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reidmotif · 2 years ago

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Safe and Sound

Summary: Reader comforts Spencer after she unknowingly does something to trigger some unhappy memories of his.

Prompt: Spencer Reid going through a panic attack because of Cat Adams. He asks Reader to stop calling him "Spencie".

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst (Happy Ending)/Smut/Fluff

Content Warning: descriptions of a mild panic attack, light allusions to Cat Adams/Prison, pre-established relationship, fluffy, loving smut, he's just super passionate and loves Reader, hickies, slight nipple play, female masturbation, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.5k

Spencer Reid felt like a cliche in all the best ways possible. From the way he took you on candlelit dinners on your birthday, to how he always found a way to wrestle a bouquet into your apartment right as the last one he’d given you before began to wither, you’d grown entirely fond of the man you’d met 6 months ago. A man you met possibly in the most horrifically cliche fashion.

You’d ordered a drink at a local coffee house, standing in front of the counter patiently, rocking on the backs of your heels as you waited for your drink to be called out so you could head onto work. Then came him.

He was impossible to not notice. He was out of breath, and his leather satchel moved with him as he made a beeline to the counter you were standing at, long legs carrying him across the room swiftly as he grabbed a drink right as the barista put it down. Your eyes widened as you realized the drink he’d grabbed was actually your own, and you quickly put up your hands to warn the man before-

His face scrunched up adorably as he swallowed the drink, and he looked physically pained, and upon looking at your bewildered expression, he grew sheepish.

“That.. wasn’t my drink was it?” He said, slowly, putting the cup down.

You try to play it off, taking the drink back and biting your lip a little at the antics of the man. “Unless you like straight black coffee, then no. Not your drink.” You say, letting a small laugh escape your lips.

It was only then you got a good look at the man, and it wasn’t hard to not like what was in front of you. He had sweet doe eyes, and a mess of brown curls atop his head. His cheekbones were sharp, and yet there was a quality of softness to him, one that made your chest bloom with attraction and want.

“I can pay for your replacement.” He offered, but you shook your head, offering a sincere smile.

“Don’t even worry about it.” You take a sip from the drink where his lips had already touched and watch a rosy tint encapsulate his cheeks, and you internally smile at the thought that he too, could be attracted to you.

“I actually really have to get going to work, but um-” You thought about how you could prolong your conversation with the man, find a way to look into those gorgeous eyes of his, to feel those plump pink lips against yours, until a name was called out by the barista beside you.

“Spencer Reid?” And the sound of a coffee cup being placed on the counter could be heard.

He grabbed the drink, and you took a second to notice his long, slender fingers grabbing the sleeve of the drink. You felt a blush rise to your face as you realized there was a way you could play the situation.

“Hand me your cup.” You say, grinning a bit and reaching your hand out.

Maybe it was corny. Maybe it was totally childish, but considering how goddamn cute the guy was, you weren’t about to let him go.

He furrowed his brows a bit. “Are you going to drink from it to get me back or something?” He said, tilting his head as he subconsciously moved the drink out of your reach.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, silly. Just trust me.” You say, and the words seem to have a spell on him as he slowly hands you the coffee cup.

You quickly take out a pen you’d been carrying on you and scribble the ten digits of your phone number, signing off with your name and a small heart next to it. You bite your lip as you hand the disposable cup back to him, watching as his confused expression turned to one of curiosity as he read what you’d written.

“I’d love to take you up on that coffee some other time, if that’s alright?" You say, a bit bolder than you normally would have been, but for him? You were willing to embarrass yourself even the slightest bit at the off chance to spend more time with him.

A flush of red spread across his face as he smiled at the cup, then you.

“I’ll call you?” Spencer says, a small grin on his face.

“It’s a date.” You say, mirroring his expression. You check your watch and realize you are beyond late for work at this point. “I really have to go but- I’ll see you around, Spencer!” You say, remembering the name from his coffee cup.

“You too.” He says, and you leave the coffee shop, heart pounding with excitement and the butterflies that came with an act like that.

He wasted no time calling you, actually dialing your number that same day and setting up a place and time for the two of you to meet. First dates were always such a hassle, but Spencer made them so easy. Talking to the man had been the most uncomplicated thing you’d ever done in your life.

You found yourself willingly divulging details of your life as he gave you his. He was an FBI agent. His mother, Diana, was currently at a treatment facility in DC. He says she would like you, and you find yourself falling helplessly for him. He’s earnest and kind. And when he asks you if you’d like to be a more permanent item, you don’t hesitate whatsoever in agreeing.

If dating Spencer Reid was nice, being his girlfriend was even nicer. Moving in with him was possibly the nicest, and in a short amount of time you’d grown used to the domestic bliss and routine living with him provided.

He’d already told you the schedule he was on, in which he’d work a hundred days in the field and then be back in DC to teach a seminary class for thirty days, and you had no problem with it. You were also working full-time, albeit not the insane hours the FBI put him to- but still. You had no trouble coming home to an empty apartment, knowing that soon enough, your boyfriend would be back in your arms.

When he was at home, it was perfect. He’d grade papers on the couch, some documentary droning on in the background. You’d read or use your phone on the opposite side of the couch, occasionally letting your eyes drift to his focused figure. He’d roll his pen between his fingers, sometimes placing it in between his lips as he thought about the next comment to jot down on the paper, or tapping the writing utensil against the side of his cheek with a distant look on his face.

You’d smile to yourself before crawling over, slowly removing the papers from his lap and settling yourself in their place instead. He'd greet you with his hands on your hips, and soon enough, his lips would begin trailing soft kisses along the column of your neck before eventually fucking you right into the couch, having you moan out his name as his perfect cock drove you to your climax.

Needless to say, it was absolutely divine dating Spencer.

Which is why today, things seemed off. He was distant, retreating into himself all day. He shied away from your touch, when normally he’d lean into it. You would generally share some banter in the kitchen, Spencer oftentimes stealing languid kisses from you as you both made dinner, but this time around he seemed sullen, keeping his head down and eyes away from yours as he cooked with you.

You had no idea what had happened.

Things had been normal just a day prior.

You decided to take a little initiative, biting your lips a bit nervously as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms tentatively around his waist, which he responded to by lifting up his arms so you could lean against his back.

“Mm. Something wrong?” You murmur, taking in the scent of his cologne and the feel of his cardigan that he’d occasionally sport around your shared apartment. It was soft, and provided the perfect padding for you to rest your head against as you hugged him from behind.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” He replied, almost curtly. His voice was steady, but the tensing of his shoulders revealed that a lie had been uttered through his lips, and you instantly caught onto it. You may have not been a profiler like he was, but your shared time together had allowed you to find ways to read him, ways that revealed something was truly bothering him in that moment.

“Spence.” You say, hugging him a little tighter. “Come on.” You slowly turn him around, as to get a better look at his face, watching him carefully.

“Did something happen- are.. are you mad at me?” You find yourself asking. It was almost like whiplash, watching your normally sweet and loving boyfriend withdraw like this, and you couldn’t help but worry some part of it was your fault.

He immediately sensed your insecurity and brought his hands to your shoulders rubbing them soothingly.

“Oh, baby.” He said, in a low tone. “Please don’t worry about it like that. It’s just.. work okay?” He says, hesitation in his lips as he said “work”. You narrow your eyes a little and continue to look into his eyes, trying to sense any deceivement on his part.

“Just work? You promise?” You ask, looking up at him. You offered a gentle expression, one that conveyed the enormity of trust and love you’d placed in the man, and hoped the expression was mirrored in him as well.

He nodded and moved to plant a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips. “I promise.”

You return the kiss, smiling softly as you place your forehead against his, looking into his hazel eyes. You felt so safe with him, so comforted, and you genuinely loved him so much for that.

“I love you, Spencie.” You murmur, moving in for another kiss but before your lips can meet his again, he instantly moves you away from him, nearly jumping back and moving himself towards the bedroom, effectively halting the intimate moment you’d been having.

You watched as he went to your shared bedroom, closing the door behind him. Your eyes were wide, unsure what had even just happened. One moment you’d been kissing, and the next he was running away like he was revolted by just the thought of being near you?

You tried to replay the action. You’d said “I love you” before, so that wasn’t it. Spencer wasn’t scared of physical intimacy. He’d shown that as much from how much he enjoyed touching you, having a need to have you close to him in public, always holding onto your hand or waist in enclosed spaces. You bit your lip, trying to regain your thoughts as you realize the only way you’d know what exactly had gone wrong would be to ask Spencer himself. You give yourself a few minutes to pace, before walking slowly to where he’d boarded himself up.

You knock on the door once, your hand already on the knob. “Spencer, I’m coming in.” You don’t hear an answer, and start to feel your pulse speed up. “Spencer? Please? Answer me?”

Still nothing.

In the end, you twist the doorknob, finding your boyfriend curled up on your bed, breathing a little heavier than normal as tear stains streaked his cheeks, and you find yourself instantly heartbroken by the sight.

It no longer matters what was wrong- you just desperately didn’t want him to feel this way. You join him on the bed promptly, your hands going to his hair, trying to soothe him the way he usually liked.

“Spence? Spencer, baby.” You say, softly.

Despite how he’d usually tower over you, right now he looked impossibly small and vulnerable, a look of absolute fear and panic plastered over his face. “Shh. I’m right here, alright?”

He clung onto you, hands abruptly wrapping around your waist as he buried himself into your chest. “I’m sorry.” He said, his voice quiet and small. “I just.” He took a deep breath, and the grip around the fabric of your shirt didn’t let up in the slightest.

You didn’t say anything, only stroking his hair and placing soft kisses on the top of his head. You had no idea what had happened. He had nightmares, yes, but this was different from those. You weren’t sure why this had happened in the first place.

His soft voice broke your thoughts. “Please.. please don’t call me ‘Spencie’ again.” He murmurs, a small sniffle being heard from where he was against you.

You complied straight away, nodding. Things started to click for you when you realized you’d let the nickname slip from your mouth the previous day as a sign of affection. You were quickly realizing the action had the opposite effect. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” You say, looking down at him with concern, even if he wasn’t looking at you. “I won’t, I promise.”

He takes a breath and adjusts himself, wiping his eyes and looking at you now. “I don’t really- talk about these past few years with you.” He says, softly. “And honestly? I still don’t want to.” He admits, his eyes looking downward with shame.

You shook your head as soon as the words were uttered from his mouth. “Spence- you don’t have to. I.. I like you even if you don’t talk about things. I just want to be here for you, yeah?” You say, trying to convey just how much you loved and cared for him. How badly you wanted to make sure he felt just as secure as he made you feel.

He pauses and nods, but sighs. “I don’t want to get into the whole of it- but a few years ago there was this .. woman.” Spencer says, still looking away. “She really, really got into my head and managed to hurt me in more ways than one.” He looks down and tears start to fill his eyes again. “I don’t really know if I’ll ever be the same again. If I’ll ever be good again.” He murmurs.

Your heart instantaneously shatters with his words as you try to pull him close again. “Hey, hey.” You say, cupping his face. “Don’t say that, love.” Your eyes dart, trying to find the words. “You are- one of, if not the bravest, kindest, loveliest men I’ve ever met.”

He smiles weakly at the words but they don’t seem to take root in his heart. “You don’t know half of the things I’ve done.” He says, his eyes filled with sorrow and you shake your head.

“I don’t need to, and I never will.” You say, softly. “I know you, alright? In all the ways that matter.” You pause, not wanting to say the wrong thing but still wanting to convey just how much he meant to you. “If- if this is you after, after every single bad and terrible thing that’s happened to you- God, Spencer.” You smile softly at him, tracing the nape of his neck gently. “You’re so good, okay?” You whisper. “The best.”

He tears up at that, moving to bury himself in your neck this time and you can feel him inhaling your scent, melting into your touch. You hear him whisper again. “The woman.” He mutters. “She used to call me ‘Spencie' to mess with me. That’s why I freaked out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You say, rubbing soft, soothing circles into his back. “She sounds awful, from what you’ve said. I’m sorry I did something that reminded you of her, even if it wasn’t intentional.” You say, kissing the top of his head once more, trying to offer reassurances and love in any small way you could. Anything to make him feel safe.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, and he moves to kiss your lips, softly. “I love you.” He says, his lips brushing against yours.

You kiss him back, finding your hand going to his cheek now, nodding. “I love you too.”

He starts to kiss you a bit more vigorously and you sense his need for intimacy, for something to remind him of how close the two of you are and you respond readily, moving your lips over his as he positions himself in a way that straddles your hips, your body under his now. You want him to feel protected. To feel known, even if he couldn't talk about his past. To tell him that regardless of what he said or didn't- you'd love him. That he was your home and you were his.

He pulls back and attaches to your neck, leaving wet and hot kisses in his wake.

“I love you.” He murmurs against your skin, lips brushing against the sensitive surface of your throat.

“I love you.” He starts to suck softly along your jugular, making you shudder with pleasure.

“I love you.” His tongue traces the outline of the mark he’d made, sure to bruise by tomorrow.

“I love you too.” You breathlessly whimper, as his lips start to trail down lower and lower. He begins to undo your shirt, as to gain more access to your skin and you allow him, shrugging off the fabric as fast as you can. Your hands move to remove your bra and he's on you swiftly, tongue swirling around your nipple in a way that causes your back to arch into him.

You can feel the way he grins when he feels it, and he continues, before moving onto your neglected breast. Your eyes have fluttered shut from the immense pleasure you’re feeling right now, and you relax into how good he makes you feel. How right this is. How safe you both are with each other.

He moves down further, quickly undoing your pants and underwear in a clean swoop, and with little warning he dives into your wet folds, lapping up an embarrassing amount of wetness that had accumulated with so little of his touch.

His tongue eventually begins to flick against your clit, darting to drive you to the precipice of pleasure you’d been feeling throughout this entire tryst. His fingers plunge into you as well, delivering a satisfying stretch that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The combination of his long, slender digits buried inside your heat and the constant prodding of his tongue has you quickly unraveling, your toes curling as you release right on his tongue, which he eagerly drinks in.

When you recover from your orgasm, you watch him, his chin glistening in your arousal, and it is just so fucking hot. You move to return the favor, but he shakes his head.

“I want- I want to feel close to you.” He breathlessly explains. “Can I?”

You understand, quickly lying back so he can reposition himself above you. You watch him undo his belt slowly, pulling his cock out from the confines of his briefs before passing the tip through your wet folds.

“God, you’re so good.” He whispers, and you feel a soft smile grace your face before he pushes into you, slowly filling you, inch by inch.

He moves with purpose, driving into a spot that has you clutching the bedsheets and moaning his name. He whispers sweet nothings as he pounds into you. He treats you like you’re made of glass, like he never wants to lose you, like his life depends on making this as good as possible for you.

You want to do the same for him. You arch your back to take more of him, and he moans at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck- I’m not gonna last.” He pants into the crook of your neck. You can feel his thrusts getting less rhythmic and you knot your hands in his hair, nodding.

“Me neither.” You moan, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching, your eyes screwing shut once more.

He removes himself from your neck and uses his fingers to rub tight, slow circles around your clit and it’s enough to make you tip your head back and climax, the spasms of your cunt being enough to elicit the same reaction from him, his warmth spilling into your deepest point.

