow. He exasperated her, and showed her that she couldn't give up - in a rather cruel way but still, it's not always kind words or words of support that help you up.
Sometimes the painful realisation of the truth is the best motivator to undertake change.
For a moment, Alastor seemed annoyed that Charlie thought she had him figured out because she smiles all the time. He made her realise that the opposite is true.
A smile can be a weapon on many fronts. You could say that he gave Charlie some cue about his own behaviour. His lecture about smiling shows a lot about him.
Alastor hides a lot - his emotions, motivations or goals. He revealed to Charlie that he himself puts on a mask. The smile gives Alastor a sense of control.
The question is, isn't Alastor also lying to himself in this way?
He is creating himself as a cruel overlord, a person without a conscience who inflicts suffering on others for fun. It makes me wonder if he hasn't started to believe himself in the character he wants to pretend to be?
Nevertheless, no matter how good Alastor's goals may be attributed to him, or that his actions have a good effect on the hotel and Charlie, he still made a deal with her. He was aware that Charlie would not give up her soul to him and would not do anything against herself. Their deal is that Charlie is to help him like friend to friend when he needs it without hurting anyone, and he will give her information. Quite a specific arrangement and very narrow. To me their deal is a bit of a lifeline for Alastor when he finds himself trapped by his own contract.
[As an aside, I've noticed that a lot of people think that the stitches appearing on Alastor's lips are a sign that he can't talk about his deal. I doubt this because of the design of his character. Alastor was shown at many points to be dealing with voodoo or somehow connected to it. This is indicated by the green symbols that appear when he uses his powers, and the stitching that appears on his mouth probably refers to the very design of the voodoo dolls, which also had their mouths stitched in this way. Ironically in my opinion, voodoo is generally good magic, focusing on healing or helping, which doesn't really fit Alastor. Unless one considers the distinction between white and black magic as it is known in New Orleans. But I also point out that I'm not an expert, but I'm just partly familiar with the subject of voodoo and just wanted to show a reference to Alastor's appearance here].
I think Alastor's worry or uncertainty is most evident when he leads Charlie to Rossie. You can see the look on his face and those wrinkles under his eyes. This could be interpreted as:
he's upset that the angels are about to exterminate in the hotel and the only person who can oppose it is preoccupied with his love problems rather than more important matters.
He is upset/worried that he realises he won't be able to help Charlie this time, so he leads her to the only person who is more knowledgeable about love than him: Rossie.
He is nervous because he sees that he might fail if the hotel is destroyed, and that this might somehow breach his contract.
Alastor and Rossie seem to have a very intimate relationship, which was implied in the episode " Scrambled Eggs" when they were at the Overlords meeting. Now we have confirmation that they are very close friends. Rossie can afford a lot in Alastor's company and he allows her to do so. It also seemed to me that when he met Rossie he relaxed a bit, as the wrinkles under his eyes disappeared for a few scenes.
All in all, I'm not surprised that Alastor and Rossie are friends.
Rossie is the opposite of Alastor in a way. She seems transparent in her feelings and genuinely cares about her cannibals. But she also has the strength and power to allow herself to do so. Alastor, on the other hand, plays and hides emotions all the time, and gains power through fear. Despite this, he gets along very well with Rossie, which may mean he's not quite what he makes himself out to be.
I also think that Rossie's words about it being actions that show true nature and feelings may apply to Alastor and his role in season two in the future. But we can already see this now, for example, in the fact that his duet with Lucifer, where Alastor sang that he wanted to replace Charlie's father, ultimately led to a reconciliation between daughter and father which Alastor seemed to be happy with.
We also have it made clear that Alastor is asexual.
Rossie commented that Alastor could learn manners from Charlie. It is possible that what is meant is that when someone annoys Alastor, he does not mince his words. He makes his opinion clear - Susan is a perfect example of this.
Alastor and Rossie really seem close to each other, such as when they look at each other when Charlie panics, or how they dance with each other or their negativity towards Susan. Additionally, Alastor must have had a close business relationship with Rossie since she had an assignment for him and when she said that he never let her down. I got the impression that this gave him considerable satisfaction. Plus it helped the image he wanted to create for Charlie - that he was reliable.
