#tw: mentions of murder
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Hi, will u do a human alastor x side mistress reader, so basically he has a wife, but he doesn't really love her, so when he's on the air he has sex with his side mistress in the radio tower. His side mistress knows he's a serial killer, by the way. You don't have to do this if u don't want to. I love ur fics.

By the Gold Ring on His Hand
Synopsis: He loved you and only you. You were his to cherish, to adore, to worship. Sweet words he whispered softy, promisingly, into your ear. Sweet words he also whispered softly to his wife.
Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of murder, heavy manipulation, cheating
Tags: human!alastor, alastor x reader, gn!reader, reader is the other wo/man
MDNI
You've always revered Alastor.
You were entranced by the way his smile never broke. The way he seemed to take control of any situation he was put in. The he always managed to just charm the socks off of anyone he's ever met.
You loved the way he made little corny jokes. You loved the way he danced—barely drunk from the bottles of rye he downed.
And oh, did you love the way he spoke.
You could listen to him all day on the radio, just absolutely smitten and melting where you stood.
The one thing you didn't love about Alastor—the one thing you despised, really—was his wife.
That naive little thing. So meek, so quiet. You always hated the way she would cling onto his arm at parties. Loathed the way she'd shyly smile at everyone, including you.
There was just no way that delicate stupid girl could satisfy someone like Alastor.
Alastor needed, deserved, a real partner. One that had enough of a spine not to be stepped on, at the very least.
Your fingers twitched, aching to touch him more; to caress his thighs that perfectly framed your head. You wanted to feel him beneath you, reassure your heart that he was here with you.
You groaned as your longing was denied. You felt Alastor press his shoes harder against your hands, pinning your palms to the floor. The fingers in your hair tightened their grip, guiding you more strictly down his cock.
It was enough to cheer you up a little. Although your touch was declined, the little vibrations your sounds made clearly still had an effect on him. You felt a little proud knowing something as small as you moaning around him pleasured the hefty cock in your mouth.
The reality was far more bitter, though. Not that Alastor would ever let you know that.
Truth be told his grip was a warning. He had explicitly told you to be quiet, to keep your hands to yourself. But you seemed to be so adamant on testing his patience today, as you were refusing to do both.
Alastor's smile strained just a tad bit more in annoyance as he spoke into the microphone. "Hate to finish up the broadcast with some sour news, but someone's gotta keep you lovely folks up to date!"
You continued to bob your head between his legs, hidden from the rest of crew by the control panel. You made sure to drag the flat of your tongue over the under side of Alastor's dick each every time you lowered your mouth to his crotch. If your ministrations did anything for him, you couldn't really tell.
His voice was perfect, not a tone out of place as he continued his broadcast. You've never seen a man so well put together while having someone's mouth serve them so reverently.
"Seems the coppers found a couple more for the good old wooden kimonos last night. Grizzly sight it was—so I heard. Hate to be the ones to dig those poor souls out."
Even though he was the one to put them there in the first place, you suppressed a laugh. Not that you were complaining, though. It was part of how you and Alastor finally got together, after all.
Alastor finished up his broadcast, and you continued your slow little prayer on your knees. He waved his staff away when they tried to approach, simply sending them off with a friendly jest that he'd meet them at the bar after he cleaned up his work station.
It was only when the lock clicked behind his crew did Alastor finally acknowledge you. His lovely smile was intact, but you could tell his mood was a little soured by the way his brown eyes narrowed at you from behind his glasses.
The hand gripping your hair pulled you off his cock, a pathetic whine escaping your lips as he did so.
Alastor tried to ignore the—rather off putting—sight of a thin string of fluids connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. He bent down closer to you, keeping his gaze locked on yours.
"My dear, I thought I told you to be quiet while I worked." His voice was as sweet as ever.
You chuckled lightly, you wanted to move your hands to cup his cheek, bring him even closer to you. Perhaps even for a kiss to lift his seemingly bad mood.
The moment Alastor so much as felt your fingers twitch, he stepped harder on your hands again, keeping them pinned to the floor and away from him.
You opted to shrug your shoulders sheepishly instead. "I may have gotten carried away," You responded coyly "You just taste so good."
Alastor did his best not to cringe, choosing to tighten his smile. Ah, you were in one of your moods again, he thought.
"Then why don't you go ahead and have your fill of me now." His hand left the back of your head, resting instead on the sides of his chair as he leaned back. The gold band on his ring finger momentarily caught the light and drew your attention to it.
Your chest tightened just the slightest bit. You absolutely hated the reminder that Alastor wasn't fully yours. That he'd still go home to his stupid wife at the end of the day.
But not for long, at least that's what Alastor had promised you. And not right now.
You ran your tongue along the thick vein of his cock, from the bottom, up its shaft, and smiled at the sight of his hips bucking up to your touch.
"In your mouth now again, darling." It didn't sound like a request, but you obeyed faithfully anyway. You were rewarded with a soft sigh as you welcomed him back in your warm mouth.
You'd bet your job that his sweet little wife never pleased him like this. Skittish thing like that would probably run at the thought of putting her lips on a hard dick.
Well, her loss is your gain.
You were so far gone in your own head that you hadn't even noticed Alastor wasn't looking at you.
No, instead his head craned towards the ceiling of his studio, eyes closed and tired.
He was trying to focus on the physical sensations you brought him, not that he had much of an interest in it in the first place, but he tried hard to concentrate. All he had to do was finish, and he could finally leave. Leave you here with some sweet promises, and not have to deal with your disgustingly loving gaze on him until maybe his next shift on Monday.
Not that spending time with his wife at home felt any more appealing.
He pushed the thoughts away, willing his mind to stay on you instead. He thought he can finish, at least he could feel the bottom of his gut tightening just a tiny fair bit.
He focused on the way your tongue felt as it swirled around him. How your lips stretched so softly to fit his shaft. How you practically drooled over his cock. How you—
You were noisier now that you knew you were alone, and it wasn't doing Alastor any favors. A rather loud moan cutting through his mind and it almost made the coil in his gut loosen completely, his shoulders tensing instead.
No, no this just wouldn't do. He had much more interesting plans tonight than to sit there and buy your silence with his cock.
His hand reached out once more, much less gentle than it was before. With less grace and care, Alastor's hand rested on the back of your neck, before harshly pushing you down as he bucked his hips up.
Your eyes were wide, a surge of panic filled you at the suddenness of the sensation. His dick hit the back of your throat and you tried to pull back immediately.
Alastor's other hand came up to the back of your head to push you back down. Your nose pressed firmly to his skin as his cock pushed past your throat.
Your arms strained as you tried to use your hands to push him away, but Alastor merely stepped on your fingers harsher to get you to stay.
"Ah, fuck, darling. Stay like that. Oh that's lovely." You thought you heard him say.
He was finally looking down at you. The way you heaved as you choked on him. The way your body spasmed to get away. The way panic filled your pretty tearful eyes.
Your throat tightening around him as you tried desperately to breathe felt miles better than whatever you were trying to do before, and it was exactly what he needed.
"Finally," He breathed out softly, almost in a moan, feeling the coil in his gut finally snap. He pressed you down, just the tiniest bit more and you felt his warm seed flow down your willing throat.
"There we go, dear." Alastor's harsh grip in your hair loosened, slowly petting through your locks. The hand on your neck remained, locking you in and rendering you unable to pull free.
Your eyes flickered up to him, part of you ready to beg for mercy, but one sight of his dazed smile made you pliant. Your body relaxed into his touch, simply letting him ride his high out with your bruised throat.
He must have just gotten carried away, that's all. Simply something new he never got to do with his stupid wife.
You felt his softening dick slowly pull out of you, his shaft dragging across your tongue and you finally pulled free with a choked gasp of air.
A gentle hand tipped your face back to meet Alastor's before you could be too dramatic. He pressed a gentle, chaste, kiss to the corner of your lips to calm you.
"You'll have to forgive me, my dear. Your body just makes me feel far too good—just couldn't hold back." The charm practically oozed from his smooth tongue.
Your gaze softened immediately. Your hands, now free from beneath his feet, made their way to his cheeks but he easily pulled back.
Really, what on earth made you think he'd let you touch him with filthy hands. Had you forgotten he'd been stepping on them this entire time? Kind of rude, if you'd ask him.
Not that any of those thoughts showed when Alastor simply, gently, helped you up to your feet by your elbow.
"Always so good to me, my dear. How I got so lucky to have a divine thing like you service me, I'd never know." He stood up with you, part of him did enjoy it whenever he got to look down on you in a more literal sense.
He pressed his body against yours, arms on the control panel behind you as he caged you in. His lips barely grazed your ears as he continued his sweet, sweet, praises. "Why couldn't you have shown up sooner, dear? I would have had it all."
