#and i always mean that towards the person themselves

[tame-the-lion-writes]

dosg shifter 141 im in love queen <3, i cant wait to hear your thoughts on like if any of the guys are actually falling for reader??? like obviously if they were, you cant tell cause it just looks like your dog is showing it's usual affection towards ya yk....rightttt?

(This is probably a little more of a serious drabble than you expected wHOOps-- but 'twas needed anyhow)

For the first few days/weeks/however long, it’s very much a denial phase for the boys. They see reader as pack, but they can’t exactly explain why or how. To them, at the very least, you're a grounding technique that keeps their shifting from going haywire, or an easy cover that keeps them from being discovered. At most, those are both excuses for them sticking around--you're truly, undoubtedly, a loving protector, provider, and friend. And that's new. That's precious. Because they're so used to being the ones to protect and provide.

Being a soldier means a lot of conditioning, whether through training or trauma. And for them, it means believing in a cause while keeping yourself distant from that cause--because softness and close quarters make for poor decision-making, and there's no way to protect civilians while having the heart of one.

But this--whatever this is--is mutual.

They're forced to slow down, and for once, there's no running into the field, ready to die. There's no shower of bullets or swipe of the knife. They're no longer carrying assault rifles and camouflage; they're walking with you to the park, getting groceries, watching you sing to yourself in the kitchen. No--you're the one protecting them, albeit in less bloody ways. Often so kind and meek, yelling at a grumpy Karen who insults your dogs, or bandaging up cuts and scrapes whenever they get into trouble. Teary-eyed yet scolding. Out of true, genuine worry--and not the stress of a commander who's scared of losing his pawns.

Once that realization hits--that instead of a means to an end, you're truly and wholly a person to them, and that they mean the world to you--that you care so deeply and warmly and completely--it's impossible not to fall. Soon enough, they're nuzzling just a little closer into your embrace when night falls. They're paying extra attention to your likes and dislikes, and stopping themselves short of nosing into your favorite snacks. They're making the first move to hop onto the couch for movie night, instead of you calling beforehand.

In other words, at some point, it was no longer a transaction. It was no longer "I get" and "you receive." It was no longer them doing the bare minimum to guard you and keep you alive--but more. Because now, the reason your scent calls out to them is equally clear: you're not just safety.

You're home.

And now that they've found a home, they'll always come back to you, no matter what.

[unabashegirl]

The Cover — sneak peak

Y/N and Harry, lifelong best friends, pretend to be a couple for a family wedding weekend in Edinburgh. As they navigate the event, old feelings resurface, and what starts as an act turns into something real, leading them to confront their true emotions for one another.

Author's note: hello, the cover has already been posted on Patreon, but I wanted to give you a sneak peak to it. Just in case you want to give it a read on my Patreon. It's a four part story. The final part will get posted tonight.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots and much more :)

masterlist

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Harry sat next to Y/N, his body half-turned toward her as he read a book, legs tucked beneath him like a cat seeking comfort. There was a distinct softness about him when he was in his own space, away from the flashing cameras and curious eyes of the public. His hair, dark and messy, tumbled over his forehead, catching in the dim light, giving him a boyish charm that contrasted sharply with his usual confident and polished public persona.

He wore a simple white t-shirt, the fabric clinging loosely to his lean frame. His broad shoulders spoke of strength, but his posture, slightly hunched as he leaned into his book, gave off an air of vulnerability. His long fingers traced the edges of the pages absentmindedly, and now and then, his green eyes flicked up from the book, studying Y/N with a kind of quiet amusement, like he was aware of the unspoken understanding that lay between them.

Harry had always been attentive, almost in a way that felt second nature, as though he knew more about her moods than she did. There was something undeniably magnetic about him—his laugh was a little softer here, his voice a touch lower. His fame could never overshadow the gentle heart he showed her when they were alone.

Y/N’s eyes hovered over the same paragraph for what felt like the hundredth time. The words blurred together, the meaning lost as her mind wandered to the man sitting beside her. She was supposed to be reading a novel on leadership—something meant to inspire her as she navigated her demanding corporate job—but her thoughts kept drifting back to him. It was ironic, really. The book talked about control and decisiveness, yet here she was, lost in the one thing she couldn’t control: her feelings for Harry.

She had always found him attractive. No—more than attractive. Beautiful in the kind of way that felt effortless. His messy hair, the way his lips quirked into a half-smile, those green eyes that seemed to see straight through her… It all added up to someone she could never quite believe was real. He’d always been larger than life to her, even before the fame. Back when they were younger, when they were just two young adults with dreams and no idea where life would take them.

But then, his life had soared into stardom, and hers had stayed grounded in the corporate world. He became Harry Styles—the Harry Styles—and she remained his best friend, hidden away from the glamour of his world. She had watched as women swooned over him, throwing themselves at his feet, and she had silently swallowed her feelings. She knew she could never compete. He was out of her league, in every possible way.

And yet, sitting here next to him, as close as they were, it was impossible not to be reminded of just how deep her feelings for him ran. His presence had always had this effect on her, an electric undercurrent that made her skin tingle and her heart pound just a little harder. She stole a glance at him over the top of her book. He was engrossed in whatever he was reading, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in her mind.

That’s what made it all so painful—he would never see her that way. She was just Y/N, his best mate, his confidant. The one person who was always there, but never the one he looked at with desire. She felt a knot tighten in her chest as she allowed herself, for just a moment, to imagine what it would be like if things were different. If she were someone else. If he saw her the way she saw him.

As if sensing her gaze, Harry suddenly looked up, catching her in the act. His lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, and he set his book down on the coffee table.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, his voice low, breaking the silence between them. His eyes locked onto hers, and the way he studied her made her feel exposed, as though he could read her thoughts without her saying a word. “You’ve been staring at that same page for ages.”

Y/N quickly dropped her gaze, closing the book to avoid his probing eyes. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, though the heat rising to her cheeks gave her away.

He tilted his head, not buying it for a second. “Come on,” he coaxed, a teasing edge to his voice. “Spill it. I know you. You’ve got that look.”

She shifted uncomfortably, trying to laugh it off. “What look?”

“The one where you’re overthinking everything,” he said, leaning back against the couch, still watching her closely. His gaze softened. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as Harry’s green eyes bore into hers, his expression filled with gentle concern. She had always struggled to lie to him. Whenever he looked at her like that, like he truly cared, she felt like he could see right through her. The panic rose quickly, threatening to bubble over, and she knew she had to say something—anything—to steer the conversation away from the thoughts that were tangled up in her mind.

She blurted out the first thing that came to her. “My cousin’s getting married.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “Which cousin?”

Y/N let out a long sigh, glad for the distraction, though the topic she’d chosen wasn’t much better. “The worst one. Out of the three, I mean. You know, the one who’s always got something to say about everything. Perfect life, perfect fiancé, perfect job… perfect everything.”

Harry’s expression softened into one of amused sympathy. He knew exactly the kind of family pressure Y/N was talking about. He stretched out his legs, making himself more comfortable, as if settling in for a story. “Ah, her. That sounds like fun,” he teased, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Y/N rolled her eyes, tucking her legs beneath her as she faced him. “It’s not just her. It’s the whole family. They’re all so excited, and for some reason, they’re all hell-bent on me bringing a date.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t even have a boyfriend, but everyone keeps asking if I’m bringing someone. They’re already assuming I’m going to show up with a ‘plus one,’ and I just… I don’t want to deal with the humiliation of telling them I’m still single. Again.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly as he listened, a small frown tugging at his lips. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her thoughtfully. “Y/N, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. If you don’t want to bring someone, then don’t. Your family’s expectations shouldn’t dictate your happiness.”

Y/N smiled weakly, appreciating the sentiment, but her heart was still heavy with the weight of the situation. “I know, but it’s just… hard. It’s like they see me as incomplete because I don’t have someone.” She let out a bitter laugh. “They don’t understand that I’m happy with my life. But at a wedding, it’s like a flashing neon sign that I’m alone.”

Y/N smiled weakly, appreciating the sentiment, but her heart was still heavy with the weight of the situation. “I know, but it’s just… hard. It’s like they see me as incomplete because I don’t have someone.” She let out a bitter laugh. “They don’t understand that I’m happy with my life. But at a wedding, it’s like a flashing neon sign that I’m alone.”