Alastor also seems to put his faith in Charlie after all. Rather than believing in her plan of salvation for sinners, he believes more in the girl's ability to draw crowds and motivate people to action other than through fear or deals. It is hard to say whether he admires this trait of Charlie's, but he certainly appreciates her for it.
Alastor supported Charlie during her song when she had to convince the cannibals to fight - either by giving her the microphone or showing her a thumbs up. I further related that he was slightly worried/nervous, but also pleased after seeing his actions bear fruit.
Alastor also made it clear to Rossie that he valued Charlie and expected nothing less from her than to thrill the crowds. But the important thing is that he referred to her as the Princess of Hell, not Charlie. Alastor has made it clear for the first time that he wants to fulfil Charlie's potential, this shows that despite the faith he has in her, he still only sees her as the Princess of Hell and not Charlie as someone who is more than just a princess.
A break for now, as it's quite late at my place, so expect the rest of the analysis tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow at the furthest.
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 21 days ago
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Harry's in New York for a conference today. Let's pop some prosecco and see what he said.
(but first: why is Jason Kelce on Jeopardy giving clues about Anna Karenina?)
"What happened to my mom and the fact that I was a kid and felt helpless, there comes the inner turmoil. I felt helpless. One of my biggest weaknesses is feeling helpless." (Join the club, buddy (but you're not fam here). But ya know, the rest of us channel our helplessness into positive solutions like volunteering and trying to leave things better than we found them, rather than running around with millionnaires playing polo, suing everyone, deleting evidence, and whining about our brother's boundaries.)
To protect his peace, he doesn't have Google alerts on himself and he doesn't have social media. (HA! in his dreams, maybe. Or maybe James Holt gets the google alerts and he reports it to Harry all briefing-like so he feels important.)
"This claim, the hacking stuff, is almost 15 years old. The coverup of the hacking is relatively new. I think that will be the piece that shocks the world. I scratch my head thinking, 'You know, has this passed?' And certainly that's what they would like to think. In these five years, the retaliation and the intimidation for me as a witness has been extraordinary, especially towards my wife and children." (Is he trying to attach the phone hacking to his RAVEC security lawsuit?)
"It's not a coincidence that the world has become more volatile and more divided since social media has been around for 20 years." (No, the world has always been like this...you're just finally aware of it because you left the royal bubble and they won't let you back in.)
When asked what he thought of the First Amendment, he said to laughter, "There's no way I'm going to talk about that." (Look! You can teach an old dog new tricks!)
"The main goal for me at the moment is being the best husband and the best dad that I can be." (Too bad he doesn't care about being the best person he can be.)
"The thing that means the most to me and the things I want to be known for is that no matter what was happening around [is] that he stuck to his values and he always stayed true to that principle." (Sure, as long as there's a handsome payday attached to it.)
Archived Link
Anyway.
Harry really does like his jazz hands, doesn't he.
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Is this better or worse than the Beyonce jazz hands?
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Man, look at that hair loss.
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honeytonedhottie · 1 year ago
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getting a good nights rest౨ৎ₊ ⊹🍓
the key to getting a good nights rest is by ofc prioritizing SLEEPING EARLY. if ur not getting enough sleep, or the proper amount of sleep that ur body needs to function, then how r u gonna sit here and be like "why am i so tired" or "why is my brain so foggy"
sleeping enough will improve ur skin, ur memory, ur concentration, ur health, ur productivity, ur immune system and literally everything else. try to get at between 7-10 hours of sleep a night.
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putting urself to bed : prep urself for bed in the early evening. by dimming lights, lighting candles. if u find that ur not sleeping enough due to worries that u have i recommend journalling and releasing everything in the journal and then deal with it later. dont let urself sleep in an undesirable state. always go to sleep knowing that u have all ur desires and that ur divinely protected.
take a warm bath
listen to soothing music (i like jazz) or subliminals with soothing rain sounds
stretch
read a book before bed instead of scrolling on ur phone
you deserve healthy and abundant rest and peace <3333
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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 1 year ago
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Part 9 - left its seeds while I was sleeping
“Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence.” -The Sound of Silence by Disturbed
Masterlist Part 8
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It was the lack of air in her lungs that woke Jazz up, gasping for air and fingers desperately trying to find a beating pulse at her neck. 
With a sigh of relief, Jazz rested her palm against the beat, counting as it started to settle into a resting pace again. 
Another nightmare. 
