#I was talking to a friend about how if she scared someone in her redemption arch deal

[ghouly-boiiiii]

Does Max give anyone else major twist villain vibes???

Okay I haven't talked about Max much yet, but I think it's kinda wild to see people talking about him like he's just this sweet innocent cinnamon roll when my read on his character was the COMPLETE opposite.

I mean yes, he does seem very sweet. He's very soft spoken. Naive in a way like Lucy, but not as much. Kinda vulnerable. Got a killer smile. And some of the moments with him and Lucy are super cute and adorable. But damn if he doesn't have a DARK side!

Like I've heard people say that Max is stupid or that Aaron Moten's acting is bad, but hell no. Aaron Moten sold me on his acting during the interrogation scene. Max was scared shitless and I FELT that. I think Max was meant to be played as a character who lacks understanding about certain things and seems disconnected from people due to both being brought up in basically a cult and having an inherent lack of empathy.

You think about the fact that he admitted he wanted Dane to get hurt, someone who's supposed to be his best friend. How he coldly sat there and watched Titus die. And before that stood there and watched him get mauled by a bear, almost like he was fascinated by it and wanted to see what was gonna happen. The fact that he tried to kill Thaddeus the moment he became a threat, even though the two of them had appeared to have bonded and developed a genuine friendship. And let's not forget he was willing to let all of Vault 4 get plunged into darkness just so he could keep playing with his power armor.

Max wants to be a knight, he wants to be a hero. And I think he tells himself he wants it for the right reasons, but I think what he REALLY wants is power and recognition. Which is really what every (okay maybe not every, but a lot) good villain wants, right? Because at the end of the day Max wants what Max wants. He's selfish, even though he doesn't think he is.

And sure, he's nice to Lucy. And he went balls to the wall to save her when he thought Vault 4 was gonna execute her. But she's a pretty girl who helped him and offered him a safe home. When she gave him the proposition that if she helped him bring back the head, he would have the Brotherhood lend her some knights to save her dad, he KNEW he couldn't make that promise. But he made the deal anyway. So he doesn't REALLY care about her or what she wants.

And that blank stare he gets when he gets mad? ACTUALLY terrifying. The guy's got serious psychopath vibes. Literal anti-social personality disorder, if you ask me. In fact the first thing I thought about when Max let Titus die is this kids going to end up going to the dark side lol.

And I think that would work really well thematically if they plan on giving The Ghoul a redemption arc beside it. There are so many parallels between Lucy and The Ghoul, and they have such a strong connection to the beginning when the bombs dropped. I get that Max is there to represent the Brotherhood and he's from Shady Sands, the town Hank destroyed, but it felt weird that he didn't seem to be AS important in the grand scheme of things compared to Cooper and Lucy.

But if Max turned out to be a badass twist villain to thematically contrast Cooper's redemption arc, while Lucy remains steadfast to her commitment to goodness and the golden rule I feel like that would really round it out. It would make sense if you consider a lot of people have pointed out that Lucy, Cooper and Max all seem to represent different play styles and different moral alignments. And I think it'd be pretty crazy if the writers of the show set out to make it seem like Ghoul is a bad guy and Max is a good guy, but then it ended up being the opposite.

I mean, there are definitely hints all over the show that The Ghoul isn't as bad as he may seem. And Max has already done some pretty messed up stuff, so I'd say the possibility is totally there, and I'd be here for it!

Who's with me???

[icyg4l]

Pick-A-Girl Group: What Purpose Do the Women In Your Life Serve?

Continuing on with my Women’s History Month series, I am going to do a reading on how the women in your life feel about you and the effect of these feelings. I am going to be using the True Heart Tarot Deck and the Archetype Oracle Deck. These readings are supposed to uplift, relate to and inspire women so I hope they serve their purpose. I Without further ado, please pick your pile. 🫶

***Disclaimer: Regardless of your gender identity, the women that are in your life deserve to be celebrated as long as they have pure intentions. Much love. 🩷

Left-to-Right (1-4):

Pile One: If you resonate with the image of FLO, then you deserve the whole fucking world. Pile One, the women in your life absolutely adore you. You probably resonate with the song’s theme: recognizing beauty in yourself when everyone is against you, specifically as a black woman. You have come such a long way. The women that are currently in your life have seen you make mistakes and allowed you to do so. They recognize your evolution. A lot of you have a best friend who you’ve been friends with for a long time and she is so proud of you. She is proud of the person that you have become. This pile has some cheerleaders around them. I feel like the women in your life are meant to take inspiration from what you are going through right now. I think that you may be going through your redemption arc.You’re forgiving yourself for a lot of things that you’ve done in the past. The women in your life see that and are following suit. After all, living life does mean not being a robot. These women who are around you are all ears, very receptive to what it is that you are doing with your life. You’re like their Oprah, lol. If you have a story to tell, share it with her. She may need to hear it. I channeled the show: Beyond Scared Straight; specifically the parts where the prisoners talk to the kids about their life stories and the reasoning for why they should not end up in jail. I feel like you could be someone’s mentor, whether they’re younger or the same age as you, perhaps even older. You are someone’s Reesa Teesa too, lol. I get the feeling that you need to be talking about yourself, Pile One. There is an audience full of women who are willing to hear you out and listen. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

God: Benevolence and compassion. Recognizing the eternal force within yourself and others/Despotism and cruelty. Using power to control people 

Mother: Nurturance, patience, unconditional love. Joy in giving birth to life/Smothering or abandoning children. Instilling guilt in children for becoming independent.

Poet: Expresses soul insights in symbolic language/Turns a lyric gift to negative or destructive effect. 

Cards Used: 2 of Swords, 4 of Discs, 9 of Cups, Prince of Wands (RX), King of Discs, Four of Cups, Temperance.

Pile Two: If you resonate with the photo of Destiny’s Child, you got some ride or dies around you for real. I think that you’ve been through hell and back with the women in your life and they do not play about you. I think the women in your life want you to know that you are so worth it. I’m not going to lie Pile Two, it sounds like you’re in a toxic love situation and your girls want you out of it. Your friends, cousin or little sister could have told you that you need to exit stage left multiple times. They absolutely believe you deserve better. Hypothetically speaking, If y’all fell out today and an emergency happened tomorrow, they would be on the way to the hospital. I feel like family is so important to you. They feel like you’ve forgot about them but I don’t think that you have. Circumstances make it difficult for you all to see eye-to-eye. The women in your life want you to know that you are not alone. They will forever be there for you no matter what, even if you have lost your damn mind. These challenging times will make the bond between you and these women stronger. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

Artist: Expressing a dimension of life that is beyond the five senses. Inspiring others to see life symbolically / Using talent as an excuse to mistreat others. Posing as the Starving Artist to elicit pity.

God:  Benevolence and compassion. Recognizing the eternal force within yourself and others / Despotism and cruelty. Using power to control people 

Goddess: The feminine expressed through wisdom. Nature, life force, and sensuality / Exploitation of the female nature and form 

Cards Used: Ace of Discs, 9 of Swords, Princess of Cups (RX), Prince of Discs, The Hierophant, Princess of Discs, 4 of Cups (RX), The Devil (RX), 10 of Cups.

Pile Three: If you resonate with the photo of TWICE, you got the grandmother spirit around you. Did you grow up in the church? Or at least with a god-fearing grandmother? I feel like the women in your life hate to see you unhappy and this is what you’re feeling right now. I think that you may be uninspired/unfulfilled with what life is giving you right now. It’s not an uncommon feeling. But smiling can make all the difference. The women in your life want to see you smile, make you smile and laugh. They want to be there for you like how your grandmother was. No one will ever replace Granny but her presence is always there. You may be questioning God/your higher powers because of something that deeply affected you. But the women around you want you to not feel ashamed or want you to feel like they are judging you. They have been in the same predicament. They only want to see you get better. They hate to see you like this. It may be hard to do this but look at the glass half full, rather than half empty. They want you to get back to yourself, the version of you that isn’t defeated. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

Child: Nature: Friendships with animals. Communication with nature spirits / Tendency to abuse animals, people and the environment. 

Destroyer: Releasing what is potentially destructive. Preparing for new life / Intoxication with destructive power. Destroying others’ dreams or potential.

Child: Magical: Seeing the potential for sacred beauty in all things. The belief that everything is possible / Pessimism, depression and disbelief in miracles. Believing that energy and action are not required for growth.

Cards Used: The Devil, Princess of Cups, The Star, Judgment, The Moon, Temperance, Seven of Swords.

Pile Four: And lastly, if you resonated with the photo of the Spice Girls, you seem very sensual. Are you a SWer? Do you attend pole dancing classes for fun? Do you know someone who does either of these things? I feel like the women in your life appreciate how physical you are. You’re probably an artist and you're sensitive about your shit too. The women in your life feel as though you have a lot of talents. You’re very multifaceted and they love to brag about it, especially the older women. You could been the cousin who had to show off the latest dance move. So as a result, you became the leader of the pack. You can be naturally nurturing but it can drain you. The women around you feel like you need to put up some boundaries so that you can still worry about you. They respect your quality of being a giver, but do you even respect yours-[GUNSHOT]. There is a woman that you are close to that admires a quality that you hate. She compliments it any chance she can get because she wants to uplift you. I feel like people always try to touch you, whether it’s your hair, your arms, or even your butt. The women around you could immediately shut it down or call them out or defend it. They want to protect your innocence. Even though you are grown, you have that ingenue within you. They know how you can get (especially while under the influence) so they refuse to let you get that way. When I pulled from my oracle deck, I got the following cards: 

Servant: Delight in serving others with a free and loving heart / Using the lack of money as an excuse not to move forward with life 

Bully: Highlights your tendency to intimidate others. Helps you confront the inner fears that bully you / Conceals deep fears behind verbal or physical abuse.

Hedonist: Inspires creative energy to embrace the good things in life. Celebrates the beauty in yourself / Pursues pleasure to the detriment of health. Indulges at the expense of others.

Cards Used: The Star, The Lovers, Judgment, The Emperor, 7 of Cups, 10 of Swords, Ace of Cups, The Moon, 8 of Cups (RX).

[hypnos333]

Hi! How are you? Hopefully good! I saw that requests are open (for hazbin hotel/helluva at least) and I wanted to send one in if that’s cool with you! Here I go!

Could I request Alastor and Vox (separately) with a GN! Reader who’s like Jeongmin Choi from Dreaming Freedom? I don’t really wanna explain her entire personality so I just added a link so it’s easier that way!

Thank you so much if you do this! Have a good day (:

A/N- I’m sorry I tried my best to fit the description of her

Freedom Dreaming

Alastor:

Charlie first met you when you were quite new to Hell and ever since she found you, you became her most loyal friend. You are a girl with quite only a few words and glare at anybody 6 feet under whoever talks or laughs at Charlie’s ideas.

That’s when you met Alaster, he found you delightful and Charming in your own way.

You can make anything happen just by a dream, A dream into reality and that makes you dangerous. A target at hell that’s why he has his shadow following you around. The last time you went all berserk is when someone was flirting with Alastor so you used your own powers to kill the bitch.

You didn’t think Alastor would noticed but nope he did notice and he found it hot. So he decided to play around with you for a bit.

“Hello my dear! I was wondering if you have seen the new resident? What was her name? Ah yes Bonnie” He asked you making your eye twitch in annoyence making you wonder why he’s asking about her

“Sadly I haven’t seen her Alastor maybe she just left feeling pressured for doing so much for just redemption” You stated without looking from your book. He raised an eyebrow at you at your smart excuse before seeing your frustration making him smile even more.

“Ah I see, You seemed to know a lot more than your saying my dear” Alastor commented making you huff putting your book down.

“What’s the need of needing her now, Alastor?” You questioned before walking away but before you can do that he grabbed your hand pulling you back towards him.

“My dear, it was all jokes but I must say jealousy does suit you” He smirk making you roll your eyes in disbelief. “I do wonder what happened to Miss. Bonnie?” He asked making you finally give in as you pulled him down to kiss you.

but before he could react you pulled away “Are you done talking about the bitch now? I think she knew what she was doing when she was flirting with you” You said making him hide his blush at your bold statement and action.

“My dear we’re far from talking about her now, it’s just us now”

“Just us alone?”

“Of course My Dear, just us alone” He replied leaning down for another kiss.

Vox:

You glare at Valentino as he hid behind your Fiancé, Vox raised his eyebrows at you two before seeing you genuinely angry. “My Darling What has you so angry” He asked you making you continue to glare at Valentino.

“I saw him hitting Angel dust making him bruised” You huffed before finally lunging at Valentino making Vox hold you back as Valentino screeched in shock. “IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU BITCH” You yelled at him eyes pure black before Vox carried you out the house.

“My Darling no offense but please calm the hell down, you gonna make all hell scared of you” Vox stated calmly.

This reminds him of himself when he has tantrums way too much now he sees how you feel during those. You continued to scream curses at Valentino making sure he hears you loud and clear.

He moved you to both yours bedroom moving you to your bed, “Vox-“Shh baby let us just lay here for a second” He interrupts you making you huff in frustration. You wrapped your arms around his neck anyway ms as he hugged your waist.

“I’m not gonna forget what he did, I’m actually gonna kill him” You stated making him chuckle.

“I’m sure he deserves it anyways baby” He stated with you. Putting his hands under your shirt before rubbing your back making you even more calm than usual.

“Your trying to distract me” You stated knowing he is because everytime your mad at Valentino or Velvette he would do more physical touch either in public or not. You loved his touch maybe that’s why it was easy for you to calm down usual you’ll use your lucid dreaming by now.

“It’s work isn’t it?” He smirked making you blush before sighing still thinking about your friend making Vox frown.

“I’ll tell Valentino to not hit his clients but I can’t guarantee it my darling” Vox mumbled making you smile again. He noticed it making him glad you’re happy again.

“Really? Thank you so much baby!” You said excitedly kissing him all over his face making him love the attention and affection.

“I’ll do anything for you absolutely anything” He said before kissing your lips before pulling you closer.

[jovialmoonprincess]

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 2)

First Part. / The Winter Ball

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 2k.

Warning(s): None, 15 yo Corio!! FLUFF FLUFF THE KIISS READ IT FOR THE KISS

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Comment to be tag in the next part" And REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Y/N was nervous. Attending parties wasn't something she was used to, especially in the Capitol. Her father always reminded her not to trust anyone, and distrust had become second nature to her. Tigris, her friend, had borrowed her a dress, even though her father could now afford to buy as many as she wanted. Tigris insisted she needed something special, something she had that would be perfect. When Y/N asked if Tigris was going to wear it, the answer was no; the dress wasn't hers and wouldn't fit, but it would look gorgeous on Y/N. Tigris, with her generous heart, always tried to cheer up Y/N when she cried out of fear and missed her friends from the districts. And surprisingly, Tigris never judged her, perhaps because she shared her own fears and people to care about.

Tigris understood when Y/N called suggesting a girls' night. It was a code for "my father is unbearable, only talks about war, and I want to stay away from him at least tonight." Tigris simply made a list of activities for them, from plucking eyebrows to watching romance movies on TV.