The room fell silent for a moment as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze softening even further. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then paused, seemingly deep in thought.

Y/N bit her lip, realizing she was rambling, but it was easier to talk about this than the real issue she was trying to avoid. And with Harry sitting so close, his concern for her so palpable, it made her feel even more off-balance. Every time he cared, every time he listened so intently, it reminded her of how much she longed for something more than just friendship.

But that wasn’t an option. Not with him. So, she buried it all under the wedding invitation and the pressures from her family, hoping it would be enough to keep him from asking more.

Harry studied her for a long moment, eyes searching her face like he could sense there was something more she wasn’t saying. He tilted his head slightly, lips pressing together in that way he always did when he was thinking hard.

“Is that really why you’re freaking out?” he asked gently, his voice laced with quiet skepticism.

Y/N felt her stomach twist, the question catching her off guard. She hated how easily he could see through her, but she wasn’t about to crack. Not when it came to her deeper feelings. So, she nodded quickly, clutching onto the family wedding excuse like a lifeline. “Yes, it is. It’s a big issue, Harry. Every time I visit my family, it just… it tears me down a little more. They make me feel like I’m somehow falling behind because I don’t have someone. It’s exhausting.”

He sighed softly, his eyes softening with sympathy, though there was still a trace of doubt in his gaze. Without saying anything more, he leaned back against the couch and picked up his book again, his fingers absently running along the spine.

For a few minutes, silence fell between them, the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of turning pages the only sounds filling the room. Y/N watched him out of the corner of her eye, heart still racing from the close call. She didn’t know what she’d do if he pushed further—if he managed to pry open the lid she’d been keeping on her feelings. She shifted in her seat, trying to focus on her book, but the words refused to make sense.

Then, just as she was beginning to lose herself in her own anxious thoughts, Harry broke the silence.

“I’ve got an easy solution,” he said suddenly, his voice calm and casual, like he hadn’t just spent several minutes in contemplative silence. He didn’t even look up from his book. “I’ll go with you.”

Y/N blinked, his words not quite registering at first. “What?”

He glanced over at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll be your date. To the wedding,” he clarified, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Problem solved.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to catch up. “You… you’re serious?” She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Harry Styles, her best friend—and secret crush—offering to be her date to her cousin’s wedding?

“Of course,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. “If it’ll make things easier for you, I’m in. I’ll go, smile for the family, and be the perfect distraction. You won’t have to deal with any awkward questions about being single.”

Y/N stared at him, stunned. He made it sound so simple, like it was no trouble at all. But for her, it was anything but simple. Having him at her side, pretending to be her date, while she tried to keep her feelings under control… It sounded like both a dream and a nightmare all at once.

She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted, closing his book and turning his full attention to her now. His gaze was steady, sincere. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. If this is stressing you out, let me help. I’d be happy to go with you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of him being there, by her side, at a time when she felt most vulnerable. But at the same time, the reality of pretending—of standing next to him, feeling things she shouldn’t, knowing it was all just for show—made her feel dizzy.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost unsure...

[save-the-villainous-cat]

mother feed us we are hungry in horny jail

"I didn't expect you to show up," the hero said. They worried their bottom lip between their teeth.

"How could I not?"

"You have never been a fan of goodbyes. You usually just disappear whenever you want."

"This is different," the villain said. They took a step towards the hero and touched their collarbone immediately. It had become a habit, a simple motion that calmed both their anxiety. The hero knew about that, about the endless worries and the bottomless fears. It was everlasting, it was always hovering.

It came with the job, they supposed. But the villain had it, too. And the hero's colleagues had it and the hero's boss had it. Like a sickness with no cure.

So, in a way, a simple touch could be like medicine.

"I'm scared," the hero admitted.

"Why?" The villain pressed a soft kiss to the hero's shoulder and the hero allowed themselves to imagine this was an evening like any other. Just for a second, though.

"I can't lose you and I...I just can't let go. I can't. I don't want to."

It had started half a year ago. The villain had been injured and the hero, although absolutely terrified, had saved them from certain death. Ever since, the villain had been like a protective shadow that followed them.

And then one night, they had kissed for the first time when the villain had saved the hero.

What had happened after that was quite clear: two people who were not supposed to be with each other couldn't keep their hands off each other and started regularly without anyone else knowing.

And now, the villain had to leave for three months.

"You don't have to let go," the villain said. Their voice was - as always - calm and soft. Their hand travelled down the hero's side until it reached their hip and the hero couldn't fight the oncoming blush. "I promise you won't have to."

"But what if you come back and you don't like me anymore? What if you find someone else?" the hero asked. Those questions had boiled inside of them for quite a while but up until now, they had never dared to whisper them.

Because, after all, this relationship wasn't official. It wasn't a thing. It was behind the backs of bosses, friends, family even. Behind closed doors. They didn't go out together, they didn't pick up each other from work. They didn't meet the other's family. They didn't go on vacation together, they weren't friends with each other's friends.

It wasn't what the hero had expected. But the hero had also not expected the villain to develop such a soft spot for them.

And if someone else could give the villain exactly that: a relationship without all the secrecy for outsiders, then maybe it was better for the hero to let go now.

"No one compares to you, my love," the villain said. Their lips met the hero's and it was tender enough for the hero to feel protected from even anxiety. "And I am selfish. I want a good person to be my lover. You are, undoubtedly, the best human being I will ever encounter in my life. I'd be stupid to throw that away for a quickie."

"You mean that?" The villain started to kiss the hero's throat. At first, it was quite innocent but the hero's heartbeat started racing when they realised the villain was taking their sweet time and turned kisses into suction. Every hickey they left behind, they kissed softly.

"You want me to prove it," the villain murmured against the hero's throat, "don't you?"

The villain took the overwhelmed hero's hand and pressed their nemesis against the desk of the hero's office.

"I...I..."

"Yes?" The villain's hips were against theirs in seconds and the hero (stupidly) couldn't find any words. To have the villain's undivided attention on them, their entire focus, could be overpowering but whenever the hero felt anxiety crawl up their calf, the villain's fingers crawling down their thigh relaxed them.

"Please don't tease me," the hero begged. They grabbed the villain's forearm and squeezed weakly. Partly as a warning, partly as a plea. They took in deep breaths. The villain desired them like no one had before.

It was nearly ridiculous how much the villain needed touch. Sometimes, it seemed like they needed physical contact to function. In the mornings, the hero had to climb on top every time, touching the villain's chest and throat to get them to come out of bed.

"Don't worry, darling." The villain found the zipper on the hero's back and pulled down slowly while their eyes jumped from the hero's eyes to their lips. Their flat hand slipped under the superhero suit, touching tired muscles and scarred skin. The hero had been on guard duty the last few hours, so naturally, they were a little tired. "I will tease you a little. Only a little."

Their hand traveled down the hero's bare back. Their fingers stopped when they reached the hero's underwear. And the hero had to gasp for air. Too surprised to take over any type of control, they put themselves into the villain's hands and the villain played with the fabric of the hero's underwear between their fingers.

"You're evil."

"So I've been told." The villain smiled their brilliant smile and tipped their head to the side. "I love you."

The hero's heart stopped. The villain had never said that before.

They wanted to say it back, but the villain's hand was on the best way to slip under the hero's underwear and do some unholy things. So, the hero only sighed happily, despite the dooming last night together, despite the fear and the anxiety. In three months, a lot could happen.

But the villain was here.

"Those thoughts of yours are so silly." The villain pressed another kiss to the hero's lips, more demanding this time. With their thumb slipping into the hero's mouth, they asked for access and the hero nearly melted when they felt the villain's tongue in their mouth.

They could barely kiss back. Could barely think.

"You're mine, don't you know?" the villain whispered and a shiver ran down the hero's spine. The villain was serious. Very serious. "And now, let me prove it to you."

[cxndiedvi0lets]

To the American Horror Story Community. Please Read this.

Hello, you may know me as Violet or CxndiedVi0lets, but I think I'm gonna have to drop the Violet Harmon stuff.