You placed your hand on his chest, failing to notice the way he flinched at the touch. "You still could, you know? All you have to do is leave that naive little thing and I could give you this every night." Your voice was low, seductive, alluring.
Alastor held back an annoyed groan. This again. His eyes rolled, not that you could see it with his head nuzzling against your shoulder.
"We both know I treat you so much better." You continued, hand trailing up to scratch at the hair at the bottom of his neck. "And I'd never hold you back from that little hobby of yours either."
He chuckled at that, you could feel his lips at the base of your neck. "My dear, we've been through this." His kisses were soft, gentle, barely touching you, just like how he preferred it. "You don't have to feel so threatened by her, it's you that I want."
"Then why don't you—"
A gasp passed your lips.
"Leave her?" Alastor continued your sentence when you couldn't. His warm tongue licked over the reddened skin he bit. "I will, my dear, I will. Things are just a bit complicated at the moment."
More complicated than you knew, really.
He couldn't leave his wife because her dad was a big boss of his station. His ass would be out on the streets in minutes if he ever hurt that shy doll.
But he couldn't just kill you either. Not when your dad was the town sheriff.
He was lucky you were so obsessed with him that fucking you once in a while was enough to keep your pretty little mouth shut.
Honestly, just fuck the day you caught him slicing that man's flesh. That scum was hardly worth all the trouble he now has to go through.
"But I'm working on it." Alastor promised as he finally pulled away from you.
You gazed up into his warm, honest eyes. You adored the way he towered over you, really. It's like you fit together so perfectly—like puzzle pieces, was it? Was that how that cheesy line went.
"And then we can be together?" Your palms move to cup his face, and Alastor caught them on instinct before they could.
But you didn't notice, not when he corrected his actions so smoothly by pressing his lips to your knuckles instead—he tried his best to ignore how filthy they are, just to hide his mistake. "Of course, darling. In fact, I think I can work things out by tonight."
Your father was going to be alone at the station.
Your eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yes, my dear. Soon all of this hiding and sneaking around will be a thing of the past." He said, almost with the same amount of excitement as you.
He couldn't wait to toss your body in a ditch next to your old man's corpse.
"But I musn't be late"
He'll miss his chance to slit your father's throat if he lingered any longer.
"Soon you wouldn't have to be jealous of my wife, dear."
After all, the dead don't envy do they?
Alastor willed himself to humor you one last time, pressing his lips to yours before he bid you a good night.
He couldn't have rushed out that door any faster.
Who would have known trying to keep his cover would have eaten up so much of his time? He barely had any left to do the very act he was even trying to cover for.
Honestly, how troublesome.
But no matter, no matter.
He glanced back at the station. He could vaguely see your lovestruck figure through the window. He watched amusedly as you pathetically held your fingers to your lips, absolutely lost on cloud nine.
It won't be long until he was rid of you, and that fact was enough to lift his sour mood.
#tw: mentions of murder#tw: heavy manipulation#tw: cheating#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor smut#gn!reader#vien writes#I'm sorry i made alastor want to kill you#i just couldn't see him wanting a mistress for any other reason besides this#alastor only fucks to fuck with people in my book if that makes sense#if the smut seems choppy y'all can blame susan
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I am so inexplicably tired and vessel!Dazai has been haunting me so I will info dump about this dumb little AU because I can
This probably will not make sense, will make it seem like I don’t understand his character (who actually does? Besides his creator, obviously. Probably), or won’t have proper grammar but in the world of this shit, he will become a part of my personality if I do not write him down. So!
First, little stuffs about this AU because I can:
Dazai is trans here (FtM) because I kin him inexplicably and so am I, but he doesn’t experience that much gender dysphoria (mostly because he feels just a little disconnected from his body) and honestly what is the point of worrying about what body you have when the embodiment of the allure of death is currently using your body as her host? Exactly. There isn’t one. Also because I want to give this man a break on hating himself.
Basically everything about this AU is the exact same as the original, but Dazai is the vessel of a god, similarly to Chuuya. Some people do know about the whole kinda being a god thing, but not everyone. When he was Demon Prodigy, Mori kept and convinced Dazai to keep the vessel thing mostly a secret because it was better to keep as much information about him shrouded in mystery and basically make speaking his title mean the invitation of death, rather than let Dazai go and murder everyone as a vessel. I will sort of expand on this later. Probably.
Chuuya still has Arahabaki. He gets called ‘Baki’ in the rare times his name is mentioned in their world because I refuse to respect the god of destruction (Dazai started calling Arahabaki ‘Baki’ and Chuuya eventually found himself calling him that too). Dazai’s possessor’s ‘Machiko’, but might sometimes be called ‘Chiko’ or some other nickname instead.
Dazai is just slightly cannibalistic.
I ship Soukoku, which will probably be obvious by the way I write them. Neither revolves around the other, but they are both permanently drawn to one another.
Dazai struggles with skin picking in this au because he kinda craves the taste of blood thanks to Chiko so he does care a little bit more about his hygiene in this au so he doesn’t have anything to pick. His hands are very soft in his world. My man is moisturized 😚
So, Dazai.
He’s around seven years old. His life has been nothing but dehumanizing and cruel and cold. He’s being raised in a neighborhood of rich assholes who think they’re all better than one another because of meaningless, materialistic means. (Death will claim all of them in the end, so it doesn’t matter what they do, anyhow. He won’t say anything about them, though. If they need to hide from Her gaze, he won’t judge.) His parents are controlling and overbearing and want him to grow up to be some rich asshole’s trophy wife. He doesn’t want that to happen, but his body will not let him say anything to disappoint them. He can’t afford their ire; he’s seen what they do to people who think they can and the least he can say is that it looks painful.
He’s been raised by nannies and caretakers his entire life thus far and some of them were nice, but most of them just followed his parents orders to make him behave.
Modest, pretty, demure.
Modest, pretty, demure.
Those were the most important things for a little girl his age to learn. Of course. He is nothing, he is not human, if he doesn’t behave. If he doesn’t act modestly and polite. If the boys in the neighborhood tug on his skirt, he is to hold it still so they cannot expose him. If the girls in his private school pick on him for his doe eyes and thousand yard stare, he is to be reserved and accept their insults graciously and not respond to their taunts.
He is a monster if he raises his voice, or disobeys his parents or caretakers or teachers, or acts out of line—acts like a child. His purpose of being brought into the world is to grow up to serve his future husband and children and be pretty.
So he kills them.
The voice of death herself whispers in his ears at night, when the moon is full and bright, that they do not deserve their gifts, they do not deserve their gifts of breath and life.
So he takes them away like she says to.
He stands in the woods beyond the gated mansions in a white, blood splattered nightgown and a pair of what are probably Mary Jane’s, but he’s not for certain and white, just as blood splattered, socks. He doesn’t remember much of what he did, but he does not mind. The cool night, late summer breeze reaches his skin through the minuscule layers he wears. He has always run cold, kind of like what you would expect a corpse to feel like (they’re actually room temperature), and has yet to build the habit of halfway mummifying himself. Bad circulation, doctors had told him. How fun.
Here is where he sees her for the first time, the woman—the God—who changes his life forever, with the handle of one of his father’s expensive kitchen knives grasped in his right hand as the left toys with the seam of his dress. She’s beautiful. She speaks to him, but he does not remember all of what she says. He remembers “Machiko”. It must be her name. He also remembers her permitting him to call her a nickname, as he’s young and he deserves to choose what he calls his friend.
Chiko offers him her hand and Dazai’s left hand goes numb. As if puppeteered, he moves to take her hand and she smiles at him. For only the second or so time in his life, he feels warm.
Dazai learns a lot from her. He would kill without her influence, but she tells him to embrace death and its endless, inescapable dance and he does.
Perhaps too much.
Mori Ougai was a man, a doctor, whom was highly praised by rich folks he’d grown up around (and consequently been raised by after the murder of his parents). He had met the man before, who had said he was interesting and reminded him of himself. In his adulthood, Dazai was ashamed to have felt pride at the fact Mori found him intriguing, or that the man saw himself reflected in the shattered, blank soul of his.
At fourteen, his adoptive parents rushed him to the doctor another attempt at death. He woke up, hazy and exhausted, and strapped to a bed with an oxygen mask, IV in his arm, and a heart monitor. Machiko screamed at him, for his safety and his body, to not listen to the man in the white coat who offered him a reason to live, a purpose to life outside of being a vessel. Just like he’d subconsciously been searching for.
He did not listen to her.
Dazai would say he was built to be a mafioso. And it was easy enough to sever ties with his adoptive family—they weren’t too attached, anyways—and old life.
When he was fifteen years old, he met the most annoying person on earth; Chuuya Nakahara.