Y/N's dress was stunning, in a bright navy blue shade. And it was the first time she wore heels. Tigris also borrowed her the jewelry. Y/N walked with cautious steps, afraid that someone would look at her and discover she was an imposter. Even though she was part of the Capitol now, she didn't know how people would react.

After almost an hour of pretending to be invisible and enjoying the chocolate dessert on the table, people started leaving the dance floor. They got tired of dancing and were heading for the food, the only activity they seemed to practice. Y/N left the table to get some air; so many people were starting to tire her, even without talking to them yet. Outside, the scenery was beautiful, with a flower-filled garden, water mirrors, and something like an illuminated gazebo. She walked there; it was already night, and she wanted some fresh air. Looking at the night sky was comforting, something shared by everyone, regardless of their districts.

"Hey, this dress looks beautiful on you." She almost had a heart attack; it wasn't for anyone to notice her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was Corio, Tigris's cousin, always kind when he saw her.

"Thank you, it was Tigris…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"It was my mother's; my grandmother gave it to Tigris, but it suits you much better. Tigris likes things less… simple." A compliment, perhaps?

"Thank you, it's a really beautiful dress." She replied with a smile. Almost too beautiful that it doesn't suit me. She felt guilty for undoing the memory of the boy's mother.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Y/N couldn't stop looking into his blue eyes; how could someone be so beautiful? It was almost painful.

"I came out to get some air; it was too hot inside." She replied.

"Just when I was about to invite you to dance?" He smiled; my God, he looked even more beautiful smiling. Y/N! What's happening to you?? He's from the Capitol. You shouldn't be getting involved with these people, at least not sincerely.

"Oh, I don't know how to dance." She lied; what if he leaves and forgets that she's wearing his mother's dress. Maybe that's why he's here; he must have confused his feelings. After all, why else would he approach her? Oh, maybe he just wants to be friends with his cousin's friend. Could be, right?

"I can teach you." He was already so close to her; she could feel her heart beating in her throat. "If you want…" He extended his hand to her, and Y/N took it. What harm could it do, after all?

The touch of their skins was electrifying. He placed a hand on her waist, and she breathed; it was as if there wasn't enough air between them. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath. The music could be heard clearly from there, as well as the sound of their feet on the wooden floor.

"Tigris talks a lot about you. I think you're the only friend she really likes. She feels at home with you." There was sincerity in his words.

"We have very similar stories; I also went hungry during the first rebellion." Corio was an intriguing character; Y/N didn't know what his real intentions were. He seemed like a good guy, even if he was closed off.

"I heard your father is sick, is it true?" He seemed slightly concerned. Y/N met Trigis first, because of their parents. They became good friends despite the age difference.

"Oh, yes, it seems that sometimes winning a battle doesn't mean winning the war. The battle ends, but life goes on, and problems still arise." She spoke with a sad and thoughtful voice.

"It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" He asked as they continued to dance slowly.

"What?"

"Having to worry about hunger while there are people inside who claim to be hungry all the time, even without knowing the real meaning." She didn't expect to hear that, at least not from him. Corio seemed quite comfortable among his friends.

"Yes, it's unfair." She replied seriously. "I wish I could change all of this."

"You know, people like you, me, and Tigris. We deserve more; we have to strive to reach the top." Corio was ambitious; anyone could see that.

"I think we're already at the top." Whether she liked it or not, feeling hungry in the Capitol was different from living in the outer districts. At least here, they had a chance to be heard if they spoke at the right time.

"This isn't the top, Y/N." She didn't know how much she needed to hear him say her name until he said it for the first time. "We're in the Capitol, but we're still not at the top."

"What would be the top for you, Corio?"

"Being president. It's the highest position; I'm sure that when I get there, I can really do something." The way he spoke was as if he wanted to improve the country's situation. To be a fair and democratic leader.

"Sorry about the dress; I didn't know it was your mother's." Y/N didn't want to ruin the moment by talking about politics. They would have better opportunities for that.

Tigris probably said something about Corio's mother, but Y/N's memory was terrible.

"It's been a while since she died, in my sister's birth." She could see a glimpse of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"The dress looks beautiful on you; I'm glad my grandmother kept it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you."

All was silent. All was still. But as they looked at each other's eyes, they heard the unmistakable clamor of their own hearts. Corio was getting closer to her, his lips so close to hers. It was like one of the movies she watched with Tigris.

When their lips touched, something ignited inside Y/N; it was as if nothing else existed. It was a feeling that, if cultivated, promised to become addictive, a sweet dependence that she wouldn't be in a hurry to overcome. His lips were soft, an irresistible invitation, and his touch was like a gentle caress, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment of that unique moment. One of Corio's hands held Y/N's waist with care, while the other stroked her face gently and firmly, as if sealing a silent pact between them. The kiss was like a hot summer day in the middle of winter, a comforting surprise that transported her to a place where there was only the softness of Corio's lips and the delicate and firm touch of his hands.

It was a kiss that transcended time and space, a promise of something deeper and more intense that awaited on the horizon. Breaking the kiss, the gaze they exchanged contained the promise of a future that, at that moment, seemed full of exciting possibilities. The world around them may have continued in silence, but within them, the melody of that kiss would echo for a long time.

The first kiss was a revelation, a sublime experience that transcended circumstances. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to attribute part of this enchantment to the beauty of the setting, but above all to the even more dazzling figure of Coriolanus. At that moment, for the first time, Y/N felt truly beautiful, removed from the ruthless clutches of war. It was as if, for a brief moment, she found the calm before the storm.

Although she wanted to prolong the kiss, Y/N interrupted it, yielding to the inevitable need for a pause. Their gazes intertwined in silence, a communication deeper than any words could express. Coriolanus's eyes, an ocean of blue fascination, were irresistible, and Y/N felt submerged in the intensity of that gaze. Withdrawing gently, she sought refuge on a nearby bench, and Corio, in silence, took a seat beside her. Hesitation hung between them, neither daring to initiate the next exchange of words.

"Did you enjoy the chocolate dessert, didn't you?" Corio's soft voice broke the silence, eliciting a sincere laugh from Y/N. Had he noticed the taste of chocolate on her lips, or had he just watched her during the dance in the hall? The question lingered in the air, hovering between them, lacking the courage to be asked.

"I loved it," confessed Y/N, although she couldn't determine if she was talking about the dance, the dessert, or the kiss. Perhaps all the options were correct.

"You lied to me," accused the young Snow.

"What?" Y/N laughed again.

"You said you didn't know how to dance." The accusation came with a smile from Corio.

"Maybe," she replied, smiling.

Hours unfolded in deep conversations, a natural harmony between Y/N and Corio. Words flowed, laughter echoed, and the kiss, a magical moment that both chose to ignore, was never mentioned again. Corio, a dreamer aligned with Y/N's aspirations, revealed remarkable ambition and unwavering confidence. Meanwhile, Y/N still struggled with uncertainties about her destiny, eager to capture some of the determination radiating from Corio.

It was the ultimate moment when Y/N felt truly connected to Corio. At that moment, she sincerely believed that he was destined for an extraordinary future as a student in the Capitol. With the passage of time, that memory became nostalgic, a pearl of an irrecoverable past.

In present times, in the Capitol (4 years later)

Y/N, immersed in reverie, contemplated a photo taken with Tigris during the ball. After this glimpse of the past, resentment towards Corio increased. How could he get so close so quickly and distance himself just as fast? They could have continued. However, after that winter break that year, Snow didn't spend more than 5 seconds near her. Their interactions were limited to fights, but even so, Y/N couldn't ignore the boy's beauty.

A last dance preceded the Plinth Prize weekend. It would be an opportunity to meet Corio again, four years after that memorable kiss, in drastically altered circumstances. Y/N awaited eagerly, sometimes questioning her sanity, pondering if everything that woman had said would come true. Corio would graduate, go to university, meet someone, and find happiness. He wouldn't become a murderer, let alone a dictator.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that something had changed in Corio since that first kiss. The boy who was once dreamy and affable now exhibited a more closed-off side, as if a shadow had settled in his soul. Every word was measured, and his smiles were scarce, replaced by a serious and concerned expression.

Corio had become more abrupt, and the lightness that characterized his personality seemed to have been replaced by intense seriousness. Y/N noticed that he closed himself off, keeping a distance that didn't exist before. That touch of softness and charm, present in the boy who taught her to dance and gave her an unforgettable kiss, had turned into an aura of tension.

Y/N remembered one of their first fights.

In a classroom full of tension and academic expectations, the teacher announced with a firm voice, "For the next assignment, we'll have randomly assigned pairs." The students' gazes met, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. Among them were Y/N and Corio, both already known for their rivalries and fierce competitions.

The draw took place, and fate decided that Y/N and Corio would be partners in the next academic endeavor. A wave of murmurs ran through the room, accompanied by intrigued looks directed at the two protagonists.

On a cold study afternoon in the library, Y/N was immersed in her books, tracing meticulous notes and underlining important passages. Corio, on the other hand, flipped through pages with a serious expression, focused on absorbing all available knowledge.

As the hours passed, tension grew. Each had their own approach to the task, and soon the differences became apparent. Y/N preferred to explore ideas and theories more broadly, while Corio delved into specific details, prioritizing accuracy.

"You need to focus, Y/N. These assignments will shape our academic future," said Corio, his tone a mixture of concern and impatience.

Y/N lifted her eyes from the books, facing Corio with a resistant expression. "I'm not disregarding the importance, Corio. I just believe that there are more ways to learn than simply burying yourself in books all the time."

Y/N's words hit Corio like a challenge, and his response came with an unexpected intensity. "Do you think you can afford not to dedicate yourself entirely to studies? The competition here is fierce, Y/N, and only the best succeed." The discussion unfolded, and sharp words flew between them like arrows. Y/N advocated the idea that university life should be more than just grades and rankings, while Corio insisted that the path to success was paved with tireless effort and dedication.

The tension reached its peak when Y/N, driven by frustration, accused Corio of having lost the ability to dream and live beyond academic expectations. Corio, in turn, responded with the accusation that Y/N was being naive and reckless about her future.

The argument, fueled by intense emotions and fundamental differences, echoed through the silent library, drawing curious glances from other students trying to focus on their own studies. As the inflamed words dissipated, Y/N and Corio stared at each other, aware that they had crossed a line separating their views, revealing the depth of the differences that now threatened the stability of their relationship. The ensuing silence was laden with resentment and the bitter feeling that something significant, beyond grades and books, was shattering between them.

----------

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes, comments, and follows on my story. <3

Big virtual hugs and high-fives to each and every one of you. See you on Part III.

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts

Again: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

[bestpigeon]

AlastorxFemale Reader 2

Alastor x female reader

Reader is a fallen angel who has been openly welcomed onto Charlie's, Hazbin Hotel. She grows close to Alastor, too close.

Warnings: swearing, kissing

Word count: 1200

Part 1! Part 2!

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I awake in the morning. It's been around a few weeks since the first day in the Hazbin Hotel, and can I say that it's been a delight. Everyone's been so welcoming, I'm actually enjoying this more than I'd thought. Hell isn't too bad. I mean, sure, it's hell but..I have people down here who respect me.

I've actually figured out something about myself, too. In heaven, I was known as a powerful angel, I'm a fallen angel now, but I have some demonic qualities. I've developed horns. I'm actuslly thankful though, it creates less suspicion. My powerful aura has turned a deeper shade of yellow, too.

I haven't equipt my wings yet either. If I keep them hidden, they heal quicker. Plus, I wouldn't want to get caught either.

Charlie suddenly bursts through my door and stares at me. I jump and panic. "HOLY SHIT-" I froze until I realised who it was, and I calmed down. "Jesus Charlie ylu scared the fuck out of me." I say as I rub the back of my neck.

"Oh! Sorry!" She giggles before shutting the door. "The horns seem new? Cool. Also you joining us for the activities?" She says as she stands in front of me with a huge smile. "Activities?" I question confused.

"Just friendly activities to get to know each other!" She says with a sly smirk. I know her game. I chuckle before nodding. "Sure couldn't hurt?" I say as she quickly grabs my hand and basically drags me downstairs. I wave at everyone as she goes to explain the activity.

She explains the activity. You pull a name from a hat, and you have to talk about feelings with them? That's..such a weird activities. Angel dust pulls a name and gets Vaggie. He seems disappointed. Husker gets Charlie leaving me and Alastor. Alastor smiles widley at me.

"Why don't we go on a walk, fellow demon?" He says as he approaches me. I smile up at him. I could already feel Charlie's smirk. I nod happily. "Sure, Al, lead the way," I say with a bright smile.

Alastor and I walk outside of the hotel side by side. He both agree not to talk about feelings and decide to get to know each other.

"So my friend, how long have you been in hell?" He asks. I internally shit myself. Luckily, I acted cool. "I'd prefer not to say.. I mean, not like indont trust you!" I just don't tell people that stuff. Sorry!" I say, hoping he wouldn't get suspicious. He squints slightly at me before nodding. "Understandable. I am neither fond of spilling personal information about myself."

I nod with a smile. Damn I'm good at lying. How the fuck did I get into heaven anyways? I don't know anymore. "So, Al, what madd you visit the hotel?" I say. I was curious. Charlie told me a little about the hotel, so I know it's about redemption. I doubt Alastor is up to be redeemed.

"Ah, well, I'm simply just interested in helping Charlie with her dreams! I have no intention to be redeemed." He says with a huge smile. I could hear the radio static in his voice. "What about you? How did Charlie find someone as beautiful as you to come to the hotel hm?" He says. How charming. I feel my face go slightly red.

"How nice of you, and well I was simply wondering the street, and she approached me. I didn't really have a place to stay, so she offered it to me for free." I say. Once again I'm a fucking good at lying.

"She truly is a charm! She's such a nice girl." He says as he praises Charlie. He wasn't wrong. I both nod and hum in agreement. We both stop walking before he turns to me. "Care to have a drink?" He says as he moves one of his hands to grab mine. I smile lightly. "Of course, how could I say no?" I never would have thought, Alastor would have been so damn charming.

He continues to hold me hand before leading me to a bar. He seemed to be quite known around these parts because he got given a VIP area for free. We sit down in front of each other. Still holding hands.

"So, what's this then Al hm? Some sort of date?" I say teasingly. It basically should be at this point. From my surprise, I see Alastors face go a little red. I smile warmly at that and tilt my head while making full eye contact with him.

"If you're uncomfortable with that, then it's simply simply just two friends!" He says as him smile shortens. I chuckle softly before speaking. "I wouldn't mind if it was a date at all. It would be nice, actually." I say, smiling widly. I see his smile extend. "Well, let's call it a date!" He says with his charming smile. His voice was soft.

We order drinks and talk for a while. We talk about ourselves, and I avoid some questions about things that could get me caught. He didn't seem to notice luckily. He made a move and decided to put next to me instead. He slides one of his arms on my shoulder, so I close to him. We talked for a while.

We were laughing at a joke about Vox. He sounds pathetic. Apparently, he's his arch enemy or something. He then grabbed my chin and left a small peck on my lips. I smile and try to ignore the blush on my face. I chuckle before returning him with kisses too: mouth, cheek, forbead, nose. We've gotten quite close recently.