Back in Danny’s memorial Jazz had converted from a maintenance access space, she had slept there one Christmas weekend as she learned her little brother would truly never have a peaceful afterlife. The darkness was an old friend, like a worn blanket from childhood that you would hide under because you believed the monsters wouldn’t get you then- embraced her as she was and sheltered her as she mourned her lost humanity and childhood until there were no more tears to cry. 
Nonetheless, it couldn’t shelter her from the dreams of death, the echo of Danny’s death scream ghostly wail ricocheting in her skull like the worst sort of pinball game she could ever have the misfortune of playing. 
It was no longer Danny’s death or theirs that haunted her with dogged determination, but Jason’s. 
(The same man she found herself missing more with each passing day that she didn’t wake in his arms.)
It was horrifically detailed, the nightmares, because Jazz’s imagination painted with vivid color even in sleep. The details Lady Gotham had shared with her were few and far between, considering she didn’t care for talking about her favorite bird’s murder. 
(Beaten, betrayed… waiting for his dad to reach him in time.)
(Only the darkness would ever know how much Jazz cried for a younger Jason, who only wanted his mother’s love, died for it.)
(It spoke to her own childhood, wanting her parents to love her and care for her.)
(What a pair they were.)
Jazz threw off her blankets and got dressed for the day, hair brushed back into a low ponytail and Bracelets hidden under loose sleeves and a glamor. The metal was cool against her warm skin, a comfortable weight on her forearms as she went about her morning in silence, forcing the nightmare back into a box for her never to think about. 
Danny emerged only a few minutes after Jazz began making breakfast for them, yawning and raking a scarred hand through his messy hair as he tried to wake up. Her little brother was completely healed from his traumatic experience physically, but she worried about him mentally. Though he was much happier compared to when she first dragged him bleeding and screaming to Gotham, which could also be due to the fact that he has a new Haunt and isn’t vilified by the city as Phantom. 
Even if it came at the cost of life, Danny loved being a vigilante.
The signs were there in the little things most of all.
 The pride in his voice when he introduced himself as Phantom, delivered puns and witty one-liners with his wicked sense of humor for all to see, thrived in the sense of duty he wrought in Protecting others, even complete strangers. Danny was a hero, but he didn’t need that distinction to want to help, he only wanted to not be hunted for his spooky nature. 
Jazz would shoulder that burden for him, take up another mantle if it meant giving Danny a chance to be happy with his existence. Ancients only knew how far she would go for him. 
One slash, two, three
Blood is on your hands already. 
Fourth, fifth slash
Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash. 
So what if Jazz had a bond with the darkness? So what if she woke up with no air in her lungs, searching for a pulse? 
There was nothing else for her to fight for, no greater purpose she could find then to be at Danny’s side through the ups and downs. Jazz had already given up so much, both willingly and unknowingly, to take the crown, to be more than a presence on the sidelines- she was more than a Liminal, Jazz was the damn Regent. 
(She ignored the grating reminder of the title being temporary.)
It was only until Jazz watched Danny walk through the door of his school, that it dawned on her what she was feeling….
Jazz was becoming depressed. 
-——-———–
With the subtlety of Jack Fenton barreling through a wall, Jazz threw herself into work- both Vigilante and Regent- to ignore the realization and subsequent horror that she was falling into a deep depression.
And it was largely because of Danny. 
Ancients, Jazz wanted nothing more than to confront these feelings head on, much like she encouraged her little brother too, but she couldn’t even find where to begin. 
She supposed she could find someone to talk to about all this, in a professional manner, but her options were limited. 
Spectra was the only ghost with counseling experience, but Jazz would only be leaving a conversation with her worse than when she began. 
Frostbite would be of little help with something so human, considering he was an ancient ghost Yeti. 
Human. That was it. 
Jazz hadn’t considered a human psychiatrist, since most of her health needs thus far were physical and treated by the Yeti tribe, thanks to her ecto-contamination and proto-core. 
What if she found a human doctor to see? Jazz had no reason to discuss anything  ecto related, only human adjacent, so she could very well find one that suited her and her needs. 
Well, that might be a challenge in Gotham. 
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The Watchtower was host to nearly every possible hero who were to attend Batman’s urgent briefing, many lingering around and questioning what the Bat could’ve had in store for so many of them to be present. 