I don't want to associate to her any longer with my Violet content. I want to address that I'm not trying to imitate the events of my life, and it's better if you guys could stop it.

The community has always been toxic that I'm aware of because of the idolisation.

Violet has only been my comfort character, and I want to establish that because I find these rumours rubbish. I chose Violet because she was the closest character that I've felt comfort in due to the correlation of the events in my life with her and I feel a sense of connection towards her that felt empowering for atleast awhile but, since life has took a toll on me, I begin to feel triggered by the concept and accusations of my correlation to the fictional character being a 'copy'. I will admit to establishing imitations for my comfort towards her, but I no longer want to correlate to her because it triggers me, especially the ongoing competition, and it makes me feel like people are assuming my life events to a similar fictional character are being taken as a joke or unserious and has become completely problematic because I've been viewed more as a "copycat" or "wannabe" rather than a person who just feels a direct connection to a fictional character.

With that said, I'd like people to remind them that these "copy cats, " "wannabes," or "imitations" may just find comfort in the character and not wanting to establish themselves AS the actual character and that you should be mindful with the things you say to others before creating that assumption.

Some people may be just expressing themselves and finding the imitation of finding a comfort character that could express for them.

I will admit, I haven't been the saint in the past either and have gone through childish conflicts, and no one does want to admit it. We all want to be Violet Harmon as some point to be empowered and viewed for being brave despite the challenges they face that may seem scary and shows an aspect of Violet, that it is okay to feel weak sometimes and that other peoples views shouldn't bother you because no matter what information people hold on you or your expression and actions are not yourself.

People have layers and flaws, and that's alright. What isn't alright is reacting to extremes. It's okay to be afraid or frustrated with events and it is normal to talk behind people but that doesn't make it right.

It's disappointing to see how this community had become a competition rather than people just connecting to each other and creating relationships of deeper expressions with unspoken words.

Sometimes 'imitations' can become extreme and don't make it right, but always be mindful that this could be a sense of expression, and it doesn't give anyone the right to comment on others and reflect them as if they are trying to be the character themselves but rather finding the character as an alter-ego of empowerment or a reflection of themself.

As for my situation, the reason I no longer want to associate with her is the events I've had associated with this community, and I'll admit. It took me some time and reflection that these are harmful and painful even if I seem strongheaded or ignorant towards the previous asks I've received. It made me feel as if no one was taking me seriously and rather displaying myself as a competitor towards an in real life imitation of a character, and it's extremely painful and just washes me to seeing the character in darker light or matter. You don't know me, and my actions do not reflect me as a person, but one thing I can assure you is. I am a person who means no harm and just wanting to express myself and had been built over paranoia from cyberbullying, and although people have told me to ignore it. It doesn't change the fact that it has and took a toll for me.

I've seen people on this community that I've cared about that has faced this challenge as well and I'm asking you all to be kind.

If you see something you don't like, talk to them or talk to a friend for advice or even so ignore it.

I have seen and heard things that have completely shattered me and my trust but, I continue to interact because im a hopeful person and I know people can change and will change but, It doesn't change the fact that the actions they have committed will be erased in my memory that may make me cautious and wary. I want to express myself as a caring individual and will set arays and boundaries if needed even if I do act to my extremes due to being mentally challenges.

As for people who think they're being copied, isn't it better to maybe talk to them and get to know them or even be closer to them?

You never know, as for @irl-violetharmon and as for @ciggiestash , I want to publicly apologise for our conflicts before even if it has passed. I want to commend her for her kindness, and as for the girls who think they're imitating others, try to push that thought away.

Because some girls just take inspiration from others, and it should be flattering to you that you have become a display as someone to look up to or idolise. That isn't something that happens to everyones lifetime.

Just because my association to Violet has ended doesn't mean I won't continuously try to express myself to the comfort of this fandom, and I have found friends and even perhaps a family. Admist the toxicity, I dislike social media for this, but besides that. I've created a foundation of friends who have helped me and freely express myself without judgement. Thank you, @jazz-berry @yandereunsolved @heartz4peter @0rfielvamp @mooniehoneyrey @fear-is-truth @hauntedrose555 and many others that I haven't tagged.

Please be a better community and better people. You have all been a part of my journey and my life despite all of it being online.

[jerseyhobby]

(I apologize in advance for the possibility of inaccurate translation! I'm not English. :D)

Tintin. Nasty disposition, good intentions, cruel methods.

Tintin is a crime boss, but he likes to participate in every noisy showdowns personally, this is his passion, his excitement and his curse. Unlike the classic version, characterized by naivety and friendliness, he cannot trust anyone completely except his dog (and Haddock in the near future), because no one will ever do anything better than himself.

He is an excellent and incomparable tactician, he charms (and knocks out) the teeth of anyone, and does not disdain to achieve his goals through blackmail and cruelty. He does not respect the feds and always laughs at the law and order system, once again proving to the world that it does not work in any country.

Archibald Haddock. Deft hands, indestructible pride, devoted heart.

Haddock is still a captain and a drunkard, but not to the point of total fever, with his head on his shoulders, otherwise he would not be such a skillful cheater and swindler.

He is much more collected and balanced than the classic Haddock, he does not fly into rage when he fails and looks more like someone who has just become disillusioned with life. in the future, Tintin will give him the opportunity to open his own casino.

only rips off those who have money and who do not have the strong-willed character to say “stop” in time. he is still loyal and incapable of true meanness towards those who do not deserve it.

They are not complete bastards without a drop of principles and morals. They just couldn’t let go of their painful past in time to become a better version of themselves, which is why they are forced to suffer the rest of their lives in blind attempts to find their place in this world.

*** (The opposite universe is not just a reversal of something “good” to “bad”. I will talk about this more, but for now I will just clarify that the character will not necessarily change completely, but only something that would certainly change his role in the plot or in it itself.)

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On

Word count: 9,332. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter

Summary: the battle and the consequences

Series Summary

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On

Alastor was a master of hiding his true feelings and intentions. Since his return, he had often relied on that skillset to manipulate his way through the workings of the hotel, to twist and turn his guidance of Charlie where he needed, and to charm others into trusting that his presence there would be of their benefit. It wasn’t necessarily untrue though it also wasn’t explicitly honest of him to allow them all to believe what they did of him.

However, on the morning of the extermination, there was no need to pretend away any of his feelings. His glee, his absolute eagerness to see those angels descend upon the hotel, allowed him to express himself in an open and true way that he usually had to reserve for his private moments alone with Mina.

His wife was also an open book, though she was more anxious than he was. She gripped onto the ledge in front of her, watching as her friends battled with the few angels that had made their way to the hotel before Alastor’s shield had been raised.

Mina was the very image of beauty that morning. It was rare to see her in anything but her usual attire and he had to admit, he rather liked her in pants. The tight black trousers and long sleeved orange shirt hugged her figure and gave her a grace and agility her preferred dress could never achieve. Her hair was pulled up into a bun with side braids that laced just beneath her ears. After seeing her show off her improved fighting style with her spar against Vaggie the day before, Alastor kept looking over at her with a rekindled appreciation for her hidden strengths. Mina was always such a petite, unassuming person that it was easy to forget, even for himself, how positively deadly she could be.

So far, her worry over their safety appeared to be needless. The small army from cannibal town seemed to be holding their own, the hotel residents were doing quite well for themselves, and Mina’s friends from The Pit were demolishing any angel that came near them. It was easy, effortless work, with sheer numbers and preparations on their side, where the angels were separated from the rest of their army and had vastly underestimated what they were up against.

Alastor still wasn’t worried when his shields fell.

It was of little consequence if he had to face Adam, in fact, a part of him had been looking forward to the thrilling challenge of it.

Mina had turned to him as soon as it happened, reluctant to follow through with what she had agreed to.

“Go,” Alastor told her, gesturing towards the next wave of angels that were nearly on the people down below. “They need you far more than I do.”

“If you die, I’ll never forgive you,” she said, giving him one last hard look, before stepping through a portal and leaving him alone on the roof of the hotel.

For the first time, he was truly grateful for their seven years apart. He was sure if she hadn’t experienced the pain of it, hadn’t had to dig through the remains of her heart and find the strength to face what he had put her through, she wouldn’t have been able to follow through with leaving him to face Adam alone.