He pulls out and kisses you all over. Your face, your neck, your cheek, your lips. It’s as if the sex wasn’t enough, that no action could convey the enormity of his desire and trust when it came to you.

You grab his face as he moves to kiss you one more time, and he looks confused as to why you stopped him, tilting his head.

“I love you, okay?” You whisper, before he can say anything, looking up at him with a loving gaze, losing yourself in his own eyes that shined with the same affection you felt for him.

“I love you too.” He whispers. “I don’t deserve you.” He says, softly. “You make me feel so safe- and wanted and. I don’t know how I can thank you for that.”

“You wanna know a secret?” You murmur, softly.

He nods, and you lean up to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. “You make me feel the exact same way.”

hello!! tried my hand at writing something just a tad more angsty and sad for @tobias-hankel 's whump challenge! hope you guys liked it. thank you so much for all your support whether its likes or reblogs or comments, i'm grateful for all of it!! ty ty ty

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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goddamnitmahtin · 1 month ago

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Jason is a Teenage Dad Part 6

(wrote a portion of this in the hospital so please excuse any errors)

Stephanie had no memory of ever giving birth. But now that she had her baby in her arms, it didn’t really matter what she remembered. Her little Kore was in the world. And she was going to be loved. No matter what.

When Steph first got pregnant, she was terrified. She was in no position to have or raise a child. She was a vigilante and orphan. Her boyfriend left her after finding out, not wanting anything to do with it or her. While she fantasized about keeping her baby, she knew deep down that there was no way that she could provide what was needed. She just had to hope that when she did give birth, the foster care system would treat her baby with the kindness she didn’t get herself.

That was until Clockwork started sending her notes. It was weird at first, the idea of these little sticky notes appearing were actually notes that would help her. Like they were suggestions she should really listen to. But after the notes started telling her to just drop everything and move in with Bruce? She came around to the idea of listening to Clockwork more. Especially because moving in with Bruce was an objectively good idea and she was mad that she hadn’t thought of it herself.

After moving in, Stephanie worked with Bruce so she could become his ward. And after that, she started learning how to live in a safe environment. Tim was super supportive and was there for her every step of the way. Bruce and Alfred always provided her with whatever she needed, never making her feel bad for it. Jason and Danny were oddballs but watching them be a father and son made her feel hope.

The other characters that were in and out of the mansion were just as chaotic and interesting as the full time residents. Jazz had practically moved in but wasn’t there every night. She was very close with Jason and the two of them were raising Danny together. There was something between them but Stephanie couldn’t put her finger on it. No matter how many times she asked, both of them were adamant about not being attracted to one another.

On a similar vein, there were Sam and Tucker who were delightfully insufferable. Stephanie and the rest of the household had been watching them dance around one another for years now. They were always catching glimpses of each other, they knew everything about one another, they lived together, they were constantly gushing about each other when the other wasn’t around and and don’t even get started on the way they looked at each other. It was so surreal and beautiful how much love they had in their eyes when they looked at one another. Complete and utter trust. After getting pregnant, Stephanie had actually started crying if she caught them staring at each other because goddamn it why could she have someone look at her like that? But if you asked Sam and Tucker? They were “just friends.” Ugh they needed to kiss already.

After seeing what it could be like to live safely in a good home with a family, Stephanie started to wonder if maybe… just maybe she could be a good mom after all. If she ever needed tips, she could come to Jason or Jazz. She could make sure that Bruce gave her baby everything they could ever possibly need and the family was full of crime fighters. Of course any one in the house could throw hands to keep the baby safe. She could give her child the same wildly unique and amazing childhood Danny was getting in the manor. She just had to stay.

So now, holding her baby girl? She knew she wanted to at least try. She wanted to try to be a mom. She named her daughter Kore like the goddess of spring. Little Kore looked just like Stephanie, even as a newborn. Her complexion, hair, eyes and even her nose was all Stephanie’s. It was like holding her own carbon copy. The more she looked at the baby in her arms, the more determined Stephanie became to be the best mom she could be.

She looked up from her daughter’s sleeping face when she heard a knock on the door. It was probably Tim. He had been hovering over her and Kore since she gave birth with a worried look on his face. She had just barely convinced him to leave the room by telling him she would tell Tucker to erase his computer data if he didn’t.

Steph sighed hearing the knock, “Timothy I swear to-”

The door opened and a face Stephanie hadn’t seen in a long time greeted her, “Hey.”

“RICHARD YOU BASTARD!”

…

Dick liked to think he was a good person. He was Nightwing after all and before that he was Robin. He saved people and sometimes saved the whole world in the process. But… that was all he could really defend himself for. Being a vigilante? He knew how to do that. He knew how to follow orders when needed and keep his team safe.

But that was all he knew how to do. After giving up the title of Robin, Dick shut himself out. He wanted to distance himself from Batman and become his own person. He moved to Bludhaven and had his own rogue gallery. He had his team and had a couple of girlfriends over time. He made himself his own life. It was what he wanted.

At least at the time. In the process of pushing away from Batman, he had pushed himself away from Bruce. He kept his distance from the Robins that came after him. He never even met Tim. He barely stayed in touch with the other bats that Bruce had found time to adopt. Whenever the man tried to reach out, Dick would shut it down unless it was work related. He was too busy with his own life. Too busy for his own family. Too busy to even meet them.

The only bat that Dick saw often was Stephanie. She was just a kid but she was unbearably persistent when she wanted something. And she had come all the way to Bludhaven just to judge him. Dick could still remember that day and still had the scar to show for it. He had been on patrol when a very pissed off Spoiler had whacked him across the face with a public park trashcan. It had given him a cut and since then, he’s had a scar leaving a slit on his left eyebrow. Since then, she had forced him to hang out with her whenever she was in Bludhaven and she had his phone number for emergencies. She had become his only contact to his family.

Dick never realized just how isolated he was. Of course, he was always isolated when he was living with Bruce. He was the only kid in the house at the time. There was also Clark who semi lived with them at the time because they had decided to coparent for a while for the fun of it? Dick never really go the full story there. But now he was isolated for real. He had done it to himself. He had no friends or even exes outside of work and other than Stephanie, he had no idea what his family was doing or who was even in it. He was alone most of the time and somewhere along the way… he must have forgot that he was allowed to have people in his life.

Then one day Stephanie called him crying, telling him she was pregnant and her boyfriend left her. She was only 15 and Dick knew she must have been scared. But at the time there was nothing he could really do. He was about to go away for a mission and was going to be gone for months. He and JLD were going to another dimension to discuss enforcing reforms to try and get rid of the Anti Ecto Acts. The Ghost King had invited them all to his fortress to make it the center of the operation but time worked differently between dimensions so Dick couldn’t be sure when he was going to be back.

Dick asked her if she had anyone she could reach out to because he was leaving and she said she was gonna try and call Tim. It must have worked out. At least he hoped it did. He was in the Ghost Zone not even 3 hours later, working with King Danny of the Infinite Realms to try and come up with an airtight case to bring to court.

Dick liked to think he was a good person. But it was hard to do that when all he saw was his own cowardice. He wasn’t brave enough to reach out to Bruce anymore out of fear that all of his anger towards the man had made him unlovable. He wasn’t too scared to meet his siblings out of fear that they were better than he ever was at being good people. He was scared to apologize for how he left. And despite how lonely Bludhaven was, he was afraid to go back home to the manor out of fear that only Alfred would be happy to see him.

But despite his fear, or maybe because of his healthy fear of Stephanie, he was there in the manor. He was standing in front of his honorary sister, his entire being frozen in terror of what she might say to him for not making it on time.

“RICHARD YOU BASTARD!”

He flinched slightly. He deserved that.

“Steph… I’m so sor-” Dick was cut off.

“YOU’RE HERE!” Stephanie was sobbing, waking the baby in her arms. She reached out for him and he walked to her bedside taking her hand.

“It’s good to see you too Blondie,” he said giving her a smile.

“You’re back! I thought you said you wouldn’t make it!” Stephanie squeezed his hand, tears rolling down her cheeks and a smile on her face.

“I just got back from Phantom’s realm. I saw your text and rushed here as soon as I could. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” Dick apologized, feeling guilty. She was the only family member he had left and he couldn’t even be there when she was giving birth.

Stephanie sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes, “It’s okay Dick. Here, do you want to meet your niece?”

She lifted the baby to Dick for him to hold. He took the infant into his arms. It looked just like Stephanie. Like a little clone. The cutest baby he ever saw. The baby had the longest eyelashes on a child he had ever seen and those big blue eyes were hard to miss as they studied him.

“Her name is Kore,” Stephanie smiled the biggest, most love filled smile Dick had ever seen her features produce. She was going to be an excellent mother.

“Hello there little Kore. Your mother named you well. You truely are a little goddess aren’t you?” Dick cooed at the baby. His finger got caught in her grip in response.

“Look at Uncle Dick being all good with babies,” Stephanie teased, a weighted smile on her lips. She was thinking about something.

Dick sighed. He knew what was coming. And she wasn’t going to like his answer.

“Are you going to stay? For a while?” Steph asked.

Dick shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t wanna be a burden and cause trouble with Bruce.” He needed to go back to Bludhaven anyways to go back to being Nightwing. There were others helping while he was gone but he couldn’t abandon his rogue gallery. But the biggest reason was that he was too afraid to patch things up with B.

Stephanie shot him a scary glare, “Richard Grayson, you have been pushing everyone in this family away for so long, you have yet to meet any of them outside of the suit. You don’t know any of our names except mine and you have yet to even let me tell you what’s going on! There are so many of us now and you won’t give any of them a chance. At least stay the night. You don’t wanna know what I’ll do to you if your don’t.”

Dick was the proper amount of scared of Stephanie on a normal day. But hormonal, just had a baby Stephanie was much scarier and Dick liked being alive.

“Fine. But I’m not staying for breakfast.”

“Yes you are.”

“Okay I’m staying for breakfast.”

…

Jason didn’t really know what to do. Ever since Stephanie had her baby, things changed in the household and it wasn’t like major changes hadn’t happened before but it had been a while since Dick had bothered to stick around. Let alone start staying in the manor again. Nobody really knew what to do with that. Most of them had never met him before and those who had only knew him in a professional capacity and had no idea he was actually Bruce’s oldest son.

Apparently Dick and Stephanie were close so he was sticking around as long as she threatened him to. The main issue? The fighting. Danny did not like the fighting between Dick and Bruce. What made is worse was that no one in the household could really avoid it. Everytime Bruce and Dick ended up in the same room for too long, Dick would get set off by something Bruce said and a screaming match would start and before long Dick would dramatically throw himself out a window.

Now Jason would have exactly cared about whatever personal drama was between Dick and Bruce if it wasn’t causing Danny to start to regress. The nightmares were picking up again at night, causing him and Jazz to have to take turns keeping watch just so they had sometime to sleep at night.

Danny was also starting to show some violent tendencies. Specifically towards clowns. Which was the main reason Jason was stressing out. It was never confirmed just how the Joker died. For a long time, they all just accepted that and tried not to think about his death at all. That bastard didn’t deserve to be mourned anyways. But now that Danny seemed to be enraged by the very mention of clowns and the family had to stop him from fighting anything even generally clown shaped… Jason was starting to worry that maybe… Danny had done something no child should have ever had to do. Especially as a three year old at the time.

Now was one of those moments that Jason was especially worried. Dick and Bruce were fighting in the kitchen again and Danny had disappeared from stress. He had already looked in all the usual places for him. His room, his grave, Tucker and Sam’s house. But it wasn’t until Jason went to the Batcave that he found his son. He was shooting printed out pictures of clowns with an ecto blaster.

“Hey bud, what are doing,” Jason asked, sitting next to Danny on the old couch they kept down there for naps during patrol.

“I’m killing clowns.” Danny said this with a flat voice, no emotion in his words.

“Ah. Can I ask…. why?” Maybe if Jason could talk to him about it, he could get some answers. He loved his son but this behavior came out of nowhere and it was concerning. He had already spoken to Jazz about it and she said that Danny never liked clowns but it was never this extreme.

“Clowns are evil. Like doctors,” Danny said matter of factly as he blew the head off a mother cutout clown.

“Ah. I see. Why are clowns evil my star?”

Danny look up at Jason, his eyes glowing green with fury, “Clowns kill people. This one killed you with a crowbar,” he pointed to a cutout of Joker, “he’s dead now. His head is gone.” Danny then shot the head off the Joker cutout.

Jason’s eyes widened. He didn’t know that Danny even remembered that. Or how Danny even found out about Joker’s crime activity. He was so young at the time Jason found him holding that head, he just assumed his brain was too young to recall it.

“Uh yeah… he did do that.” He had no idea how to proceed from here. Jason felt his core pulse with nervous energy.

“When is Dick moving out?” Danny asked suddenly.

Jason was thrown off by the question, “I don’t know. Stephanie doesn’t seem to be letting him leave. Do you not like Dickie?”

Danny shook his head, “No. He’s like a clown. Except he isn’t evil. Just loud.”

Jason could only think that maybe that comment had to do with Dick’s family being from the circus. He couldn’t really think of any other way he was like a clown. Other than his love for being flashy.

“I see….” He was definitely in over his head as a father right now.

…

Tim loved being Robin. It was totally badass. He loved fighting bad guys and stopping robberies and saving people. But what he loved more? The puzzles. The mysteries. He liked that he could feel challenged. School was lame and boring. He did all his homework months ago. And since he was gonna graduate in a couple years, he was on his way to joining the work force if he didn’t want to go to college. Which he was thinking about it. But despite everything…. Tim was bored.

More often than not, he found himself twiddling his thumbs when he wasn’t being Robin. He needed something to do. So Tim started doing B’s paperwork for WE when he wasn’t looking. The guy was busy with patrols, grandkids and screaming at Dick to let him pay for stuff that he never even really noticed. It not like it was anything Tim hadn't hyperfixated on before. Just some budget reports, employee contracts, approval requests from the engineering department.

Tim didn’t like not being noticed or ignored. Years ago, he would have been used to it. Ducking around corners, sticking to the shadows, standing still enough that his mom could walk by and not see him. But ever since Bruce adopted him, he was always treated like he was actually there. By everyone.

Ever since the very start, Bruce had put energy into making sure Tim knew that he was wanted. And at first, Tim didn’t really know what to do with that. But as time went on, he started to understand that he did deserve attention. He deserved to be listened to. Bruce always took him seriously and everyone else in the house always talked to him when they saw him. He wasn’t used to being ignored anymore.

So when Bruce started noticing him less… Tim kinda started retreating into himself. He knew that there was a lot on B’s mind. And he knew that Bruce would make up for it. But something inside Tim clicks when he’s being overlooked and he can’t really control it. His brain snaps back into his old ways. The way he was before he was adopted. Before his parents died.

Tim had buried himself into a new project. He told himself that he was just doing B a favor. But in the back of his mind he knew that it was just a really desperate attempt to lash out and hope that Bruce noticed what he was doing. He could do this in a much simpler way but Tim wasn't one for physically violent outbursts. So instead of throwing a tantrum, Tim was signing Wayne Enterprises over to himself and was making himself the new CEO.