Robin, Red Hood, and Red Robin were counted among the numbers of those present, though only Red Robin had the fully depth of what they were about to be privy to, having been one of three people to sort through the Ghost Files (as they were dubbed by the Batkids). 
Robin had demanded to be included, citing his prior experience with The Regent in Crime Alley as reason enough. 
(He would not admit that he had been petrified by the vigilante, the death aura freezing him down to his bones.)
Red Hood was there at the request of his younger brother (Tim), Oracle and Batman, though he had yet to understand why. 
“Red Robin, begin the presentation.” Batman ordered gruffly as he entered the large meeting hall, Superman and Wonder Woman at his heels, the other heroes trickling in soon after. 
Red Robin nodded, took a deep breath and started the presentation slideshow. 
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Slide #1: Ghosts, Fenton Family, GIW, Anti-Ecto Acts, The Regent and the Phantom
Despite the absurdity of the first slide, no one felt like laughing. Especially when it is in a meeting with the Batman, the Dark Knight and two (?) of his children. Not to mention the existence of Deadman was well known to the Justice League. 
“Bloody Hell, Bats, took you long enough.” Constantine had no qualms about poking the man in question with a metaphorical stick, but he had fully expected this briefing to happen a week ago. 
“This briefing will be disclosing information granted to us by one of these Ghosts or Ecto-Entities as they are officially classified by the Ghost Investigation Ward or GIW. A serious breach of the Metahuman protection laws has been created and exploited by this government organization, which is responsible for drawing the Human world into the beginnings of an inter dimensional war with the Infinite Realms.” Batman spoke calmly, even if he was holding onto his demeanor by the skin of his teeth. 
(He was livid.)
(A dead child had to beg him not to send him to war.)
(A dead child was a Spirit of Protection.)
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As expected, the heroes present were disgusted by the actions of the GIW, the diabolical Anti-Ecto Acts passed during Luther’s term. 
The worst reactions came during the Fenton Family portion. 
The Ghost Files had included so much info on them, Red Robin had to shorten the list of what he would include in the presentation. 
The first picture was of the members themselves, posing in front of a brick building with a neon sign of ‘Fentonworks’ glaring annoyingly from the background, casting an off shade of pale green over the subjects. 
“The Fenton Family, manufacturers of the weapons sold to the GIW for the express purpose of hunting and capturing ghosts.” Batman began, “The two adults are Madeline and Jack Fenton, ecto-biologists whose prejudiced views on Ecto-Entites seem to be the founding behind the Acts and the GIW.” 
The man in the photo was large, a sturdy frame encased in an orange hazmat suit and bearing a wide grin on his face, with an arm around his wife and children. Madeline Fenton was a slight woman, standing at a possible five foot eight and wearing a hazmat suit like her spouse. 
The children were the next to be spoken of, “The boy is Daniel Fenton, the youngest, and according to the information given, he was killed in a lab accident at fourteen years old.” 
The gasps of horror intermingled with the muttered curses before the Dark Knight silenced them, “Daniel’s older sister, Jasmine, was the primary caregiver for most of his life and after discovering her parents dissecting the town’s protector, a ghost by the name of Phantom, in the same basement lab Daniel died in, Jasmine allowed the Regent to claim their souls so the violence done to Phantom would be avenged.” 
It had been quite the shock for Red Robin and Oracle to read that, both at the evidence of cruelty and inhumane experimentation done to a sentient being (a child who died and protected the town) and the admittance that the Regent killed the humans to avenge Phantom.
It wasn’t until Hood grimly smiled and said, “Good for them.” that something clicked. 
Phantom was killed by the Fentons and avenged by the Regent of the Ghost King. 
(Jason had never been avenged, not like this dead kid.)
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There was one file, a video, that Tim refused to share with anyone. 
The death of Daniel Fenton. 
…and the rebirth.
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Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t an idiot. He was born into a bloodline of brilliance, even if such wasn’t always used for the greater good. He had spent years fixing his parents failed inventions, doing the proper equations to figure out how something could work when in reality it had no business existing. 
(Designed to view a world unseen.)
He’d learned how to fly a jet and build one at fifteen out of sheer desperation, defeated the Ghost King in the same year…. And was almost killed fully by his parents. 
His vivisection scars had healed fully, his removed ribs having regrown, and he could transform without echoes of agony in his chest. 