Every move the boy makes is so completely full of life and energy. Dazai would say he was envious, but he was not. Machiko was drawn to the boy, though, or—as he truly found out—she was drawn to Arahabaki. Death and destruction go hand in hand, he supposed. And it seems Dazai wasn’t the only one who felt that pull towards the other.
Boo. Feelings sucked. He wouldn’t say he had a crush on Chuuya, no, never, but he was drawn to the redhead like the pull of gravity said redhead controlled.
But the first time he had seen Corruption, seen the final form of Upon The Tainted Sorrow, Dazai had been mesmerized. For all his wit and bravado, he still had no explanation as to why he found this redheaded slug so enchanting, even seven years later.
Machiko still hailed over him, but she was not his puppeteer. She guided him and attempted to help him through inexplicably human issues, but she did not attempt to forcibly take control of him. If she was in charge of his body, it was entirely because he had allowed her too. He spoke with her on the regular—she was a mentor who hadn’t forced herself into that roll exactly as Mori had.
Machiko was the god of death, yet also the god of allure, of temptation, of beauty, and of yearning. Some called her the moon. Others simply didn’t know of her existence. It didn’t matter to Dazai. His mentor knew how to be merciful, despite the blood and desolation she craved.
Chuuya clearly remembered the day he’d discovered Dazai was also a vessel.
Things had been dangerous and he had still been injured from a mission Mori had sent them out on previously. He had been occupied by a horde of enemies when he’d lost track of Dazai amongst the commotion. Grunts were incapacitated or dead at his feet before he knew it.
Now, he would never admit it, but looking around and not finding the dark, sullen eye of his partner watching him from a safe distance had scared him. Made him anxious.
He pushed his way into a corridor that had been blocked by debris during the fight that he could almost sense Dazai’s shenanigans coming from and walked—maybe just a bit quicker than normal—until he saw bodies scattered and crimson pooling. In the center of this crop circle of cadaver was his partner, small, white, star-like marks twinkling across what very little skin was exposed to the open air, ripping out the throat of one of their enemies with his teeth. Blood soaked his clothes and his bandages.
Chuuya felt unreasonably calm, and oddly awestruck, at the sight.
And that’s all I can write 😚 ‘cause I am so tired. I dunno what else to say, ‘cause this is just about all my smooth little brain has let me know about the blorbos of today, but yeah. Thank you if you actually read all of this. :3333
Have a good day/night/morning/afternoon/evening!! Remember to drink water, eat, take your meds, all that.
Byeeeeee <3333
#tw: brief mention of su!c!de attempt#tw: mentions of death#tw: mentions of murder#tw: mentions of blood#bungou stray dogs#just to cover my bases#just in case#bungo stray dogs#bsd#dazai#dazai osamu#dazai bungou stray dogs#dazai osamu bsd#bsd dazai#dazai bsd#mori ougai#mori ougai bsd#bsd mori#mori bsd#chuuya#chūya#chuuya nakahara#chuuya nakahara bsd#chuuya bsd#bsd chuuya#soukoku#skk#bsd skk
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the thing about barton and his own 'foil' as she should technically be considered, as she is technically the complete opposite of him in every way that matters, is that sumire [ whom i have talked about a few times on here, albeit briefly, so i will give you a brief refresher on her and that is that... her character eventually commits these killings based on the twelve main tarot cards in a deck based on them not fitting her idea of what 'perfect' looks like (kind of like barton BUT much different at the same time) ] and barton used to know each other as they were best friends as kids — even if it was only for a few years.
and as strange as this may sound, a broken promise between them was partially the catalyst behind what started her descent into feeling this need to 'judge' people, which is quite the coincidence as it may seem. because where do most of her victims end up dying? in these settings where she has set up these 'mock trials' for people. so, i know that i said i would talk about how barton had inadvertently created a monster a longgg time ago, but i now am sharing it with you all. because although one cannot blame barton fully for her actions as sumire, of course, has to take responsibility for them herself; but this did play a part in being a catalyst for her feeling all of this resentment and hatred for the world / people around her that led up to her first murder.
which, as you might have it, was the chariot: a tarot card that symbolizes revenge, willpower, and essentially tries to subconsciously put off this message that you are moving in the 'right direction.' i don't think it's so much just the promise itself though that makes this important — it's also that barton himself essentially forgot about the promise he made to sumire, as terrible as that may sound. it actually kind of gives you more insight as to what was going on in barton's mind as a kid because he basically made sumire promise him this: that, if he ever got on the 'wrong path,' that sumire would be there to show him a better one. and that she would attempt to reconnect with him if they ever got separated somehow / give him a sign of some kind that she was still there, so he could meet her.
and i say that this provides more insight because i haven't really gone into depth about this, but barton has expressed this idea in one roleplay on here. + that is that he didn't want to end up like this. however, regardless of that statement, there is no washing away of all of the heinous things he's done and he chose to do them anyway. i'm just thinking about how messed up it is that sumire, up until the point where she started her murders, had casually been searching for barton because the way in which his victims were found was vaguely remiscent of the way that wesley used to kill his victims. + this meant that he was definitely on the wrong path and she would eventually end up on the wrong one too.
#OF MONSTERS AND MEN: musings.#ooc post.#AHH... nothing like a little silent hill music to get the creative juices flowing y'all / hj JSJSJ no but it is has been surprising helpful#in helping me come up with more details about what the context was behind this promise that barton made to sumire and why-#she was looking for him in the first place / started these murders in the first place for whatever reason (': i guess BC the music does#give off a unique sort of melancholy and making up more aspects of sumire's character makes me feel a bit like that because-#oh my gosh... is it kind of painful to think about someone remembering they made a promise with another as a kid but the other person-#completely forgetting about this promise in all of the darkness that consumed their life. and i'm not trying to be cheesy by saying-#that i just literally have no other way to say it than that barton literally got completely consumed by his blood-thirst / this twisted#urge he possessed in which he wanted to basically exercise his control over other people like wesley had done to his own victims and it's#like it all came full-circle sadly and i say 'sadly' BC even now the last thing that barton wants to be is like his father#but the family resemblance is unfortunately kind of there regardless and sumire's own father was a monster NGL so it's like#OMG. ladies gents and non-binary pals we are not getting out of this one without feeling a lot of complex emotions jsjsj#tw: mentions of murder#tw: mentions of violence#tw: mentions of toxic family dynamics.
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[ COMFORT ]: the sender, noticing a visibly upset receiver, solemnly moves to their side, and places a hand on their shoulder in an effort to comfort them. (pretend this from asuka/omorrow)
@omorrow Two months. His spirit had all but been repairing itself, trying to pull together the scattered fragments. To try and combat the onslaught of memories that ripped their way into the gap in his mind, filling it all in like some ripped tape reel and the piece was shoddily taped back in. He's woken screaming sometimes as he came to recall just how brutally he'd all but been ripped apart, Yubel stuffing themself into his body and burning like they were acidic to his very soul. He woke in cold sweats as he remembered the blood that now stained his hands. No matter how many times he tried washing them, it felt like he could still feel it dried underneath his fingernails. The vivid recollections of Ryo clutching at his chest, nails dug into the cloth so harsh that his knuckles had been turning white. Could hear the labored breaths and still his hands moved by another's will, calling another attack on the man that struggled to breathe, yet persisted. Ryo Marufuji died at his hands but he went out on his own terms. Amon Garam. He murdered the love of his life for the power that exodia granted. He can still feel the echoes of shock from Yubel, the depths of pain that they had reveled in, Amon was far from someone he should feel guilty for, that he should experience such sadness at the knowledge that he was dead. But he did. He couldn't explain why he broke into tears over that death, perhaps because he never wanted to kill. Much less have that type of blood on his hands. It was a sickening type of justice that had been dealt out, killing a murderer. Perhaps what hurt him the most was the fact his voice he could still speaking words that were laced with venom and killer intent. Amon's death had been anything but fast.
While he'd been cleared of bed rest, there was more than enough damage physically to heal on top of slowly processing all that had happened. He'd been visited by many, at least that's what the crystal beasts had told him, he'd awoken to his family waiting for him in the blank white walls of the hospital room that had surrounded him. A coma. That's what he got out of the entire encounter. Yet his body still ached and remained with bruised or even broken bones. He couldn't pick up a duel disk anytime soon. Most of his left arm was wrapped up. He knows why. Yubel had been planning to kill him when they had left his body, that trap card was supposed to be his death. And Judai had been the reason he wasn't dead. From what visit's he'd gotten from those back at Duel Academia. Judai was gone, presumed it anyways, missing just like all the other mysterious disappearances on that bizarre island. The crystal beasts could only fill him in on what they had witnessed in particular. Everyone, was brought back from death, placed back besides a few. Ryo was alive now but the damage he sustained... He must have been out of it, so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't realized the room door open. Visiting hours were bound to be over soon, if it wasn't for Amethyst Cat, he might have jumped in his seat upon the hand settling upon his shoulder. Sea green eyes are what greet the other, the edges of acidic orange still have a faint visible tint around the very edges. Teal hair a bit messy given it had grown out a bit more, his lips part to utter the name of the person who had approached him. Gaze softening.