Tim was finishing up the contract now. He had learned how to forge Bruce's signature long before he was ever adopted by the man so this was pretty much child's play. Maybe now that he was important for the company, B would talk to him more. Everyone had their thing after all. Dick was a menace who wouldn't let Bruce pay for anything and sleeps in the chandeliers, Jason was a dad and also he died that one time, Babs was super smart and they had history of B avenging her or something, Steph was a brand new mother who was learning the ropes and an amazing human being overall, Cass was badass and did ballet, Sam was the Manson family heir and a great contact to have in high society, Tucker was a computer god who could and has helped Babs rebuild the Bat computer a few times for fun, Jazz was an amazing therapist that Bruce could turn to whenever he wanted, and Danny was literally half dead. Everyone in the family had their thing that made Bruce want to give them attention. Tim was Robin, sure, but that was completely professional attention. Not father attention. Tim didn't really have a thing. Maybe WE could be Tim's thing.

Once he finished up the contract and forged Bruce's signature at the bottom, Tim sent it to the company file. It was done. There was no need to mess with bank accounts of transfer where funds were going. Tim's salary as CEO could still go to Bruce for all he cared. He already had an account of his own that had money automatically added to it every month. Bruce had one set up for everyone in the family, in a desperate attempt to get rid of some of his money. Not to mention Tim was going to inherit his family's entire estate when he turned 18.

Almost immediately, Tim got text messages from both Babs and Tucker, questioning what just happened. He didn't respond. He didn't feel like it. Instead, Tim got up from his computer and went through his closet looking for something to wear to work tomorrow. It wasn't like Bruce would notice he wasn't going to be at home during the day anymore. And it wasn't like Bruce ever actually went to WE except for board meetings. Tim may have been young but he could handle a company better than he could handle himself at home so there was really no downside.

About a week passed before Tim was cornered by Bruce.

"Tim, have you been running WE as CEO without my knowledge," he asked, his voice stern and his brows furrowed in some expression that Tim didn't really know how to read. Was it anger? Was it stress? Who was to say.

All Tim could do was shrug to that. So what if he stole B's company? In the week he had been running it, profits were already skyrocketing. Which was ironic since all Tim did was increase the salary of the employees and updated their benefits.

"Tim, your 15. I just don't think that you should be worried about all of that-"

Tim cut him off, "No offense B, but I've been doing just fine. I needed something to do so I found something to occupy myself with. Besides, it's not like you had time for it. Or me."

Tim could feel his insides shriveling with guilt as he mentioned feeling neglected. He had no real good reason to feel that way. Bruce always tried his best and Tim knew that. This entire thing was completely irrational.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Tim couldn't bring himself to meet Bruce's eyes so he kept his own on the ground.

"Tim, I didn't know that you felt that way," he heard B say. He felt ashamed that he felt that way at all. He never really had a plan as for what to do when B found out that he had taken WE but he did know that he wasn't expecting it to go like this.

"It's fine... you have other things to worry about," Tim mumbled. He went too far. Maybe he should apologize.

"I'm sorry for not being there for you as much as I should be. I shouldn't have sidelined you, no matter what was going on," Bruce pulled Tim into a hug. It was an awkward hug but it was a hug at least. And it was unexpected enough to make Tim break down.

Part 5

#dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #batfam #danny fenton #dad jason #dead joker #jason is a teenage dad #richard grayson #mom steph

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luneemeritus · 8 months ago

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Angel Dust love/appreciation post

With all the horrendous negativity sorrounding Angel Dust these days, I decided to make a post dedicated to love and appreciate him. It's 2024 and we still need to defend victims. It's like we moved backwards, specially considering that most individuals that hate Angel for... some reason? Call themselfs progressists. Lmao. What a sick joke. But let's foccus on what's good: Angel.

• Angel was willing to have sex with Alastor only to help Charlie. He doesnt like Alastor, he thinks Al is creepy and untrustworthy, and if he filmed himself having sex with Al, he would piss off Valentino (doing work "without his permission" to help someone Val heavily dislikes, after all, Charlie is helping him). So Angel was putting himself in danger and willing to fuck the stinky deer bastard just to help Charlie. HE LOVES HER SO MUCH, I CANT.

• Angel is so protective. He is so brave, he tried everything he could to keep Charlie away from Val, even yelling at her because her safety is more important for him. He grabbed Niffty like a baby to protect her from the loansharkers that were chasing Mimzy, he took the knife out of Niffty's hand, he stood up against Val to defend Niffty, and, unlike Charlie, she wasnt very close to him. But he just cares so much about his friends. It's so beautiful.

• The whole scene when Angel tells Val to fuck off. Just this. It's so fucking satisfying to see Angel being so strong and brave. Of course he will need help eventually, no one can be strong forever, but still. I'm so proud of him.

• Angel rejects Cherri's offer (drug) without shaming her or considering her less of a friend. He still loves her, supports her and is always there for her no matter what ❤️

• He didnt only stayed in the Hotel even after knowing Adam would target them first, he was also so invested in fighting back and protecting the Hotel. What a good boy 🥹

• When Vaggie throw him along with Pentious, he didnt ran away nor left Pentious to die alone (considering how both him and Vaggie were not trusting him), he fought back, protected Pentious and supported him after they were safe. And keep in mind that Pentious was both working for the Vees AND slutshamed Angel. But Angel didnt hold grudge (honestly he's better than me, my petty ass would be 100% pettier)

• The simple fact that Angel opened up to Husk was an act of strenght. This was so hard for him. The facade "helped" him to stay "untouched" and "safe" from humiliation, but it only made him self destruct. Letting go of that facade and ADMITING that he needs help is so, so hard. But he did it. Angel I love you

• The way he was so heartbroken by Pentious's death ��💔 "you did good, buddy" HEEELLPPP

• His protectiveness is beyond his friends, he saved the little egg boy in the cuntiest way possible, he's so fucking kind and brave, HE SLAYED.... (literally)

• As some people love to point Angel's past in the mafia (I mean, their ASSUMPTIONS on what Angel's mafia past was lol) to prove that "he is such a terrible person", I'd love to point out how he's terrified and disgusted by cruelty (Alastor's, Val's, Adam's) and only uses to violence when he needs to defend himself. From the men that wanted to drug and assault him in EP4, defending their territorry from Pentious in the pilot, defending the Hotel from literally every danger, from the mob that wanted to kill him in that very old pre-pilot comic. In conclusion, he is not a cruel person.

• And still speaking of that topic: he can handle himself. And that's fantastic. Every single time he used a gun, he ate 💅

• CHARLIE GRABBED HIS HAND IN THE FINALE 😭😭😭 it's so beautiful I love theeeemmm

• And of course, he stopped acting inapropriately towards Husk because he understood what he was doing is wrong. His haters are unable to see how much Angel improves himself, but it's not easy to let go of a problematic behaviour when called out. Angel I love you so much

• The way he was chasing Fat Nuggets when the Hotel was destroyed 🥺🥺🥺 such a wonderful pet dad ❤️

• There are different interpretations for Angel's reaction when Husk tells him "I guess you have changed", but I just love how he doesnt take pride or talks about himself, because that was not his priority. He wanted to foccus on living, helping and supporting his friends, spending his time wisely with people he cared about. I love you Angel

• Angel is unapologetically feminine, sensual, free and queer. This is awesome. He would be the best freak at Pride Parades. Be like Angel, be unapologetically yourself, live freely.

Now just look at cute pictures of this patootie

He's so pretty. I love him. Thanks for reading. Live laugh love Angel Dust

#angel dust #hazbin hotel #we shall never tolerate angie slander #huskerdust #husk you're so lucky #take good care of this boy #please #vivziepop #tw: abuse #tw: valentino

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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 27 days ago

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Joel Miller x F!Reader

Title: Dreams of Her PART 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warning(s): NONE

Character(s): Joel Miller, Female x Reader, Tommy Miller, etc.

Memories are italicized!

MY WORK IS NOT TO BE SHARED, TRANSLATED, OR POSTED TO OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS. ©️

When it was winter time in Wyoming, it seemed that even time itself had frozen. The days were long, but the nights were even longer, especially when traveling on horseback. Th early dawn hours of the morning were still dark, and bitterly cold; something Joel has had to adapt to. Joel shuffled through his house, making sure he had everything he needed to make the journey to wherever the hell they were going.

The old wood floors creaked beneath his feet as he made his way to Ellie’s room. He opened the door slowly, trying not to wake her up. She was wrapped up like a cocoon and soft snores fell from her lips, a book of jokes nestled underneath her chin. Joel couldn’t help but to smile as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

With a sigh, he picked up all of his gear, and trudged through the freshly fallen snow. Some of his neighbors were already up, walking to do their respective chores for that morning. And other’s were going to bed from the long night of watching.

At a distance, Joel could the faint outline of an old kerosene lamp near the stall door entrance. Tommy was already there saddling up his and Joel’s horses. Maria stood at the entrance ready to greet Joel, “Bitterly cold morning, huh?” She greeted and he nodded.

“Sure is.” He replied and a look of worry had taken over her facial expression. Joel patted her shoulder, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he gets home safely. Try to keep Ellie here and busy. As long as she’s busy, she won’t pay mind to me being gone.” He said as he clutched the strap of his bag. Maria pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek and left the two men alone in the horse stalls.

Tommy was silent as he checked his gun for bullets, and Joel walked over to his horse and tied his bag to the back of the saddle. “How far south are we goin’?” Joel asked and Tommy pulled out a map. “Thirty miles. If we keep a good pace going, it’ll be about a day’s travel. I don’t know what we’re going to find up there Joel, but promise me, we do this my way. Whoever is up there and whatever these people have done, we talk until we can’t talk anymore.”

Joel knew what his brother meant. Don’t lose control. Don’t go in with guns a blazin’. Don’t kill until it’s absolutely necessary. With a nod of agreement, Tommy clapped his brother’s shoulder, “Let’s get goin’.” Joel always patted his horse to show that he trusted it. “That one is a wild one. Definitely free spirited. Took us a damn long while to tame her.” Tommy said and Joel got a good look of the horse.

He instantly knew the breed of the horse; it was a Kiger Mustang. The only reason he knew, was because of that movie you introduced Sarah and Joel to— Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. When he climbed up on the horse, Tommy tapped his horses flank with the heel of his boot, making the horse gallop to the entrance of Jackson. The big gates opened up and Joel’s horse went from a slow pace to a fast gallop; the cool air bit at Joel’s face.

A week before his birthday of 2003– a week before outbreak, you had rented the movie. The movie’s end credits played across the screen, as the song “Here I Am” by Bryan Adam’s filled the living room. Sarah was fast asleep on Joel’s left side, her head on the arm of the couch. You looked up at Joel and he had a tear running down his cheek, “Aw, Joel, are you crying?” You teased and he quickly wiped the tear away. “No! I just— I got something in my eye.” He said and you hugged his side.

“I think men should cry more often.” You said in a matter-of-factly tone.

“Why is that?” He asked and you smiled up at him. “Because it’s a healthy way to process your emotions.”

Joel chuckled at your response, and you leaned your head on his shoulder. “If I had the choice to reincarnate into something else after I die, I’d want to come back as a horse.” He rested his face on your head, “How come?” He asked you looked up thoughtfully.

“Can you imagine living freely in the mountains? Imagine running in fields, through the warm breeze with not a care in the world, just living and breathing. Wild and free.” You said and Joel pressed a kiss to your hair. “Yeah, that does sound nice.” He mumbled into your hair, and you looked up at him through your lashes. Joel leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to your lips, “I have a big birthday surprise for you.” You blurted out and he smiled.

“Well, what is it?” He asked and you shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t tell you yet, but soon. Promise. But I can tell you that you’re gonna have to like it no matter what. We can’t return it.” You said and Joel raised an eyebrow. “What is it? A picture? Please don’t tell me it’s a dog.” He groaned and you shook your head. “All you need to know, is that it’s a part of me.”

Joel leaned back on the couch, he had assumed you were going to surprise him in the bedroom. “Anything that has to do with you, will be appreciated.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and walked into the kitchen.

The giant doors had closed behind Tommy and Joel, and they both slowed their horses to a walking pace. “It’s always a rush when the horses first take off.” Tommy said with a grin; his cheeks were already red from the cold. Joel’s heart raced inside of him, and the cold journey had begun.

After a few stops to eat and rest, they were on the outskirts of the small town the colony men were suppose to be checking out. Dusk was settling across the sky, and Joel pulled out his binoculars to see any signs of life in the town. They were perched on a hill that was covered by tree lines and shrubbery; it was a good spot to remain undetected. “It would be best if we waited until dawn. Because it’s hard to tell what or who’s hidin’ down there.” Joel stated as he passed his brother the binoculars.

Tommy looked down at the dead town, “You’re probably right. I’ll take first watch, you rest.” He said and Joel didn’t argue with him. Joel trusted his brother, even though in the past it was hard to trust him due to his impulsive decision making.

When it was his turn to take watch, Joel fixated his attention to the town. He gripped his rifle in his hand, ready to be used at a moments notice. When the first crack of dawn took place in the sky, he woke up Tommy, and the two ate in silence, both afraid of what they were going to find. Infected? Cannibals? A group of psychos?

Joel wiped his hands on his jeans, “See that tall buildin’? I think if we can get to that, and get to the roof, we can get a better look at what’s goin’ on.”

Tommy agreed, and they both put their horses into the small barn to protect them from the weather and possible predators. Joel had taken the lead, grateful for the scattered trees shielding them from being seen. The town seemed small from the hill, but once they reached the inner part of town they realized it was bigger. Not a single infected was in sight, but there were six bodies scattered on the ground a block or so away from the building they were headed to. Joel pushed one of the men’s bodies with his foot, “Are these our guys?” He asked and Tommy shook his head.

“No. But do you see a similarity?” Tommy asked and Joel looked around, “They’re all dead?”

‘They were all shot in the head. Sniper maybe.” Tommy scanned the building around them, “It looks like a distance shooter. Come on.”

The two men walked quickly and stayed low, sunlight started shining through broken windows, and the branches of the trees. The silence was deafening, and when they reached the building it said ‘TOWN HALL’. Tommy held his hand up to Joel as he slowly opened the door. The door creaked and Tommy went in first, quickly checking the first floor. Joel followed in after Tommy waved him in; the building was still relatively clean, other than the peeled wall paper, and the yellowed tile floors.

Floor by floor, they cleared them, and not a single soul was found. They went through the exit door that led to the top of the building, and Joel slung his rifle onto his back. Tommy’s arms fell to his sides, “I was sure our men came to this town specifically. See, there’s the pharmacy they were talking about.” He pointed at the building with a pill bottle logo, but Joel’s attention was fixated on the ground. “What?” Tommy asked as he walked over to Joel’s side.

“Bullets.” Joel said as he knelt down looking at the boxes of bullets. “These are bullets for high-precision rifles. Whoever shot those guys, shot them from here. And this is where they regularly camp out.” Tommy replied holding up the boxes.

Joel walked to the other side of the roof where the entrance to the building was, and found a military bag on the ground. Before Joel could say anything, his face was met with the end of a gun handle. His vision started to blur and he could hear Tommy struggling, but he couldn’t make his body get up.