(They had gotten far too close to his core.)
Point was, Danny knew there was something going on with his sister. She had been less talkative since their escape from Amity, but Jazz had been withdrawn since they took Jason to the Batcave. He had suspected that Jazz missed having someone to care for, considering that was the kind of person she’d been for as long as he could remember, but it didn’t seem quite right. There was something sadder in her eyes. 
Danny turned his focus back down to what he was doing, shoving the concern down to deal with later when he sees Jazz. Usually English was one of the classes he could relax in, considering he could now actually read the assigned books without worrying about ghost attacks eating into his sleep, but today Danny couldn’t focus on the teacher or the lesson. 
He’d had an idea for the ecto-comms, his own creation made from broken Fenton phones. His notebook, which was a mix of notes and half finished designs, was open to the original design of the comms. Danny had to account for Jazz’s helmet when he designed her set, but it was awkward at best to activate it when she needed to talk to him. 
Jazz needed armor to protect her vital organs even if her skin was incredibly durable. He’d seen some idiot unload a clip into Jazz’s back, not a single one had pierced her- that had been when she’d intercepted a smuggling ring from inside and had yet to summon her armor or sword. 
(The creepy head turn Jazz did to face the idiot was the stuff horror movies were made from.) 
(Danny was oddly proud.)
No, the armor was to protect against ghosts. Ecto-blasts would severely injure Jazz despite her liminalality, unlike Danny who could just go intangible or manipulate the ectoplasm in his body around the blast. 
“Did you hear about the Anti-Ecto Acts?” one of his classmates whispered from somewhere behind him, causing Danny to automatic tune his hearing into the conversation. 
“Yeah, that stuff is sick. Phantom is a pretty cool dude, even if he’s dead.” 
“He’s got puns for days, man.” 
“But still, ghosts?” 
“We got aliens, dude and you’re drawing the line at ghosts?” 
“Ugh, fine.” 
“Just read the whole article, man.” 
“It’s the daily planet.” 
“It’s Clark Kent and Lois Lane, dude, it’s worth the gag factor of metropolis.” 
Danny’s pencil snapped in uneven halves in his grip, confusing mix of emotions swirling in his chest. 
Anger-relief-cautious hope 
He’d given the Ghost Files to Batman as his last resort, believing in the hero and for his connection to Lady Gotham to sway him to give it a read through. Jazz had been adamant that if Phantom and the Ghost King was on that list, then she (as the Regent) would be too, though the two of them had argued against labeling Phantom as the Star King for the time being. Danny had grudgingly agreed to keep Phantom labeled as a Spirit of Protection, even if he went behind his sister’s back and gave Batman a list of his powers. 
(Danny still had nightmares of Dan.)
(He lost his parents, but he hadn’t lost his family.) (He had to remember that.) 
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There were few things Jason would consider dear to him. 
His books, kept neat and orderly in his apartment. His vigilante alias, taken from his killer to be a force of change. His grave, as a reminder that he came back. He’d been surprised to see Joker removed from the rogue list, hopeful that it meant he was avenged the clown fucker was finally dead and gone. Dick had held him again when he finally broke down and mourned himself, relief in the fact his killer would never hurt another innocent. 
Never hurt his family again. 
Barbie had framed the autopsy report and given it to her dad, where it proudly rested on his desk as a reminder that the clown was knocked off by a blessed soul and his daughter would never be hurt by him again. 
The alley where his head remained mounted was a protected site in Crime Alley, enforced by both Red Hood and it’s people. A trophy for all of them to appreciate, because while they hadn’t been the ones to end him… they had survived to bare witness to the days free of Joker. 
Harley Quinn was free, the happiest woman in all of Gotham- no, the world! The demon who’d made her in his image so long ago was gone for good and nothing would bring him back. She was free of her ex, her origin story was finally finished. 
Jason counted the fact he was inadvertently avenged as the dearest part of what he was as equal parts man and shambling corpse. He was free of that burden. 
And he had the bone-deep instinct that he knew exactly who to show his appreciation to.
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Part 10
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"I've mended all my ways, repented, seen the light, and made a switch."
The fact that Rollo has a voice line where he genuinely expresses an interest in visiting the Mostro Lounge KILLS me 😂 This fan art in particular makes me laugh a lot!