And even afterward, when everything had gone terribly wrong, he still didn’t regret his decision to make her leave his side. He had just barely survived the blow from that terrible weapon of Adam’s and he was certain that Mina wouldn’t have been able to do the same. And if she died, every last shred of goodness still left inside of him would die with her.

No, it simply wouldn’t be allowed to come to that. She was far safer and more useful to his cause down below, keeping Charlie safe and fighting exterminators of a less impressive caliber than the one he was now staring down.

____

Mina stepped out of her portal and into chaos.

She had a moment to look back up towards the hotel and catch a glimpse of Adam in his white and golden robes flying lower, clearly headed towards Alastor, before an exterminator was on her. Just in time, she lifted her spear and blocked the attack, throwing the angel off balance and smashing the blunt end of her spear into the other woman’s mask, knocking her to the ground and impaling her through the chest hard enough that Mina had to put her weight into yanking the spear out, its tip having lodged itself into the concrete beneath the angel’s back.

Her head tilted to the side as she considered her fallen enemy. The woman’s mask was shattered, the insulting demonic visage sputtering as the imagery failed, though her true face was still hidden from Mina. After a couple gurgled breaths, the angel went limp. Mina bent down and grabbed her spear, happy to now be duel wielding them, and kicked the dead angel in the head as she stepped away from her. She’d always hated those fucking masks.

Vaggie was glued to Charlie’s side so Mina kept nearer to her comrades from The Pit, though she kept one eye on the couple in case something were to happen to Vaggie and Charlie needed the added protection. She had promised Alastor she would keep her safe and though Charlie was more powerful than anyone else there that day, Mina wasn’t confident in the princess’s ability to understand and wield that power just yet.

She watched as Astra used her chameleon powers to camouflage herself in the darkest recesses of the battle ground before striking out with simple yet devastating strikes of her spear. Fae and Lilah were the very images of grace, their hyper feminine forms making them look more like they were doing a ballet rather than fighting to the death, if it weren’t for the splatters of gold blood on their features. Alina was in her full demonic visage, a terrifying giant bat, her large leather wings allowing her an ariel advantage. The angels were not used to having victims that fought back and they were extra poor at defense when airborne. Any of them that tried to attack the hotel residents from above was met with Alina’s perfect combinations of angelic spear and the wide gaping maw of her hungry mouth. Kaden and Silva were mostly fighting amongst the cannibals, their own fighting style less refined than that of the others but more brutal, and their high-pitched cackles echoed through the courtyard, even over the din of the battle around them.

Mina wasn’t keeping track of how many angels she had taken down. She had joked with Angel the night before that they should make a competition of it, like Legolas and Gimli, but he hadn’t gotten the reference. Her spear sank into the gut of an oncoming exterminator and it didn’t exit out her back so Mina twisted the spear and pulled it sideways and out, leaving a gaping hole in the angel’s torso.

That had to have been at least a dozen.

Something whizzed past her ears and half a second later a large explosion came from a few feet behind her. She turned behind her to see Husk with his hand still midair, having just thrown a card and sending her would be attacker into a box of empty crates stacked at the side of the courtyard.

Mina gave Husk a small smile of appreciation before turning on the angel that was now getting up from where she had landed, shoving a crate off herself with a disgusted grunt.

The angelic steel-edged axe Mina had been eyeing the morning before was strapped to her hip and she dropped one spear to reach for it, eyeing it almost lovingly as she tossed it once in her grip before the handle settled into her palm, perfectly balanced, and she pulled her arm back and threw it. Her aim was true and the axe landed with a satisfying crunch in the middle of the angel’s face.

“FUCKING BULLSEYE! FUCK YEAH BITCH!” Cherri’s voice shouted from several feet away before the blonde set a stream of bombs flying over Mina’s head and into the next oncoming surge of angels.

Mina smiled, taking in a long deep, open-mouthed breath, savoring the sweet smell of golden blood all around her.

This was going well.

A moment later, Mina’s confidence was shattered as she saw a great flash of gold lightning from the corner of her eye and turned to see Vaggie and Charlie thrown to the ground.

“SUCK MY HOLY LIGHT, FUCKERS!”

Adam.

“-but Alastor was supposed to handle him. Oh no, he must be- ”

Charlie’s voice had said out loud what Mina had been thinking. Before she could process anything, she was stepping through a portal and back on the roof of the hotel.

“ALASTOR!” she screamed, running around the rooftop, looking for any signs of him.

She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, and her feline olfactory senses picked up the sharp metallic tang she knew so well. Mina was familiar with the unique smell of Alastor’s blood, had tasted it on her own lips, and delighted in the way his scent strengthened every time she drew it from his body. It was a smell she associated with desire and pleasure, of their most intimate moments together. It was hardly something she was used to associating with danger and dread but that was what the scent was making her feel now.

Mina chased the smell across the rooftop and found a disturbing amount of it splashed onto the floor of the rooftop. She knew from experience that blood spilled from a body always appeared to be far greater in volume than what was true, but from the pattern of it and the deep crimson color, it looked to have been spilled quickly and from an incredibly deep wound.

But there wasn’t a trail of blood leading away and there was no body.

Mina squeezed her eyes shut, holding closed fists to them as she felt the sting of tears and the crushing grip of panic threatening to spill out of her. Her chin quivered and she grimaced but she still forced herself to keep it together for a little while longer.

His shadow could have moved him. Conscious or unconscious, it would have been able to get Alastor to safety and there would have been little Adam could do it to stop it. She knew this and held tightly to the hope that no matter how badly he had been hurt, he would have gotten away.

But it was an angelic weapon that had hurt him. And there was so much blood.

Even if he had gotten to a safe place, he wouldn’t be able to heal from that kind of a wound.

Alastor could still bleed out and die before she ever got to him.

Maybe his shadow would come back after getting Alastor to safety. It would know he needed help and that she would be his best bet of getting it.

But Alastor had told her to stay by Charlie’s side. He had said she needed to keep her away from Adam. Maybe he wouldn’t send his shadow for her after all. She couldn’t imagine Alastor being that selfless of his own accord but if he had been forced to ask that of her because of his deal – she just didn’t know.

She didn’t know what to do.

Now panic’s beastly nature was truly digging its claws into her, making her lungs feel like they were being ripped from her chest and her heart bitten clean in two. She was frightened beyond belief, frozen in place by the fear that Alastor was dying and that she would utterly fail him in every way.

Two angels landed on the roof top just a few feet from her and suddenly the blinding white mask of panic was lifted from her eyes and in its place, the burning red of fury.

Mina screamed as she let her rage and despair burst out of her, her fists consumed in golden fire that she sent in a torrent across the rooftop that completely engulfed the angels and within seconds they were nothing but smoldering blackened bodies lying on the ground.

The flames had caught Adam’s attention and she made eye contact with him the second he turned and looked at her.

“Well la-dee-fucking-dah bitch. Looks like someone’s been making friends with the bitch-ass loser squad you got running the place down here.”

“Where is he?!” she shouted at him and Adam’s smile grew wider.

“Let me guess, Mr. fucking jazz hands? Yeah, I sliced his ass in half. Sucks for you, bitch.”

He flew straight at her, his weapon held high over his head, and she let another scream tear out of her as she sent the biggest wave of fire she had ever seen at him.

The heat felt like it was going to boil her alive, she could feel the power pulling her inside out, like a taught string that started all the way down in her toes and threatened to tear her muscles from her bones and dislocate every joint in her body.

She kept the flames going as long as she could stand, a tornado of golden fire that could have burned an entire crowd of Sinners and leveled buildings.

When Mina could take it no longer, she dropped to her knees, her arms and head falling forward, and she gasped for air, trying to cool down her overheated and feverish body.

Laughter was the first thing she registered and she lifted her gaze back up, blinking in confusion.

Adam was hovering in the sky. His robes had a singular spot of soot on them but he was otherwise completely untouched.

It wasn’t possible.

She had seen what her fire had done to the other angels. Adam may have been the first man but he was still a human soul. The kind of fire she just wielded should have been enough to take out the likes of Lilith. Even Abaddon and Lucifer would have been hurt by it.