When Joel had come to, he watched the person stand at an old counter top; from what he could see, they were wearing military boots, with army cargo pants; when he looked up higher he seen the back of a woman’s head.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to relieve the dizziness in his head. Shit! Tommy! He thought as he quickly sat up, but the commando’s boot was on his chest, and a flash light pointed down at his face. He heard their gun cock, “Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” The woman’s voice said in a steady, unwavering tone.

“Where’s my brother?” Joel questioned, and the woman— the girl’s?— foot pressed harder into his chest, “I asked you a question. Who are you and why are you here.” He removed his hands from his face, and the light moved past their face. All Joel could see was little black dots, and when an opportunity presented itself, he swiped the woman’s leg, causing her to fall to the floor. When he heard a thud, he climbed on top of the woman, pinning her down between his legs.

A swift punch was laid across his face, and he caught the second punch. He pinned the woman’s hands above her head, and when his vision had cleared, he froze.

Joel had gotten home late on the night of September 23rd, 2003– his birthday. He was exhausted, and when he walked in through the front door. Sarah was asleep in your lap, but once she heard the front door close, she sat up. You smiled at him as he sat down his tool bag, “Look what Sarah borrowed from Mrs. Adler.” You said and Sarah stood up and handed him the DVD case. “I’m glad you’re home, I have a gift for you.” Sarah said as she reached under the couch and pulled out a small black box.

Your arm rested on the back of the couch and you watched Joel open his gift. When he opened it, his face lit up, “Wow, Sarah I—”

“I knew you’d never get it fixed, and I remembered how much you liked it.” She said proudly of her gift. Joel smiled as he latched his watch onto his wrist and pulled Sarah into a hug. “Did you get the cake?” She asked and his head fell back. “Shit. Sorry baby, I forgot.” You patted Sarah’s shoulder, “It’s fine. We can go do something fun tomorrow, and we can go get ice cream afterwards.”

Sarah smiled at your words, and she hopped off the couch. “I’m going to put the movie in and change into pajamas. Would you mind making popcorn?” She asked you.

“You got it.” You replied standing up from the couch and Joel followed you into the kitchen. You sat a bag of popcorn in the microwave, and Joel wrapped his arms around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your neck, and his hands tucked themselves into the pockets of your jeans. You were wearing his flannel with a white tank top underneath. “Have I told you how sexy you look wearing my shirts?” He whispered in your ear.

You looked over your shoulder and smiled, “Tonight you can show me how sexy I am in a new set of lingerie I bought.” You purred and Joel pressed a kiss to your lips. “Happy birthday baby.” You said as you tip toed to kiss him.

“Also, there’s something I have to tell you. It’s a part of your gift, but I’m afraid of how you’re going to respond.” You said as you clasped your hands together. Joel’s hands stayed around your waist, “C’mon babe. You can tell me.”

You nervously looked away from him, checking to make sure Sarah was still upstairs. “Joel, I’m—”

The sound of the microwave and Sarah’s voice made you jump, “Dad, Y/N, are you ready?” She asked and you smiled at Joel. “We can talk about it later.” You said as you grabbed the popcorn out of the microwave and dumped it into a bowl. Sarah grabbed Joel’s hand and led him to the couch, and you followed behind them.

——

You didn’t know how long you were asleep; Sarah’s head was gone from your lap and the sound of the kitchen sink running stirred you awake. “Joel?” You yawned and the water shut off. He emerged from the kitchen drying his hands, his old watch that Sarah had gotten fixed, glistened from the soft glow of the kitchen light. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” You asked and he tossed the towel over onto the coffee table. “Because you looked so peaceful and I didn’t want to wake you darlin’.”

Joel sat down next to you brushing the hair from your face. You held up his wrist so you could see the time, “Looks like there time for one more present.” You whispered, and you reached under the couch and pulled out a small green box. “Baby, you didn’t have to get me anythin’.” Joel said and you brought your feet under your legs.

“Joel, I love you. I really, really love you. I didn’t know what love was until I met you.” You said as you looked down at the small box in your hands. “And I want you to know, that no matter what, I will always love you.” Joel hand rested against your cheek, “Darlin’ what’s wrong? You know I love you too. I love you more than anythin’, but you’re scarin’ me.”

With a small smile, you handed him the green box. He started to unwrap the bow, and when he started lifting the lid, his cellphone started ringing. Joel sighed and sat the box down and answered the phone.

“Hello? Tommy?” He said as he looked over at you, his eyebrows scrunched together. “What the hell— god, Tommy….” He groaned as he rubbed his hand across his face. “Fine. Fine, I’ll be there in ten.” He said and you sat up a little straighter.

Joel sat the small box onto the couch and he stood up. “Tommy got himself arrested. I’m gonna go get him, d’ya mind sitting here and waiting for me? I promise I’ll open your gift as soon as I get back.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah, I’ll wait. Be careful.”

Before he walked out the front door, he turned back around, his knee rested on the side of you. He gently lifted your chin and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “I love you, darlin’.” He pressed one last kiss to your lips, and quickly went out of the front door. That was the last time he kissed you; he gave you a kiss goodbye and didn’t even know it. Those next few hours were hell; his daughter had died in his arms, and you were taken from him.

A pair of eyes identical to yours, stared back into his. “Y/N?” He whispered and confusion spread across the girls face. “What? How do you know that name?” She said through gritted teeth. Joel released the girl’s hands and she pushed herself up and away from him, “Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s me— Joel.”

The girls eyes softened, “I’m not Y/N. That’s my mom..”

Joel’s mind was all over the place, the girl in front of him was your duplicate. Her eyes, her nose, her entire face, and her hair, that was all — you. The two of them slowly stood up from the floor, he was terrified to ask the question that has plagued his mind for the past two decades. “Is she…. Is she—”

“Alive?” The girl asked with an eyebrow raised, and he nodded. She walked over to the window and whistled a loud tune, and in a matter of seconds, the sound was returned. Joel scanned the room for his brother and footsteps echoed up the stairs, and his heart pounded in his chest. Another woman burst in through the doors, and she went straight over to the girl, cupping her face with the palm of her hands.

“Mom…” the girl pointed over at Joel and when you turned around, his heart stopped. You looked the same as you did all those years ago; a few strands of gray hair, and a couple of smile lines were visible. A scar above your top lip was noticeable and you stared at Joel like a deer caught in head lights.

“Y/N….” He said breathlessly and you gave him a small smile. “Joel.”

————

Author’s Note: Omg sorry I haven’t updated! I’ve been super busy and i am so excited to FINALLY have part 3 posted. There will be a part 4, but it has not been written yet. Let me know what you think. Comment and reblogs are always helpful and greatly appreciated! <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us

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returnofeternity · 9 days ago

Note

any headcanons for nat with a tmasc reader? :]

she likes to steal your clothes all the time (⁠^⁠^⁠) you barely have any clothes left in your dresser cause they're all shoved in hers or tucked somewhere in that pile of clothes on the bedroom floor. she chooses to wear your shirt when waking up the morning after, sometimes even your boxers. she wears your sweaters when it's cold. she uses your ripped up shirts when you help her bleach her hair again 😒

you're jealous of her voice ;-; or maybe that's just me...but she reassures you so much when you get voice dysphoria :( she gets sad when you go mute sometimes because of how bad it gets. she's kissing your cheek, rubbing your back, and knows just the right words to cheer you up. helps you voice train if you want to, or just helps you get more comfortable with your voice. always mentions how sexy she thinks it is. begs you to keep talking but if you're genuinely uncomfortable, she stops and apologizes... likes kissing your adams apple too :) if you don't have one, she likes kissing your throat and hearing/feeling you hum.

calls you a pussy for almost passing out at your monthly blood work appointments (if you hate them just as much as me) after you come out and tell her how nervous you were, but was right there in the waiting room, rubbing your arm and putting her hand on your bouncing leg to try and calm your nerves. never makes fun of you (at least not too much..) if you want her to go in with you because you feel calm and safe with her there.

nat giving you cool haircuts 😁 she has such good style that you trust her to give you a haircut. makes sure to tell you how handsome you are and kisses you until you believe it. you love when she has her hands in your hair/on your face guiding you where to look so she can cut, and she likes touching you in general ! :)

scrawny lil nat with buff or even chubby tmasc reader.... she's got some muscle, but barely. she loves the size diff tbh. loves how beefy you are and loves that tummy. she loves post-shot times where either she or you inject the T into your stomach and then loves to rest her head on your bellayyy. she loves how she can squeeze your thighs and arms and belly and cheeks and everything. also loves being carried.

singer!reader whose singing voice changes drastically on T and nat who fucking loves it. you were able to do high notes but now you can't really do them without your voice cracking... goddd she lives for your voice. starts geeking and giggling to herself when she catches you singing. requests her favorite songs always....... asks you to sing her to sleep or sing to calm her down when she's having bad days :(

nat who does ur makeup :) making your face more masculine with tutorials she found online, getting distracted by how handsome you are, and messing it up with her kisses... or if you like wearing makeup, she likes sitting in your lap and doing it. nat who always forgets to put blush on your cheeks because you're constantly red while she's holding your face so gently anyway 😭

nat who starts arguments with anyone who looks at your trans pins weirdly. if they look at you weirdly, let alone say anything, may god not have mercy on their soul... she will get into fights for you. she doesn't take that shit lightly at all. idkk. just thinking about talks with her about staying stealthy after she almost got arrested one day for assaulting someone (deserved) who was being weird to you. telling her you don't feel safe even when she confronts them and protects you :( asking if she could just leave it and focus on you. but also jokingly bumping her shoulder and saying, "i don't care what you do after, though. if they end up dead on the news, i don't know anything." and she smiles

nat buying you trans books/films. ESPECIALLY films. :D buying you gender affirming things all the time, her heart bursting at how happy you are when she gifts them to youuu

#anon #natalie scatorccio thoughts 💭

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cakerybakery · 3 months ago

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Oh fuck. Rabbit cowboy Adam. That would be hot.

Adam as a desert cottontail hybrid human/animal, herding cattle meets the hurt outlaw rattlesnake naga Lucifer.

Lucifer was injured trying to rob a train because his daughter is sick. Charlie needs an operation. Adam thinks about his kits back home and tells Lucifer, that he’ll pay for it but only if Lucifer earns the money to pay him back by working on the ranch.

Lucifer and the newly better Charlie come to live with Adam and his litter of boys.

When the sheriff comes by Adam lies through his teeth, “Louis the rattler has worked for me for a long time, Michael. Just been a while since you come around.” They’re old friends, but had a bit of a falling out after Eve passed and Michael made a move that Adam didn’t reciprocate.

Adam rather likes Lucifer, he’s a sweet man that adores his daughter. It’s hard not to fall for him.

Time moves on and Lucifer feels like Michael is always watching him. Asking questions that seem pointed and Lucifer has trouble answering, grateful each time Adam saves his scales.

It’s proving hard for Lucifer to not fall for the large cottontail. He’s not used to folks looking out for him.

Lucifer isn’t as clean and clear from trouble as he let on though. You don’t rob a train by yourself. The sins could be the other robbers, tracking Lucifer down they have a classic western movie stand off.

Oooh Cain, Abel, and Seth could be over protective of Charlie, who they think of as just a little girl, forgetting she has venom in her fangs. They could have their own subplot where they leave Charlie out or their adventures because they think she’s weak and won’t be safe.

The sins are holding the kids hostage. Lucifer’s has always been a bit of a push over, not wanting trouble, not until Charlie got sick. As a rattlesnake most people are afraid of him so the sins used that fear to rob people, but Lucifer himself was easy to push around that they constantly stiffed him on his share. And he couldn’t leave or find legitimate work because now he was a wanted man.

He tried running with the whole take from the train robbery, but was injured by the sins and lost the money before Adam found him.

The sins are overconfident that they can force Lucifer to do what they want. What they don’t expect is for little Charlie to sink her fangs into Satan’s arm and free herself, nor the rattle from the shadows as Lucifer uses his speed and venom to take down the rest.

Lucifer doesn’t like hurt or killing but he’d do anything to protect the kids.

Adam has to call on the sheriff. Lucifer’s just asked that Adam take care of Charlie for him.

Michael listens to the story, how this dangerous wanted gang came looking for their missing member, Lucifer, and the money he stole. How they held the kids hostage and Lu killed them (leaving Charlie out even though it was pretty obvious), and Michael looks everything over and goes, “well, looks like self defence to me, Louis.“ he’s not a bad guy, he knows who Lucifer is, but he also knows Lucifer isn’t the bad guy everyone thinks he is since he’s been watching Lu for months. Can’t judge a person by their scales. Besides, Adam’s a good judge of character, Michael trusts his judgement. If he trusts the outlaw with his kids, home, and heart, then Lucifer’s worth the trust.

If he had knees, hearing that Michael was letting him off, would have brought Lucifer to them.

When things are cleaned up, the boys think Charlie is pretty amazing and invite her out to play with them, figuring she can handle it after all.

As the kids go out to explore, Lucifer’s apologizes for not telling Adam. He didn’t think they’d be looking for him. Not with how Adam found him.

Adam asks if Lucifer has any other secrets.

Lucifer takes the opportunity to confess he’s got a bit of a crush on Adam.

Adam laughs, “not much of a secret. If one more person from town asks when the wedding is before you ask me out, I’ll scream.”

“How long-?”

“Hmm, I’d say that night we were camping out to chase off the coyotes.”

“That was months ago!”

“You weren’t subtle.” Adam chuckling as his ears twitch, listen for the kids and trouble even when talking to Lucifer. “Before I let you court me though, anything else I should know?”

“Umm… did I tell you my ex-wife is the desert queen?”

“The outlaw?”

Lucifer nods.

“Well, what’s one more body in the ground if she comes around?” Adam pulls Lucifer into a kiss. “I like spring weddings and Christmas engagements. Best find me a pretty ring.”