It's also at this point that I realize I thought the Heartslabyul headcanons with Rollo would be super long (because of there being 5 members in that dorm), but the Savanaclaw and Octavinelle headcanons ended up being even longer...
A Big Octavinelle Welcome to Rollo!
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Rollo's interest was piqued when he first heard about the on-campus eatery that Azul runs. However, he keeps flip-flopping on whether or not he should go. On one hand, he’s curious about what it’s like—but on the other hand, does he really want to give that smug octopus his business??
… Eventually, Rollo gives into the temptation. He settles on an excuse to go while still protecting his ego and guilty conscience: I must survey his cafe to ensure that there are no misdeeds being committed… Who knows what sort of shading things may be happening without a watchful eye and regulations?
He goes through the mirror and emerges in the world wet and full of wonder. Down a corridor with glass walls, Rollo peers at the passing marine life with caution (as if they, too, were in on some scheme). For as peaceful as the bottom of the sea may be, he’s wary of the monsters that also lurk in its depths.
He follows the faint sound of smooth jazz to the lounge. Upon entering, Rollo finds it packed with mob students at every table, stuffing their mouths with food and filling the air with noisy chatter. He reluctantly wades over to the front desk, handkerchief to his face to keep himself strong in this dense den of depravity.
The suited host greets Rollo with a bow and a smile that feels a little too familiar. That immediately sends alarm bells ringing in his head. “Welcome to the Mostro Lounge, Rollo-san. Azul has been anticipating your arrival for quite some time.” (“… Has he now?” How positively shady!)
“We have a table specially reserved for you. Please, right this way.” He follows the host, not letting his eyes wander off his back for one second. To Rollo’s shock, he’s seated and handed a menu without any issues, then is left on his own to peruse. Odd. Given his other experiences at NRC, he was expecting some sort of unnecessary ruckus—
CRASH!! Right on cue, a mob student goes flying across the room and smacks right into a wall. A waiter with a face nearly identical to the host’s is the assailant. “C’mere!!” Floyd says coyly. His grin isn’t quite as coy—it’s maniacal. “I’ll squeeze the rest of the tip right outta you! That’ll teach ya to cheap out on us!”
Floyd advances on the frightened mob student, who is scrambling away on his hands and feet. Rollo blinks and rubs at his eyes, wondering if what he just saw was real or a figment of his imagination.
Jade is suddenly blocking his field of vision, wearing that same suspicious smile again. “Would you care for recommendations?" he asks, gesturing to the menu. "If you'll direct your attention here, this is our limited-time autumn menu. It features an assortment of freshly picked mushrooms..."
Rollo tries to get up or to crane his neck—anything to get a better look at whatever the pandemonium that Jade is trying to conceal is. Alas, the eel follows him like a shadow and expertly blocks all of his attempts (all while reciting the recommendations as he had promised earlier).
“Please keep your eyes on the menu, Rollo-san,” Jade advises patiently. “It will be difficult for you to decide which items you would like if your eyes are wandering to places they shouldn’t be. You must believe me when I say there is nothing of importance in this lounge but your own leisure.” (There’s a light chuckle that accompanies those words, and he doesn’t like it one bit.)
Rollo is forced to browse the menu (and forced to listen to Jade drone on and on about mushrooms). He’s appalled by the absurd pricing on the items (did the devil set them?)—even the simplest ones have huge markups!! But ultimately, he has to concede and opt for the overpriced plain dishes to appease his sensible palate. No indulgent dishes for him, no sir!
Jade doesn’t move until the conflict is settled; when he finally clears away with Rollo’s order for the kitchen, Floyd has finished “cleaning up” after the public nuisance. He casts a nonchalant look around the room and goes, “Hah? What’cha gawking at? Everybody go back to eating unless you wanna be next.”
“… That man just now, what happened to him?” Rollo speaks up—not that he would ever defend the scum of NRC, but he has a thing or two to say about the way the problem was handled. At least air the dirty laundry in private.
“Ehhh, who’s askin’? I don’t have to answer to anyone!” Oh no, Floyd’s eyes have lit up like those of a cat that has spotted new prey. “Hehehe, I know exaaactly who you are! Azul’s special guest guppy…!” (“Everyone and their brother seems to know,” Rollo grumbles.)