The other exterminators may not have come prepared, but Heaven had clearly imbued Adam with powers far stronger than he should have had.

“Awwww, what’s the matter? Not hot enough for ya? I bet I can spice things up!”

He slashed his weapon out in front of him, sending a beam of light her way. Mina got to her feet and just barely dodged it, watching as it hit the edge of the roof and sent a corner of concrete and brick falling to the ground several stories below.

We’re all going to die.

Alastor’s shadow did not seem to be coming back for her, which may mean he was very likely already dead.

There was no way she could fulfill her promise and keep this man away from Charlie.

But she wouldn’t die with his annoying fucking laughter ringing in her ears.

Mina felt her body morph, her hands and feet morphing into gigantic clawed paws, her face elongated into that of a hideous demonic feline predator, and took a running sprint towards the ledge of the roof.

She jumped, her front feet catching the edge, with her back feet landing between them a second later, and she kicked off with all her strength, and reached her long front legs out towards the angel.

A moment later, his laughter finally cut short as her claws and teeth found robes and flesh. Mina dug in with all her inhuman strength, and tasted the mouthwatering sweet flavor of angelic blood. But it was only a little.

In this form she would have been able to bite a Sinner clean in two but she could barely puncture his skin.

”Ow! Owww! Oww you fucking bitch! Let go of me you cunt!”

He was putting in every effort just to keep them from going into a freefall, her massive weight dragging them slowly downwards as his wings struggled to keep him airborne. Luckily for her, in his distraction, his deadly angelic weapon was forgotten as he squirmed and shrieked under her grasp.

She should have brought one of her spears, held between her teeth as she leapt, but she had been consumed with rage and exhausted from her attempt with the fire and not thinking clearly.

Even in this form, Mina was exhausted and losing her grip on Adam. He was tiny compared to her and the only thing holding her up, and she couldn’t dig her claws and teeth in like she had expected to be able to. With every difficult, struggling flap of his wings, she was jostled and slipping lower, leaving pathetic little tears in his robes as she did so.

But at least he wasn’t laughing anymore.

With some unseen strength and momentum, Adam was able to spin midair and remember his weapon, hitting her with the flat side of it and knocking the wind out of her. It didn’t slice her skin or leave any kind of lethal wound, but she still felt her ribs crack under the impossible force of it, and her grip faltered.

As she fell, she heard Charlie’s voice cry out her name. She looked up and saw Sir Pentious’s war machine being blown to bits.

She turned midair, her cat-like sense of direction instinctually kicking in and making her fall feet first. Even in the last couple seconds she had as the ground rushed towards her, she knew she wouldn’t make it through the impact in one piece. When the loan sharks had come for Mimzy, she had made the jump of just a few stories but Adam had them at a height far greater than that of the entire hotel. In all her years in Hell, she had yet to be injured bad enough to die and respawn but she thought she might get the opportunity now.

In the very last second, she saw a movement of black streaking across the ground below. It was Alastor’s shadow. It had come back for her and it was racing towards her now, putting in every bit of speed and power into reaching its form off the ground in order to stop her fall.

It reached her too late.

____

Charlie watched helpless as Mina’s leopard form hit the ground with a thunderous boom of cracking asphalt and shattering bones. She ran to her side as unconscious and near death, her body formed back into that of a petite black-haired woman, her limbs twisted unnaturally and blood pooling out from beneath her head.

She cried out Mina’s name, afraid to touch her, unaware of Vaggie covering for her and holding off more exterminators as she knelt beside her friend.

Charlie then watched as two black hands reached up from the ground and ever so tenderly wrapped themselves around Mina. A pair of glowing green eyes and an equally illuminated smile peered at the princess from behind Mina’s shoulders, and Charlie pulled away, afraid at first but then quickly understanding what was happening. She nodded to Alastor’s shadow, although it clearly wasn’t asking for her permission, and then they were both gone.

____

Alastor had stayed in his shadow realm for as long as he could allow before his shadow had dumped him in front of the ruins of his radio tower and left. He could only assume – hope – that it went to go find Mina.

Losing, especially as devastatingly as he had, had not been in the cards for him. It had been a grave miscalculation, and one he could not afford to make again. He had told Mina he had back up plans to his back up plans and that was true. A last minute escape plan for himself was something he always had in place, he just never expected to have come so close to death to have to use it.

Once inside the safety of the tower, he bent over double, coming to terms with the wound across his torso and the inevitability of what his failure meant. He was bleeding out, shivering from the chill the blood loss was causing, and wrinkling his nose at the stench of death that was surrounding him. And without him present at the battle, Charlie would go straight for Adam – and that meant Lucifer would be free to intervene.

Alastor had barely escaped with his life, but he imagined, with quite a bit of reluctance, that Lucifer would have no problems disposing of Adam. It would make him look weak and vulnerable in comparison and that would just be the start of his problems with Lucifer’s presence.

Uuggghhh

He grimaced as he pulled his hands away from the shredded remains of his jacket, taking in the bloody mess on his palms.

One problem at a time.

If only his shadow would hurry up. He could really use Mina’s help stitching up this mess.

As if on cue, he felt his shadow’s return and turned around to see the crumbled mess that was Mina’s body on the floor as his shadow remained attached to her rather than coming back to join its master.

Despite his dire wound and the dizziness brought on by a lack of blood, Alastor moved quickly, albeit clumsily, over to where Mina lay and fell to his knees in front of her.

She was a mess. Limbs twisted in unnatural angles and her hair matted with blood from a terrible wound at the side of her head. He could hear her breathing; raspy and gurgling, like each intake of air was a struggle against lungs full of blood.

His shadow stretched out beneath her and connected him to her, allowing Alastor to take full stock of her injuries.

Ankles and wrists were completely shattered. Several fractures along each long bone in her limbs. Dislocated hips and shoulders. Broken ribs with punctures lungs. But the worst was her head trauma. One temple was crushed in, causing swelling on her brain. If she were still alive . . . well, she’d be dead already. But since she was already graced by death, she would be fine. She wouldn’t even have to respawn; her body was already healing. It would take time, and she would be unconscious for the next several hours, but she would live.

Alastor felt a rage like nothing he had ever known burn up inside him. Not even when Kassandra had tortured her body and taken over her mind had he felt so insulted. Not even when he had been made to leave her for years did he feel this disgustingly helpless. For someone to encroach upon what was his in such a defiling manner went far beyond what he could tolerate.

And the very worst part about it all was that there wasn’t a God damn fucking thing he could do about it but be patient and watch over her while she healed.

Alastor brushed a lock of black hair that had come loose from her braids away from her face and let his fingers trace down her pale cheek before his hand fell away from her. As he stared down at the one precious thing he allowed himself to keep close to his heart since his mother’s death, he felt a mad sense of determination take over him.

I’m hungry for freedom like never before.

It was so clear to him now that he had made his deal in haste; that there were consequences he couldn’t have ever imagined when he had made it and now Mina was bearing the brunt of his poor decisions.

She wasn’t supposed to have happened.

Love.

It had been the last thing he had thought capable of happening to him and yet here it was, crushing him, the weight of it unbearable, and also the greatest, most wonderful part of his long and suffering existence.

He watched his shadow slink away from him and to his utter astonishment, slip inside of Mina. All at once her body seemed a little more whole, her limbs pulled back just a few more inches towards normalcy. It wasn’t just joined with her – a feat he thought it incapable of doing with anyone but himself – but it was like it was helping hold her together. Not only was the display of its power a shock to him but the fact that it was willing to do that for Mina, without Alastor commanding it to, was the biggest surprise of the day.

Even it understood the importance of her.

Well, that was . . . interesting, to say the least. Alastor wondered what the person who held his chain would have to say about that. Mina was such an integral part of his soul that even his shadow could – no, wanted ­- to be joined with her. Maybe it was part of the deal they made with each other when they were married. Or maybe it really was just the power of love. Who was to say?

When his chest wasn’t nearly ripped in half, he would allow himself a good petty laugh about that.

Take care of her.

He sent the thought towards his dark companion and stepped away to stitch himself up while he waited for her to recover. It wouldn’t do to have Mina heal and wake up to find herself a widow.

____

The first thing she was aware of was singing.