He chuckles at that, and I notice his smile seems genuine. More genuine than normal. I kiss his lips, and he returns the kiss. We make out for a while until I move away and move my hand to play with his hair.

"Where have yoy been my whole afterlife, Y/N. Why haven't I met you before?" He questions. I keep a smile on my face. He was asking..weird questions, and I didn't want to get caught. "Not sure! But I'm glad I've met you now." I say as I snuggle against his chest. He chuckles and nods.

"It's getting quite late, my fellow demon. We should go back to the hotel, Charlie might be worried." He says as he stands up. I nod in agreement and go to stand up before I get wiped off the seat. "Woah!-" I say as Alastor bridal carries me out the bar. I chuckle "Al I have legs, y'know." I say as I go to wiggle out of his hold. It's not like I didn't want him to carry me.

"I'm aware, Y/N. It's for my own pleasure." He says as he refuses to put me down. I chuckle and lean into his hold. Soon after that, I fell asleep. Alastor could have teleported to the hotel. But chose to carry me anyway. Maybe he isn't as bad as I thought, Charlie said not to trust him. But I just can't help myself, I've fallen for him.

___________________________________________

Part 2! Hope you enjoyed this. Do you have any recommendations? Feel free to request! I'd love to fulfil them.

[tatumrileyslover]

Redemption

Sequel to Solace

Pairings: Tara Carpenter x Fem! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Hurt again, angst, some fluff

Warnings: violence, stabbing, character death

Word Count: 7.4k

Authors Note: thanks so much for all the patience you’ve shown me, I’m been very stressed these past few days with uni quickly approaching I’ve had no time to write, if you like this, I might make a third part about the final act. Hope you all enjoy

As (Y/n) lay quietly by Tara's side, her heart weighed heavy with guilt and love, as she gently caressed Tara's hair, trying to be a source of comfort in the dimly lit hospital room. Her fingers moved with tender care, tracing soothing patterns as she whispered words of reassurance. The events of the night replayed in her mind like a haunting melody, the fight they had before the attack now etched in her memory, making her ache with regret. She knew there was no way she could have predicted what would happen, but the guilt gnawed at her nonetheless.

Tara's eyes struggled to stay open, the exhaustion from the ordeal pulling her into a dreamless slumber. Her body was weak, but the warmth of (Y/n)'s touch gave her a sense of solace amid the chaos. The room remained enveloped in a profound silence, broken only by the faint hum of hospital equipment, and the gentle symphony of Tara's quiet breaths. (Y/n)'s heart swelled with love, vowing never to leave Tara's side again. She had come so close to losing the person she cherished most, and the fear of that loss had shaken her to her core.

The tranquility of the hospital room was shattered by the sound of frantic footsteps racing toward the door. Tara's heart pounded, her body tensing in anticipation. Despite the pain that shot through her as she attempted to sit up, she refused to remain vulnerable and defenseless. Beside her, (Y/n) held her hand tightly, her expression a mix of worry and determination.

The door swung open, and their friends burst into the room, a rush of relief and concern on their faces. (Y/n) stayed by Tara's side, never letting go of her hand, a steady anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Wes stood at the foot of the bed, trying to sound confident in an attempt to reassure Tara that everything was under control.

"Don't worry, Tara. My mom's got everything under control," Wes said, his voice trying to sound reassuring, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "She's conducting interviews, and there's a curfew in place to keep everyone safe."

Chad chimed in with his own contribution, his tone tinged with sarcasm, "Yeah, Sheriff Hicks even interviewed me. Amber here thought I was the killer because of some football bruises!"

Amber raised her arms defensively, "I was just stating the facts. It's always someone you know, right?"

(Y/n) sighed loudly, interrupting the argument, her frustration evident. "Guys, seriously! This is the last thing Tara needs right now. If you're going to argue about petty things, just leave!"

The group fell into an uncomfortable silence, but it didn't last long. Mindy spoke up, her words laced with suspicion, "If we're going by Stab rules, how do we know it's not the love interest? I mean, isn't that what always happens?"

(Y/n)'s glare could have cut through steel, feeling hurt and betrayed that one of her closest friends could suggest such a thing. Tara squeezed her hand gently, offering her comfort and assurance. "It couldn't have been her," Tara said, her voice soft but firm. "(Y/n) was texting me the entire time. She scared off the killer before they..." Her voice trailed off as the memories of the terrifying ordeal washed over her, the pain and fear still fresh in her mind.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, her guilt gnawing at her. She knew she couldn't have arrived any earlier, but she still blamed herself for not being there to protect Tara. "I feel guilty enough for not being there in the first place," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "Please, can we talk about something else?"

As Chad tried to change the topic, the door to the room burst open once again, revealing a familiar face. Everyone stood on defence only to see Tara's sister Sam, she had changed a lot since (Y/n) had seen her last, her eyes were more sunken in, she had lost all the baby fat on her cheeks, but she had looked much healthier. (Y/n) could see the look of longing and relief that had rushed over Sams face seeing her sister, all beat up in the hospital bed.

"Sam?"

As the door swung open, the occupants of the room stood up abruptly, shock and surprise etched across their faces. Amber's expression seemed to hold a mixture of disdain and disbelief. It was no secret that Amber harbored resentment toward Sam for leaving her family abruptly, and (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling that there was a hidden reason behind it all, something she couldn't quite fathom.

"You came?" Tara's voice was almost a whisper, carrying a mix of astonishment and emotion. Tara's eyes raked over Sam's features, as if trying to take in every detail she had missed during their time apart. In that moment, the absence of their mother, who had yet to visit, seemed insignificant. Sam was here, (Y/n) was here, and Tara was not alone anymore. "Of course I came. This is my boyfriend, Richie."

Richie offered a polite smile and extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, and I'm sorry if I'm intruding." Tara managed a small grin, finding Sam's newfound openness endearing. She replied, "It's nice to meet you too." Richie seemed a bit awkward, almost hovering by the door, a stance that (Y/n) understood – he was an outsider in a situation fraught with tension. Sam went around the room, exchanging hugs with the friends who had become like family to Tara. She turned back to Richie, who appeared even more nervous now. A soft smile played on her lips. "These are Chad and Mindy, the twins, and Wes. I used to babysit them all."

(Y/n)'s gaze shifted to Richie, who seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting with the string on his backpack. An odd intuition nudged her, suggesting something was off about him, but she dismissed it as her own apprehension. Sam's call to her name brought her back to reality. "And (Y/n)'s been friends with Tara for as long as I can remember!" (Y/n) offered a smile, her grip on Tara's hand tightening briefly. "Girlfriend now, actually," she said, emphasizing the change in their relationship status. Tara's smile echoed the sentiment.

Sam's attention shifted to Amber, who stood opposite (Y/n) near Tara's bedside. She greeted her, only to receive a reluctant response. (Y/n) couldn't help but notice that Richie had only introduced himself back to Amber. Odd, she thought. The conversation turned to their absent mother, and Sam's inquiry highlighted her noticeable absence. Tara began to explain, "She's stuck at a conference in London, she called me earlier-"

Amber, ever the blunt one, cut her off, a clear note of resentment in her voice. "For all of ten minutes." Tara's gaze dropped to her lap, struggling to hold back her tears. The impact of Amber's words resonated through the room, prompting Amber to change the subject hastily. "Look, guys, Tara's really tired. Maybe we should just give her some space?"

The room seemed to agree in unison, with everyone beginning to leave. Tara's words, however, halted Sam. "Not you, Sam. I want you to stay." Sam's surprise was evident, but she nodded, her eyes welling up with gratitude. (Y/n) remained rooted by Tara's side, determined not to leave her.

"If it's okay with you, I can sleep here tonight?" Sam's voice was gentle, filled with the understanding that she was walking on fragile ground. Tara offered a smile, her heart warmed by her sister's presence. "I'd really like that."

(Y/n) reached out and took Sam's hand, offering her a genuine smile. "I'm glad you're here, Sam."

A soft shuffle drew their attention to Amber, who was still in the room. Leaning down to Tara's side, she whispered, "Do you have your extra inhaler?" Tara reassured her, and Amber left, with Richie following suit, his unease palpable.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/n) turned her attention back to Tara, her grip on Sam's hand not loosening.

Looking back to the sisters, (Y/n) noticed the intense exchange of looks between them, a telltale sign that a very private moment was about to unfold. As Tara's body trembled, (Y/n) instinctively moved closer, her presence offering a silent promise of comfort and support.

Tara's emotions began to well up, and (Y/n) could tell she was on the brink of tears. With a gentle shift, she positioned herself closer to Tara, her arm finding a reassuring place atop Tara's intertwined hands. The sisters seemed to exist in their own world, yet (Y/n)'s presence was a steady anchor, a reminder that they were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.

"Sam, I was so scared," Tara's voice quivered, the vulnerability in her tone exposing the depth of her feelings. Sam immediately slipped into her role as the older sister, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from Tara's face and holding her close. (Y/n)'s touch provided an additional layer of comfort, a subtle gesture of solidarity that only she and Sam could offer.

"I know," Sam's voice was a soothing balm, a simple affirmation that carried the weight of understanding.

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open as the door to the hospital room closed with a soft click, momentarily rousing her from a light slumber. Her gaze scanned the room, searching for any signs of movement or activity. The absence of Sam's presence in the chair next to Tara's bedside was noticeable, but (Y/n) assumed she had stepped out briefly, perhaps for a bathroom break. She allowed her eyes to drift shut again, intent on drifting back into a peaceful doze.

However, her tranquility was shattered like fragile glass when a quiet scream sliced through the air, instantly jolting her into a state of wide-eyed alertness. Her heart raced, and her body tensed as she sat up in bed, the remnants of sleep clinging to her senses. Her gaze honed in on the corner of the room, where Richie was seated, his head bowed, eyes glued to the screen of his iPad. The chilling atmosphere was heightened by the unmistakable sounds of a horror movie playing – sounds she recognized all too well.

Confusion and alarm etched across her features as she tried to make sense of the situation. The eerie background noises were unmistakably from one of the "Stab" movies – a franchise born from the real-life horrors the town of Woodboro had endured, which has resulted in Tara's unfortunate circumstances. Her voice trembled slightly as she found the words to break the silence that had descended like a heavy fog.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she demanded urgently, her eyes locked onto Richie's figure, searching for any signs of explanation or rationality. His sudden shift in attention, his fingers hovering over the iPad's screen, was a testament to her abrupt intrusion into whatever he was engrossed in.

Richie's gaze lifted from the screen, his eyes wide with surprise at being caught. He seemed momentarily flustered by her presence and her questions, his attempt at playing it off failing to mask his unease.

(Y/n)'s frown deepened as the unsettling sounds of the movie reached her ears once again. She couldn't deny the familiar disquiet that they stirred within her, the haunting echoes of the past becoming tangible in the present. "Are you watching... Stab?" Her voice held a mix of incredulity and incredulousness. It was as if her mind couldn't quite grasp the reality of the situation – the fact that Richie, someone on the outskirts of their ordeal, would be voluntarily subjecting himself to this eerie re of  trauma.

A shy, almost apologetic smile tugged at the corners of Richie's lips. It was a blend of embarrassment and hesitation, like a person caught red-handed in the act of something they knew wouldn't be well-received. "It's on Netflix," he explained, as if the familiarity of the streaming platform justified his choice of entertainment.

(Y/n)'s puzzled look lingered, her brow furrowing as she tried to understand the reasoning behind his actions. His next words only added to her confusion. "I want to be prepared in case—"

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips before she could even stop herself. Her frustration at the bizarre scenario was palpable, and she found herself standing up from her seat with an urgency that demanded an explanation. She was careful not to disturb Tara, who continued to sleep soundly nearby. "If you wanted to be prepared, you'd be on Wikihow," she retorted, her tone a mix of sarcasm and annoyance. With a quiet but determined resolve, she left the room, needing a breather from the disconcerting situation that had unraveled before her.

The tension in the air seemed to cling to her as she stepped into the corridor, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and bewilderment. The strange confluence of events left her grappling with a sense of unease, a nagging feeling that there was more to Richie's actions than met the eye. She couldn't shake the distrust that had taken root, like a seed of doubt that had been planted deep within her mind.

Navigating the hospital's corridors, (Y/n)'s steps were measured and her thoughts a mixture of concern and confusion. She couldn't shake off the unsettling encounter with Richie, his bizarre fixation on watching horror movies as some twisted form of preparation. She needed a moment to herself, a sip of water perhaps, to distance herself from the eerie undercurrents that seemed to be flowing through the hospital.

Approaching the break room, the quiet hum of the hallway was disrupted by an alarming cacophony emanating from within. Banging, clattering, and muffled grunts created an eerie symphony that sent shivers down her spine. Perplexed, she slowed her steps, her curiosity warring with her instinct to flee the chaos.

Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, the scene before her shifted in a blur of motion. Sam burst out of the room, her features a mask of shock and desperation. (Y/n) barely had time to react as Sam collided with her, the impact sending her sprawling to the floor. Sam's startled face met hers, their eyes locking in a brief moment of shared astonishment.

(Y/n) felt Sam's arms gripping her own, attempting to pull her up in the midst of their collision. The urgency of Sam's movements hinted at a deeper turmoil, a frantic need to escape whatever had transpired within the break room. But their awkward positioning and the chaos of the situation only added to the confusion.

In the midst of the chaos, the attempt to stand turned into a clumsy shuffle, a precarious dance of limbs and urgency. Sam's grip faltered, and (Y/n) found herself slipping from her grasp. As if guided by a malevolent force, Sam's foot landed in an unfortunate spot, her heel connecting with (Y/n)'s temple in a jarring impact.

Pain exploded through (Y/n)'s head, and her vision blurred as a high-pitched ringing echoed in her ears. The world around her swirled in a disorienting haze, and she struggled to make sense of what was happening. A blurry figure moved in the periphery of her vision – Ghostface.

As abruptly as the chaos had begun, it ended. Ghostface retreated, leaving behind an unsettling void. (Y/n) remained on the floor, dazed and immobilized by the shock of the encounter. The echoes of Sam's pleas and the ominous sounds of struggle gradually faded, replaced by the hospital's familiar, muted hum.

Amid the disorientation, a nurse arrived on the scenel. (Y/n) blinked, her vision gradually clearing as the nurse's calm voice and gentle touch reassured her. With the nurse's support, (Y/n) managed to rise from the floor, the ache in her temple a persistent reminder of the chaotic collision.

Guided by the nurse, (Y/n) walked, her steps unsteady, back to Tara's hospital room. Tara's attack, the encounter with Richie, the tumult in the break room, it all felt like an eerie dream that she couldn't quite shake off.

(Y/n)'s head throbbed mercilessly, each step feeling like a hammer strike against her temples. The hospital's harsh lights pierced through her skull, sending shockwaves of pain radiating in all directions. She squinted, her hand instinctively shielding her eyes from the blinding assault. As the door to the hospital room drew near, her gaze shifted to Richie, who stood outside with an eerie intensity. His arms were crossed, his ear pressed against the door – a disturbing sight that set her on edge.