"Asuka." He had wondered if she would visit, while they hadn't truly ever interacted before, he'd wanted to but with all the chaos that came to consume the island and the genuine excitement he'd had over finding someone alike himself, he'd missed out on a lot of opportunity to interact with others. But he knew that she was one of the few that ended up being whispered about and rumors that even caught his attention, mostly about her talent as a duelist but considering she'd followed after Judai... She was a dear friend to the brunette and suffering just as much if not more than he was, though in his general opinion everyone else had been worse off. To experience...He doesn't want to continue that train of thought as he exhales deeply, his wrapped hand shakily setting upon her own hand as he speaks. "How...are you doing?"
#omorrow#answered#⋆✴︎˚。⋆ Crystal Conclave - Season 4#TW: Dark themes#TW: Mentions of murder#TW: Mentions of death
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closed starter @jemmaxlawson
location: his townhouse
He sat on the sofa, his blue eyes filled with a storm of emotions as he faced Jemma. Kian's jaw clenched, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. He had to tell her, she was his sister and deserved to know it. So why did he feel shitty for having to make this confession? "I killed someone during the blackout," he said, before he could lose his nerves. "It was Armi's ex." He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. "He tried to kill her, Jemma. I couldn't... I couldn't let that happen. So I shot him." His shoulders slumped, the guilt evident in every line of his body. "I know I shouldn't feel this way. He was going to hurt her, maybe even kill her. But I can't shake this feeling. It's eating me up inside. I'd do it again to protect her, but God, I never thought I'd have blood on my hands."
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the american public school system is going places
....and it sure isn't anywhere good. warning: gun, attempted murder, & sexual assault mentions yes, this is a rant. if this is illegible to you, then congratulations, you're experiencing what it's like to read my fellow students writing.
lemme tell you all about the failure of an education system mine is. because trust me, it's bad.
ENGLISH & MATH 1------------------- There were kids in my 8TH GRADE language arts class who got stumped on a really hard word. the word? AVALANCHE. you know, the word meaning, at it's simplest, THINGS LIKE ROCKS AND SNOW FALLING DOWN A MOUNTAIN we had to do these two programs because the kids in the ENTIRE SCHOOL SYSTEM were so far behind "because of covid" the programs were one math and one LA, and we were told "students who show they don't need it will stop at some point while students who do will be taken out" these interfered with our actual learning. that's right, they did these IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR CLASSES. AND THEY NEVER EVEN STOPPED. like most of the kids didn't even do them in the first place we weren't allowed to listen to music while we did it. we were required to sit in SILENCE as we did these shitshows, which hindered a LOT of kids because some of us need sound to be able to focus. the english program told me that the verb "serve" (as in, to serve in the military) was not a verb. the math program forced you to do math their way, which is really bad when you've got kids who are able to do that same math a different way and are being marked as failures for no fucking reason. oh yeah, and the school computers have grammarly installed. by the admins. the administrators installed grammarly on our computers and set them up. they're encouraging us to use grammarly. the school.
[ID: An image labeled "Extensions", listing extensions on a school computer installed by the school administrators. The extensions included in the image are "Equatio," "Gaggle," "GoGuardian," "GoGuardian License," "Google Docs Offline," Google Keep Chrome Extension," and "Grammarly: AI Writing and..." End ID.] SCHOOL SAFETY 2------------------- PFFT SAFETY, MY ASS fun fact: there was a bag of ammunition found on the track, and i'm pretty sure a gun in a car. did they send us home once they found out there was no immediate threat? no. did they move us to safer locations when the discovery of such items was made? no. there's been rumors that kids that have been expelled last year are returning this year. those kids are expelled for reasons like attempted murder and sexual assault. and people are saying they're coming back. i'll update this if they do or not.
TEACHERS AND DISCIPLINE 3------------------------------ like school safety, discipline doesn't exist. or, it does, but it's so weak because i guess the school is afraid of upsetting parents or something, they don't actually punish kids the way they need to, and punish kids who don't need to be punished (you come to class late again because you were in the bathroom because we don't let you go for the first twenty minutes of class? lunch detention for you.), and seemingly have never heard of the term "praise" before. this leads to kids not caring and giving up, because there's no reason to try and the punishments mean nothing. teachers are quitting their jobs left and right because they just can't deal with the kids being disruptive and not doing their work because they can get away with it no matter how strict or lenient the teacher is. this is a problem for students who actually try, because now we can't focus, we get bad grades, we're grouped with the students who purposely don't learn, and now we don't care either and don't see the point in trying to learn anymore. one of the counselors place blame on hurting students. the person kids are expected to talk to when having a hard time (and required to have as their counselor by some stupid rule) is practically telling students their struggles are all their fault. i've heard a girl was raped and she was told it was her fault by that counselor. and the admins didn't stop to think for even a second "hey maybe we shouldn't keep this counselor, they're kinda sorta not doing their job" SCHEDULE 4----------- last year, they changed the middle school schedule to "match the high school" this meant we have five minutes to get to each class (not needed when 90% of your classes are five tiles across the hall), classes are an hour at most (one of the classes was an 1:30 instead of 1 hour) since classes are so much shorter, teachers can't even get through all of their lessons or even all of their UNITS before the school year ends. CONCLUSION 5-------------- now, let's do some thinking, something i don't think any of the kids in this damned school do. with the lack of safety, reason to try, inability to finish the units we need to finish, and failure to teach kids effectively, what do you think that causes? if you guessed "under-educated adults", you're correct! congratulations!
#☼︎ rants#fuck the school system#american school system#tw: gun mention#tw: r*pe#tw: mentions of murder
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Okay, so... Peppino has a photo in his house of himself posing with a guy who looks similar to him. That guy is the Pizza Maniac, and he's apparently Peppino's cousin:
The official Pizza Tower Twitter account posted this art of Pizza Maniac on January 9th, 2023. This would be referenced later in The Noise update. Apparently "Pizza Maniac" is a bootleg ripoff of Pizza Tower, but... I can't find any information on it. My Google-fu is apparently not strong enough.
I only know that, according to McPig's Ancient Aliens stream, the main character of Pizza Maniac - who is referred to as "The Pizza Maniac" - exists in the Pizza Tower universe as Peppino's mentally ill cousin who just escaped an insane asylum. He wants to kill Peppino and wear his skin, in order to pretend to be him. Judging by the photo in Peppino's house, however, it seems Peppino and the Maniac were close at one point. Makes sense, seeing how they're family. I just wonder how that changed so drastically...
But more importantly, I really wanna know where McPig found the "Pizza Maniac" game because now I'm genuinely interested in learning about this weird Peppino wannabe.
EDIT: I got some information wrong and corrected my words accordingly. Sorry!
#pizza tower#not my art#peppino spaghetti#pizza maniac#discussion#WHO IS THIS GUY#HE SCARES ME#tw: mentions of murder#tw: mentions of death#tw: mentions of violence
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A Percy Weasley AU idea
Voldemort wins and people are hunted down and killed. In a desperate attempt to right the story, Percy, along with Luna (and maybe some others idk) do some rituals or something to be sent back in time to actually defeat Voldemort.
How do you think that would play out?
Would Percy be the only one to be sent back or will others be as well (ex. Luna)?
Would he stay in the body he was originally in or will he be sent into his childhood body (depending on when he gets sent back to)?
How would his relationships with others change? For example, his family?
Since his story has now changed due to knowledge of the future, would anyone else’s story change? (Ex. If he gets sent back to POA, or at least before Scabber’s is revealed at Peter, how would he deal with that?)
Ect…
Wow, that's a lot to answer! 🙃 I'll try my best, but be warned that this is all purely speculation, and there's some definite bias here because of my headcanons.
I'm going to put this under the cut due to length.
If we're being "realistic" (as much as possible), then Luna isn't going to be a part of this, and Percy is going to stay in his adult body.
It's super fun to read fanfiction stories where Luna is involved & the characters wake up in the body of their younger selves, because it affects their interactions and relationships with other characters, so please feel free to keep writing this type of thing if it appeals to you. However, I don't think it would actually play out like that.