In the dark of her unconscious state, with no body to feel other than a distant dull pain, there was little else but the sound of Alastor’s voice soothing her few remaining senses and keeping her calm.

So hold your breath

And bite your tongue

My love

I will hold you til’ the morning comes

The night is young

And the darkness long

But my love

I will hold you til’ the morning comes

It was her lullaby but made anew by his unique voice and radio static affect. She tried to move towards the sweet sound of it but she remained motionless in the black. His voice was everywhere but drifting away and try as she might to strain her ears, she couldn’t triangulate which direction the singing was coming from.

Alastor.

She sent his name out into the abyss, a desperate cry for him to stay, but his voice abruptly stopped. Silence rang in her ears and the darkness swallowed her up.

_____

Pentragram City was laid out in front of her, it’s skyscrapers and city streets lit up even in the earliest hours of the morning.

The color of the red tinted city scape was exaggerated by the large glass windows she was looking through. It was a different city, and from a different vantage point, than what she was used to seeing and yet still very familiar.

This was Alastor’s radio tower. His real one.

Their home.

“What year is it?”

She heard Alastor shift behind her and turned to find him on his couch, stretched out in nothing but his bathrobe and a pair of black boxers with little red deer skulls and antlers on them. He had a book in his hands and he set it open on his chest as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What a peculiar question, my love. And what are you doing up this early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You seem to be sleeping just fine.”

“I guess I am, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“Come here, ma cher.”

She stepped away from the window and walked over to him, her bare feet almost silent across the smooth floor. She was wearing an old pair of sleepwear she hadn’t seen in years, a button up silk shirt and matching emerald shorts. There was no wedding band on her finger and judging by the state of the city, this was either the late 1970’s or the very early 80’s.

Mina sprawled across Alastor, letting her body settle between his legs and her head on his chest as he wrapped her in his embrace and began stroking her hair.

“I miss this,” she said.

“You still have this.”

“No, it’s not the same. I miss our life. Our home.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she felt his chest rise and fall with a gentle sigh that betrayed his own sadness. “I suppose you’re tired of hearing me say things will work out eventually.”

She said nothing for a moment, just listened to the sound of his heart beating beneath her ears. She was tired of hearing it but she also needed his reassurance more than ever.

“I need to wake up,” she said, and tried to rise.

His arms tightened around her.

“Eventually yes. After all, company in coming. But right now you need to rest.”

“What’s going to happen next?”

“All in due time, my dear. All in due time.”

____

The darkness wasn’t as deep this time. She could make out a reddish haze and see the swirling shadows move around her. But the pain was much closer now, an ache she tried in vain to pull away from but it only made the pain bloom brighter, blinding her against all else, so she stopped trying to move.

Alastor.

She tried to scream his name and felt nothing but a breath of air escape her lips.

Hush now.

Alastor?

A deep, soft chuckle.

Yes and no.

Who are you?

I am more than Alastor. I am less than Alastor. I am him and he is me but we are not one and the same.

You’re his shadow?

Ah yes, that is what you call me. That is accurate enough for now.

I didn’t know you could talk.

I cannot. I am sending you images, feelings, . . . impressions. Your mind is turning them to words.

How?

I believe it is a consequence of being immensely . . . brain damaged. You’re hallucinating. But my presence is very real.

You’re inside of me? Why? How?

Because you need me. And he needs you. So this is where I must be.

I saw you watching us last night. While we were making love. Why were you doing that?

Another laugh.

That is what you wish to speak of while I’m keeping your brain matter from seeping out your skull like a boiling over pot of rice pudding?

It must be the brain damage.

A moment of silence and Mina thought it had left her.

I was curious.

Do you love me?

It was a childish thought and still it escaped her mind, her thoughts unable to be hidden in this in-between state.

She felt a shift in the shadows and got the impression that it was considering her question.

I alone can not feel love. Alastor loves you. I . . . am drawn to you.

Is Alastor going to die?

He is already dead.

You know what I mean!

She tried to move again, felt her face twitch, her eyebrows pinching together for a moment. She was waking up, she was almost there. The pain was unbearable but if she could just get her eyes to open-

A frustrated sigh and a force tightening around her, keeping her still and dulling her pain. It was heavy and immovable but comforting, like an infant being swaddled.

He will be there when you wake. I will be here while you sleep.

____

The sound of ocean waves came first and then the emotions; absolute bliss, happiness and peace beyond what she had ever experienced.

Mina blinked and she was lying naked on a beach, the sky a blend of deep orange at the horizon and midnight blue overhead, with a few star constellations already in view.

This was the pocket dimension Alastor had given her as a wedding gift.

Her smile split her face and she rolled onto her back, enjoying the warmth of the sand beneath her naked body, and began laughing.

She was high as a fucking kite.

Alastor shifted next to her, pressing his face into the side of hers, and kissing her cheek as he joined her in her laughter. He was as naked as she was, his body even softer and warmer than the sand.

“I want to be inside of you,” he whispered in her ears once he stopped laughing.

She remembered this night well.

1994. They had each taken a large dose of molly and laid under the stars all night. It was one of her happiest, most intimate memories of Alastor and they hadn’t even had sex that night. Just laid naked and pressed to each other, talking about how wonderful their lives were and basking in each other’s love.

She giggled some more, running her hand down the expanse of his scarred chest.

“You’re not even hard right now, love,” she teased.

“Not like that,” he said with a chuckle and a role of his eyes.

She knew what would come next, remembered this moment in perfect clarity, and let herself be completely immersed in reliving this wonderful night.

“I want to be as close to you as possible,” he said. “I never want to feel anything but you. I want you to hold me, and touch me, and surround me, and never let me go. Everything else makes me feel so poorly but not you so if I’m inside of you all the time, I’ll always feel good.”

His ineloquent words made perfect sense to her drugged-out mind. As silly as he sounded, and stupid as the dopey smile on his face was, it seemed like the sweetest thing in the world to be told.

“Then hold tight and never let me go,” she had said, rolling back over on her side to face him, curling her smaller body into his.

“I already tried that.”

His voice had lost all its joy. That wasn’t right, she didn’t remember this part.

“Alastor?” she questioned, sitting up so she could look down on him.

He sat up with her and she watched in horror as his chest began to split open, a gaping bleeding wound that looked like it would cleave him in two.

“But fret not, my love,” he said and as the words left him, stitches began to loop through his lips, pulling on his skin and making them bleed as he continued to try and speak to her. “This is not where this ends.”

____

You have a rather dark imagination.

I’ve heard that before.

I told you Alastor will be fine and yet you continue to worry.

Oh sorry, I’ll just turn off my feelings then.

You are being sarcastic.

No shit Sherlock.

Alastor often says the same thing about his feelings but I don’t think it’s with sarcasm.

That sounds like him.

You sound bitter. But it’s how he survived the last seven years.

Good for him.

There is someone else in here with us. Someone who brought you even more pain than he did.

I don’t want to talk about it.

But you’re thinking about her.

Am not.

Have it your way. I’d prefer you to stay asleep anyway.

Kinky.

There was no response except for a deeply annoyed sigh.

____

“Margarette.”

Mina turned from the waves crashing against the rocky cliffside view that had been just a short walk away from her childhood home and was surprised to find her sister standing behind her.

“You should have stayed here,” said the younger woman and Mina took a moment to study her.

They were both spitting images of their mother; hair the color of a wheatfield at sunset, sapphire blue eyes, with small rounded faces and button noses. The only feature they had inherited from their redheaded father was the smattering of freckles across their noses, cheek bones, and shoulders.

“It’s been a long time since I dreamed of you,” Mina said.  

“You ruined your life.”

“I saved my life.”

“You killed everything you ever touched.”

“Because everything that touched me wanted me dead.”

“And now you’re in Hell.”

“And now I can finally live.”

Her sister crossed her arms, a defiant and proud look to her features that Mina wanted to slap away. She never used to look at her that way. Before, her sister had always seen the best in Mina. But then they’d grown up, as only the luckiest children get to do, and her sister had found her own happiness and had no more room in her heart for Mina’s suffering.

“Why do you hate Heaven so much?” her sister asked.

“Because I love Hell.”