Intent on addressing Richie's unsettling behavior, (Y/n) was about to confront him when a sudden, shrill voice rent the air, tearing through the tense silence.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Tara's raw, strained voice reverberated, piercing through the room like a knife. The scene froze, every person in the vicinity arrested by the unexpected outburst. Even the deputy stationed by the door widened his eyes in surprise. Richie, his demeanor shifting from curiosity to apprehension, swiftly moved out of the doorframe. (Y/n)'s light steps closed the gap between her and the unfolding situation, her heart pounding in anticipation.

With a strange sense of déjà vu, the door opened before her hand could even touch the handle. Sam stood before her, her face marred by blotchy redness and tear tracks. Clearly shaken by whatever had transpired inside the room, her eyes traced a path from the floor to (Y/n)'s face, finally settling on the bandaged temple. A quiet sniffle escaped Sam, her voice trembling as she spoke through her emotions.

"I'm sorry," (Y/n)'s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile, her gesture aimed at offering comfort amidst the chaos. She gently reassured Sam of her well-being before guiding her aside, her focus shifting to the heart of the storm – Tara.

Tara sat on the bed, her demeanor distant and lost in thought. Her gaze seemed to penetrate through everything, fixated on some invisible point in the distance. (Y/n) recognized that look – it was the expression of someone grappling with a truth too painful to fully comprehend. It was a mix of disbelief and realization, a storm of emotions brewing beneath a seemingly calm surface.

Whatever Sam had divulged in that room had clearly struck a deep chord within Tara. The weight of that revelation hung heavily in the air, casting a pall over the room and enveloping everyone in its shadow. (Y/n)'s heart went out to Tara, her desire to be a source of solace stronger than ever. As she approached the bed, she sent Tara a gentle, supportive look, silently offering her presence.

(Y/n) held Tara tightly, feeling the tremors coursing through her body as tears soaked her shoulder. Tara's voice wavered as she struggled to find words in the midst of her emotional turmoil.

"Why, (Y/n)? Why did Sam lie? Why did my mom keep this from me?"

(Y/n)'s own voice was laden with confusion as she held Tara closer, her heart aching for her girlfriend. "I don't know what you're talking about, Tara."

Tara's grip on (Y/n) tightened, as if she was seeking an anchor in the midst of the storm. "He was a killer, a psychopath. How could she be Billy Loomis' daughter?"

(Y/n)'s brows furrowed, her mind grappling to make sense of the pieces Tara was unveiling. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of their shattered reality. "Wait, are you saying Sam is... Billy Loomis' daughter?"

Tara's voice cracked, a mixture of anger and sorrow. "And my mom... how could she let me believe Sam was my sister all this time?"

(Y/n)'s fingers rubbed soothing circles on Tara's back, her own heart heavy with the weight of Tara's pain. "I can't even begin to understand, Tara."

Tara's breath hitched, her voice hollow as she questioned her own identity. "Who am I, (Y/n)? If Sam's not my sister, then... who is she?"

(Y/n)'s grip on Tara tightened as if trying to hold her pieces together. "We'll figure it out, Tara. We'll find the truth together."

Tara's voice wavered as she fought back a fresh wave of tears. Her eyes bore into her girlfriend's, seeking comfort from the sudden betrayal of her family. "I thought I knew my family, (Y/n). But now... everything feels shattered."

(Y/n)'s voice was a quiet reassurance, even though uncertainty gnawed at her. "You're not alone in this, Tara. I'll be here for you every step of the way."

Tara's voice was barely above a whisper, her pain palpable. "I don't even know who my mother is anymore."

(Y/n)'s own confusion mirrored Tara's, her voice filled with empathy. "I can't imagine what you're going through, Tara. But we'll face this together."

Tara's tear-streaked face turned up to (Y/n)'s, eyes searching for something she couldn't quite name. "(Y/n), promise me you won't leave. Promise you'll stay, no matter how messy things get."

(Y/n)'s voice was a fervent vow, her heartache mingling with her commitment. "I promise, Tara. I'm not going anywhere."

The familiar chatter of Dawson Creek filled the hospital room, Tara had turned it on as background noise, to drown out the violent flashes that seemed to submerge her mind. Frustration etched lines on her face as her gaze darted repeatedly towards the door, her impatience festering like an open wound.

A sideways glance at the television in her heightened state snagged her attention, the unfolding scene appearing almost like a twisted mirror to her reality.

"Are the doors locked?"

"Yeah we should check the doors. Joey and Pacey, get the front door. Jen and Cliff, get flashlights-"

A guttural sound reverberated from the corridor, followed by a heavy thud as something crashed to the floor. Goosebumps prickled on Tara's arms, though she tried to dismiss the noise as inconsequential, perhaps a clumsy officer dropping an item or the sound of (Y/n)'s return with her food.

"Hello?"

Her voice carried down the corridor, swallowed by the eerie silence that remained.

"Hello?"

Tara's desperation seeped through her words now, a desperate plea for any sound to shatter the oppressive quietness. Dawson's Creek, once a comforting companion, now seemed to taunt her vulnerability.

"Please. Quit tripping out. This is just Dawson up to his old tired tricks. There's no psychopath in this house."

"Fuck this."

Tara's patience wore thin, her nerves on edge as she disconnected herself from the monitors, their shrill alarms underscoring her own helplessness. With deft movements, she unhooked the uncomfortable nasal cannula from her nose and braced herself, the sharp pain from her cast colliding with the wheelchair's leg serving as a painful reminder of her limitations. Suppressing a cry of pain, she hoisted herself into the seat, the effort eliciting a whimper as her injured body strained. Clinging to the wheels, she propelled herself towards the door, the wounds on her palms reopening and drenching her bandages in fresh blood. Soft whimpers of agony accompanied her every move as she struggled to reach (Y/n), to alert her of the ominous sounds that could threaten them both.

She couldn't bear the thought of (Y/n) enduring the same horrors she had faced.

Reaching the end of the bed, a deafening ringing of her cellphone pierced the air, rendering Tara motionless. Her gaze dropped to her bloodied hands, the pain radiating up her arms like a symphony of agony, the shrill sound clamouring for her retreat. But the possibility of Saffron's danger galvanized her resolve, overriding her own suffering.

The corridor stretched before her, devoid of life, its emptiness heightening the chilling atmosphere. Ignoring her aching body, Tara maneuvered herself towards the reception area, a mixture of tears and sobs punctuating her progress. Desperation hung in the air as she hoped for a lifeline. The creaking of the wheels subsided, replaced by a wet, gurgling sound that sent shivers down her spine. Slowing to a halt, she observed the gruesome scene before her. An officer lay sprawled behind the reception desk, his uniform soaked in blood that spewed from a savage gash on his neck. Tara's face contorted in a mask of anguish, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the horrified gasp that escaped her lips. Dreadful realization gripped her – her fears were not unfounded; Ghostface had returned, and (Y/n)'s absence was far too long for Tara's comfort.

A sudden noise, the echo of a door closing, shattered Tara's stupor. Hastily, she wheeled herself into a nearby storage closet, a groan slipping from her lips as the blood-soaked bandages abraded her skin with every movement. Swinging the door shut, she left a slender crack through which she observed the corridor, her grip tightening on a landline she'd found, her trembling fingers desperate for a lifeline. Another door opened, and Tara's breath caught,

"Holy shit," she muttered under her breath. The footsteps grew closer, the thud of boots resonating like a heartbeat. Her fingers clenched around the phone, her only defense in this macabre dance.

As the heavy footsteps made their way towards the door, a blanket of black covered the small room, sending Tara into darkness. Her breath hitched as she attempted to stay quiet, gripping the phone tightly into her hand, knuckles turning white. A figure quickly popped their head in through the door, as Tara swung the phone in her hand with as much power as she could physically muster.

"Ow! Ow," Richie's pained cry echoed as he crumbled to his knees, his grip loosening on his throbbing head., "Goddamn it!"

"Richie?" Tara's gaze bore into him, suspicion lacing her voice. She inched her wheelchair back, her movements cautious and deliberate, as if he were a wounded animal on the verge of attack. Slowly, he pulled himself upright, using the door handle for support. "What are you doing here?"

"Sam called. She said that... you were in trouble." Still touching the spot on his head where he was hit he trailed off, thinking for a moment before his eyes glanced at the phone hanging from its cord.

"Did you hit me with a phone?"

Before Tara could answer, a familiar figure popped up behind Richie. Raising its knife to strike him, "Look out!" Richie swung around being face to face with the killer and their knife.

Richie's reflexes saved him, his arm instinctively raised to defend himself, but the blade still found purchase, carving a deep gash. The sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh reverberated through the room. Richie fought back, grappling with Ghostface in a desperate bid for survival. He clung to the wrist holding the knife, muscles straining as he wrestled for control. The room bore witness to their struggle, the tension suffocating.

Ghostface overpowered Richie, slamming him into the doorframe with a brutal force that left him limp and unresponsive. The scene hung in the air, frozen in time, as Tara absorbed the sight of Richie's motionless body and the shadowy figure that stood ominously before it. Ghostface turned towards her, tilting their head almost mockingly. The only chance of being saved she had was now lying in a heap before her, she was trapped.

With a surge of adrenaline, Tara shoved a monitor off a nearby table, sending it crashing onto Ghostface. As they grappled with the equipment, she seized her chance, propelling herself out of the room. Each movement was an agony, the searing pain from her injuries an unrelenting torment. Her eyes darted around the hallway, seeking an escape route. The elevator stood at the far end, a glimmer of hope beckoning in the darkness.

But it was a sight just outside the elevator that froze her in her tracks. (Y/n)'s bloodied form slumped against the doors, her pallor unnaturally ashen, eyes barely open, her body drenched in a grotesque tapestry of red. Their eyes met, the depth of their shared anguish unfurling between them in an instant, as Tara let out a scream of anguish.

Ghostface's chilling presence reappeared, the masked figure stalking towards Tara, savoring every moment of her terror. This was a twisted game to them, a sadistic symphony of agony orchestrated for their amusement. Tara could feel the walls closing in, every avenue of escape closing off one by one, the air thick with desperation.

They only wanted one thing, their sick and twisted game was going to end with both girls suffering the same fate.

Death

(Y/n)'s rhythmic foot-tapping on the cool pavement outside the bustling hospital entrance seemed like a minor rebellion against the day's clinical monotony. Overhead lights hummed with a steady cadence, while the cacophony of voices and footsteps surged like a river each time the door swung open. Sympathy and guilt had compelled her to venture out, bringing a taste of the outside world back to Tara – a meal that bore no resemblance to the sorry hospital fare.

The crispness of the air was a stark contrast to the confined, stuffy room she had been sharing with Tara. She had needed this brief reprieve, a moment to clear her mind and shake off the heavy emotional burden that had been pressing on her chest. As she let herself drift in the serenity of the moment, the world around her dissipated into a blur.

But then, a sudden thud shattered the tranquility. Her body tensed, a wave of unease crashing over her. It was as if a switch had been flipped, yanking her out of her peaceful reverie and back into the harsh reality. A chill raced down her spine as her senses sharpened, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm in her chest. The tranquility had been a facade – a fragile mirage that now lay shattered around her.

Her movements were slow, deliberate, as she turned to face the source of the noise. Dread knotted her stomach, and a cold sweat formed on her brow despite the gentle breeze that tousled her hair. The alley stretched before her, a corridor of shadow cast by the hospital's imposing structure. Trash cans lined the walls in uneven intervals, creating pockets of darkness that whispered with hidden potential.

Her gaze flitted from one corner to another, her pupils dilating as they fought to make sense of the murky gloom. Time seemed to slow as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, the sound of her own breath growing louder in her ears. It was the alleyway that was her blind spot all along, a trap that she had unknowingly set for herself.

The feeling of being watched crawled under her skin, a persistent sensation that refused to relent. Her muscles tensed, her senses on high alert as she scanned every inch of the alley, seeking out the slightest sign of movement. Her fear was no longer an abstract emotion; it was a tangible force that gripped her like a vise.

The uncertainty gnawed at her, her mind racing through scenarios and possibilities. Was it just her imagination, or was there a real threat lurking in the shadows? Her every instinct screamed at her to flee, to retreat back into the safety of the hospital's embrace. But her body remained rooted, a strange mix of curiosity and terror keeping her in place.

In the shifting dance between light and shadow, her imagination began to conjure shapes – figures that could have been lurking, waiting. Every whisper of wind seemed to echo with menace, every rustle of garbage sent a shiver down her spine. It was as if the very fabric of the alley had come alive, a living embodiment of her fear.

In this chilling tableau, (Y/n) stood at the precipice of action. The alleyway, once an inconspicuous backdrop, had morphed into a stage for a silent, sinister drama. The weight of her decisions pressed heavily upon her, each moment stretching into an eternity as she grappled with her next move.

Amidst the tense backdrop of the alley, a sharp and jarring ring erupted from (Y/n)'s pocket, the sound piercing through the heavy air like a sudden warning. Her phone's vibrations reverberated against her leg, a stark reminder of the urgent reality that was beginning to unravel around her. With a swift and practiced motion, she fished her cellphone from her pocket, her fingers trembling slightly with a mix of apprehension and adrenaline.

The screen illuminated, revealing the caller's name – Sam. Her heart raced as she registered the significance of the incoming call. In a world where danger lurked in every shadow, a call from someone close could carry critical information or a vital warning. Her mind raced as she weighed the importance of answering this call against the potential threat that lingered in the alleyway.

Before she could even consider her next move, the abrupt sound of a door slamming echoed through the confined space, a stark reminder of the lurking peril that demanded her attention. The killer – the very embodiment of the threat that had been gnawing at her senses – was out there, somewhere, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The reality of the situation surged back, and her instincts kicked into overdrive.

Frozen in shock, her hand still clutching the phone, she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, each heartbeat a reminder of the perilous situation she was in. Her heart waged a battle with her rationality – answer the call and possibly get much-needed information or stay hyperaware of her surroundings to avoid a potentially deadly encounter.

With her senses on high alert, she managed to answer the call, her voice edged with tension. She held the phone to her ear, her eyes sharply focused on the alleyway, her breath held as she strained to hear any sound – any hint of the danger that might be lurking in the darkness. The voice on the other end became a distant murmur as her attention remained riveted on the shadows, her mind racing to analyze every movement, every flicker of movement, ready to react at a moment's notice.

"(Y/n)?" Her urgent voice cracked through the phone's speakers, each syllable carrying a weight of concern that matched the gravity of the situation. "Are you still with Tara?"

(Y/n)'s eyes remained locked onto the oppressive darkness before her, her senses on high alert. The words poured from the phone, a lifeline to the outside world in a moment that felt far from safe. "I'm just standing outside the hospital, waiting on food," she replied, her voice carrying a tremor of unease. But Sam's call wasn't just a casual check-in, it held an undercurrent of urgency that (Y/n) couldn't ignore. "Why?"