I love Luna - she's one of my favorite characters - but her personality in canon just doesn't fit into this storyline. Look at her conversation with Harry in Book 5:
“Have you . . .” he began. “I mean, who . . . has anyone you’ve known ever died?” “Yes,” said Luna simply, “my mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine.” “I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled. “Yes, it was rather horrible,” said Luna conversationally. “I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?” “Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the veil, didn’t you?” “You mean . . .” “In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all. You heard them.”
She doesn't dwell on the past, and her absolute belief in seeing her loved ones again after death would prevent her from trying to mess with fate. For all they know, going back in time could make things worse (i.e. Voldemort could take over all of Europe, he could torture everyone into permanent madness instead of killing them, etc.), and Luna just doesn't have the reckless motivation to risk it.
Percy, on the other hand, would 100% be reckless enough if he loses his sibling(s) like he lost Fred in the books. If his siblings are all still alive, then Percy's not going back in time either, but if one or more of them dies (particularly around Percy so he feels guilty about it), then he wouldn't be thinking clearly. He would blame himself and be out for blood like we saw in Book 7:
Rounding the corner, Percy let out a bull-like roar: “ROOKWOOD!” and sprinted off in the direction of a tall man, who was pursuing a couple of students.
In this situation, he doesn't care that he could potentially make things worse; he's going anyway.
The most likely person to go with him is actually Ron. If Voldemort wins, chances are that Harry is dead, and Ron is left in a very similar state to Percy - guilt and grief are swallowing him whole, and he's willing to take some serious risks, like we also saw in Book 7:
...he saw that Hermione was trying to restrain Ron, to stop him running after Percy. “Listen to me—LISTEN RON !” “I wanna help— I wanna kill Death Eaters— ” His face was contorted, smeared with dust and smoke, and he was shaking with rage and grief.
Hermione would likely be wary of going back because she is rational enough to know it's a huge risk, but she goes with them anyway, because she's not abandoning Ron (especially if they may get Harry back).
Ron and Percy would have some serious baggage to work through (especially if Ron felt like Percy was trying to take Harry's place in their trio), and they would likely want to approach the situation in vastly different ways, so there would be plenty of conflict.
Since they probably stay in their same bodies, they avoid interacting with anyone else as much as possible, because they know how dangerous it would be for their younger selves if they were seen:
Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time…. Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!
Therefore, we wouldn't see too much interaction between them and other characters (besides each other). However, we might see some interaction between Percy & Dumbledore (because it might eventually be necessary to involve him), which would be interesting since Percy had legitimate reasons not to trust Dumbledore (even though he was telling the truth about Voldemort).
They likely decide to hunt down the Horcruxes themselves (since Ron & Hermione know where they are and how to destroy them). In order to do so, they sneak into Hogwarts and Ron enters the Chamber of Secrets (by mimicking Harry's Parseltongue) to get the Basilisk's fang to destroy the Horcruxes.
The fun part of the story would be that some of the Horcruxes are actually more difficult to get when they're in the past. For example, one is in Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts, but if she's still in Azkaban, then they can't use Polyjuice to look like her, which causes complications (and I headcanon that Percy would use the Imperius Curse at that point).
It really depends on what year they go back in time to though. I think Percy & Hermione would have thought very carefully about it and decided to go back to the summer after Book 3; they want to stop Voldemort from being completely ressurected, but they don't want to stop Wormtail from escaping, because they need him to find Voldemort's shell of a being so Harry can eventually kill it:
“I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn’t then fear that I might never regain my powers. . . . Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour . . . I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess . . . and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me. . . .”
I also imagine that Percy would want to save Cedric too, because I headcanon that they were friends. Therefore, the best course of action is to stop Barty Jr. from escaping and returning to Voldemort's side (because he sets everything in motion for Voldemort's return). This wouldn't be too difficult if they returned right at the beginning of the summer, because Percy would be able to easily access Mr. Crouch's house (where Barty Jr. is still under the Imperius Curse) by pretending to be his younger self (because Mr. Crouch was not paying attention enough to notice a few years difference in his age).
I honestly think Percy would murder Barty Jr. He may pretend that he wouldn't (for Hermione and Ron's sake), but Percy has a very personal motivation for this - not only did Barty kill Cedric, but he also almost destroyed Percy's career, and it's my headcanon that he hurt Percy. Plus, Percy knows that Barty is a flight risk, since he escaped from Azkaban, and he's not going to take any chances. He probably pretends it was self defense with Hermione and Ron, but he's too far gone to feel guilty by then. (I love darkish Percy, by the way; he's not a bad person, but once he loses someone he loves, I can see him spiraling out, because it's clear in canon that Percy feels things so deeply).
If Barty Jr. is dead, then Harry never enters the Triwizard Tournament, and this is where plenty of things change. For starters, one of the other competitors wins (likely Viktor, because Cedric wouldn't get any heads up about the dragons or the egg without Harry's involvement), so Cedric lives, and Harry never gives Fred and George money for their joke shop. This forces the twins to wait several more years to save enough, so they don't drop out of school and actually graduate. Umbridge doesn't get involved at Hogwarts, because there's no Dark Lord returning so the Ministry doesn't care what Dumbledore is doing; Sirius lives because Voldemort doesn't return enough for him to give Harry visions; Dumbledore lives because Draco never becomes a Death Eater; and none of the people/creatures in Book 7 die because all the Death Eaters in Azkaban don't escape/come back together.
Interestingly enough, there would be a ripple effect for some other characters as well. I highly doubt Remus would marry Tonks if Sirius was alive (he seemed perfectly content to stay at Grimmauld Place with him); Bill doesn't move back to England to work at Gringotts and help with the war, so he never dates and marries Fleur; and when Dumbledore eventually tells Harry that he has to die to permanently defeat Voldemort, Harry's not as likely to listen. He's probably living with Sirius, who would fight against the suicide thing, tooth and nail. Plus, if there's no war going on because Voldemort wasn't fully resurrected, then there's no battles or deaths, particularly ones that are close to Harry. Harry's also living in a relatively happy and stable home with Sirius and Remus, so his motivation for committing suicide (based off only Dumbledore's word) is not really there.
This actually doesn't change much though, except that Voldemort finds a way to return much later on (without any other Horcruxes), but everyone is better prepared because they're adults/possibly Aurors. Harry fights him, let's himself be killed, and then kills Voldemort. Done. A few other people might die in the crossfire, but it's impossible to guess who, especially if Dumbledore is still around.
Wow, that was a lot! 😱
But we're still not done! 🤣 Where are the older versions of Percy, Hermione, and Ron after all this?
They don't disappear when their mission is complete, but they can't go back to their old lives either (since their younger selves are still living the happier version). It's possible that Percy leaves his younger self a note, but that's about it.
I think Hermione and Ron just move to a different country to live a new life, and Percy does the same, but I can actually picture Percy choosing to live a Muggle life after everything that's happened (if he doesn't die trying to destroy the Horcruxes, because he was probably hoping for that).
Overall, I think the whole ordeal gives Ron & Hermione closure; they saved Harry (and Fred), but they lost them anyway in a different sense, because they can't be a part of their lives. They've spent so long dedicating their lives to Harry, but now they have to learn to live for themselves and let him go. It's bittersweet.
Percy's arc is a little darker/sadder. He has to face the fact that he's willing to go to extreme lengths to prevent his family's death, and he has to grapple with his own guilt, conscience, and mental health issues. He also has to learn to forgive himself and move on, which means letting go of his family once and for all.
I know everyone thinks that Percy has to reconnect with the Weasleys to be happy, but I don't really believe so. Especially if his younger self is still around, then Percy gets a free pass to break away from a family that was never truly going to be healthy for him (see this and this post). He learns that he can love them and still leave without resentment or anger. It's kind of like the lyrics to a Shinedown song: "Sometimes goodbye is a second chance."
He has to start over and figure out who he is now and what he wants out of life. Perhaps he ends up adopting children in the Muggle world. Regardless, he ultimately finds himself, and he finds peace.
Thanks for the ask! 😊
#ask me#anon ask#this was very long#AU#percy weasley#percy weasley defense squad#time travel au#ron weasley#hp#canon divergent au#voldemort wins au#my thoughts#my opinion#my headcanons#this was a lot#tw: mentions of murder
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Behind The Scenes...