“Then you really are beyond saving.”

Mina stormed towards her sister, her fist clenched at her side.

“Hell gave me a life worth living. A real family that understands me and cares for me. Hell gave me love, a man who knows me for what I really am and neither fears me nor feels the need to control me. I got everything I ever wanted and never found in life when I went to Hell and all Heaven sees when they look at us down there is a threat when all we want is to be left alone!”

“Do you have any idea what will happen now? What it is you’ve started?”

Lightning flashed above them, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the ground beneath them.

They both looked up at the sky, full of angry rolling clouds that seemed to be much lower than before. They swirled and twisted, almost as if they were reaching down for them.

“Company is coming,” her sister said, looking back at her.

“I know,” Mina said, her eyes still stuck on the storm.

“They’ll choose Heaven, you do know that right? When the time comes, they’ll choose to go home.”

Mina frowned, confused at what her sister meant, but when she looked away from the clouds and back at her, she was gone.  

____

Was it worth it?

Yes.

How can you say that? Even now. We almost died.

We are already dead.

You left me.

We are here now.

What made it worth it? What was worth bargaining for that made his deal worth it?

Alastor.

I don’t understand.

Alastor was worth it.

You’re making less sense than him!

Would you have Alastor as anything more or less than what he is?

What does that have to do with his deal?

No response.

No, she finally relented.

Then you already know it was worth it.

What is going to happen now?

What has to be done.

____

Mina opened her eyes.

She blinked slowly, taking in the blurry images around her, managing to turn her head side to side despite the awful stiffness of her neck and shoulders.

Everything was a wreck. Windows shattered, furniture tossed around, large cracks ran up the wall, and everything seemed to be at the wrong angle. It made her head spin with vertigo as she tried to get her bearings.

Mina groaned as she sat up, feeling her body weak and trembling with the effort. Her bones, having freshly pulled themselves together, creaked and popped with the effort, but stayed in their proper places. Besides her splitting headache and nausea, the worst part was the stiffness. She felt like she was underwater, her limbs barely responding to the commands of her damaged nervous system, and her muscles suffering from whiplash severe enough to make her feel like she had literally been run over by a bus.

Or fallen from the sky.

“You gave me quite the fright,” Alastor’s voice called to her from across the room. She turned in that direction and saw him with his back turned to her, his jacket discarded to the side, as he seemed to be focused on something in front of him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, just enough for her to see the glow of his eyes and the wide strain of his smile. His silhouette against the low red light coming through the window betrayed him, showing how tightly his long ears were pinned back. “How are you feeling?”

She tried to laugh and coughed instead, grimacing as the motion pulled on her still tender rib cage. “Like I could take on the world.”

His shadow pulled out from beneath her and danced across the wall as it let its master reclaim it. It connected itself at Alastor’s feet, though it stayed stretched out and visible along the floor.

Alastor turned to look at it and raised an eyebrow as if considering something it had said.

“Someone doesn’t find your sarcastic nature very amusing,” he said after a moment.

Mina slowly got to her feet, wobbling a bit and leaned on the wall for a few seconds before she righted herself.

“Funny. It seemed to me like it was having a grand ol’ time sneaking around my thoughts.”

It was then she noticed his broken microphone laying in two pieces on the floor next to him. Her head spun as she tried to make her way over to him, her concussed state struggling terribly to make sense of the tilted nature of the room they were in.

“Al’,” she choked out, stumbling towards him as she tried to process what she was seeing. “What happened. Wh-what- . . . you’re microphone . . . what does this mean?”

“I’m honestly not sure, my dear,” he said, still turned away from her. “I’ll have to deal with that later. Right now, I have a bigger, more imminent problem.”

She noticed then the severity of his tone of voice, the barely hidden pain as he spoke through gritted teeth, and the sharp intake of breath he took every few moments.

As she came around to the side of his chair, stepping carefully around his broken staff, she gasped as she took in the sight of him.

He had managed to stitch up most of it, but there was a gash from hip to opposite shoulder that looked like it went quite deep across the middle. The stitches were the same magical illuminated green as the ones she had seen on his mouth, which normally would have intrigued her more, if she wasn’t so concerned about the severity of the wound she was looking at.

Alastor allowed her to pull back his unbuttoned shirt, exposing the part of the gash high up on his shoulder that still wasn’t stitched up. Though a bit of blood was still seeping through the rest of the stitches, this part was flowing freely, soaking his shirt and leaving a wide path of red down his ribs and all the way to top of his trousers.

She met his eyes and saw the embarrassed, frantic look in them.

“I need your help,” he whispered, looking to the side in shame. “I can’t . . . I can’t reach the last part.”

“Okay,” she said softly and then gestured at his lap. “May I sit?”

His smile spread although there was still no humor in it.

“My darling, when have I ever denied you that privilege?”

Mina didn’t respond, thinking of the many times he had done just that, and took her seat, taking the needle from his hand. It shook in her grasp, either from the shock of seeing him in such a state or from her still healing concussion, she couldn’t know, but she braced the side of her hand against Alastor to steady it before threading the needling through one side of the wound to the other, pulling the green string through as she did.

Alastor hissed in pain as she did so, instinctually flinching as the string slid through his flesh.

“Sorry, love,” she said. “Pain inflicted by someone else always hurts worse than when it’s self-inflicted, so these last few stitches are going to be even more unpleasant than what you’ve already experienced.”

“Spoken like a true professional torturer.”

She side-eyed him.

“Do ya want my help?” she said, her accent unusually thick as she struggled to keep her stress at a manageable level.

His ears pinned back tighter and once again, he looked away.

“Please,” he relented.

An idea came to her then and as she cut the string and tied the stitch, she began to sing.

If you fall I’ll stand beneath you

I’ll wrap your wounds and kiss you tender

Rip my heart out still warm and beating

To place between your ribs if yours falters

Your sweet embrace

Has made a monster of me

I can not live, I can not speak

In a world where you cease to be

Can you feel me where you are

Are you torn and bleeding too

Do the skies cry wherever you’ve gone

With rain that burns, more black than blue

Well my love, what can I do

I can not save what is missing from here

I cannot die for what’s already gone

So I’ll hunt for you for many more years

My love for you

Has made a beast of me

I cannot live, I cannot breathe

In a world where you cease to be

Your love for me

Has left this creature in me

It cannot live, it will not leave

In this world where you’ve ceased to be

She tied the last stitch and used a rag to clean away most of the blood from his skin, though some of it was so dried she decided to leave it for now, rather than risk pulling on the stitches in an effort to rub away the little mess left behind.

Once she was done, Mina leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the now closed wound, feeling the stiches poke at her lips as she did so.

Alastor blinked, coming out of the lull she had sung him into, and tilted his head at her.

“What was that for?” he asked and she smiled at him.

“Kissing it to make it better,” she teased.

“That can’t be sanitary.”

Mina reached a hand behind his head and pulled his forehead down as she leaned forward and kissed him between the eyes. His body was stiff against her, the large stitched up wound making any kind of movement of his torso difficult, but he leaned into her embrace as much as he could.

She felt her chin begin to quiver as she held him. Now that she no longer had a task to focus on, the dam she had built up around her emotions was threatening to break.

Mina had never seen Alastor so defeated; so broken and near death. It frightened her, and what was worse was that she could see that paralyzing fear reflected back at her whenever she looked at him.

He was scared. She didn’t even know Alastor could be scared.

No one had ever managed to hurt him like this, at least not that she knew of. But here he was in her arms, barely having escaped being killed by a hair. His body nearly as cut in half as his microphone was.

The first sob broke free and Alastor brought a hand to her back, pulling her head towards his uninjured shoulder.

“Mina.” His tone was low as he said her name, free of the static and the accent he used to cover up his natural voice. “Mo chagren, ma cher.” I’m sorry, my dear. “You were never supposed to get hurt.”

She shook her head slightly, sniffing back her tears, and pressed her face into the fabric of his shirt.

“What about you? That weapon of Adam’s, what did it do to you?”

“Nothing I won’t recover from, I promise.” His voice was back to his normal radio persona and she felt his shields sliding into place, hiding away his vulnerable state, even from her.

She sat back and frowned at him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said, repeating his own words from the night before.