A pause hung in the air, heavy and fraught with tension, as Sam's next words crashed into (Y/n)'s consciousness like an oncoming storm. "Wes and Officer Hicks were murdered and the deputy is here—" The news hit (Y/n) like a physical blow, a gut-punch of shock and horror that reverberated through her entire being. Wes, one of her best friends since childhood, was gone. Along with his mother who was the head of the entire investigation on Ghostface.

(Y/n)'s body went rigid, her grip on the phone tightening as her mind raced through the implications of Sam's words. Panic surged within her, the realization striking like a bolt of lightning – if the deputy was gone from his post at the hospital, who was guarding Tara? Her thoughts spiraled into a frenzy, every worst-case scenario playing out in her mind's eye, a cruel montage of potential threats.

Before Sam could continue, before her mind could fully grapple with the sheer vulnerability of the situation, (Y/n)'s voice cut through the connection, her urgency and fear spilling forth. "Sam, get here as fast as you possibly can—"

It was a decision born out of desperation, a gamble made in the haze of fear. The door, positioned halfway down the ominous alley, loomed before her like a lifeline – a portal that could potentially lead her back to the safety of Tara's side. (Y/n)'s heart raced, each thud a reminder of the seconds ticking away, the precious moments that separated her from danger and sanctuary.

Without hesitation, fueled by adrenaline and a singular purpose, (Y/n)'s legs churned as she sprinted down the alley. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her shoes barely touching the ground as if propelled by sheer willpower. The thought of Tara, vulnerable and alone, provided a pulse of urgency that propelled her forward despite the terror gnawing at her heels.

The door, unassuming yet laden with potential, drew closer with each stride. Her trembling hand gripped the handle, the cold metal a stark contrast to her heated skin. In her frantic rush, even the simplest action felt like a monumental task. The door resisted, a stubborn barrier between her and the haven she sought. With a surge of determination, she managed to wrench it open, her body propelled into the relative safety of the hospital's stairwell.

The rush of relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by the stark realization that safety was a fragile illusion. She glanced around, her eyes scanning for any means to secure the entrance, to lock out the danger lurking in the shadows. Her gaze settled on a latch positioned overhead, a glimmer of hope in the dimly lit corridor.

Her fingers, slick with sweat and trembling with urgency, reached for the latch. Stretching on her tiptoes, her heart hammering against her ribs, she managed to engage the lock. A sigh of relief brushed her lips, a fleeting moment of victory as she turned to ascend the stairs that would take her to Tara.

But destiny is a cruel mistress, and the instant she turned around, a cold wall of black fabric met her, halting her progress. Panic surged like a tidal wave, her heart leaping to her throat as she gazed into the abyss of a familiar and malevolent presence.

They hadn't remained trapped in the alley, they hadn't faltered in their pursuit. They had anticipated her move, outmaneuvered her once again. And now, in this suffocating confrontation, the balance between life and death seemed as fragile as a spider's thread.

(Y/n)'s weary gaze remained fixated on Tara’s figure as she battled through the torment in her body to reach her. The moist, sickening sound of her bloodied hands against the wheels echoed in her ears as she desperately moved away from the looming presence of Ghostface, who lingered ominously behind her.

Numbness had spread through (Y/n)'s body, the pain becoming a distant sensation amidst the overwhelming chaos. Each movement sent shocks of agony, a relentless reminder of her recent ordeal. Her hands, coated in her own life fluid, struggled to propel her fragile form across the sterile hospital floor, leaving a macabre trail in her wake. The weight of exhaustion threatened to collapse her, her weakened form almost crumpling as she ventured away from the reassuring support of the wall.

The taste of desperation mingled with the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, as if her very life force was seeping away with every agonizing inch she managed to cover.

Richie’s cell phone erupted into a shrill ring, and Ghostface spun around, reaching toward Richie's slumped body to extract the phone from his pocket. Their gloved fingers cautiously pressed a button near the bottom of their mask, causing it to start flashing red. (Y/n) strained to make out the concerned tone of Sam’s voice through the phone's speaker, though the words remained elusive.

“Hello, Samantha!” Ghostface's distorted voice sliced through the air, stalking closer to a terror-stricken Tara, who had managed to put some distance between them, but the gap could be closed quickly.

“Richie can’t come to the phone right now. He’s finding out what happens to people who stick their noses in business that doesn’t concern them.”

“I’ll tell you what you can choose; I’ll only kill one,” the distorted voice continued, chilling (Y/n) to her core.

Sam's voice, desperate and pleading, cut through the phone's crackling. (Y/n) shifted her gaze briefly to Tara, who was putting more space between herself and the advancing Ghostface, her sobs growing louder.

“Who do you want to hear die?”

Amidst the fear and tension, Sam's desperate cries carried through the line, and Ghostface reveled in the torment, his taunts aimed at the terrified girls. (Y/n) knew that Ghostface's intention was to kill both of them, but she clung to a flicker of hope that Sam's plan might ensure Tara's survival.

“Really? You can’t save your own sister? All you have to do is say 'Kill Richie,' because I don’t think (Y/n)’s making it out either way!”

With an adrenaline-fueled surge, (Y/n)'s resolve solidified. If she couldn't escape this nightmare, she was willing to give her life to protect the person she loved most.

“Fuck you!” Tara's scream echoed through the hallway as Ghostface charged toward her. The wheelchair crashed to the floor, and Tara began crawling toward (Y/n), her fingers desperately gripping the cold linoleum.

“Or say 'Kill Tara!' And I’ll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time!”

Tara's fingers found (Y/n)'s side, gripping her as she attempted to shield her from Ghostface’s impending attack.

“Last chance to save one, choose!” Ghostface's taunting voice pierced the air, echoing the desperate plea from Sam through the phone.

(Y/n) heard Sam's voice, laced with grief and pain, clearer than ever, “Why are you doing this?”

“You want to know why, Sam? Maybe it's because you’re a selfish bitch, who can’t even make a decision to save the life of someone you love.”

“Maybe you’re too weak for this franchise!”

Ghostface's legs closed in around both girls, (Y/n) straining to shield Tara from the imminent danger. She was prepared to bear the brunt of the attack, if it meant giving Tara a chance to escape. Tara's grip tightened, and her voice rose in defiance.

“Maybe you’re right?” Sam's voice sounded broken, defeated. (Y/n)'s heart sank; had Sam truly given up?

“Or maybe I’m just stalling for time, fuckhead!”

A sudden ping signaled the opening of the elevator doors, interrupting Ghostface's impending strike. Startled, Ghostface looked away for a fleeting moment. In that instant, (Y/n)'s heart raced, her hope rekindling. Through the elevator doors stood Sam and Dewey. Dewey fired off several shots down the hallway, sending Ghostface retreating and disappearing into a different corridor.

Dewey sprinted to Richie's side, who was sprawled a few meters behind, while Sam rushed to (Y/n) and Tara. (Y/n)'s vision wavered, the agony in her body muddling her perception of the chaos around her. She strained to hear Tara's soft whimpers amidst the commotion as Sam worked to move her sister.

Guiding Tara toward the elevator doors, Sam reassured (Y/n) that she would be back for her as soon as Tara was safely inside. Dewey, with his arm under Richie, led him back, but their progress was abruptly halted as Ghostface reappeared. In the ensuing struggle, Richie was thrown to the ground, and Dewey and Ghostface locked in a fierce grapple, colliding into walls and grappling each other.

The fight escalated, both men grappling and wrestling for control, until they crashed onto the floor. Dewey's gun skidded across the tiles, out of reach. Ghostface lunged, attempting to strike Dewey, but the seasoned officer managed to use his strength to headbutt Ghostface, buying him a moment to seize his gun. When Dewey turned, Ghostface charged once more, knife poised for a lethal strike. Dewey acted swiftly, firing several shots into Ghostface's chest, propelling him into a glass shelf with a shattering crash.

With Richie in his arms, Dewey retreated, heading back to (Y/n), who lay motionless on the floor. Gently lifting her, he heard her faint whimpering—a sign that she was alive. He swiftly pressed the elevator's call button, ushering them inside as the doors slid open.

The events inside the elevator remained a blur to (Y/n), her consciousness slipping. Richie's arms provided a faint anchor, and Dewey's voice seemed distant as he vanished from view. The resonating ring in her ears drowned out the ensuing conversations, though she surmised that Dewey was likely heading back to deal with Ghostface for good.

“Dewey, who cares?” Sam's voice echoed, her urgency palpable as she sought to ensure no further lives were lost.

The elevator doors began to close on Dewey's retreating figure, his final words reaching (Y/n)'s ears like a distant echo, “I do.”

[redladydeath]

re: your vox mindbreak au, it's such a fascinating scenario with so many avenues of interest.

does vox definitively become one of alastor's thralls. you know, just like nifty is even though we're not sure her soul is alastor.

what sort of conflicts of interests would occur if he's still — if not commercially then emotionally, to them — part of the vees?

would alastor drag him to the hotel, making him a reluctant staff member, even though it fails to capture his interest? what surprising dynamics would crop up?

and if it occurs during/post-canon, and the hotel ensemble knew who vox used to be, would this irrevocably change his relationship with the cast who do not know alastor's cruelty? does vox have dysphoria when he remembers his head isn't a CRT, and then forgets, and then remembers, and then forgets, and then—? please reply asap im going insane.

Oh gosh, thank you. It's really flattering when people show interest in my weird little ideas.

does vox definitively become one of alastor's thralls

Not definitely. I have two avenues for this AU: One where the mindbreak happens in the 1960s, when Alastor and Vox have their first big fight, and one where it happens in the modern day, when Vox is part of the Vees. In the 60s route, he's one of Al's thralls; in the modern route, Alastor vanishes (possibly for seven years) immediately after breaking him and Val and Velvette are left to deal with the aftermath.

what sort of conflicts of interests would occur if he's still part of the vees?

Oh God, the subconscious yearning. Vox can't remember why he cares so much about these two random overlords, but he demonstrably does. He wouldn't feel so drawn to them and their products if they weren't important in some way. If Alastor ever ordered him to hurt them, he'd probably refuse (or at least try to talk his way out of it), which never happens anymore.

would alastor drag him to the hotel, making him a reluctant staff member, even though it fails to capture his interest? what surprising dynamics would crop up?

Of course! He's basically Alastor's loyal pet now– no reason not to bring him along! The hotel is novel enough that he's not particularly bored (always some wacky nonsense happening there!), even if the whole redemption thing is a bit out of his depth and doesn't feel possible.

Vox scares the absolute crap out of Husk. Knowing Niffty wasn't just a one-off and that Alastor is willing to do this to someone he considered a friend just because he didn't like his attitude is terrifying. Vox would also end up pretty close with Niffty, not because of their shared situation (neither of them are really aware of that), but because her 1950s sensibilities are comforting and familiar to him– she always makes sense to him in a way the rest of the world just doesn't. She also wouldn't even be remotely bothered by the constant out-of-nowhere topic changes or the short-term memory loss, so that's a plus.

and if it occurs during/post-canon, and the hotel ensemble knew who vox used to be, would this irrevocably change his relationship with the cast who do not know alastor's cruelty?

Oh yeah. I think seeing Alastor do something this extreme and unnecessary would be the final straw for Charlie. She's not even comfortable with killing genocidal freaks like Adam; no matter what Vox did, she wouldn't be okay with this. Plus, actually seeing him do this would make it click for everyone that maybe Niffty's not just some funny little creature, which would feel incredibly violating in retrospect given how much they've all come to care about her. Charlie would kick Alastor out of the hotel, which he'd be thrilled about, although he might end up back on their doorstep due to the constraints of his contract.

does vox have dysphoria when he remembers his head isn't a CRT, and then forgets, and then remembers, and then forgets, and then—?

Imo, in both routes he'd probably go back to the original 1950s set that he manifested with. It's just something he feels compelled to do– it's what Alastor would want him to do, after all. He'd probably need help making the change, but Alastor would do so happily / Velvette would do so reluctantly if that's what'll make him feel comfortable. I have a mental image where, when he first wakes up after The Incident, the first sign that something's wrong is that his display is fully black and white, despite the fact he's still using the modern flatscreen. But yeah, I imagine there'd be a lot of loops of "something is wrong– nevermind!– something is wrong– nevermind!" about various things, whether it's his body, the situation, or the presence/absence of certain people.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Messy/Jumbled Thoughts On Azula in the Spirit Temple

Obviously my initial reaction to it was not particularly glowing and excited to say the least. But after some discord chatting and discussion with my IRL friend I have come to conclude very solidly that I have no idea how to feel about this one. And I'm genuinely not sure if Hicks was trying to make Azula sympathetic or trying to make her completely irredeemable.

So one of the things that makes it confusing to me is how Azula declares that she does not want redemption because it is for the weak. And how she chooses to end by saying that she'd just find new followers to control. Off the bat to me that just felt like a nail in the coffin. A solid she's not getting redeemed.

But then my IRL friend pointed out that she started the comic by declaring that she was going to take revenge on her ex-companions. But ended up finding them and choosing to leave them alone instead.

To me this kind of felt like a massive cope on Azula's end like the equivelent of "fine, I didn't need you guys anyways! I'll find new *~better~* friends!" Like a way of masking how upset it made her to see them having fun without her. Or that she's in denial about how much it hurts.

But my IRL friend thinks that her choosing to just let them be is a sign that there was some progress made despite her declaring that she didn't want redemption.

Which leads to some of the discord discussion that I found insightful. Someone (let me know if you want me to name you) pointed out that pretty much all of the comic was the spirit showing Azula her own inner thoughts; in other words Azula was calling herself a monster and a bad person and what not.

Which, honestly, could be why the comic felt so confusing and disjointed??? Azula is confused and conflicted and we're seeing this through her eyes so it's conflicting and disjointed.

Azula has enough awareness to know that she's not a good person and that some stuff is her fault but she also acknowledges that she's not entirely to blame. I'm talking about 'Ursa' asking Azula what she is and Azula responding "alone, betrayed over and over..." and declaring that it's basically not her fault vs 'Mai' saying "maybe you're a terrible person who gets what she deserves."

Baring in mind that this is a manifestation of Azula's thoughts; she simultaneously sees herself as a victim and as a bad person.

And honestly I can actually see that making sense; people tend to be their own harshest critics. All abuse cases are different but many abuse victims blame themselves while also acknowledging that the abuser is to blame at the same time.

I feel like it's actually not entirely off base for someone in Azula's situations to have conflicting thoughts. Facing yourself for who you are, including (and especially) the worst parts of yourself is not easy. It is embarrassing even in ones own mind to admit wrongdoing. Almost everyone has that one embarrassing memory that still makes them blush when they remember it while lying alone at 2AM. It's sort of like that but worse. It is hard to put aside pride and ego even in privet. Now try doing that with a spirit watching and judging you.

Azula is facing down the worst parts of herself in an almost physical sense. And I think that she doesn't know who to blame or how to portion out the blame. Like she has difficulty telling how much of it is her fault vs how she was raised. Out of her mouth is all of the stuff about how its everyone else's fault. But then the manifestations of her thoughts say the exact opposite. She is literally at war with herself.