(The following post mentions the idea of murder. Please keep your own mental health in mind and proceed with caution)
Newcrest to Glimmerbrooke call, multiple times
New Moon Palace, Newcrest, 6:45pm


Emma: Please pick up, please pick up.
Imperial Palace, Glimmerbrooke, 8:45pm
*phone ringing*





Jonas: Emma?
*answers phone*

Emma: Uncle Jo, I’m so scared, please, please you have to help me.
Jonas: Woah, woah, slow down. What’s wrong?
Emma: They’re going to kill me!

Jonas: What? Who’s going to kill you?
Emma: The King and Queen. They said they were going to kill me!
Jonas: You mean Stefano and Justine?

Emma: Yes! Please help!
Jonas: Slow down, Emma, and tell me exactly what happened so I can tell the Empress.
Emma: They were talking in the sitting room, I was walking past on my way to the kitchen. The King- Stefano- was yelling about something, and I didn’t want him to storm out of the room, see me there, and take it out on me, so I hid behind one of the doors. They were talking about Grandfather, about how he got captured by the Empress. Stefano was really mad. Is that true?

Jonas: Yes, it’s true. We have him in custody here. What happened next?
Emma: Stefano was talking about using me to trade for Dami if you guys find him first-
Jonas: Find him?

Emma: They sent him away to train with the Windenburg military, nobody knows where he is, now that Windenburg has fallen.
Jonas: Okay… keep going.
Emma: Then Justine said I would be a worthless hostage and they should just kill me.

Jonas: Is that exactly what they said?
Emma: She said “get rid of her, people die all the time.”
Jonas: Oh…

Emma: I’m going to die. They’re going to kill me, oh my god!
Jonas: Emma, calm down. I’m going to call an emergency council meeting and get them to agree to invade Newcrest. I need you to do everything you can to avoid them until we get there. Lock your door, tell that servant who got you this phone to sneak you food and water, and do not antagonize them in any way.
Emma: (shakily) Okay…

Jonas: We’re gonna get you out of there, I promise. No one is going to hurt you.
Emma: Please hurry, Uncle Jo.
Jonas: I’m getting up and summoning the council right now, okay? We’ll be there soon.

Emma: Okay…
Jonas: Stay safe, love you, Bug.
Emma: I’ll try, love you, Uncle Jo.

#tw: war#tw:war#tw: mentions of murder#ts4#ivanov legacy#ts4 simblr#ts4 legacy#behind the scenes#princess emma#prince jonas
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For you
I realized a typo, its meant to say "love" XD