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #adam x lucifer #guitarduck #Rattler AU

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mossdoesartshit · 1 year ago

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extermination day extermination always irritated vaggie. She had developed a major dislike of it upon being dropped into hell for showing mercy, which shouldve kept her in heaven than get her booted out, but she had found the love of her life here, so she couldnt complain. After the battle during the old hotels time, the exterminations had become far more erratic. sometimes theyd be only a month or so away, sometimes over a year. she had no doubts it was entirely because of lute, which she wasnt too fond of, but what could vaggie realistically do, her old sister in arms had always been a bit of a nutcase. besides, she had bigger fish to worry about right now. she and charlie were doing a headcount of people who had been in the hotel that day, (alastor, husk, nifty, the usual people, along with some hopefully quests to be) and there was one person distinctly missing "do i have to go get him?" vaggie asked, exasparated "come on please? he should be somewhere on the upper floors, i saw him walking up before the bell rang loud, besides you always have your weapon on you!" charlie begged, earning agreed mumblings of the others "If Safety Is Your Concern, Trust Me Vaggie, I Will Be Able To Handle Any Possible Nuisances While You're Getting Mister Bleeding Heart Back" alastor piped up, with that sickeningly sweet grin of his. She rolled her eyes, and groaned out a soft "fiine" as she moved to go up the hotel. Thank Fucking Lucifer that he had installed an elevator into the hotel, because boy howdy if vaggie had had to walk up the flight of stairs just to get Adam she would not have even considered it. Eventually, she found him on the roof, watching the carnage. "come on Adam, i know youre probably so fucking hard about all the destruction and shit, but you wont be safe from them killing you" Adam didnt turn to look at vaggie, instead closing his wings around himself as best he could, and "I can still recognize them you know" "huh?" with one wing, adam pointed down to two exterminators "that right there is lyre, ruthless as ever, but she has that methodical work flow, kind of like a dance. i think they partnered her with a newbie, which is good- well. bad, but. good from a combat standpoint- because she'll get good pointers at the end" vaggie looked down at the next group of exterminators that adam pointed to "over there is janatha, still fumbling with her stabs and pierces as ever. shes in a bigger squad, but they always worked well together, even if theyre a bit chaotic" an explosion blew up relatively near them, and adam looked over to it with sluggish movements "must be lute... say vags-" "vaggie." "-vaggie, do you remember flute?" "huh? you mean lutes sister?" "mmhm, lutes always been pretty ruthless, but that can leave her open at the back, flute would have covered her but. i think she was killed a few exterminations ago, the one that weapons dealer got. i think theyve tried to pair her with others but i always see her alone" vaggie stood there stunned "i. didnt think you were telling the truth when you said you recognized me. i thought you'd been bluffing or that lute had told you, given..." "well, thats the view souls have of me i suppose. liar down to a t. but i do recognize all of them. i just regret that my blind rage cost the lives of several of them and... lutes arm" another explosion closer to them alerted vaggie to grab adams shoulder "come on, charlies going to get worried if you keep me standing here, cant have you getting killed now that shes done so much work on you" "whatever you say vaggie" adam said, solemnly looking behind to where theyd spotted lute, before walking with vaggie to the elevator to get to the more bunkered area

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bluesgrxce · 8 months ago

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Yandere Link x Reader x Yandere Mipha Headcanons

Virgin Link x Reader x Zelda love triangle - Obvious ship is obvious, has been done a thousand times before, we all know the dynamic

Chad Link x Reader x Mipha love triangle - Rarely if ever explored, has more room for interpretation, involves THE superior ship of all time

I think we all know which one is better. (/j because I love the Link and Zelda triangle too)

Pretty much every yandere LOZ writer that I've seen has agreed that BOTW Link and Zelda would not be able to work together. At least not when they first met each other. And I totally agree. They're forced to spend time together nearly 24/7 by King Rhoam, which means they're also forced to share you, and that'll create tension. But Link and Mipha? They would definitely have an alliance.

Their alliance is based on two factors. One: They share the same goal of wanting to give you the best life possible. Zelda uses you more as a coping mechanism, and even though Link does that too, he's especially focused on making sure that you're safe. Mipha desires the same, as well as making you happy.

Two: Although Mipha is obsessed with you and priortizes your needs over Link's, she still admires him as a person. She knows how useful he can be. Link respects her as well. Not quite as much, but just enough to accept her into your life and let her help give you everything you want.

In result, these two work together scarily well, even better than Link ever would with Zelda. They never had past resentment towards each other, and unlike Zelda who can be strongly adamant, Mipha would let Link take the lead and make big decisions.

That... isn't always a good thing. Link is willing to do anything to protect you, even if it includes doing things that would make you hate him. Mipha is aware of this, but she thinks Link is more capable of ensuring your safety than she is, so she'll likely remain silent. But that also means that they have less disagreements, making their alliance even more powerful.

If you allow them to, they'll spoil you rotten. Mipha uses her royalty riches to purchase anything your heart desires, and Zora's Dormain is basically your playground. You've got just as much power there as she does in some ways. Because of that, this is the place where they'll keep you.

Link is also putting in work. He'll use his skills as an adventurer to do multiple things in your name, like bringing back rare items from his travels or cooking your favorite foods. If you ever begin a sentence with "I want" then expect Mipha to drop everything just to hear you out. She'll tell Link about it and he'll run off at the speed of light to get whatever it is that you requested.

Outside of that, the time you spend together as a group is generally quiet. They're both introverted and they would rather watch you do your own thing instead of talking all the time. Just being in your presence is enough to give them peace of mind.

Fortunately, neither are the type of yandere to keep you locked up. Not with actual chains. (Unless they believe you're in severe danger, but something insane like the calamity would have to be going on for that to happen) Link still loves to explore and he would love it even more if he could take you along on the journey. Mipha wouldn't object to that as long as you liked the idea! However, they both know that Hyrule is littered with monsters, so they're not about to let you leave without one or both of them by your side.

If you ever argue with one, the other will try to convince you to make up with them. You'd think they'd want to turn you against them so they can steal your love, and trust me-- it's crossed both of their minds before. But this alliance has worked really well in their favor and they don't want it to fall apart so easily.

That's not to say their alliance is perfect. Jealousy still exists in both of them, even if it hasn't been acted upon yet. And like I mentioned earlier, Link is usually the one who makes the big decisions on how to handle you, meaning that their alliance has a power imbalance.

Plus, Link is stuck guarding Zelda most of the time. Mipha is more than fine with taking care of you by herself, but Link hates the idea of being away for too long. He'll try to convince Zelda to spend more time at Zora's Dormain to avoid getting in trouble with King Rhoam, but he's willing to sneak off if he must.

If you're accepting, then your future is already laid out for you. It would be extremely difficult for Link to abandon his position as Zelda's knight just so he can become a normal citizen again, even after the calamity is over with. So the easiest way to get around that would be to transfer him to the Zora army instead. Except there might be issues allowing a Hylian inside their guard which is currently composed entirely of Zora... Until Mipha takes the crown and makes some changes.

Either way, you're going to marry Mipha and be introduced into the Zora monarchy. Congratulations, you're royalty now! You're going to marry Link as well, but not officially, since some people would see it as scandalous to be in a relationship with your knight at the same time as your wife. But neither Link nor Mipha care. They know what your true feelings are and that's all that matters to them.

But what if you don't accept them? Because as much as they spoil you, they still restrain you. You can't go anywhere alone. You can't do anything that would risk your safety, whether it's monster hunting or just going down a long set of stairs. And they're always second guessing you, especially Mipha. "Are you sure you're alright? I saw you frown for a second. Yes, it was only for a second, but you do know how I worry..."

So even if you like being with them intially, it'll get old after a while. Mipha will notice your discomfort first. She'll adjust those restrictions ever-so-slightly to make you think things have changed, when they really haven't. If you must leave Zora's Dormain without her or Link, then let a guard accompany you. If you must continue associating with that friend of yours, then tell her and Link everything about your relationship. Tell them everything about all of your relationships. They'll find who's good and who's bad for you. (Don't be surprised if they think everyone is bad.)

Link, though... Once he hears about this, he immediately shuts it down. He doesn't trust anybody to protect you but himself. And he's seething at Mipha for being so irresponsible. She's supposed to look after you, not risk letting you escape.

Just the way that he glares at her is a silent form of gaslighting. She truly isn't fit to take care of you on her own, is she? She's too soft. She needs Link. If it weren't for him, you would have already left her.

And now that Link has doubts about her ability to keep an eye on you, he'll enforce the rules himself. Now you can't even walk around Zora's Dormain without him by your side- when he's gone, you just stay put with Mipha. Not allowed to do anything until he returns. If you resist, he'll only make your life harder.

But you aren't totally screwed. There is one way to make their alliance fall apart: make them doubt each other. Link already doesn't trust Mipha enough anymore, so you need to manipulate Mipha into turning against Link. Usually that's impossible, but now that her confidence is low, you can appeal to her sympathetic side. Make her feel guilty for letting Link do whatever he wants to you. In this state, it won't take long before she cracks.

Your best bet would be to trick her into thinking you want to run away together from Link. Actually taking her with you isn't an option. The Zora will go into a frenzy when their beloved princess disappears and if they find you, they'll likely blame you for convincing her to run away.

Mipha wouldn't want to leave at first. She'd be too anxious about the consequences, knowing that she would have to abandon her father and brother. Knowing that Link would stop at nothing to take you back. She's just so obsessed with you though and she couldn't fathom the idea of you seriously tricking her. Besides, you only want to leave so you can be happy together, right?

She thought so. She really, truly believed so. But you went missing the moment she turned away to pack her stuff. Then... There was no other choice but to tell Link the truth. Because it's Mipha and she's simply not the type to lie, even if it might hurt her.

In this case, though? It isn't even a "might." Link had gotten used to being assured of your safety (or used to being in control of you) that it freaks him out once he hears you're gone. His immediate thought was to go find you, but his second is that how could he have ever trusted someone like her to protect you? He leaps to anger. He draws his sword.

I can't say for certain what happens next. He knows how much trouble he'll get in for harming her, but in that moment, it wouldn't cross his mind. She probably wouldn't fight back much since she respects him so highly and feels awful for allowing you to take advantage of her.

...If Mipha dies, the Zora will never forgive you. They'll be more pissed at Link obviously, but they'll blame you for indirectly causing this to happen. The whole LOZ fandom would never forgive you because we all love Mipha. I would never forgive you because I am the ultra #1 Mipha enjoyer. You might be able to live a content life if you can ignore the hatred and hide away, but just know that Link won't be the only one tracking you down. You'll be on the run for the rest of your life.

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a-very-sparkly-nerd · 9 months ago

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i'm grateful you're my daughter more than anything

Post 6x09, Runaan finds Rayla as she takes care of Callum. She's changed, and he couldn't be a prouder father.

Felt cute might put up on ao3 later :b

The first moment they had alone was in the dead of the night, moon high above the Nexus. It felt fitting, almost full-circle.

On his way down the hall to the library, to get parchment to send a letter to Ethari explaining what could never truly be explained, at least not fully, Runaan spotted Rayla slipping down the hall, footsteps light and quick as a true assassin's, despite how opposite of one she was, a steaming teacup on a little plate in her hands.

She looked up when she heard him, smiling a little as her low ponytail swung. "Runaan. ...Hey." She cleared her throat. "How- how are you feeling?"

He shrugged in the enormously oversized nightshirt the lumberjack human, Allen, had lent him. It was off-putting, being out of his form-fitting, safe garb, especially in this strange, unknown place he should very well have felt relaxed in- a full moon, at the Moon Nexus, but all Runaan could feel was... odd. "As good as one can, I suppose. How are you, though? How is your human? Clem- Camel? Stop me when I get it right-"

She laughed, and it wasn't a snarky one he'd grown so accustomed to. "Callum." A smile ticked her lips upwards at his name. "His name's Callum. And he's-" Rayla looked away to the wall, the little table she elected to set the tea down on, anywhere but him. "He's okay. I think. Mostly in shock. But he'll get through it." The unspoken words hung in the air, a truth both of them hated knowing: What other choice does he have?

"He's got you," Runaan offered, drawing closer. "That's pretty damn good."

She laughed again, a real, merry one, despite the bitter undertones. "Yeah. Some cuddles and tea are all I can do until morning. Bright and early, we go to Katolis." She made a face, and at least that was the same- her utter hatred of mornings.

Just like that, Runaan found himself relaxing just a little more into her presence. No longer a little girl he felt the need to protect- Well, she would always be that, his beloved daughter once he started acting like it, but someone he trusted to have his back. Even with how much she'd changed, not everything had.

"I will be up with the sun," he promised, and she looked away. That had just been one more thing setting her apart from the rest back at the Silvergrove, during training: her adamant refusal to awaken at the crack of dawn for early-morning runs and sparring.

Good. Please, let her never be like the Silvergrove, Runaan prayed now, just as he had so many moons ago with Ethari after Lain and Tiadrin left. Let her never have the hardened heart of an assassin, the only ones the community would spare the time of day. She had an out, and one look at her and Callum was enough for Runaan to know that she'd take it and never look back.

"Well, I should get this to Callum," Rayla said awkwardly, stilted, moving to take the cup, but Runaan stopped her with a gentle touch to her wrist. "Rayla, wait." Gentle, the way he'd be with Ethari. Because this was his daughter, not a member of his troupe or someone under his jurisdiction. His family.

She pursed her lips slightly and shook her loose bangs out of her eyes, and Runaan couldn't help but remember back to her parents. She was the perfect combination of them, with Lain's braids and horns, Tiadrin's nose and face shape, and her lavender eyes unique only to her. Setting her apart. "Yeah?"

He drew his hand back. "I've never seen you like this," he said, admittedly curiously.

Rayla tilted her head, questioning kindly rather than the abrasive, aggressive way she'd always done before. "Like what?"

"Giving," Runaan said, because that was the first word that came to him. Rayla had always been kind and generous and loving, no matter how she'd hated to show it. "Kind. Loving. Happy."

She took a hesitant step closer, reaching to rest her gentle, small hand on his upper arm, blinking furiously.

"It's a good look on you." He blinked his own tears away as she bit back a sob-ridden laugh. "The best one."

Rayla ducked her head, bangs swinging with the motion. "Thank you. That... It means a lot. So much."

Runaan clasped her hands, drinking the sight of his daughter in. So small physically, but larger than life. So, so loved and gorgeous, inside and out, and he was sure her human made sure she knew it, too.

"You have a beautiful heart, Rayla," he said eventually, softly. "The most gorgeous I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. My worst regret is trying to burn it away instead of nurturing it. And for that..." A hand found its way to lay over his heart, bringing a sniffling Rayla’s with it. "I am truly sorry."

"Runaan..." She shook her head, reaching up to wipe away his tears, and they were the softest fingertips Runaan could remember, his own and Ethari's so calloused and rough. And here was Rayla, giving and gentle. The daughter he'd always dreamed of but never deserved. "Don't," she said firmly. "It was my choice. My choices. I had to find my way here on my own. In the end..." She glanced back down the hall, to the closed door that the boy she loved more than life rested behind. "I like where it got me. I'm glad I'm here."

"Rayla..." Runaan tucked her hair behind her ears, pressing their foreheads together. "I don't know what it means to you, but I am so proud of you. I love you, Little Blade. You are my daughter. I only hope you'll let me be your father."

Rayla threw her arms around him, sending him stumbling back in shock, immediately holding her back. "Of course. I'd forgiven you a long time ago, Runaan. I'm so glad you're my father. You always will be. I love you."

And he'd already said it tonight, but Runaan had spent far too much time hating and killing, and not nearly enough loving. So he hugged her back, whispering, "I love you, too."

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 2 months ago

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Headcanon - Overlords Attacked / Magical Virus?

Oh, this one would be so fun.

-----------------

Attack on the Overlords - Magical Virus

Brazen and unexpected, but immediately dismissed as silliness.

(Striker involved? Because his plan was always to kill overlords)

----

They are at a meeting, something unusual to experience more than once a year usually post-extermination to discuss new territories and boundaries. The meeting is being held in a neutral location this time, given the recent information around angelic steel and the sheer fact Carmilla happens to have 90% of it in all the area.

The building is well-warded, and technically contains a pocket dimension fuelled by all of the Overlords’ powers that they were meeting in. It was a fun little measure to ensure no one could lock everyone else away if all of them had control to some extent. The flashing whorl of different magic about the walls could get nauseating if you looked too closely, however.