He’s unnerved by the way Floyd’s grinning—as though he knows something that Rollo doesn’t—so he quickly drops the question and shoos the eel off. Unfortunately, Floyd keeps returning to his table to annoy him with little disturbances: offering a refill on water (which sloshes all over the table), asking if he wants straws or napkins (then chucking a handful of them at him), calling him by the wrong name (which Rollo makes sure to correct), etc.
… Rollo’s starting to believe Floyd is doing all of this to purposefully annoy him. (He has to resort to taking deep breathing exercises and mutter various peaceful mantras to keep himself from lashing out at the waiter.)
Rollo never thought he’d be thinking this, but the other twin is his savior from the hell that is dealing with Floyd. In comes Jade with his order, which contains many more items than Rollo recalls ordering. Many of them are extravagant and arranged on ornate china platters. “On the house from the manager,” Jade explains, setting the heavy tray down. “I will leave you to enjoy your meal. Come along, Floyd.”
The twins skitter off, leaving Rollo to his own devices. He takes a second to decompress from the stressful encounter with the Leeches—and when Rollo thinks about it, he doesn’t mind the atmosphere of this place. It’s quiet and calming, with a classy yet understated look to the lounge itself and its staff. Maybe it’s not so bad after all.
He places a napkin in his lap before beginning on the feast, taking care to carve everything into more digestible chunks before nibbling at them. Of course, Rollo doesn't plan on gorging himself (there's no way he could finish all of this!), but he doesn't want to be wasteful either. Perhaps a healthy compromise would be to take the rest to-go and eat the leftovers over the course of a week.
As he's in the middle of mentally plotting out his next meals, the entire lounge unexpectedly darkens. Gasps and cries of surprise ring out from the mob students. Then a blinding spotlight appears in the middle of the room, and Rollo almost chokes on his buttered bread roll.
Azul is illuminated by the spotlight. He throws his arms out in a friendly gesture, beaming out to his captive audience. “Gentlemen! It is with great pride and pleasure that we of the Mostro Lounge welcome you to this special evening. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy your meals and conversations set against a calming backdrop of the sea’s melody.”
Their performance begins: Azul on the grand piano, Jade on contrabass, and Floyd on drums. Rollo wants to detest it, but he can’t bring himself to. If he closes his eyes and wills his mind elsewhere, the opening notes envelop him and soothe his weariness, like waves washing away his fatigue and stress.
“I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special guest,” Azul announces, “to our visitor from the City of Flowers, Student Council President of Noble Bell College, and, of course, our dearest friend, Rollo Flamme-san! May the bond between us and our schools be ever stronger.”
His eyes fly wide open. The spotlight drastically swivels, the bright, hot lights suddenly on him. This time, Rollo really does choke on his bread.
He downs what he can of his meal as quickly as he can, wanting to slap some money on the table and to be out before Azul can embarrass him further. That crafty octopus has planned for this though—none of the mob students stop by to give his check, locking Rollo in a social circumstance where he has to stay put (or else be labelled as a dine-and-dasher, a criminal).
He sits there quietly coping and seething for the entirety of the performance. The calm waters the music once provided has suddenly turned scalding. Rollo’s gaze seemingly burns holes in the Octatrio as they finally (FINALLY!) wrap up and bow for their audience.
Azul and the twins then make their way to Rollo. Were it not for the booth itself, there was no doubt in Rollo’s mind that they would be circling him like sharks. Jade and Leech stand on either side of them while Azul clasps Rollo’s shoulders in an overly familiar way (it makes his skin crawl).
Before he get a word out edge-wise or demand for the check, Azul declares, “Our dear Rollo-san just so happens to be Mostro Lounge’s 10,000th customer!! As such, he has won himself a most generous prize: one free consultation with yours truly! A round of applause for him, everyone.”
The applause kicks up, and Rollo’s head is spinning from confusion at Azul’s ludicrous statement. He doesn’t have the luxury of fully processing what it could mean or what his true intentions are—Jade has looped one arm under his, and Floyd has seized the other.
What is the matter with these two?! When I said I was interested in a visit to the on-campus cafe, never did imagine I would be accosted by thuggish men during it!!
“Release me!! Unhand me!!” Rollo roars, flailing his limbs uselessly as the twins drag him off to one of the back rooms. The mob students avert their gazes, pretending as if they don’t see him—they’re unwilling to get involved themselves. “IS THIS HOW NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE OPERATES?!”