I'm working on a larger piece for another fandom "At dead of Night" but I wanted to make some good Amen (Owen x Amy) and thought about a sweet scene of Owen being an awkward guy wanting to thank and totally not impress Amy- by giving her something nice
One of my friends, Cosmicsyntome/Intergalactic mom, drew a lovely Amy/Amyrose drawing for me which I adore, and they created Blue Berrymore! I named them and thought Owen probably made it for Amy as a gift. Here is the post: Link
Its a bit tragic considering their friendship will fall and things will lead up to Amy's eventual death at the hands of the Handeemen. At least Owen got to spend some time with her in the "Cannon" universe.
#hello puppets#owen gubberson#owen x oc#hello puppets midnightshow#Amy Kruber (OC)#Amyrose Kruber (OC)#I do wonder if Amy would have try to get close with Owen if she knew what he was up to#or that his creations would be her demise#either way their story is tragic#tw:mentions of implied murder#tw: mentions of murder
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okay, so i know this is a million years late, BUT we're just going to act like i just posted that post about how i believe barton would actually come to peace with death rather quickly in the event that he was dying okok / j [ahahhh, i'm just messing around with you all (': but anyways, allow me to get back into talking about it; like i'm sure you all are reading this for LOL]
nahhh, but i honestly was working on this for a little bit longer than i thought because i wanted time to really try to explain my thought process the best i could, you know? because that is not the kind of thing that people would probably expect from a villain character... though, with good reason, of course. and the fact that barton is actually afraid of dying does make it a little more unexpected, in my humble opinion. however, i promise that everything about this will make sense by the time i'm done explaining it.
so, no matter the scenario, i've always seen barton as a character who's very stubborn and who's resolve and/or goal to 'fix' as many people as he can is the right one most if not all the time. this is, of course, due to a variety of factors: one being that this sort of ideology was introduced to barton at a young age, and he never learned how to 'break out of it' so-to-speak (though he knew it was harmful). another one is that he's been exposed to a lot of terrible sights over the years and believes that humanity isn't inherently good, like batman, for example.
no. i'd say that barton is much more pessimistic and tends to expect the worst out of people automatically. as a result, this has kind of implemented the delusion upon him that 'well, if everyone's already bad anyways, then who's to say that these people don't in some way maybe deserve it?' so yeah. that second thing is a lot to unpack there on its own, i believe, but that is the general basis of what kind of character he is.
but here comes the double-layered part of it: barton had never wanted for his life to turn out this way, with him self-sabotaging and hurting people all throughout it. he sees 'normal' people after all, especially those who are happy and often becomes jealous of what they have, in fact. barton had fallen into the unfortunate trap of growing up in a household that praised him for hurting people... and when he was introduced to winslow, it felt like he'd gotten whiplash because he was nothing like wesley.
he couldn't break out of that terrible way of thinking, but of course, one can't blame everything on their past and must take responsibility for what they're doing. barton in this scenario of dying chose to go down a path of becoming a god damn serial killer just like his father; effectively becoming similar to him in some ways even though he didn't want to. and at his time of dying, i think that barton would have this moment of clarity that is a bit complex, but that i'll try to explain the best i can here.
this would be that he hasn't done any 'good' in his life much, if at all, but in the event that barton had time to spend before he died and was aware he would... he could do one good thing, and that would be to — although this wouldn't even begin to make up for everything he put them through, barton wouldn't be expecting that or their forgiveness — make his kids promise to break that cycle of violence in their family because they could still make something good of themselves.
they'd still have their whole life ahead of themselves, after all. barton wouldn't be claiming that it'd be easy or anything like that, but he'd want for them to be able to live a simple life like he secretly wanted to. and it'd be alright if they only thought of barton once in a while, or even never again because he knows that what he's done to them can't be undone. but the thing about death is that it makes you realize stuff like what you put out into the world is what you'll get back; and you have to do this life right, because you only get to live it once.
so, yeah, he wouldn't have any unreasonable expectations that he'd be making up with them or act like he's a saint now because he's doing this. but he could at least do this one thing for them after an adjustment period because facing your own mortality is probably scary, as i can imagine.
and it'd make anyone really think about what they want their legacy to be. and does barton want his to be his kids continuing the family business by killing people + thus condemning themselves to a life of staying awake late at night, just like him, thinking about what could've been? no, though it might take him some time to realize that, too.
now, if barton was dying suddenly and didn't have much time to do anything, then things would be very different. if any of his kids were present for it, then he'd tell them not to cry and that they'll be okay without him. probably better, actually, because barton believes he's never been the 'nurturing' type. but he'd ask them to grant a request for him and that would be to live the rest of their life/lives in a way that they could be proud of. with anyone else, i think that barton would come to peace with it by saying that he's done a lot of things he regrets (again, a moment of clarity) but one of the best things he ever did was have his kids.
so, telling them to pass on a message for him that he loves them and accepting it because he's just caused suffering + as well felt like he'd been suffering for a good portion of his life, so maybe it was just... time for him to move on? that'd be the way he'd react to that. which is... yeahhh, it's got a little bit of a kick to it, but once again; complexity is basically barton's middle name and he's not going to expect anyone to treat him any differently for doing this.
even in death, i don't think barton would want pity and would likely laugh at himself for thinking this would 'never happen to him,' as a matter of fact. but he would be genuinely calm and sentimental in a way that's very rare for him. so, yeah.
this was one long ass analysis, but if you made it to the bottom, i want to say that i appreciate you and love you to the bottom of my heart MUAHHH!! y'all are amazing and i just want to say RPing with my moots on here is always a blast for me 🩷 plus, i'm so honored that you're interested in my probably overcomplicated (LOL i kiddd, but IDK. he might be) OC that i made based off of a comic book batman villain that's appeared in like... two batman comics, haha. it really makes my heart happy.
#OF MONSTERS AND MEN: musings.#YOUR NEED GREW TEETH: character study.#ooc post.#tw: mentions of murder#tw: mental illness#tw: mentions of violence.#tw: trauma.#tw: allusions to / mentions of child abuse.#i think that may be all the tags i need here but PLS let me know if you'd like me to include something more!#tw: death
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🕯️ lola :)
One day. One day I'll actually get her. Even though it's fun to play this little game, eventually it'll have to end. The consequences of that will come but I think it's all worth it. I told her I'd kill her one day anyways, so what if people get mad about it. I think she has settled herself into a blissful unawareness, she won't even see it coming. It'll be such a great gift I could give her. It only makes sense, since most people don't escape me more than twice
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closed starter @alcrayildiz
location: somewhere in midtown
These days, his mind was a million miles away as he went about his day. What happened with Sean was always at the back of his mind. It wasn't that he was afraid of the consequences—he was more worried that Armi might try to take the fall. He wouldn't let her. This one was on him. He'd murdered the piece of shit and he would take the fall—if it ever came to that. Rounding a corner, he nearly crashed into Alara. "Shit. Sorry," Kian said as he avoided the collision. "Are you okay? Sorry, I've been thinking about inventory," he added, clearly lying through his teeth.
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alrighty besties, these have some mystery and shit but also dark themes- so please don't read if you don't like darker themes-
The police sirens were still echoing at the back. The corpse would definitely need a post mortem - or at least according to the laws it would.
And Yumi in fact hated this whole thing - the corpse being of her sister. Her eyes were attached to the corpse and she can't even run up to that dead body which once was alive.
Even though there was some distance between the corpse, she could see the differences. It had a small thin line on her neck. Which was neat since it was barely noticeable.
Of course, this wasn't a matter of someone killing themselves. This was a murder. Sure there were a few scars on her hand which probably the killers tried to make her look like she did it by herself, but alas, that was a poor attempt.
"This is a murder-" "I know." The woman spoke. It was well aware, that Charlie would know that. What was Yumi doing? Perhaps making a fool out of herself.
"If so, then we can investigate it, right Charl?" The tall woman remained silent, she bit her lip.
"No." "...no? Why not-"
Charlie took a deep breath, her fingers running through her face as she let out a sigh. "You know that everyone here is bought with money, right? That over here any one can die. There's no such thing as justice over here."
"I too have influence-"
Yumi was shot with a look. "Oh? Darling, you don't have enough influence yet. What are you? A CEO? Yes, that's right you are but you have a spokes person for you. Doesn't really matter because that bastard has more of influence then you do. Starting to model? Yes, you will get some recognition. Yes, people are will to die for you - well your body and you can tell them lies, but till how long? Not like, you will become supermodel in one day."
She took a deep breath before looking at Yumi. "Yes, true you helped Sophie with half of the cases, that you got the info, but this? Darling just no. It might cost you your life."
"I am ready for that." Of course, Yumi would be determined. Once she made up her mind there was no way that she would let that mystery go. Especially right now.
"Are you going to stop me-?" "Hon, I know I can't."
Charlie smiled at the child - well know a legal adult. "I will get back to you with details when the piece of shit tells us some info. Though it might take a day or two."
Yumi's frowned, a day or two? That's a long time. "At least tell me something useful-"
"Sorry hon, can't do that right now. I have to go."
And Yumi was back with her thoughts. To pin point on who had murdered her sister. The motive was clear, it had to be related to be one of her cases, the cons of being a lawyer.
She took one look at the corpse of her sister, pale as ever. Her eyes closed. Blood on her black coat as she was carried to the ambulance, for God knows what.
Even if they were to classify the case as murder, they'd just find a random person and make them view the killer by some random bullshit which would somehow close the case.
Or maybe they would not even bother doing that. Simply classify it as unsolved.
There were many possibilities and she didn't know in which one to look at.