Perhaps that was where things started to go wrong.

There was some level of tension, naturally, as always at these meetings… but at the same time a sickly tendril of complacency arose about the ankles of each and every overlord present. They had Won. They were in a place of their own making. They were Safe. Well, as safe as one can be in hell… but still, they were not as alert as they should be.

All the Vees had come this time, an interesting development. However, it was clear that they were simply making a point of force, and having a go at the Radio Demon.

“I can’t believe you’d even bo00000the333r to show up after being such a fucking coward!” Vox goads, grinning maniacally, claws digging into the table as he leered across at his rival. “Heard your freaky little maid actually took Adam out, bet that stings just as bad as your humiliating defeat you old timey FUCK!”

“Hmmm, yes I am quite proud of Niffty and her achievements. There never was a stain she couldn’t get out, and by golly was Adam a stain on all of humanity in life and death! Hahahhaa!” Alastor parries, Rosie joining in the laughter.

“Stop deflecting you fucker, and face the fact that you ran away like the little bitch you are!”

Alastor grinned, “Perhaps… but I could not help but note your absence on the field of play, picture box, except perhaps for your voyeuristic eyes swarming about. You accuse me of hiding in the shadows, and yet… that feels more apt for you and your cronies, does it not?”

“Voxxy, tell him how excited we got when you saw Adam penetrate him… hmmm?”

Alastor fought to stop his ears from flattening. “Mmm, not the terminology I would use, my dear insectoid colleague, but I do understand the parlance of your profession would be hard to slip out of in more civilised surroundings.”

“Hah, hard. Like Vox when he thought you died…” Valentino snorted, and Velvette rolled her eyes before giving a half-hearted high five to the moth.

“I do not know how you put up with their insufferable hijinks, Miss Velvette…” Alastor commiserates.

“Trust me, sometimes I fuckin’ don’t either. But they’re good in bed, so for now it is what it is, innit?”

“VEL!” / “Babydoll!”

Rosie’s hollow eyes glance between the trio, finally confirming something that was SURE to make the high tea at her emporium tomorrow quite aflutter with gossip.

Zeezi make the room shudder as she traipsed in, with Carmilla and Zestial close on her heels. Odette and Clara trailed their mother, clearly armed and trying hard not to look in any way on edge about not having full control of the layout.

“Greeting Sovereign Overlords of Hell and thank you for meeting again so soon after our last meeting. I see that we have not lost anyone in the previous Extermination, nor are there any new faces to bring up to speed, so we may get onto pressing business.”

“Oi, why’re you the one who gets to chair these meetings, pointy-shoes? Let someone else take a turn once in a while…” Velvette complains reflexively, her main intention being on trying to find the right angle to get proper signal for her phone in this liminal space.

Carmilla, with the patience of someone who has already raised two daughters, responded with a calm smile. “Overlord Velvette, would like to submit a request for a rotating roster for chairing of the meetings? It can easily be arranged. However, we will need assurances that all the requested parties will attend… which I understand is not always possible, given the chaotic nature of your joint industries.”

“Pfft, nah. I’m just sayin’, maybe you don’t need to be so uptight and in control all the time.”

Odette and Clara visibly stiffen, glaring daggers at Velvette. Carmilla’s expression remains oddly serene, as does that of Zestial as he seats himself beside her.

“Your concern for my wellbeing is admirable, and I thank you. So, how about we move onto the pressing matters that have brought us all to the table today.”

She ignores the outraged spluttering of the outmanoeuvred Velvette.

Carmilla knows if she pushed it even a fraction more, the younger woman might accidentally call her ‘Mum’ in her next retort, that specific wheedling whine was so… familiar. Her eyes cut across to the trying-not-to-look-at-her flushed expressions of her own daughters, who were clearly flashing back to teen tantrums of their own.

“Today we meet to discuss the new direction of Hell. That is to say, given that the Exorcist Army was so successfully repelled last week and the countdown has not yet resumed, there is a large question around what the future will look like in relation to our ongoing antagonistic relationship with Heaven. Overlord Alastor or Overlord Rosie, would either of you have any new information to share?”

“Thank you darling, I must say things went off quite splendidly!” Rosie chimes in, hands expressively accompanying her words. “My cannibals and cannibettes had just the most delightful time devouring the angels that those lovely people at the hotel downed for us, and we have such a surplus of divine meat it’ll last for decades in the freezers.

That reminds me, if anyone has time to fit in a little feasting, we’re hosting a banquet in my little town next week for everyone to show off their culinary experiments with the angelic flesh. Oh, it’ll be delicious!”

There was a pause. “And don’t you worry, if that’s not your thing we will also have a few chimkin and vegetarian options. Promise!”

“Dear Charlotte has advised she intends to attend, Rosie, with the lovely Vagatha and the other hotel members.” Alastor advised, grinning at her in a genuine manner that sparkled in his eyes.

It could also, it must be said, have a little something to do with the horror in Vaggie and Lucifer’s faces when they’d been invited to a feast wherein Angel Wings were on the menu… which he had mentally filed away for later perusal and enjoyment.

“How… magnanimous of you. I am certain that there may be a few minutes in my schedule somewhere to attend, thank you for your gracious invitation.”

“Here, here.” Alastor agrees. His fingers tap the table in an odd little rhythm that catches Vox’s attention. “Well, in terms of an update I would heartily agree that Heaven has realised they are not so invulnerable as previously thought… and that has left them quite paralysed in shock. Both the Princess and King have attempted to reach out to Heaven individually, and received limited answers; polite platitudes if you will. It appears those above no longer wish to draw ire or attention to themselves under the circumstances… hahahahahaaa!”

“Most assuredly, the Heavenly hosts were most severely rebuffed upon their entry to our realm. Victorious, our reigns remain.” Zestial enthuses.

“Okay, but now what?” Velvette jumps in, watching Vox’s eye twitching as he seems to be decoding something. Valentino exhales a stream of heart-shaped smoke and pets her arm soothingly. “I mean, let’s face facts… those fuckers have been getting away with this for ages and one lost battle ain’t just gonna be enough for ‘em to call it quits, yeah? What d’you think they’re planning?”

“An excellent question, my fashion-forward friend! Just imagine the fear the angels feel now that their avenue of annual entertainment has been annihilated, it only raises the stakes. Why, I suspect more than a few of the heavenly court our dear Princess faced off against are practically moulting themselves over the idea that sinner ranks may once more swell to the populace last seen when the last proactive royal attempted to counter them.” Alastor interjects, grin becoming sharper as the shadows deepened.

“Which is precisely why we need to plan for the potential responses we shall receive from above. Even if no one takes the opportunity to rebel as Queen Lillith once did, it will likely be a thought closely bound to the minds of those ruling Heaven… we must prepare on the off-chance that there is a more... punitive response.” Carmilla advised.

“Hmm, well I would absolutely agree with that, Overlord Carmilla!” Vox slid his way into the conversation, all schmooze and practised business speak. “As we’ve previously mentioned, VoxTech is working on a new brand of Angelic Security options for you and your family, however I’m thinking that this little venture may go a little faster and smoother if our industries were to collaborate to get these products out and about before Heaven gets it in their stuck up little heads to-... YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”

Vox’s tone fritzes as he hurls a bolt of lightning across the table at Alastor, whose fingertips stilled against the table. The other leans to the side and avoids catching electricity to the face, expression delighted.

“Why my dear Picturebox, whatever could you be referring to?”

“Oh you FUCKE-...YOU KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!”

“Wha-... oh for fuck’s sake, Vox, let it go already. Ain’t like you two never said that shit to one another before when fighting…”

“W-...wait, you know morse code, Vel?”

“Course I bloody do. It’s the basis for a lot of coding, and you know how good I am at that little techno language… hmmm?” There was a concerningly sexual lilt to that statement that made the TV’s screen flare for a second. “And you, you grinning anachronism, stop goading my idiot ‘cause I’m the one who has to deal with him after you two do that whole… flirty fighting nonsense.” She waved a flippant hand as static screeched in response.

Rosie was laughing at the absolute disgust Alastor was expressing.

“Oh deer… she’s got your number, haha!”

Valentino grinned salaciously over the table at the Radio Demon, and some of that noxiously vivid smoke dared trail over to touch him. Alastor’s shade loomed up from behind the moth’s chair, fingers out to-...

“ENOUGH!” Carmilla called, snapping the meeting back to order.

“Aww, it was just getting good…” Zeezi muttered to the overlord to her left, some guy with a flaming blue skull and a name no one could recall. “Spoilsport.”

“Yes yes, indeed. Let us set aside such PETTY differences… and focus. If possible.”

“Big talk from the person who shut down the last meeting when dolly over there got a bit up in your business…” Zeezi prods, needling at the other.

Carmilla sighed. “That is quite true, unfortunately. My conduct was not appropriate… however, in the efforts to better manage these meetings, I ask that personal grudges and any… flirting… take place outside these walls.”

“So, what’re we going to do, then?” Valentino asks, bored of the whole thing and already tapping away at some sort of game on a Vpad produced from who knows where in that gaudy coat. The sound was a little high and the continued high pitched trilling pop of whatever he was doing was irritating more than a few present.

Alastor reached out to the airwaves and turned the volume down, shuddering at the sensation of dealing with the technology, but his ears stopped stinging all the same, so it was worth it.

“Why, teach your thralls to fight properly and bargain with the lethally lovely Overlord Carmilla for support to arm them, of course! We’ll give those angels what-for when they get back here!”

“And that’s where our Angelic Security products come into it!” Vox jumps back into the conversation. “Yes, we can meet individually with you or as a group at a later date to discuss options for each and every one of your territories, down to the last thrall’s residence. Let’s get everyone ready to face off against the threat, and make sure those feathered FUCKS have nowhere to hide when they inevitably bustle back down here.”

More than a few of the other Overlords were nodding in interest, including Rosie, much to Alastor’s horror. To think of even greater surveillance across the entire ring was… horrifying, he felt his gorge rise… but what could he say to counter such an offer?

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but remains silent.

“An intriguing proposal… I will also find time for a consultation with VoxTech Industries. Now, I open the floor to a discussion around any of the currently contested territories, disputes and if there are any up and coming potential overlords that we should be aware of.”

“Yeah, I got a question for Zesty up there about some of his people setting up in one of my warehouses… I don’t like the looks of the light shows going on at night. You know if what they’re doing is any kind of danger to my people? Cause I don’t want that on my turf.” Zeezi asks, glancing down the table at the other.

“Many apologies, mine thralls have sourced your spacious building to complete alchemical experimentation of a most vexing nature. Nothing that should light the skies nor cause the flames of hell to writhe, thou hast mine assurances.”

“So it’s like… drugs? Or glowsticks or something?”

“More akin to potives for various purposes, health tonics and their opposite numbers. Hmmm, I hath made cert that all endeavours pose no risk to thine enterprise, peoples or the waters therein.”

“Ah, ‘kay… could’ve been more fun if it was drugs, just saying. Either way, we can negotiate some of that shit from you later, right? My guys’re rough and tumble, and they get too into it sometimes, so it might be helpful to have something vaguely medicinal around.”

“Verily, those in this room hath mine ear first and foremost for such wares.”

“Nice to know.”

“Would your people be open to assisting in production of Love Potion?” Valentino asked, missing entirely the flicker of distaste on the ancient overlord’s face.

“Hmmm, such an endeavour wouldt not be within mine realms, as such a potive is intrinsic to thine enterprise, is it not?”

“Hmm, yeah I guess so.” Val shrugs multiple sets of shoulders. He’d lost interest after he got a general ‘no’ vibe from the elderly overlord. “Well, is that it? I got several people to do today…”

“Well, if there is no further business, I suppose that we can conclude this meeting. Overlord Rosie, my daughters and I look forwards to attending your event next week, and I would hope to see-...” Carmilla’s words cut off with a choked cry as chaos erupted throughout the room.

Rippling cracks filled the room simultaneously, as bullets flew in perfect precision to strike each and every Overlord through the skull with pinpoint accuracy. Some struck from the side, others from behind… and several through the forehead. Even Vox was not spared, his screen fracturing from impact as it rippled outwards from between his eyes.

Bodies slumped to the tabletop or out of their chairs depending on the directional force they received from the attack. Blood of varying colours coated the walls, the table, one another.

Odette and Clara screamed as their mother fell back into their arms, and they covered her with their bodies, weapons to hand as they prepared for a further assault that seemed imminent. And yet, never came.

As silently as it had begun, everything ceased, the only sound the harsh panting of the two warriors and the steady dripping of blood and gore off various surfaces. The room buckled slightly, wards shorting out due to the sudden loss of power fuelling them.

None noticed the tiny flares above of coin-sized portals closing amongst the whirling multitudes of magics present; the perfectly camouflaged vantage points for would-be assassins.

“What… what do we do?” Odette hisses at her sister.

“I don’t-... we need help, someone who won’t take advantage of this.” Of our mother. Of Zestial and the others.

The children of Overlords were few and far between, but they knew that their ties protected and bound them to the others present as strongly as those same connections dissuaded harm.

Why, more than once another Overlord had casually stepped in to divert potential kidnappers from taking them in the early days… and made no real mention of it to their mother. It was simply… an unspoken little courtesy extended to them due to who they were.

In fact, the only one who probably understood that feeling was likely-...

Odette gasped, “The Princess!”

Clara already had her phone out, shaking fingers encouraging a seldom-used number to ring…

“Please pick up, please pick up!”

Ch2 - etc

In hindsight, perhaps an activity involving so much glue, glitter and other confetti-like substances was not the most appropriate option given the current hotel staff and clientele.

Husk had it matted in his fur at this point and Niffty was driving everyone ballistic with her frequent attempts to clean up excess before it even reached the paper.

Angel had, unfortunately, decided the exercise was ridiculous and crafted a very detailed but wildly inappropriate veritable bouquet of demon dongs on his paper.

“Uh, Angel… I love the hmmm, the enthusiasm… however, we were supposed to be making art of things we…” Love. Ah, the flaw in that little statement just hit her. She laughed nervously, “Actually, that’s fine! I’m er, glad to see it’s just… that… and you didn’t draw any of the substances you normally talk about all the time. So that’s some progress!”

“Nah princess, I’m just not great at art or you woulda seen me draw a real detailed version of Whiskers, probably with a line or two to snort off’a his pert-...”

“WELL NOW THIS LOOKS FUN, what’s happening in here?!” Lucifer’s voice rings out, cutting off the truly heinous sentence he just walked in on before his daughter turned any deeper red. She really needed to get better at shutting down sinners when they got vulgar but… that was a skill that came with time.

“Just a little exercise in creativity, we’re drawing what we love! Or, uh, trying to… Niffty, please stop eating that, it’s glue.”

“Oh for the love of-...” Vaggie was there trying to wrangle it out of the hands of the smaller demoness. It was quite comical to see someone trying to avoid those sharp teeth and simultaneously remove the heaped handfuls of glitter-caked glue from the same mouth all at once. “Bad Niffty, you’ll get a stomach ache! Uh, what…er, what if you get too unwell to deal with the bugs? Then they’ll win, right?”