And she's scared and she lashes out when she's scared. She covers fear and insecurity with either anger or nonchalance. So when 'Zuko' asks her to repent so to speak, of course she says no. She's effectively being backed into a corner. She's on the defensive. And also 'Zuko' has taken on a monstrous and terrifying form. I wouldn't not shoot lightning at that.

Not to mention that, the entire time Azula is talking about how the spirit is manipulating her and that none of it is real. I imagine that, that makes it that much harder to face herself because she's effectively being gaslit in a sense. Like it doesn't feel real to her, she doesn't trust it--rightfully so tbh. She says that she thinks she is being lied to. Of course she isn't being open minded to what she is being shown. It isn't being done in good faith.

I think that my biggest hang up is how she was 'offered redemption'. Putting that in air quotes because was that really a chance at redemption? The spirit didn't put her in a situation conducive to meaningful change. To me it was almost just one more added trauma on top of what she was already dealing with. It's basically similar to Azula going to see a therapist but the therapist is terrible at their job and digs up trauma while offering no coping skills nor advice.

Instead of giving her advice or support this spirit tries to terrify/shock Azula into changing. This spirit put Azula massively on the defense and wondered why she was getting defensive. Literally all of her traumas, fears, and triggers were being thrown in her face and she was supposed to make something of it?

I'm no therapist but I'm pretty sure that that's not how change works.

Azula was getting yelled at and shamed for not wanting to change or acknowledge that she needs to. But the spirit who was trying to 'help' didn't give her ANYTHING to work with. No words of encouragement or coping tools. Nothing but showing her things that terrified and upset her.

It's like trying to teach someone who is afraid of water to swim by throwing them into the ocean and getting mad when (after being pulled out of the water) they come out more terrified than they were prior.

And this is what confuses me about how AitST is supposed to be interpreted. Are we supposed to see the spirit as the asshole or Azula as stubborn? I know how I see it, but how did Hicks intend it to be portrayed?

This was supposed to be the 'see if Azula is going to start her redemption path once and for all' comic. But was she TRUELY even offered a redemption? Because I don't think so. To me that was just Azula getting another layer of trauma to work through. And nothing about that situation she was in could even be remotely conducive to meaningful/long term change.

Speaking on my own experience alone; change and habit breaking, becoming one's best self while facing down their worst requires a few things; comfort, encouragement, support, enthusiasm, and stability.

Azula was terrified, alone, uncomforted, antagonized, and cornered. She was in a setting exactly the opposite of what is needed when someone is trying to make a change or do some hard introspection.

And now I'm left wondering if Hicks meant for the spirit to be seen as the asshole or if the comic was trying to say, 'look she chose not to walk the path to redemption.'

Right now it feels like they're gonna take the easy way out and leave her as the villain and point to the comic and say, 'see, she had her chance.' To which I say, "Did she? Did she actually?" But who knows maybe we are supposed to see that spirit as an unhelpful and evil. Maybe her walking away and not taking the vengeance she vowed is a good sign.

TL;DR: How the hell is this even supposed to be interpreted. What is the tone??? Is this Azula sympathetic or anti-Azula. Because I genuinely can't tell.

Never have I been so confused about a thing I have read.

[radioisntdead]

Hihihi

I read the request you wrote for lucifer, and it made me so happy!!!!

And, I do have one more request, could you maybe generally write for the hazbin group finding out the readers cause of death being from a roller coaster, and them not knowing who they are? (Could it maybe be a song fic using the ballad of Jane doe?)

Or

A platonic angel dust fic with the reader talking(singing) about their previous family and / or life? Along with them breaking down at the end, with a small bit of comfort from angel dust? (Dead mom from beetle juice)

You can choose either or, it doesn't really matter to me :)

With love,

-Xin 💙

Good evening my dear! So glad to have you sending in another request,

I AM A MAJOR RIDE THE CYCLONE FAN, I FORCED MY BEST FRIEND TO WATCH IT WITH ME AND GOT EM' HOOKED ON IT, I WATCHED IT AS I WROTE RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I CRIED IT IS A GREAT MUSICAL, I GREATLY RECOMMEND IT, IT'S ALLEGEDLY ON YOUTUBE

Reader much like Jane Doe is going to be a doll, I like to call this, reader having a lil existential crisis during a trust exercise turned life stories sharing time.

Also I'll tag you like I did last time! @fuck-this-shit-xin

The fallen saint

People who live in the hazbin hotel x gn reader

Warnings!

Death, decapitation, dolls, I am still terrified of dolls why did I add them? I don't know, accidentally implied underage drinking but the reader isn't underage, reader and Angel are very loosely implied to be besties because yes

Ballad of Jane doe

You came to the hotel confused and scared, you found a flyer that advertised and you thought that it'd be better then the chaos in the other parts of hell.

You didn't remember much about your life, just that you died from a rollercoaster accident with your friends? Classmates? Family? You didn't remember,

The last thing you remember was someone clutching your hand saying something that was muffled over the screams before a sharp piece of metal sliced your throat and you saw the sky.

Sometimes you get glimpses of life before, school uniforms, arcades, lights, someone saying a muffled name, holding you, smiling at you.

Who were they? A friend? Family?

You wish you knew.

Charlie was the most sympathetic to your situation, embracing you with open arms into the hotel, imagine not knowing who you were? Well you didn't have to imagine.

You were practically a clean slate, perfect for redemption no matter what you did in the past, because you weren't that person anymore.

Charlie had organized a trust exercise that had pinwheeled into mild drunken shenanigans venting about life and how they lived before they died, Husk had revealed that he apparently had a child somewhere that caused a small commotion of "YOU HAD A WHAT-" and that turned into Sir Pentious saying he missed his son,

Niffty brought up some guy she was obsessed with while alive that may or may not have died it wasn't clear, Vaggie revealed small, very small parts about her life in heaven and being an exorcist, Angel dust brought up his family that was in hell and his twin sister Molly who was the only one to go above, and even Alastor was in the conversation talking about his mother and what a wonderful mother she was.

And then it came to you, cradling a alcoholic beverage.

"I wish I knew what my life was like, like What did I do end up down here? I mean I know I died because of a rollercoaster but I don't think that was a sin." You said your fingers circling your glass, Angel dust patting your shoulder in support.

"I'm sure it wasn't anything that bad"

"You probably set orphanages on fire, I can see you doing that" Niffty chimed in staring into your soul

"Niffty what the hell."

You took a breath as music began to play, one of the things you don't expect in death is that everything becomes a musical.

"Some might say we're release, pushing daisies, deceased,"

You place the glass you were holding onto the table in front of you before standing up from the couch you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"But we all know the worms must be fed,"

"And They're singing." Husk muttered taking a swig of his drink as he was told to hush.

"There's just one lingering fear, Oh my soul, is it here?"

It was a silly question but was it? Most Hellborn supposedly didn't have souls but they were still alive in someway, was it the same case with you? Is that why you couldn't remember? Was your soul back on earth where you perished?

You let one of your hands drift up to your neck, feeling the thread stitching that kept your head attached to your neck, it was slightly lighter then the rest of your body, reminiscent of a dolls.

"Or is it rotting somewhere with my head?"

The people you mostly considered friends [Alastor was on a thin line of friend or weird smiley guy that lived in the hotel] watched you pace around.

"Oh my soul"

Who were you?

"Oh my soul"

What did you do? What didn't you do?

''Oh my soul''

What regrets did you have? Did you live life to the fullest? Who did you love, who did you cherish? Did you have friends? Family? Who were they?

"Oh my soul''

"Ooh...Ooh...Ahh...Ahh... ah''

You missed people you didn't even remember,

Were you loved? Hated?

Did someone miss you? Who did you die with? What did you do to end up here? Did you kill someone? Did you set an orphanage on fire like Niffty suggested?

The people that appeared in your dreams, who's faces were blurred, that would disappear when you tried to reach out to them, were they real or were they just from your dreaming state?

"Oh no soul, and no name"

Everyone had come up with their own nickname for you, typically something related to dolls like doll, Dollface, Dolly, Raggedy Ann, Raggedy Andy or Chucky etc

That last one was from Husk.

you didn't mind it but you desperately wanted to know what your name was, did you get to choose it? Or was it given to you? Did you like it? Did you want to change it? Did you go by a nickname instead? Was it long? Was it short? Was it fancy or simple? Were you named after someone? Oh how you desperately wished to know.

"And no story, what a shame.."

Was your life exciting? Dull? Did you wish for something more?

"Cruel existence was only a sham?"

Dying in a rollercoaster accident was odd, insane and tragic, you showed up in hell with a uniform, were you a student? Did you attend some weird uniform requiring college? You died with others you knew them didn't you? Did you die with strangers or did you die with people you knew?

Tears swelled in your glassy, shiny doll-like eyes

"Oh Saint Peter, let me in!"

Charlie and Vaggie shared a look, recalling the whole welcome to heaven thing and him straight up moaning in song.

"You must know where I've been, Won't you tell me at last who I am?"

You could bare it, being in hell, it was horrible because it was hell but everyone else knew who they were, somewhat, they had a name that they chose or got, they had some semblemblance of an identity,

So why didn't you?

"Who I am,"

It wasn't fair, it really wasn't

"Who I am"

Everyone in the room knew who they were, they remembered their lives or in Charlie's case her life so far.

"Who I am"

You didn't ask for much, you helped out at the hotel, you gleefully participated in the exercises, you were a decent person, at least now you were if you weren't before.

"Who I am"

Would you get your memories back if you went to heaven?

"Ooh...Ooh...Ahh...Ahh... ah"

Or would you completely lose your memories again, would you have to start all over again?

You didn't want to forget the folks in the hazbin hotel, they were your friends right?

Right?

It'd be one thing if you lost your memories here but it'd be just cruel if you lost them again, you didn't want to lose them again you desperately clung to the glimpses you got of the past, you needed to keep the memories of the present.

"And from the ground, beneath my feet, I hear the anguish of the street"

You glanced outside the window, people were doing whatever they did, someone was actively getting stabbed they probably remembered who they were.

"A choir never complete"

Something flashed in your head

You died in a choir, you were apart of a choir,

You were apart of something, you sung with them, were you all close? Were you like family?

Where were they? Would they recognize you if they saw you now?

Would they? Would you recognize them? Would all your memories come rushing back in an instant like in the movies?

"And like an old forgotten tune, a song that no one knows..."

A appeared in your arms, a doll that had been gifted to you by Angel dust for a day they had dubbed your birthday, they threw you a party and everything, confetti, balloons, cake, you got a few gifts that you treasured, from Charlie, sir Pentious, hell even Alastor gave you a weird doodle of you that laid with the other gifts.

You held it close to you.

"Forgot how it goes, just John, Jane and me"

You didn't name the doll John or Jane, you didn't know a John or a Jane, or maybe you did? Anyways you carried it around with you, finding it as a source of comfort for when your friends weren't nearby

"Forever eternally, Doll Doe"

You hugged the doll tighter as a tear slipped slid down your doll-like face,

You were angry, what had you done to deserve this? You should at least know what condemned you here? What sin was so bad to warrant this?

"And I'm askin' why lord,"

The effects kicked in as the room went darker as your voice raised, desperation, confusion.

"If this is how I die, lord"

Why couldn't you have a normal death at least! Did anyone even find your head? Was it eaten by animals? Did it hit some poor person trying to have a fun day at the amusement park?

"Why be left with no family"

The hotel residents began to develop a found family relationship, and you were apart of it, you loved it but, what was your family from before like? Did you even have one?

"And no friends?"

Assuming no one you knew had fallen down below, you didn't die alone but you came alone while the others had ascended to above.

"Ooh."

Background vocals came in out of nowhere lowkey freaking out some of your friends, Vaggie had already gotten her spear ready to Incase, of something maybe if the voices decided to attack

"I've got no celebration, just this consolation,"

Did you even have a funeral? Was it closed casket? Who attended?

"Time eats all his children, In the end"

You had questions and you wanted answers.

"Ahhh..."

Freaky disembodied background vocals

"A melody floats through the air, when silence falls, does no one care?"

You were human once, you didn't care what genre your life fell into, comedy, horror, tragedy, thriller, if you played the role of a villain or a hero, a funny side character, you just wanted to know

"Does anyone care?"

Where were the background vocals coming from, they were freaky.

"Another sad, forgotten tune"

Your story laid forgotten, abandoned on some bookshelf like a book a teenager brought thinking they'd like it but they couldn't even make it past the first page so it lays, rotting away.

"Another song that no one knows"

You wanted to go back, you wanted to live your life again, you didn't know what it entailed but you would do anything, make a deal, throw whatever afterlife you had away.

"So that's how it goes!''

No, you would keep the afterlife you were given, you cherished the memories you've made here.

"Just John, Jane and me"

Your life was cut short wasn't it? What didn't you get to experience, what didn't your choir experience?

Why did you all have to die that day? Why did the rollercoaster have to derail, why didn't they check it?

"Forever eternally, Dollface Doe"

"And she's asking why, lord?"

The disembodied voices were in all honesty a nice touch to the song, still freaky though especially since was now dolls scattered around the area, is that where the voices were coming from?

"Why, oh why, oh why, oh why...?"

Why?

You were the one who convinced your choir to go on the rollercoaster, you begged them offering to buy them snacks after,

They agreed, you didn't know.

Was that the thing that condemned you here??

"This is no way to die, lord!"

At least getting decapitated by a rollercoaster made for a good conversation starter, probably.

"No one to sing, no one to sigh"

You only got glimpses, sometimes a nostalgic feeling for something you couldn't remember no matter how desperately you wanted too.

"Now that all is said and done"

Life had ended, afterlife had only begun,

You couldn't go back, no matter what you did, even if you sold your soul, a soul you weren't sure you even had anymore.

"Isn't there anyone to tell me who I am?"

You were turned away from your friends, you didn't want to see the pitying face some of them probably had.

"No singing songs of celebration''

Were you someone who liked to party? A homebody? Were you a sweetheart? Did people say you had a heart of stone,

"Just this sorry speculation"

You could try and force yourself to remember but in the best case scenario you could get a glimpse and a headache, and the worse case you'd be left clutching your doll trying to comfort yourself with a horrible headache.

"Like John and Jane I'll be eternally"

Maybe you should give up on trying to figure out who you were, try to forget that you ever lived before this.

"A forgotten name, some lost refrain"

If anything, you didn't have to have your memories back completely, if you could just remember your name.

"Just 'Doll' "

You closed your eyes, clutching the doll.

"Dolly..."

The freaky dolls that appeared sneaked close, Vaggie stabbed one like a doll kabob

"Doe!"

You twirled and landed back in your seat, you leaned to the table to grab your drink again, intending to down it as the dolls finished your lament.

"A melody floats through the air, when silence falls, does no one care?"

The room began to lighten back up again as the creepy little dolls poofed away one by one, including the kabobbed one.

"Doll Doe."

You got a hug from a tearful Charlie and a two handed headpat from Angel since he couldn't really do anything else since you were trapped in Charlie's hug.

Charlie would later note that it was a successful trust exercise since everyone including you had opened up a little bit, you felt relieved to get that lament of yours off your chest, it didn't change much but breaking out in song was oddly therapeutic, you guessed that's why others did it so often!