@yourlocalintrovertt , @starboo-txt , @hollowedart
#tw: mentions of sh#tw: slight gore?#tw: dead body#tw: mentions of death#tw: mentions of murder#mochi writes#mochi's ocs#god the tw tags make this look like#idk-#this seems bad lmao
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you made the wine, now drink your cup || kat & patrick
WHO: Kat Jones @drkatjones & Patrick Flanagan
WHERE: PSU Campus
WHEN: Monday the 21st of October
WHY: Blissfully unaware of Patrick's release and his new job, Kat accidentally finds out the hard way that he's there, at the same workplace as her.
WARNINGS: TW: Mentions of drugs and criminal behavior
PATRICK had no idea how he'd even gotten so lucky with this position. To go from being in prison, to being headhunted and given a job at PSU as a business management professor was really something he hadn't expected. Picking up trash on the side of the road seemed more like it. His mother would've been proud that he finally had a normal 9-5 job. As he stood there, in front of the class, teaching, he couldn't help but feel a little conscious still. He'd been doing it for a month, and he knew that sometimes, his heavy Scottish accent could get in the way of the young students understanding him. The sleeves of his light blue dress shirt were rolled up, and he was pointing towards the whiteboard that had scribbles all over it. "Alright, if you've all noted this down, then I'm gonna end the lesson here," As the students started to pack up and leave the room, Patrick closed down his laptop until he remembered a thing. "And don't forget to hand in your essays on Friday! I know it's about to be the weekend, and you've all got plenty of partying going down, but it counts for 25% of your overall grade."
KAT was running late, something she tried to avoid at all costs, but sometimes she got a little too caught up in her work. Apparently, cases and papers held her attention just the same. Which was good, it made the transition for FBI Profiler to Psychology Professor a lot less jarring, especially since she still got to do the research she loved. Speaking of, she was late to a meeting about her latest case study for a criminal psychology student. Taking a shortcut through the Business and Marketing department she waved at a couple other professors and students she recognized, shockingly there was a lot of crossover between the two departments. As she approached a door at the end of the hall the voice she heard stopped her in her tracks. Was she dreaming? No, this was real, she was really walking down this hallway, she was really on her way to a meeting that she was really late for. But she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall anyway, just incase, and when the voice, "I'm gonna end the lesson here. She's recognize that accent, that tonality, that cadance, anywhere. Even if she didn't remember everything, she would rememer... him. Without realizing, he feet took her to the doorway and there he was. Students saying excuse me as they passed her on their way out. The swirling sensation in her stomach, the fluttering of her heartbeat. Now she knew she wasn't dreaming. In her dreams he always looked like that first night he called her into his office but this version of him, he looked different, the same but not. Again her feet carried her closer, until she was so much closer to him than she ever thought she would be again and in her mind she saw his smile. Until it was replaced with a face full of pain, pain that she had caused. "Patrick?" She finally said, terrified and, God help her, excited.
PATRICK was busy, packing away his laptop into his messenger bag, along with the folder of papers that he kept organized. It was weird; he'd always been the type of person to have files, and to keep papers organized; but they were typically on people who owed him money, or had run off with the drugs that he'd been working on getting delivered. Every single detail of the mule would have been neatly noted down, so that Patrick could know exactly where they'd run off to. After having taken care of them, the papers would've been destroyed and all evidence would be gone; this time around, he didn't have to worry about that. The papers now just contained diagrams and examples of successful businesses. What a contrast, he thought to himself. The sound of the students making their way out, and his eyes being stuck on getting his belongs packed away, had him completely unaware of who was inching closer and closer to him. Until he heard his name in that extremely familiar voice that he both loved and loathed. His head snapped up and he saw her. Hazel. No. Kat? Was that actually her name? It must've been, they'd said it in court! His heart dropped to his stomach. That had been the last time he'd seen her, before he'd gotten locked up for two years. She looked the same. She was as gorgeous as ever. But then all the memories came flooding back. The eye contact was just like in the courtroom, except he wasn't in handcuffs right now. What the hell was happening? Was he getting busted again? He hadn't done anything this time! "Excuse me." He muttered, draping his bag over his shoulder and making a bee line to the door. He was not about to fall into an arrest-trap again!
KAT was so stunned that she barely registered him continuing to pack up his things. It wasn't until he spoke, well barely spoke, that her brain kicked back on but he was walking away so fast and she didn't want him to leave yet. But she wasn't sure why, that was a lie, she knew exactly why but she was not willing to say it, not even just to herself. "Patrick, please..." She tried to jog to him but her injuries, while much better than they were a few months ago, still gave her trouble if she moved too quickly. She winced at the sharpness in her back and found herself leaning against a chair to steady herself. "I can't run after you." She figured given the last time they saw each other, was him finding out who she really was, maybe he was concerned she was here for him. "I didn't know you were here, I- I'm a professor here now." She explained, wincing again as she stood up and started walking, using the backs of the chairs to help her as she did. "I'm just a professor." Jesus, why would he believe her?
PATRICK couldn't believe it. Two years ago, he'd been busted for using his business as cover-up for money laundering and drug dealing, and on top of that, been charged with being an accomplice in multiple crimes committed by the gang back home in Glasgow - all thanks to Hazel- Kat! She'd been undercover the entire time she'd worked for him, and he had been completely oblivious to it, despite the crazy amount of background checking that was done, before offering her the job. He'd let her in; not just into the company, but he'd allowed her to get to know him, in ways that he otherwise wouldn't. He wanted to run, because he was sure an entire SWAT-team was about to break in, despite the fact that he hadn't actually committed any crimes since being released. "Do you actually expect me to believe that?" He asked, his voice stern as he turned around. "Do you think I'm that stupid?" His accent became stronger, the angrier he got. "Aye, you must actually think I'm so daft, I'd fall for that. But you don't have anything on me now, okay? You can tell your little undercover unit that I was asked to come here and teach - you got it?"
KAT was under pressure, she needed to find a way to get him to talk to her, to trust her. If she wasn't in such a heightened state she could have taken some time to reflect and process on why?, why did she need this man to trust her again, why? why? why? But for now all of her brain power was going to getting him to stay. First, she needed to get herself in front of him instead of several paces behind. So she pushed through the pain, pain she knew she was going to have to explain and contend with at physical therapy this week, and moved as fast as she could to the doorway, to block it. Now he could move past her, but she was banking on their past connection, the feelings he'd had, still being there. Even if just a little. "You don't trust me, good, you shouldn't. Not after..." She trailed off before standing up straighter, "Not after I deceived you for a year." If she couldn't say then he'd never respect her and he'd be right not to. "So let me prove to you that I'm not an FBI agent anymore."So pick a crime and I'll commit it. Even undercover, agents aren't allowed to commit crimes." What was she doing? This was a terrible idea and it has such a low probibility of working in her favor.
PATRICK didn't know what the woman wanted from him. He wasn't involved in crimes anymore, none of the other gang members had - surprisingly - not yet found out about his release, and hadn't contacted him; and more importantly, he hadn't contacted them. He'd started over, done the sensible thing, was now renting a little two-bedroom apartment paid off with his monthly salary, had suede patches on his blazer elbows - he even paid for HBO now, goddammit! He was living a respectable life, earning a normal income and staying on the right side of the law. So what did Hazel- fucking hell! What did Kat want from him? Hearing her mention how she tricked him into falling straight into her little undercover trap hurt. It stung. Patrick was smarter than that, and yet, he still fell for it. Fell for her, hard and fast. Scoffing, when she suggested he pick a crime, he rolled his eyes. That'd prove nothing. "Kill someone then," Patrick said nonchalantly with a shrug. "Murder someone. Take someone's life, the way my mother's life was- you know what, this is ridiculous," Patrick breathed out, closing his eyes for a moment, before taking a deep breath and looking back into Kat's. His face didn't show any sign of emotions, except for annoyance. Years ago, he actually had a system to back up his threats, if something stood in his way; he had a whole team. Now, it was just him. And he suddenly wasn't so dangerous, standing there with those stupid suede patches on his blazer elbows and files in his bag on how to build up a business and manage it properly. "Get out of my way."
KAT should have known that is the crime he would choose and she should have known exactly what that line of thinking would lead to. Aileen. Normally, she would be more sensible, she would be better at handling this situation but she has always been- he has always made her brain fuzzy. Like she could see the path forward but it was out of focus, he made her less sharp but more emotional. She had never met anyone who did that to her, maybe that's why she fell in love with him. Because with him she wasn't ten steps ahead, she wasn't the smartest person in the room, she wasn't alone. She missed him, and that had been the truth she wasn't willing to tell herself all this time. This was ridiculous, she could agree with him on that. This was not the way to try and... and what? What was she trying to do? Apologize, make amends, have him back in her life? So she moved out of his way with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Patrick." It was going to be hard, but she needed to leave him alone. You can't always talk it through and things couldn't always work on her timetable. Her current physical healing journey was proof of that.
PATRICK had once been head over heels in love with Hazel. Kat! So much so that he sent her flowers every day, showered her with presents, looked forward to every second spent with her. It had been a change for him, he wasn't the type of person to focus on anything but his work. But here she'd come along, tearing his eyes away from that and onto her. Every part of her had intrigued him, and he wanted to spend all of his time with her. That had all probably been part of her plan though. To lure him in, to get him hooked, distract him enough to make all the evidence to the crimes committed easy to get to. It hurt that she'd used him like that. Not a single part of him wanted to be around her, after what she'd done to him. So when she apologized and moved away from the door, Patrick knew not to trust her apology. It was probably yet another tactic to lure him in, and this time, he wasn't falling for it. "Stay away from me." Patrick demanded, locking eyes with Kat for a moment, before walking out of the classroom. As he walked down the hallway, he could feel his throat close up, and his heart beat faster than it'd done in a while; he hadn't noticed it in the classroom, but it had done it the entire time she'd been there. And he hoped to God it'd be the last time too, because he certainly didn't need this. He didn't need her. Anymore.
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More Seven that nobody asked for:
They are a cannibal. Usually if the kill is fresh and there's a place to cook it. Only when in desperation would they eat it raw. Sebastian sometimes poke fun at that by calling them a "still-life zombie". Little did the fish man know, they're doing this for him so that he gets actually edible food scavenges. Business partners in crime, aren't they?
Yes, they do have a crush on Sebastian. They just keep it on the down low since they are observant enough to figure out that he's married. Unfortunately for them though, the crush lasted years. And sometimes even the emotional numbing isn't enough for them to temporarily forget it.
(adding onto the crush part, they generally keep it hidden anyway. They will never initiate a confession first unless they have to.)
Their love languages are gifting and acts of service.
Mr. Lopee does take interest in them, backstory and all. They don't know it, but that green man does tend to watch over them whenever they're roaming in the facility alone. Sometimes Mr. Lopee would feel silly enough to do occasional jumpscares on them.
Seven is an assistant operative and archivist for Sebastian's shop. When Sebastian's busy reading and organizing files, they would usually be out to scavenge supplies, more files and food. Then vice versa. Only when the expendables come into the shop is where Seven does most of the scavenging for the day.
The man usually relies on his gut feeling and hearing for their survival, as they only have one functional eye and most of the touch receptors in their hands are damaged (why? I will not say. For now).
They and P.AI.nter are drawing buddies. Every once a few days, they would visit P.AI.nter in Heavy Containment (with or without Sebastian) and hang out. The two would doodle each other or do semi-interactive games that involve thought process behind the creation of an image. Sometimes the two would collaborate on a single drawing, doing silly doodles or a full on piece for hours before Seven has to go back.
#pressure#game spoilers#? i guess#z 779#z 13#tw: mentions of murder#tw: corpses#tw: cannibalism#There's gonna be more infodumping lol#Seven#Mr. Lopee#p.ai.nter pressure#Seven lore
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