The little maid paused, arms and legs dangling as if all her energy had gone inward to thinking that over.

“Is that-... is she okay? Is this normal?” Lucifer found himself asking, perturbed by the blank stare.

“Yeah. Give her a minute.” Husk adds, glancing over dismissively.

Well, if anyone would know if something was wrong, it’d be the guy who worked alongside her for decades.

“Okay!” the little thing brightened, dropping the glue to the floor and wriggling free to run off. However, she paused mid-turn and shuddered.

In a split second, three chains lit up the room without any prior warning and flickered.

“What the FUCK, what the FUCK is happening?” Angel gasps, starting to breathe heavily. This wasn’t Val being a dick and calling him in, the other end of the chain was fading towards him right this second… disappearing. A tug was there, but it didn’t want his physical body, it wanted his essence.

“No! Sir!” Niffty cried, slouching to the floor as her energy was siphoned towards the rapidly disintegrating end of the chain.

“What’s happening?” Charlie cried, eyes wide and hands twitching, unsure who to help first as Husk slumped forwards onto the crafting table, body twitching with the strain.

And then her phone goes off.

A connection she didn't use often, but there’s a frantic daughter of an overlord on the phone who needs her Right Now, even if the exact nature of the issue isn’t easy to obtain due to the frantic sobs and heaving breaths on the other end.

“Stay calm, can you tell me where you are? Okay. Okay. We’ll be right there, it’s going to be okay.” she snaps the phone shut. “Dad! Someone attacked the Overlord meeting and they’re all dead!”

“WHAT?!”

“Please, can you portal us to the (make up location)? I need to-... Carmilla’s daughters are there alone in a room full of-... and Rosie and Al were there! Oh no!”

“Breathe, duckling, breathe. We can go. But what about your friends here?”

“We’re coming with you, just give me a sec…” Husk said gravely, head still on the table and one claw raised. “Fuck, this hasn’t happened in… years… got used to not being used as a fuckin’ battery. Alright, let’s do this.”

Angel shoved himself upright through will alone and stumbled towards the others. “If he’s dead-dead, I reserve the right to desecrate the corpse and no one gets to make a fuss about it. Capisce?”

“Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiir…” Niffty mewls, crawling up Vaggie’s leg to cling to her like a koala.

“Alright, let’s go!” Lucifer snaps open a portal right through those cute little wards the overlords set up. Hey, he’s the King for a reason.

Its a scene of devastation and carnage.

They’re dead. ALL Dead.

Charlie runs over to Rosie and Alastor first, the former seems to have been caught through the side of the skull and the latter… well, unfortunately, it seems to have gone straight through the forehead. Hmmm, that might be a little triggering later on, she’d have to work on discussing that with-... oh, yeah. Fuck.

Neither showed any signs of life or afterlife or vitality or however they classed it here.

Clara and Odette were sobbing at the head of the table, each curled protectively around Carmilla or Zestial.

Lucifer asks what happened. They have no answers, one minute it was fine and the next...

He uses his magic to fill the room to sense what went down, sees the portals. Tastes magic that is laced with Heavenly power but is native to hell somehow. Possibly from the use of blessing tipped weapons.

“Can you… heal them?”

“Duckling… they’re dead, but they’re not... fully gone, or your friends would be free right now, right?” Still the fact anyone got bold enough to kill or try to kill a dozen overlords at once was… concerning.

“Oh, so can we give them a uh, a little boost to help them wake up?”

“You can but… do you really want to waste it on these guys? They’ll regenerate soon enough.”

Charlie frowns at him, and gently provides some power to Rosie and Alastor, and when they begin to breathe again (even if morbidly slowly), she moves on. Moving to Carmilla and Zestial, to Zeezi, that weird skull guy, and then the Vees… she hesitates over Valentino, though.

“Oh no, I’m so… exhausted… I just can’t without rest…” she mumbles, making a show of swooning into Vaggie’s amused arms.

With a hiss, Alastor sits upright, the back of his head half-healed into its regular shape but the unsightly bullet hole in his forehead was leaking blood obscenely. However, he noted the awakening Rosie and immediately offered her his kerchief to manage the matted blood in her hair.

She handed her own back across and they laughed, swiping at the blood. They handed them back sticky with crimson gore.

“Deerling would you be offended if I made tea with the kerchief? Just for me of course.”

“Of course! I’d hate for it to go to waste!”

Carmilla and Zest awaken, immediately pretending not to be worried for the other as if they weren't the worst kept secret in Hell, and then turned their attentions to Calra and Odette, who were BESIDE themselves with grief and joy.

The others Waking up, unsure why they hadn't been sent through a proper reset / reformation because a headshot would do that.

What happened? Who would DARE? Who could even do this? Most Goetia couldn't bust down a doorway held back with the power of multiple overlords. It was a matter of amassed might.

Odd. Unsettling in a way that made the King uncomfortable, as if he'd missed something. He plucks several of the bullets from the walls, floor and even tabletop where they'd been ejected post-regeneration.

They don't... smell of heaven, not directly. Which was good, because if they had even a trace of angelic steel in them, none of these sinners would be here right now.

So then, what was the point of it? To target an entire room, warded strongly enough to dissuade most under royal goetia level, of the top tier of sinners... only to use that one shot (so to speak) on a non-lethal delivery.

He wants to think its someone new to hell, someone who didn't realise nothing short of an angelic bullet would kill a sinner, an overlord. But that doesn't add up. New sinners wouldn't have the ability, the connections to do this, and older / experienced sinners would never take this risk unless they thought it was guaranteed.

So what was this all for?

He feels the answer tickling the edge of his infinite mind, clouded with years of roiling depression, trying to connect the dots for him. However, right now...? He was feeling twitchy about his daughter being anywhere near this place, wondering if these was an ambush likely.

Out of courtesy to the overlords he did recall and liked, he offered them portals home. The Vees declined, curling into Vox as he turned them to electricity and jumped into the outside powerlines.

Rosie stepped straight through a portal into the frantically yelling arms of Susan, who was berating her for needing to use her energy, all the while hugging Rosie with a desperate relief neither woman would ever be able to mention. The frightening woman pointed her walking stick through the portal menacingly at Alastor as well, stating she was glad to see his rudolph looking ass hadn't been annihilated either but how dare the pair of them worry cannibal town like that?!

Alastor was too stunned to retort before the portal closed. "...I believe that's the first time dear Susan hasn't threatened to skin me for a decorative rug... and then complained about how it would be oddly proportioned." he murmurs, blinking, and then has to deal with Niffty gluing herself to him and holding tight.

Lucifer immediately drags everyone back to the hotel, and throws up additional wards despite Alastor's protests that his were more than sufficient.

A touch cruelly, Lucifer retorts that clearly they weren't or he wouldn't have been shot in the head a second time, hmmm? And Charlie had to intervene to prevent the dad-off part 2 from starting all over again when they were both keyed up and anxious for different reasons.

She then made things worse by asking if Al wanted to talk about it? Because she knew it might have triggered thoughts of his death and-...

The overlord had JUST enough patience not to snap at her as the smile went taut. "My dear, do keep your new age nonsense to yourself, it's hardly the first time someone down here has tried that, I have a glowing X on my forehead... they do tend to aim for it..."

"Yes but, you were-... and ROSIE was-... if you want to talk about it, I'm here." She grasps his hands, and he looked like he wanted to recoil from the intensity of her care and compassion, which was bordering on the manic side at this point.

"No, as I said it's fine. And besides, it's hardly like the real thing... there were no dogs this time!" His laughter echoes as he fades into shadow, leaving Charlie perplexed and looking to Husk for an answer.

He chugs an entire bottle. "No, absolutely not, he'd kill me if I told you... just don't go bringing hellhounds here unexpectedly, he tends to not respond well. Last one ended up with limbs torn off... but Rosie sewed 'em back on and they got the guy sorted out."

"That's horrible!"

"Eh, death trauma gets us all a little weird, toots..." Angel intones, draped over the lounge seating like it was a risque photoshoot. "I still can't stand being in a dingy bathrooms with faint mint tiles and flickering bulbs. Sends me right into my own head..."

"Oh... is there... anything you need us to change about your room?" She's frantically thinking about what colour scheme his bathroom has, it had been a generic room to begin with before he went pinksplosion on the place.

"Nah, I'm good. There were some green tiles in there, forest green I think it was, but I asked Al to switch it to pink months ago... he made it pink and black, but said if it was all pink id never be able to work out distance from anything if i was hungover. Fucker was right."

Lucifer frowned, "And what little deal did that cost?"

Angel blinked. "Well, I offered to give him the daily special, four hands no questions asked, and he gave me this whack on the head with his microphone thing and laughed. Told me to save it for someone who cared for that sort of thing. Eh, his loss. But he did it cause that's what the facility manager does, right?"

"Hmmm, I really should have thought about what environment could do for our guests and their trauma. Hmmm, good feedback, Angel." she's working herself into a strategising mode.

Vaggie intercedes immediately. "No, no you don't, we're going to get a cup of tea and calm down and then talk about how you're really feeling about all this... bottling it up will just hurt you in the long run. You haven't... seen sinners die and reform like that, the ones you kind of care about, before have you?"

"...no." the voice is smaller.

And suddenly Angel has her and Vaggie off the ground in a deep hug. "Hey, s'okay toots... catches us all off guard. Last time Cherri got killed, I went on a week long bender until she reformed, I didn't know what to do without her, 'cause we did everything together. It's fucked up, but that's how it is..."

"And you're trying to change it, give another option, sweetie. We believe in you, and your dream." Vaggie reminds.

---

Lucifer provides a shot of vitality to the thralls who'd been drained automatically. Feeling they were the real victims here. He wouldn't be able to chase down all the affected, but Husk and Angel and Niffty were in reach.

---

Vox will keep it out of the news to prevent copycats. Vulnerability was the wost thing an overlord could have. There's no way to play at it that every other overlord got hit but not the Vees... too many questions would be raised.

Overlords make a show of being seen in public, brazenly unafraid and seemingly unbothered by the incident.

[Pick a villain for this shitshow. Angelic in nature, orchestrated from someone high in the council, someone who was in the courtroom with Charlie and Emily singing. Not Sera, perhaps one of the as yet unnamed angels, like Uriel or Castiel... for the hell of it.]

Plot Twist: Turns out the bullets were simply a medium to deliver a very specific spell/curse to each overlord. On the inner core of the bullets, something Lucifer notices too late because he got distracted with Charlie and the hotel and ducks and the Sins saw him on TV and wanted to check in and- and- and-... Well, he missed it. With his true Sight, his devil's eyes, it would have been clear as daylight, but... he'd been too focused on trying to work out why the sigil on the base of the bullet was familiar.

Ironically, the sigil was put there because the person who had ordained it all KNEW that Lucifer was easily distracted, and if he had bothered to look into it at all, as he likely would because of Charlotte's connection to the hotel and overlord associated... then that was the most surefire way to divert the angelic adhd nightmare from figuring it out.

Until it was too late.

Once he sees. Or, they should say, once he SEES, it's almost too late to reverse. The curse, the spell, the whatever the fuck it is because it seems to be a mishmash of multiple magical ideals and cultures, like they'd been jammed in a cosmic blender and it just SHOULDN'T BE WORKING but it is...

It's doing something to the Overlords. Soemthing that each initially passed off as residual healing from the attack. It's not usual (to be loved by anyone...) for them to feel...off. Depending on the complexity of the injury and location, and the rapid nature of the regen, it could leave one feeling quite discombobulated.

In short, the spell things are targeted to them individually, and invoked by their blood. How they got scraps of it to even train the spell to begin with is anyone's guess, but Overlords scrap all the time... however, it also leave a sinking feeling in Lucifer's chest that this wasn't some fly-by-night scenario. This had been planned out for a long time. Which didn't bode well.

And then when it was fired, when it entered their heads and (even briefly) touched the blood, the viscera, the gorey internals... the spell activated. Blasting out in a sharp shockwave that imprinted the sigils, the spell, the curse within the regenerating tissue of each overlord. Immediately fed and nourished with the influx of power drawn from thralls to settle and expand.

It is now inside them, hard to claw out. Seeping into their very bones, muscle, tissue. Slowly tightening about their bodies, their minds, their power. They are weakening day by day and it never stops.

By the time it becomes obvious something is wrong, despite the best covering that all the Overlords manage, it's almost too late.

The power keeps going out, the phone networks die at random and the radios shriek. Services managed by Overlords stall without direct input. It's... a lot to deal with.

The anti-Overlords groups taunt and jeer, whipped into a frenzy by their puppet leaders. Ensorcelled sinners under angelic guidance.

----

Propaganda appears talking about how Overlords are dangerous and oppressive, that anyone seeking to rise to that status will be cut down once the current overlords are dead. Pictures of all the overlords deceased at the meeting go viral. Velvette convinces that its a deep deepfake.

Who? Why? What could this mean?

Stryker in here somewhere, orders from above to enact this. Someone with portal power, he was given the chance to work outside of time for only a minute in total, and he was able to enact all those shots simultaneously. He chafed at not being allowed to use his preferred weapon...

The curses start to drain the overlords, and limit their powers, siphoned off to this unknown person or some sort of totemic device (identify for plot).

Lucifer is getting nervous, sure he was leagues above Overlords but anyone who had the power of a dozen could potentially take over several goetia houses, and work on up accruing power from there, right?

Overlords don’t like accepting help or weakness, it takes a LOT to keep these fuckers from dying alone in the dark. Even Odette and Clara struggle to get their mother to truly express that she is hurt, weak, feeling unwell.

Stubborn to the last.

Some seem to shrink in stature. Some go pallid, others darken. Their bodies fighting every step of the way as they are physically forced back to human shape over a rapidly increasing duration. Vox is the most confused, having his human head back all of a sudden was the best and worst thing. Zeezi hadn't been this short in decades. Zestial had forgotten what being human even was.

Rosie... well, she was part hellborn, and it left the spell confused as to how to manage her. Susan staunchly keeps the others from eating her, but calls 'that tiny idiot in the stupid fruit basket hat' to come get her. A human in cannibal town, despite their love an adoration of her, won't last long. Instinct and all.

Their nerves are on fire, the overlords are consistently trying to hide what is happening. At first they manage to snap back into their demonic forms with effort, but as their magic wanes... it becomes increasingly clear that things are Very Wrong.

When it's discovered that they are all trapped in their human forms, Charlie personally collects who she can to bring them to the hotel. Some fight but well, she's a 6ft + super strong princess and they're human. which is to say, she can tuck them under one arm like an aggrieved chihauha at will and sneak them to her car.

The atmosphere of Hell isn't made for the living, and everything is slowly killing them. The air, the water, the lack of sunlight, the magic in everything. The furniture and other sentient things. The plants have a particular interest in eating them. Niffty has to decimate them with fire daily to keep them contained.

Mostly, despite their best efforts to remain mobile and help solve this conundrum, they're too weak for anything. But the idea of being weak, being vulnerable, even to the bleeding hearted princess, is terrifying to the overlords individually and collectively.

Alastor is particularly frustrated for various reasons, as his shadow is no longer animate... which feels like a part of him has atrophied and died. But, also, he's closer to the height of the wretched little King, who is having a great time with that. He's about an inch taller, but Lucifer's not letting that go.