Into Azul’s office he’s ushered, seated before the proverbial mob boss himself. Crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together, Azul calls for Jade to fetch tea. Floyd lazily flops onto an adjacent seat and drapes his limbs all over it.
“Rollo-san, it’s been so long! We must catch up before getting down to business,” Azul croons. His voice is disgustingly sweet and slimy, caked on thick. “Tell me, how have you been? How are you finding our fair school? I’m all ears.”
“Don’t act as though we are friendly. Nothing could be further from the truth.” Rollo makes a face, concealing his grimace of disapproval with his handkerchief—Azul spots it and his eyes glimmer with recognition. “I’ve seen through your ruse, you miscreants. I won’t be deceived by the likes of you and your minions.”
“Oh? And what, pray tell, are the misdeeds you suspect on our part?” Azul asks innocently.
Jade places a fresh cup of tea in front of their guest, then Azul. The steam rising from the cups shrouds their faces in a curtain of faint white, obscuring both truth and lies. Floyd is on the edge of his seat, waiting for a good brawl to break out. Jade joins him, matching his deranged grin. (All they’re missing is the popcorn.)
“… I thought it odd that you would be ‘anticipating’ my arrival and that you would go to the trouble of preparing to receive me. Trying to win my favor with free food and a show, it’s clear you were trying to butter me up for something.”
“Me? Butter you up? Never,” Azul insists, but his smile is a little too wide. “I only wish to help you, to deepen the relationship between ourselves and of our respective schools. Networking and making useful—oh, excuse me, I mean deep—connections is important for young adults.”
Azul bows elegantly. “… I offer you my services, Rollo-san. Speak your heart’s desire, and I shall see if I can make it a reality. In return, I expect a favor, should I happen to call upon you. We will also serve as each other’s contacts for our own schools. You see? It is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Rollo instantly sees what he is: the devil looking to make a deal. The twins with their razor sharp teeth, his hellish imps seeking free amusement.
He stands, fists clenched, expression enraged, and lets nasty words torrent out. “You’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m open to negotiating any sort of terms with you. You’d be better off propositioning someone with fewer brain cells. Maybe start with your dopey-eyed classmates before you attempt at seducing something out of me.”
The thing he wished for more than anything else… that was something no one could make a reality. The best he could hope for was some form of retribution—retribution that Rollo sought to bring about with his own hands. He would never be able to live it down if he entrusted his ambitions to someone else, let alone a nefarious mage. Soon, brother. Soon, I will bring about a fairer world in your name—a world without magic, without sin, without suffering…!!
“I understand.” Azul nods, accepting Rollo’s decision, but doesn’t totally back down. He offers a rectangular angluar cut of paper. “My card. If you ever wish to have your woes be heard, you know how to reach me.”
Rollo snatches it out of his hand and crushes it. He storms out without another word, crumpled business card still in his grasp.
“How unfortunate that Rollo-san did not take the bait,” Jade sighs. (“It was funny watching his face twist though,” Floyd cackles, flopping over in his chair.)
“No matter.” Azul says with a shrug. “I foresaw this from the very beginning—which is exactly why we took precautionary measures to ensure that we still earned something from his appearance at all. Isn’t that right, boys?”
They smirked at each other knowingly. Everything had been carefully calculated from the moment Rollo had stepped onto campus. The big show they had put on, the loud declaration to the lounge and its customers… “Our dear Rollo-san just so happens to be Mostro Lounge’s 10,000th customer!! As such, he has won himself a most generous prize: one free consultation with yours truly!” (That had been a convenient lie, made up for the whole publicity stunt.)
All of it was an elaborate pretense for one explicit purpose: to plant a seed of suggestion in the other customers’ heads. A free consultation for the 10,000th customer? Then perhaps they could be the next lucky man to be the 20,000th one. More incentive to return, more lines skewered with tasty bait, cast out into the sea of waiting customers.
“Fufufu, another excellent job well done, if I do say so myself.”
While Azul and the twins are gloating in private, Rollo has made his way to the first fireplace he can find. He furiously casts Azul’s accursed business cards into the flames, relishing the moment it turns entirely black and ashen. No, Rollo swears to himself. He won’t be swayed by the devil. He was made stronger than that.
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