Would you ever regain your memories? You didn't know, but for now you would try to remember anything from your past while making new memories with your friends at the Hazbin hotel.

Good evening folks! thank you for tuning on in, this has gotta be one of my favorite songfics to write to date, AGAIN I REALLY RECOMMEND RIDE THE CYCLONE, thank you for tuning in I hope you enjoyed! Goodnight folks!

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

heyyyyyyy so in the malnourished fwhip explanation post you said you'd get back to the thing about gem and fwhip not liking that they got first pick during the famine and i fully agree with you. if it also you said you'd get back to it and you didn't and you're good at articulating things so I would like to hear you elaborate if you are willing

OH yeah. i had planned to get into that in the section where i talked about fwhip continuing to use the corrupted fertilizer because it works so well that it means his people are fed, but i didn’t elaborate much further than that. so i shall now!

(context for this can be found here, in case you missed that post!)

so as i said previously, when famine strikes the grimlands and the royal family have their food needs prioritized, this is something that fwhip and gem, despite both being very young, find awful. i think both of these kids have very strong senses of justice (cough because they’re both autistic cough), gem especially, since she’s the one being trained to be the next countess, so she’s a lot more worldly than fwhip at that point. fwhip is approaching this from a basic fairness standpoint- everyone needs to eat, it’s not fair that he and his family get priority. gem is approaching this based on her experience in other empires and her conversations with other to be emperors- this is not how a good ruler treats their people, a good ruler tries to put their people first always.

i think this manifests in a variety of different ways when they get older. for fwhip, this manifests in putting his people’s food needs above his own when it comes to the corrupted fertilizer. if the fertilizer was giving everybody else nightmares, he would’ve heard about it by now, so clearly it’s just him. that means the fertilizer is a net good, so it stays. i think fwhip is a weird and very distant ruler, one who thinks of himself as a little too equal with his people, and that can be good and bad. something like this, where he puts the people’s need for food above his own wants is (for everyone else) good, but it also means he doesn’t really register how much more important his actions are than anyone else’s. for someone else in the grimlands (or even for fwhip just a few years ago, when he was still the kid brother to the rising countess), blowing up your friend’s house might get you in trouble, but it’s not a big deal. for modern day fwhip, it’s literally an act of war. “peace is boring” is a very frightening attitude for a ruler to hold, and he holds it because he wasn’t properly trained to be count, he’s still very young, and he views himself and his people as pretty much the same when, unfortunately, they just aren’t.

for gem, i think what this does for her behavior doesn’t manifest for her a while. she ran away from the grimlands because she wanted to be a wizard, she wanted to be anything but countess, and i think she did fundamentally believe fwhip would do better than she could. so she becomes a wizard in a very insulated community, and then her instructor disappears and leaves the entire place in her care, and that freaks her out. yes, she was trained to have far greater responsibilities than this, there aren’t even any students for her to train yet, but being in charge scares her still. she so desperately wants to be a good ruler, a better one than anyone in her family line has been for a while, because she’s been up close and personal with bad ones. and i think for gem specifically that manifests in her wanting to be a just ruler. very few people are ever fully beyond redemption for gem. her pillager students just need to put their weapons down, and then they’re ready to learn! see, they weren’t really evil, just angry and armed. sausage has good left in him, even at his worst, she knows it. she just needs to draw it out of him, at any cost. scott didn’t mean to hurt her, he was just scared and she pushed him too far, that’s on her. i think the only person she sees as truly, 100% beyond redemption, who she never really changes her tune on, is xornoth. even the other emperors she isn’t a fan of i don’t think she thinks are irredeemably evil, they’re just assholes and she’s gonna be an asshole back (or she’s gonna let the other WRA members do it). (the only outlier to that is maybe joey. at some point after he gets the crown from xornoth, somebody says he’s most likely beyond saving, and that somebody might be gem but i can’t remember. if it is, i think she had simply run out of energy for second chances for him, and he’s not her responsibility anyways, so she feels less bad about doing it to him than say, a student of hers. if she isn’t the one who says that, disregard.) she is trying to extend justice, to extend second tries to everyone. arguably she even tries this with xornoth, when she tries to learn more about him when he first shows up, but he also made it very clear he had no intentions of improving, so.

TLDR: i think both roseblings are affronted at the fact that because they are nobility, they are inherently better treated in times of crisis. for fwhip, this is because he thinks it’s unfair, that he’s not inherently better than the people of the grimlands, so it’s unfair for him to be treated as such. for gem, she thinks it’s unjust. a good ruler, a just one, would put their people first. so when they get older, this manifests in a variety of ways. for fwhip, he views himself less as a count and more as just another citizen of the grimlands, a tinkerer with a penchant for explosions and not much more. this means in times of crisis he puts the needs of the many over the needs of the few, but it also means he doesn’t think about how much more weight his actions carry with the other empires than the actions of a regular person. for gem, this manifests as trying to extend justice, a helping hand, a second chance, to everyone she can. even at her detriment, there are very few people she believes are totally beyond saving, and she tries as best she can to save them.

[bonefall]

you talk about clear sky likes he’s this huge tyrant or something. now i haven’t read dawn of the clans in a long time but was he really that bad? i don’t remember a lot of things that happen in that arc btw. or did you make him even worse with the bonefall rewrite??

i should reread dawn of the clans

Things Canon Clear Sky does;

Throw his disabled brother into the wilderness to die

Reject his only surviving son because its mother died in a building collapse after leaving in protest of all his violence

Come back only once that son is grown and useful

Refuse to care for a clanmate with an infected wound, kicking him out

Tells his son to lick the pus off his friend's wound if he cares about him so much, publicly

A lot of public humiliation in general

Is 1 of 2 suspects in the mauling of a battered housewife who dies of her injuries

General warmongering

Responds to the idea of peace talks by taking a prisoner of war

Starves that prisoner of war to the point of emaciation after promising to care for him while he's detained

Starts the bloody First Battle when the starving prisoner of war catches a bat because he hasn't eaten in days

Dozens of people die in this completely pointless and avoidable fight. They cannot dig the mass grave in one day.

Murders Rainswept Flower during this, saying he "got so mad he didn't know what he was doing". This is accepted as a reasonable excuse lmao something is deeply wrong with these writers.

And that's all BEFORE the "Redemption Arc." He continues to act like this but now the narrative decides he's good now and everyone's mean to him for holding him accountable for his actions, he's so sorry guys :(((

After his redemption arc;

Loudly whines and complains that StarClan is forcing him to take an outsider, Micah, as a doctor

Treats him poorly while he's in SkyClan, shown to be verbally abusive every time it comes up (Micah insists he's not so bad if you give it back to him, though this is shown to not be true)

Foists a Clanborn apprentice onto him immediately, Acorn Fur, with the implication that she will replace him as soon as possible.

Refuses to allow Moth Flight and Micah to gather sap for another Clan, knowing denying medicine will kill someone

Orders Red Claw to fight Micah, getting Micah killed

Refuses to allow Moth Flight to finish Acorn Fur's training

When his baby son gets mauled by a fox, he refuses to allow Acorn Fur to go get help until infection sets in

He blames Wind Runner for this because she held Moth Flight back for like 5 minutes.

Holds Moth Flight as a prisoner of war when she needs that sap again until Wind Runner apologizes for killing his baby

So in short; he is canonically an awful tyrant and I'm barely making him any worse in my rewrite. I'm just making it so he doesn't have a failed 'redemption arc' because he didn't even actually change in-canon.

I don't care how "scared and sad" he was when he was doing war crimes. His motivations are piss poor excuses for justifications and his botched redemption arc is one of the worst plots the writers ever hatched.

[raayllum]

it’s high key really annoying the attention toh gets on this website while no one acknowledges tdp exists

Yeah, sometimes I wish TDP got more recognition and appreciation in a fandom space for its storytelling (the parallels, the worldbuilding, the mature theme explorations) simply because we haven't had a western kids' show go this hard since TLOK (even if I think Korra stumbles in a lot of ways) and arguably ATLA in its explorations of war and morality, two things that TDP is obsessed with, as well as a sometimes overwhelming discussion of Grief.

However, to be frank, while many teen and adult fans of kids cartoons say that they want darker themes and storylines, what that usually means, I think, is more akin to something like TOH or She Ra, in which you know 1) your favourite characters will always typically survive with maybe one or two minor parental or villainous exceptions, and 2) one or two characters in an otherwise fairly cookie cutter 'good guy' cast will have a redemption arc or be quirky morally dubious in a way that's played for comedy, and there will be a handful of significantly "Oh Shit!" darker or creepier moments. The characters are mostly teenagers, the heavier plot stuff is regulated to a few standout episodes, with most of the other conflicts being things like figuring out how to make friends or struggling with not fitting in or deciding what you want to do with your life. And those are all good explorations, and it's not as though TDP doesn't touch on some of that (Callum is finding his place in the world, Rayla is 'changing careers', Ez struggles with his new responsibilities and not fitting in, Soren - like Hunter - leaves an emotionally abusive relationship with a parental figure).

But I think it's TDP's attachment of all of those things to morality that makes the emotional stakes higher and less comforting and/or comfortable for people who are, likely, going to fiction for escapism rather than exploration. (To be clear: one is not better than the other, I just know what my personal preferences are.) Rayla's 'career/schooling' change is whether she's going to kill people for a living; Callum deciding what sort of mage he's going to be is rooted in deciding how much he's willing to either slowly destroy himself or take on the impossible, both with some dire consequences; Ezran not fitting is is also tied to having mysterious, unknown magical powers the story still hasn't fully explained the root cause of. Yes, the three main kids are typically good people who want to do the right thing, but that's much easier said than done (Ezran burning the monster soldiers, Callum's ruthlessness, Rayla's self sacrificial tendencies manifesting in destructive ways). TDP is never going to have an episode of "I lied to my friends because I wanted them to think I was cool or not a nerd" or "I'm scared of them preferring someone else over me" or "I need to learn how to be a good friend" (hi TOH with like 5 episodes and She Ra).

Like Rayla lies to the boys, but that's because she isn't sure how to tell them that her father murdered theirs and made them orphans, and she's worried it will accordingly be a wedge between them.

Like, there's hardly any episodes of TDP that don't talk about grief or death or both in some manner. The show consistently explores unreliable narrators across all sides of its ethical spectrum(s). S4 has a subplot regarding religious traditions and the ethics of the death penalty. Most of Arc 1 and now into Arc 2 sees good people with good intentions or understandable motivations doing pretty terrible things to either themselves, the people around them, or both. The death and body horror imagery aren't one offs, but consistent series defining elements that are always treated seriously. Villains aren't people who don't love their families (or anyone) and good guys aren't good because they're good friends to one another. It's more complicated than that, from the body swap and discussions of the soul in S1, to the cycle of violence laid out explicitly in S2, to explorations of punishment and exile in S3.

Overall, I'm fine with the success and appreciation that TDP gets; some of my students watch it, actually, which makes it useful in some of our lesson discussions. Because TDP is a good show for kids, yes, but it certainly never pulls its punches in forcing all of its ensemble cast through the wringer.

TLDR; due to age demographics and tonal differences, particularly in character conflicts, themes, and amount of Lore, I'm not surprised at all that TDP is pretty underrated on tumblr. Again, doesn't mean these elements of 'maturity' make it Better (although I do think it's written more cohesively than She Ra and more consistently than TOH in its set up and payoff), I just know where my (and many other's) preferences lay accordingly, and am not surprised at the split.

[isatswap]

(super in stars and time spoilers)

Redemption

TTOS version of the final King fight from ISAT

<BATTLE START!>

<the sound of being unfrozen>

(AH)

(you're not slowed down anymore)

(you can move again)

(the lady and)

(everyone?)

Isabeau: Okay! I woke Loop up!!!

Mirabelle: Awesome! Nice job, Isabeau!

Odile: Loop, are you okay?!

Bonnie: Eyes on the enemy, Dile! Loop should be alright now!

Isabeau: You don't need to fight anymore, Loop! We are here!!!

Loop: (what) "how are you here?"

(they came)

(for you?)

Mirabelle: Uh, we walked, silly.

Odile: ...We had a talk after.... yesterday. And then you went missing! So we decided to go find you.

Bonnie: We couldn't find you anywhere! No one in Dormont saw you leave either! So-- a strange person helped us!!! And--

Isabeau: Argh, it doesn't crabbing matter anymore! Isabeau: I'm still so mad at you, Loop!!! Isabeau: I still can't believe you said all those terrible things to us yesterday!!! And that you went to battle the Scary Lady all on your own!! Isabeau: But we will talk about it later!! isabeau: Right now I want to channel this anger into smashing her into pieces for freezing our crabbing country in time!!

Odile: Yeah, what Isabeau said. Get ready to get your crabbing butt kicked, Lady!

Bonnie: We will explain later, Loop. Right now you need to rest, while we defeat her!

(rest)

(don't say that word)

Scary Lady: ...... Scary Lady: Hahahahah..... so you had companions after all, Bright One.... Scary Lady: How lucky. Scary Lady: Quite a shame they couldn't be here to help you earlier. Scary Lady: I was right. You are but a fool for facing me by yourself.

(it was)

(you're a bad friend)

Mirabelle: Gal, shut up. Mirabelle: They might have made a mistake, but they are not foolish.

Bonnie: And they must be quite brave to venture here all by themselves to face you, you know.

(it's not bravery)

(you left them all behind)

(and bonnie said they all should leave you as well)

(but.... if they are here.... then....)

Bonnie: Hah. Bonnie: Even if Loop was foolish, the only thing we can do is follow and help them to the very end, because they are fighting you.

Odile: I will fight! Loop, I can finally protect you myself! Odile: And shut the CRAB up, Lady!! No one can insult Loop but me!

Scary Lady: Ha.....

(euphrasie looks at you)

(you are too scared to look away)

(no no no not again please)

Scary Lady: .......

(she starts..... crying?)

Scary Lady: No, no, no, why! Scary Lady: I can't do it again! Scary Lady: I can't inflict this much pain on someone from my own country! Scary Lady: Hahaha....but you can't spare me either.... Scary Lady: ......Isabeau....the Blessed One....

Isabeau: ....? W-what?

Scary Lady: You can't defeat me like this. Scary Lady: The Universe abides my will. Scary Lady: Your companion could wound me, but only because their Craft also draws from It.

Isabeau: .... Isabeau: So what?! Do you just expect us to give u--

Scary Lady: But.... Scary Lady: I can help you.

Isabeau: ?!? What--

Scary Lady: Isabeau. Heed my words. Scary Lady: You are strong. Scary Lady: You can reflect this attack.

Isabeau: ....

Scary Lady: If you believe in it enough, it will happen. Scary Lady: Please, trust me this once.

Isabeau: I-I don't--

Scary Lady: You can do it.

Isabeau: B-but--

Scary Lady: No 'but's. You can do it.

Isabeau: A-alright, I can do it!

Mirabelle: ...No idea what is going on right now, but I believe in you, Isa! You can do it!

Bonnie: Yeah!!! You can do it!!!

Odile: Haha, what they said.

(...)

(you don't have the energy to speak)

Scary Lady: Are you ready, Isabeau?