Still, more concerning is that whatever it is has not yet finished with them. You'd assume this was the core of the matter, to turn them human where they'd be eaten alive by all of Hell... or killed by exposure to the atmosphere were the King not (reluctantly in some cases it must be said) providing some healing on a regular basis.

It starts when Velvette collapses, and can't be roused for well over two days. Blood pools unceasingly from-... well, it was clear how she'd passed, unfortunately. Charlie wanted to do mental health first aid the minute the overlord opened her eyes, but thankfully she was talked into Waiting for a more appropriate time.

Then Zeezi seized and hit the floor, and those who knew her recognised her cause of death (it had happened at a 90s rave, and amidst the flashing lights, pressed bodies, thumping techno and free substances no one had seen her seize until they found the body when the lights went up). Her body resisted purging the problem, despite heavenly effort.

The pair seemed locked in this... endless death.

Valentino was next, and that was oddly heartbreaking to see. Damage welling up all over the vindictive man's form, and it was clear he'd been beaten to within an inch of his life by someone. Even Angel, who fucking hated the guy, couldn't find joy in seeing something like this... even if it should have felt like vindication for everything Val did to him. He'd noticed Val had stayed away from the spider this whole time, but Angel had never been someone who'd force himself on others, not even in revenge. He jus didn't know how to say it out loud to the guy, when he wanted to spit in the usually-moth's face.

Three down.

Then Vox... his flesh sizzling and sloughing off as he collapsed. Electrocuted. Ironic. It took some fancy ward-work to stop the endless generation of electrical charge so they could get near enough to help.

[Can't tell when Carmilla died, google it, put her between the two]

Carmilla... well, her wounds were confusing. Some defensive, but strategic. Perhaps she had fought back better than her assailant had assumed? In the end, stab wounds opened on her body, and a glaring one across her throat as she laid on the carpet of her room, her daughters yelling for help.

Charlie had to take them aside and get them to play tetris through tear rimmed eyes (genuine trauma response technique) to calm them down. They'd seen this twice now. And previously, they'd died next, so it was hitting very hard.

Rosie and Alastor refused to say who was next of the two of them, both remaining cagey.

Alastor kept distant from the others, and only Husk had an idea how bad this would be. But he was close enough to Al's room when it happened, first the bullet through his thigh to make sure he couldn't run... then the marks of mauling, and finally a bullet hole between the eyes.

Charlie had screamed and shattered a mirror when she'd run at Husk's yell. Lucifer grimaced, but did what he could as the other fell into the odd coma all the overlords were trapped in.

"Told you... he hates dogs for a reason." Husk shrugged, and walked out. He maintained nonchalance long enough to duck into angel's room, head right to the toilet and throw up the last 18hrs of food because fuck, that was... that was terrible. One thing to know academically, and another to...

Rosie slowly began to freeze, and nothing they did helped, until her limbs locked up tight and water spilled from her lips. She'd been on the titanic, you see, maiden voyage and all. One of the few who decided her lifeboat seat should go to a youngster... but her penchant for eating husbands was weighed against her so, Hell it was.

She's put into a room full of regularly changed warm blankets, the water never stopped.

Zestial simply grew weak and fell into the coma one day, body twitching on occasion. Lucifer originally guessed infirmity or illness... but when he Looked Again he saw the signs of poison.

All of them down, all of them trapped in an endless deathcycle.

What could any of this mean? how was this helping Heaven or Hell or anything?

He's beside himself and calls on the Sins because What. The. FUCK?!

----------

Heavenly interference.

Calls on goetia that monitor the stars. Stolas scries that there is something on Earth on each gravesite that is channelling this downfall's magic.

Uses IMP to go to earth and find the totems, have them bring them to Hell where they can be studied.

Have to siphon out the curse with the totem, and then break it for each overlord, to bounce their power back.

Discover the angel, petition heaven for punishment. Get told too bad so sad.

Some sort of aftermath and dealing with the anti-overlord groups. etc.

ETC

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chickwiththepurpleguitar · 5 months ago

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I'm going to give you a prompt my brain gave me but that I haven't made any progress writing. My idea is that Adam from The Bright Sessions is Atypical and his ability is fusing with other people like the gems in Steven Universe. Because this requires some degree of physical, emotional, and cognitive synchronicity, he probably wouldn't discover it until one of the many moments he and Caleb almost kissed before they started dating. Then Adam has to deal with becoming a new person sometimes when he's with Caleb, figuring out who that person is and their name, whether Adam wants to tell his parents about this, how Wadsworth would react, and a slew of other issues. I imagine that Adam's fusion with Caleb would get to experience the world on the stakeouts. The College Tapes would also definitely happen differently, since I'm not sure Caleb could hide his pokemon evolution from Adam if they fused and Adam being Atypical himself deals with many of the problems that caused them to break up in the first place

Me, who's seen zero (0) episodes of Steven Universe, looking at this prompt: hmm... I don't really know what to do with this... but I bet I could get 750 words out of this concept somehow.

Me, 2000 words later:

No but for real, this prompt ended up bringing me SO much joy to write. Once I figured out the general idea I was going for, I really hit the ground running, and wrote the whole thing in just a couple hours! I really hope you enjoy what I came up with!

(and as always with prompts, if I didn't end up writing your idea exactly how you envisioned it, you are of course so allowed to write your own fic with the same idea! Or a continuation of my version! Or you can always request that I write my own continuation! Two cakes, etc!)

This takes place vaguely post-season four. CW for references to Safe House, kidnapping, depression, PTSD, etc. Canon-compliant angst :)

Send me prompts to help me finish my 2024 writing goal!

By this point in his life, Adam Hayes feels like he’s pretty much got a handle on how all the atypical stuff works. There are specifics that keep crawling out of the woodwork to shock him– Damien, for example, as Adam’s recent brush with kidnapping proved, as well as his Aunt Annabelle’s evil villain arc, which Adam is admittedly still getting used to– but the general gist of it all, he’s got down.

The gist being: there are people with superpowers. And there are people like Adam. Normal. Boring. Safe, until they’re not anymore.

He’s not worried about it. Not consciously, anyway. He trusts, for reasons he can’t even explain, that Damien really is gone for good, and that even if he weren’t, Caleb’s beating has officially moved him from the “superpower” category to the “boring” one, leaving him no more threatening than any other asshole white guy.

(He does not let himself think about the fact that Damien was as good as powerless when he hit Chloe with a lamp, or how six months later she’s still dealing with the effects of the resulting concussion he gave her. Adam will simply keep a can of pepper spray in his backpack and continue to convince himself that he will never let his guard down around Damien like Chloe did, should their paths ever cross again).

He has enough other things, better things, to focus on– his Yale application, and then finals, and then preparing to live away from home for the first time ever, and on top of all that, his boyfriend– that for six months, he manages to think about the safehouse incident as little as humanly possible (nightmares notwithstanding). And not once does it occur to him to make the connection between almost being kidnapped by a whackjob mind manipulator and something his mom said to him almost a year ago when he first got her to sit down and talk about atypicals with him: Sometimes abilities start to manifest after instances of trauma.

After all, making said connection would require Adam to admit (even just to himself) that he experienced a trauma, which he has no intention of doing because that would mean he’s even more fucked up now that he already was.

Besides. There are two kinds of people in the world. People like Caleb. And people like Adam. An atypical ability “starting to manifest” is just something that was never going to happen to him.

Until today.

He’s at Caleb’s house, which is always a little bit complicated because Caleb’s parents (not to mention his nosy little sister) are way more likely to be home and “interested in what you boys are up to” than Adam’s. They try not to complain about it, because it’s sort of a miracle that the Michaelses’ only reaction to Caleb’s endangerment at the safehouse was “no more therapy” and not “no more boyfriend,” and the last thing Adam wants to do is give them any reason to change their minds on that, but it is annoying. They’ve learned to be quiet.

Caleb’s sitting up against the headboard of his bed, facing the “just ajar enough to be plausibly called open” door, while Adam straddles his lap, poised purposefully on his knees to be able to roll off and into the desk chair placed strategically next to the bed at the slightest sign of someone approaching.

Like I said. They’ve got a system.

Adam usually enjoys kissing Caleb more than he enjoys just about anything, but he’s not feeling it today. Not even in a “his depression is bad so every sensation is muted and foggy, much less his libido” kind of way, but just like… he’s preoccupied by something.

Caleb must notice, because he breaks the kiss and takes Adam’s face in both his hands so he can look him in the eye. “Hey. You all right?”

Adam opens his mouth to lie, but if he tells Caleb he’s fine then they’ll go back to making out, and he’s not sure he actually wants to do that. So instead, he says, “What am I feeling right now?”

Caleb gets the little crease between his eyebrows that Adam loves and hates in equal measure that means he’s really focusing in on his empath ability. Adam knows him well enough by now to be able to track the turning gears behind his eyes– he can see the moment when Caleb separates his own feelings in his chest from Adam’s and starts to analyze them.

But then his frown deepens, and he says, “I… don’t… know.” His eyes meet Adam’s. “Purple. And like… stretchy. It’s not an Adam feeling I’ve ever felt before.”

Adam sits back in surprise, hands falling away from where they’d been looped around Caleb’s neck. “Wha– seriously? We’ve known each other over a year. I thought you’d have felt all the Adam feelings by now.”

“So did I,” Caleb says, frowning into the distance again. “It’s weird.” Adam’s stomach flips, just as Caleb adds, “Oh, shit, now you’re– sorry, I didn’t mean to make you, like. Feel bad. New feelings are probably super normal.”

Adam rolls his eyes, trying to brush away the guilt eating at him, and whatever he’d been feeling before– the purple, stretchy distraction– intensifies.

“So, uh… what is that feeling?” Caleb asks, rubbing absently at his chest, like Adam’s emotion is causing him some kind of physical discomfort, which does not help much on the “Adam not feeling like a burden” front.

“I don’t know,” he admits, climbing all the way off Caleb’s lap to sit cross-legged in front of him instead. His feet were starting to fall asleep, and his hands feel a little numb– he wrings them, trying to rub feeling back into his fingers.

“Is something on your mind?” Caleb asks, laying a comforting hand on Adam’s knee.

“No,” he starts to say, because there isn’t really except for the fact that he feels a little weird all of a sudden, cold like there’s a draft and a little unsteady, but somehow what comes out of his mouth is, “Damien.”

“What?” Caleb says, voice sharp and close in Adam’s ear in a way it wasn’t before, even though neither of them has moved. “You were thinking about Damien?”

“No!” Adam says, for real this time, and then winces, knowing Caleb can feel the untruth, and amends, “I mean, not– I guess, not consciously, just… I guess maybe I’m always thinking about him? In the back of my mind?”

The purple, stretchy feeling inside him– and damn Caleb’s stupid emotion color metaphors, but that is a good way to describe it– expands even further, pressing tight against his ribs like it’s trying to break out of him, and maybe Caleb can feel that too, because he takes Adam’s hands in both of his.

“I think, sometimes,” Adam continues, words flowing out of his mouth almost without his permission, “I just hate that he got away with it. Like, okay, he spent, what, four months? In a basement cell that Mark was trapped in for the better part of five years? Oh, so his only consequence was having to leave town and be normal like the rest of us? Like that’s so fucking bad? Chloe still gets headaches and you’ve got all this guilt to deal with and Damien just has to be normal?”

The more he talks, the more the purple feeling fills him up, and red hot anger right alongside it, and a distant tiny part of himself knows that he should calm down before he says or does something he’ll regret, and that he’s probably freaking Caleb the fuck out right now, but his vision is starting to white out around the edges, and the purple and red warring for dominance in his stomach are making him feel sick, and for a moment or two, the only thing Adam can focus on is the warm, rough sensation of Caleb’s hands in his his.

Adam blinks, and the world turns upside down.

Or, no, wait– not upside down. Backwards. He’s facing the door now– sitting where Caleb was just a second ago. His anger has dissipated, but the purple stretchy feeling is still there, if settled, somehow, like it’s filled him up enough that he can mostly ignore it.

But something’s still wrong.

Maybe it’s that he feels bigger now. Taller. He brings his hands in front of his face and they’re hands he’s never seen before– big, with thick fingers and skin a lighter shade of brown.

Maybe it’s that Caleb’s gone– nowhere to be seen, the room totally empty, the spot on the bed in front of him already growing cold– or that Adam is too.

Because he’s not… quite… Adam anymore. He’s not Caleb, either.

The thing that’s wrong is that he’s someone new.

He scrambles off the bed, stumbling a little on new big feet, and rushes over to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of Caleb’s bedroom door. He touches his face, and those big hands cup Caleb’s stubbled cheeks. He touches his head, and thick fingers tangle in Adam’s messy curls. He’s wearing Caleb’s jeans, tight around the waist, and Adam’s Black Keys t-shirt, hanging just above his belly button like it’s been cropped. He’s gotta be at least six and a half feet tall.

“Holy shit,” he breathes in two voices, and the purple thing inside him snaps.

Adam hits the floor with a shout, curling protectively around himself out of instinct. Next to him, there’s a twin cry and thud as Caleb is thrown to the ground with equal force. Adma pats himself down, feeling his skinny arms and pianist fingers, the shirt that fits and his hair on his own head.

“Holy shit,” he says again, voice high with panic but purely his.

“What the hell!” Caleb agrees, scrambling back away from him. Adam backs up against the opposite wall, giving Caleb as much space as he can without leaving the room– Caleb doesn’t need Adam’s alarm in his chest on top of his own.

Plus maybe Adam feels like something you shouldn’t get too close to at the moment.

“What was that?” Caleb gasps, staring at him with big, wide eyes.

Adam shakes his head. “I don’t know?”

“But that was– that was you, wasn’t it?” Caleb pats his chest, like he’s still trying to convince himself he’s real and solid– Adam knows the feeling. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know!”

Footsteps pound up the stairs, and Mrs. Michaels calls, “Caleb? Adam?” She raps perfunctorily twice on the half-open door before sticking her head in and sizing them up: Adam cowered against one wall, Caleb still on the floor and huddled up against the other, both of them looking disheveled and wild, like they’ve been up to who knows what. “I heard a thud, are you boys all right?”

Caleb looks from Adam to his mom, and hurriedly gets to his feet. “Yeah! Yeah, Mom, sorry, we’re– we’re fine.” He takes a calming breath, like he’s gotta prove it, and gives Adam a charged look. “Right, Adam? We’re okay?”

But Adma can’t imagine lying right now, not even just to get the adult out of the room so that he and Caleb can debrief in private. He feels wrong still, and monstrous, and so far from normal it hurts.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, and can’t help the first dark thought that springs to his mind:

Is this how Damien felt?

TBS tag list (lmk if you want to be added!)

@pandoradeloeste

@genericgirl420

@sizzlingjudgebanditpaper

@ziggy-st4dust

@flibbertigibbety-jibber-jabber

@friendlyfishboy

@bakugouuuwu

@alexacat57

@jaytheunique

@mercale

#writing #tbs #tbs fanfiction #the bright sessions #adam hayes #caleb michaels #ask #ask game #prompt #writing prompt #fanfiction

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