Isabeau: I am!!!

Scary Lady: ARE YOU?!?

Isabeau: YES!!!

<Scary Lady strikes the special attack pose>

Scary Lady: Then you can do it!!! Scary Lady: I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!

(euphrasie)

Mirabelle: Wuh-oh!!!

Bonnie: Isabeau, be careful!!!

(strikes)

<Isabeau strikes the special attack pose>

Isabeau: I don't care if you were trying to trick me or not, but--! Isabeau: WE WILL DEFEAT YOU!!! Isabeau: For the sake of this House, of Vaugarde, of my HOME!!! Isabeau: Change will begin again, free from your curse!! Isabeau: We will live again!! Isabeau: AND I TRULY BELIEVE IN IT!!!

Isabeau: TAKE THIS!!!

Scary Lady: Ah--!!

(a sound like a sword getting deflected)

(like hitting a metal ball with a bat)

(like breaking a mirror)

Scary Lady: Yes.....yes! Scary Lady: My attack.... got deflected....back....to me! Scary Lady: .......... Scary Lady: This attack.... is plenty powerful indeed.... Scary Lady: We will not see eachother again for a long time. Scary Lady: But the Curse will be gone without my support. Scary Lady: And..... I hope.... Scary Lady: You can... le ar n... to for g ive me......

Isabeau: ....

Mirabelle: ....

Bonnie: ....

Odile: ....

Isabeau: Did we..... Do it?

Mirabelle: Yes!! We did it!!

Bonnie: We did it!!!

Mirabelle: Crab yea!!!!

Odile: Haha, crab yeah indeed.

Mirabelle: BUT YOU.

(ah)

Isabeau: How could you say all these horrible things to us, Loop!!!

Odile: Wasn't cool. Not at all.

Mirabelle: Yeah, you were really a crab earlier.

Bonnie: But why did you go off on your own??? Bonnie: Going through the whole House alone... Bonnie: I hate to admit it, but.... she was right, that WAS foolish.

(but)

(they didn't)

(want you here)

(so you had to--)

Mirabelle: And why were you acting so weird? Mirabelle: It's not like you at all to be mean like this...

Odile: You didn't mean it, right?!?

(odile pauses, realising she is shouting)

Odile: ...Were you mad about something? Or something happened before you talked to us? Or you wouldn't-- Wouldn't do and say all that, right?

Isabeau: R-right, Loop?

Bonnie: Yeah, but what was it then, Loop?

Mirabelle: .... Mirabelle: Um... Loopie, hey, are you with us?

Odile: Are you listening, Loop???

Bonnie: Loop? Hey? Anyone there?

(you can't stand up)

(your legs)

Mirabelle: Loopie!!

Bonnie: Loop, are you alright??

Odile: Are you sick?

Isabeau: Let me help you up... huh?

(touch. cold)

Isabeau: Wow, I can feel heat even through your gloves! What's wrong?

Bonnie: ...They are burning up. Why?....

Odile: So I was right, they are sick!

Mirabelle: Loopie went up the whole House all on their own, right? Makes sense they would get a little woozy....

Isabeau: Yeah, we had a lot of trouble, even with Siffrin's help... Can't imagine how it would be if one of us did it alone.

(siffrin?)

( siffrin,)

Bonnie: Ah, right, that weirdo. I feel like you know them, somehow.

Odile: We met them earlier! Odile: We were looking for you so we could talk to you, but you were nowhere to be seen, and no one else in Dormon knew where you went either. Odile: So we went to the Favor Tree, and Mira asked it to help us find you, and then this little person descended from the crown??? Odile: We have never met them before, so it was really weird.

Bonnie: They helped us find you is what matters. I don't think we would make it to you if not for their help.

Mirabelle: They made us do a weird symbol so we could hear them while going up the House...

Odile: I've never heard of that technique before, it was really interesting!

Isabeau: But we started hearing them less and less as we went up... Can't hear them at all actually, now.

(siffrin)

(helped,)

Bonnie: But for you to go through the whole House alone, with no help or food or anything.... Bonnie: We barely saw any Sadnesses, but it was still hard, even for the four of us.

Isabeau: A-and the House was really weird too!

Odile: It was... odd. Your copies appearing and disappearing, rooms repeating and leading to strange places.....

Bonnie: It felt super off. Not very usual for a building. Bonnie: Even considering the Curse and the Scary Lady taking over.

Mirabelle: Felt like the world was ending, you know?

Isabeau: Haha, Mira.... Isabeau: Don't say that, please.

(it wasn't)

(just you?)

(what,)

Mirabelle: The House felt almost unsettling... It's better now, I guess, but then, why....

Bonnie: It doesn't matter, I think. Bonnie: The Head Housemaiden should be up ahead, yes? Maybe he can help Loop out with their... ailment....

Isabeau: Y-yes! We should get Loop to him! He probably knows what to do!

Mirabelle: And maybe he can explain what is happening around us, too. I know he has some extraordinary knowledge sometimes...

Isabeau: I'll go ahead and let him know!!!

Mirabelle: Let's go, Loopie...

<checking euphrasie>

(euphrasie)

Odile: Smaller....

Mirabelle: Smaller....

Bonnie: Sure is!

Odile: She got smaller... Why.

Mirabelle: Well, I think, since she was so powerful, she was filled with Craft, which allowed her to get bigger. Mirabelle: But now that she is.... out of commission... she doesn't control her Craft anymore, so she went back to her usual size.

Odile: Heh, like a balloon?

Bonnie: Like a balloon!

(hahaha)

(ow)

(ow, laughing, hurts,)

Mirabelle, Odile, Bonnie: ...

(...)

(you get a bit closer)

(she is breathing)

(good)

...

[jihyoruri]

the angst would honestly work so well tho. never asked cause everyone had this happy vibe and i was SO scared of getting jumped.

i can imagine yn becoming aware of how close and comfortable she got with hanni, so she'd just start avoiding her without explanation. poor hanni on the other hand would reach out for the girl during the first days, trying her best to justify her actions, only to get to a point when she just can't do that anymore. hanni would be like a few steps away from depression. staying in her dorm room all day, eating the bare minimum, being too scared to open her socials or to go live, only talking with her friends through the locked door, she would genuinely be a mess. like she felt so good when she was with yn, she would melt all her stress & problems away, maybe they were young but if someone were to ask her she could definitely envision yn in her future. during music shows they would look at each other across the crowded rooms, yn looking at hanni like she just saw her worst nightmare and hanni looking at yn like it's their last day on this planet, both ignoring the people that are talking to them. fans would go crazy and constantly ask why hanni doesn't talk about paranoia anymore or put their songs on live, why her and yn don't get spotted anymore, why they haven't commented on each other's post in a long time, why they haven't interacted in so long in general, and hanni would fight back tears and end her livestreams as soon as the chat would get flooded by these types of questions. maybe i'm too much of a drama queen but i can't help it, i think that at some point hanni's sadness would turn into anger and she'd finally find the will to fight back, she'd try ANYTHING to face yn but the latter just kept avoiding her so hanni showed up in paranoia's dorms. before any of the three members could ask how hanni even knew where their dorms were, she'd ask yn a million questions, only to get always the same answers ("i never liked you", "there's someone else", "it meant nothing to me" all the bullshit like this you hear me?). hanni would grow progressively more impatient, AND HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE she'd slap yn SO GODDAMN HARD, to either hurt her fr or smack some sense into her, or maybe even both (hanni herself wasn't sure on why she did that) before storming out of their dorms. yn would stay still for a couple of minutes that surely felt like hours if not DAYS, not because of the pain, but because WHEN DID HANNI BECOME LIKE THIS)?????)???? but on a side note that would actually make her realize how far she went.

also i think that everyone is aware of yn's personality most of the people just thought about a redemption ark or some shit like that idk 🤔😭

honestly I feel like if hanni was ranting to yn about these things she wouldn’t be like “I never liked you” and stuff you said she would be more like “you knew what you were getting into, I don’t do relationship's.”

imma be so fr if hanni was to slap yn it would literally be an instinct for yn to slap her back ngl LIKE SORRY BUT the way yn wouldn’t hesitate and like she would even shock herself like it was just instinct, like living with boys has really changed her survival instinct and she’s swinging on instinct.

like after hanni leaves and everything the only thing running through yn’s mind is no way she just put her hands on me like let’s actually think about who paranoia!yn is she would def be thinking about that slap more than the reason of the slap like the guys would be like “why did you hit her back?!” and she would be like “because she hit me… really hard it was just instinct IM SORRY.”

honestly I don’t rlly get the redemption arc thing when it comes to paranoia!yn because what redemption does she need? she’s not like wow!yn who can be a complete asshole she’s just someone who’s not comfortable with relationships, you can soften her up but you can’t change who she is yk?

[thewickedkat]

100% love your analysis on laudna and her handling of the current situation!!! This is a tangent off of that because this isn’t meant to detract from your really good take on laudna’s current state of mind! But I also have a thought that in that whole altercation a more prevalent part of Delilah was influencing her to the point of even her motives and fears were mingling with Delilah’s so the moment/ the way she snaps at Chetney abt how he had ‘no right to talk about loss to her’ gave me the impression that that was Delilah helming the reigns more so than laudna. Idk I think the lines between them have blurred so much since laudna has been feeding her more and more. I really worry about how she hasn’t even acknowledged that aloud because she really is becoming Delilah. It definitely lends itself to the self sabotage that you talked abt already, but you can really see the flaws laudna already carries being amplified and influenced by Delilah to get her ultimate goal. And as a viewer gotta give it to marisha because her rping as always is so layered and interesting

(I also haven’t really paid attention to how the cr fandom is reacting to the current debacle, but I’m sure it’s rancid lmaoo ‘xD just want to say I really like your take being able to acknowledge the extremely flawed characters without infantilizing them or condemning them to be without any redemption and how this is also a show made for entertainment)

oh, i think Delilah is definitely influencing Laudna more than even Laudna realises, and when she is aware of it, i think that knowledge brings a deep and abiding shame, which only further fuels her self-sabotage. because in all honesty, here is a woman who, in her life, apparently had little: Laudna didn't have money, or lands, or a title; she was a simple farm girl who had a budding propensity for magic. by her own account, she had few friends. by the time the Briarwoods came to Whitestone, she was just ordinary, a little lonely, and then the new lady of the land comes and acknowledges her, seems to see her, and invites her up to the castle. what common person wouldn't be a little starstruck by that?

then the most horrible thing happens to her. she wasn't special, after all, just bore a passing resemblance to someone the Lady hated, and her corpse was strung up for all to see after it was altered. and then she is 'restored' to something that only passes for life, scares townspeople through no fault of her own, and is summarily run out of town and left to subsist in isolation, always on the fringes of civilisation, for the next thirty-odd years.

it's awful. and of course Delilah is going to take full advantage of that, no one knows you like I do, dear, no one understands what it's like to be able to do what you can and be what you are, but I do, I've always seen that within you and I can teach you, I can help you do so much more; all you need to do is let me in.

even if Laudna despised Delilah in the beginning (and from what we know, she absolutely did), after a while, with only her as company, Delilah is going to erode Laudna's resolve like water on a stone. it's grooming, without the gross sex connotations. all Delilah has to do is hammer down on the point that she has known Laudna the longest and still 'chooses' to 'help' her grow in power, remind her that she has seen Laudna at her worst and hasn't forsaken her. that's it, that's the crack she gets her narsty bitch fingers in and pries open. not even Imogen knows Laudna's darknesses and insecurities, not like Delilah, and Imogen will never need Laudna the way Delilah does--she's eminently capable, Imogen is.

Laudna is terrified she will be left alone again, and so she swallows down those parts of herself that seem to cause friction: when she got angry after the party split and the half that went to Uthodurn seemed to have a good time (Letters found FRIDA; Fearne and Chet and Deanna knocked boots; they had a shopping spree), she choked that anger back so as not to upset Imogen. when she tried, later, to talk to Imogen about Delilah, Imogen literally cut her off with a kiss and derailed that conversation. every time a serious discussion potentially crops up between those two, the words I love you are deployed (not just by Imogen, to be fair) almost as a stop sign, to quell any unpleasantness between them.

(not that either of them know what a healthy relationship is like, having grown up alone and isolated, whether emotionally or physically or both. not that either of them know what stable love is like, how good it can be despite spats or arguments.)

so Laudna keeps quiet on a great many things and Delilah isn't one to sleep on an opportunity.

see, i think Laudna knows she isn't special but deeply wants to be, just like any person does. i think she very much wants to belong, to be part of something, and i think she is afraid that if she is 100% wholly open, she will run everyone off--after all, it's happened before, repeatedly. and Delilah just gleefully pours gasoline on that fire, amplifying the self-sabotage and self-destructive tendencies.

but after all of that empathising, after all the tragic backstory and yes, Bad Things happened to you, Laudna, i get it, i think it is completely possible that even if Delilah weren't riding shotgun in her head, Laudna would be just as much of a mess--i just think it would happen much more slowly, with less bang and more whimper. Delilah just turns up the volume on the ugly.

conversely, i feel there's also cognitive dissonance within Laudna in that she doesn't want to admit that she's becoming more Delilah, that she's abrogating her own autonomy and giving slivers of herself up. because she's worked so hard, recently, to be herself, to become herself and feel comfortable in her own skin. because she has friends that worked so hard to bring her back, friends who don't run from her scariness, friends who like her and want to be around her and who understand even just a little about how awful the world can be to the smallfolk who live in it. and if she admits that Delilah is beginning to suffuse her, then all that work and effort and time? means nothing, doesn't it? means Laudna isn't worth it, means that her self is just something to be absorbed and used and ground into dust. so she clings to the idea of I'm fine, I know what I'm doing, this is my choice because the alternative is too awful to think about.

all that being said, all she had to do with Orym was say 'Can we talk about that sword? Cause it gives me the ick.'

[obihiro-division]

Daiki's Thoughts on Ueno Division

Aranai Norikoru

“Former…? She’s looking for redemption? How fortunate that I get to see another wicked soul looking to be saved! I wonder who inspired her to do it. I bet they’re someone kind! And dependable! Someone who can soothe the most wild of hearts! I hope I can be like that someday. Maybe, maybe I can chat with Aranai and find out! I want to help Aranai get better too!”

Shisuta Heisha

“I said it before… Talk to Jack if you wanna talk about religion!”

Kisouna Yuzairu

“A lawyer like Mr. Hitoya? Do you think they know each other? I’ve never heard him talk about her! What’s she like? Is she a good lawyer or a bad lawyer? I hope she’s a good one! I’ve heard from Mr. Hitoya, sometimes lawyers will defend villains. But since it says Ms. Yuzairu is a prosecutor, that means she punishes villains, right? Right?!”

Sakurai Clan

“If I had to think about it… Maybe Ms. Yuzairu put Aranai in her place and showed her there’s a chance to change! At least that’s my theory. Only way to find out is to cross paths! P-Preferably casually. I dunno if I wanna fight them… Not that I’m scared! I just want to start off on the right foot with them. Wouldn’t want to fumble a chance to get new friends- I mean allies!”