Mina didn’t like the look in his eyes. There was still so much fear there, and desperation, and a deep seeded rage that she knew she could only see the surface of. She had never seen him in such a state; not when he had his panic attack over her leaving him, not when Kassandra had nearly ruined her, and not even when he and Vox’s friendship fell apart.

“Oh, but I can assure you,” he said, his red eyes flashing brighter at her. “My every move from here on out will be figuring out a backdoor to my deal. It’ll set us both free of my mistakes. And after that, I will be the one pulling all the strings. You’ll see.”

His shadow stretched up along the wall, its face eager and claws stretched out long in anticipation. Mina looked at it and then back at Alastor and was reminded of the unease she had felt around him when they had first met. It wasn’t quite fear, but there was a level of apprehension growing in her chest as she pondered for the first time since his return, what his intentions going forward really were.

“Alastor, I just want you safe. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t care about the rest.”

He frowned at her, almost looking disgusted and moved to stand so she removed herself from his lap and let him walk away from her.

“You still don’t understand, but that’s okay, you will. You’ll see.” He was pacing now, agitated and still clearly in pain. His hand kept coming up to rub at the stitches and Mina realized she still needed to put bandages on it, but that thought was quickly pushed aside as she became more and more concerned about Alastor’s mental state.

“I want to. I’m trying to, love. Please don’t push me away right now.”

He turned and looked at her, still scowling but his smile stretched even wider when his eyes landed on hers.

Mina felt a coolness wrap around her shoulders and turned her head to see his shadow’s face next to hers, its long fingers caressing her skin as it smiled at her.

“Push you away?” he questioned and then laughed a dry, sardonic laugh that chilled her. “My darling wife, you and I are closer than we’ve ever been. And that’s good. We can use that to our benefit.”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, studying her expression and clearly not liking what he saw there.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, her voice small.

“Like you’re afraid of me! Don’t . . . do not do that. Not now. Please, Mina- ”

His voice cracked and suddenly he was back in front of her, holding her again and she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. She wasn’t scared of him, was she? How could she be scared of him when her instincts still told her to embrace him, to run her fingers through his hair like she was doing, to let him pull her in for a passionate, needful kiss like he was. She couldn’t fear what she still so desperately loved. Could she?

“I need you,” he said as he finally pulled away, allowing her a chance to catch her breath after such an intense kiss. “I love you.” His fingers tenderly traced the side of her head beneath her ears, where there was still a painful knot of swelling. His eyes followed the path of his fingers, shining brightly with a storm of emotions she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I love you, too. Of course I do. I love you more than anything. Come on, let’s finish getting you bandaged up, okay? We can talk about this later.” She was rubbing his arms, trying to soothe him, but he still looked like he was on the verge of panic.

“The hotel . . .” he tried to speak but instead all that came out with the tuning sound of a radio, the sound Mina had grown accustomed to hearing from him rather than answers or explanations. Whatever he was trying to tell her just now, he wasn’t allowed to. He sighed hard enough to raise his shoulders and then flinched from the pain the movement caused him. “Whatever I do next, it’ll be worth it. I swear. Charlie- ”

He was silenced by static again and she felt him tense beneath her hands.

“Ssshhh,” she said, her heart beating hard in her chest even as she continued to try and sooth him.

“Whatever comes next, whatever you find out, whatever I have to do- ”

“Alastor, please stop- ”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not. Sweetheart, I love you. Please sit down.”

“I will never hurt you. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

Mina paused, her mind sticking on the way he had emphasized his word choice.

He would never hurt her.

An idea came to her then and she wondered if she suddenly understood the source of his anxiety.

There were other people wrapped up in this that she cared about. Charlie, Angel Dust, Vaggie, Sir Pentious, and even Cheri Bomb. She actually liked them, respected them, and cared about them. They had become a part of her found family, as much as her friends from The Pit were. And she had suspected that Alastor was starting to feel the same. She knew he cared most for Niffty and far more for Husk than he would ever let on, but she had hoped he felt the same about the others. But what if he didn’t?

What if he thought they were worth disposing of, making collateral damage of, if it meant getting what he wanted?

What if, as much as she loved Alastor, The Radio Demon became the enemy of the people she cared about?

Could she stand by and let it happen?

What if it wasn’t fear for herself that she was feeling, but fear for others?

Alastor was right. He could tell she was afraid, even before she did.

She swallowed, telling herself she was jumping to conclusions, and made herself come back to the present moment.

Mina smiled weakly up at him and took his hand.

“I know you would never hurt me. Please, just calm down. Let me bandage you up, okay?”

He didn’t look completely convinced but he did finally do as she asked and sat back down in his chair and let her fret over his physical state for both their sakes.

As much as she tried to focus on what she was doing, Mina’s mind kept running away from her.

She knew this man. He was a killer, a powerful demon with a temper, yes, but she had also never seen him truly harm anyone that either of them cared about. Only people that they were convinced deserved it and she had reveled in being in proximity to that kind of power for so long she had forgotten what it was like to be on the wrong side of it.

Not to mention that for 70 years she had been kept blind to the fact that he had sold his soul.

And she had seen him use people as a means to his own ends before.

This new reality she was facing with Alastor was different from anything she could have prepared herself for. He was still her husband, still the same man that could make the rest of the world melt away with his embrace. And she believed him when he said he would never do anything to hurt her. Every part of him cherished her. Only her. And that might finally become a problem.

Because The Radio Demon?

The most powerful Overlord in Hell, now chained and gagged, having danced with death and barely made it out alive?

Mina couldn’t imagine a more unpredictable and dangerous beast.

Author’s Note: And that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone who has followed along with this series. I know OC’s aren’t very popular fanfic reads but every single person who supported this story, both on AO3 and Tumblr, meant the world to me. Thank you for every kudo, like, reblog, and comment you all left me. I know season 2 feels like forever from now but I promise I will be back with the next installment after it comes out. I already have tons of ideas and a feeling for where I want to take Mina and Alastor’s story next, and I’m not afraid to break canon to do it, but I also want to see where Season 2 takes us before I solidify any plans. In the meantime, please enjoy a couple of bonus chapters I have coming out soon and check out my other Alastor x Reader stories. They were all pretty much inspired by ideas for this fic that I couldn’t quite fit into the narrative, but if you enjoy Mina x Alastor, you will like those stories as well.

@saccharine-nectarine @whoknowswhoiamtoday @redvexillum @visara-valentina @reath-solia

[sixthwater]

hi could you do analysis for Jake Gyllenhaal birth chart?

Hello!

His sag fifth stellium......

First off not to be biased but he has a leo asc so I Need Him To Get That Beard Long Hair Combo Back You're Literally Made For It, but being objective:

Interesting combo of air and fire, specifically the moon placement. Technically I guess you can call this a bucket chart cause everything near his moon is either an asteroid or a point in the sky, but his moon being the handle is like a tween dancing around to a bunch of different groups at a party because they want to mingle and they're super interested in what's going on but then they get tired or bored and then they get cranky and then it upsets what's happening in the bucket so the rest of their placements start acting up to settle the handle down. This is actually a really strong chart for what he does, but when it comes to the age old "keeping your attention" or healthy outlets when something is going on, it's not so good lmao.

i sound like a sag hate account but i enjoy sag energy i swear jfdkslaf;jia

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

What can I say? They're my favorite.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I find it kind of silly that so many of those "time based life rule" sayings are like ~deep serious guidelines~ of some sort, but then there's that one other Well Known Rule that's just like "hrmm can I eat something off of the ground or not"

[kindnessoverperfection]

I've found that, when interacting with others (or myself), it's useful to consider the lessons I'd want to teach a growing child.

If a child makes a mistake, I wouldn't want them to feel shame. I wouldn't yell at them, humiliate them, or in any way indicate to them that their mistake is a reflection of their worth or of who they are as a person.

Instead, I'd want them to associate the process with love and joy. If they say something that hurts someone's feelings, or otherwise ostracizes someone in some way, I'd compassionately explain to them. Ideally, they'd walk away knowing why they said / did it in the first place, how to handle similar situations in the future, and would accept the consequences (e.g. if a friend no longer wanted to hang out with them).

While the consequences may sometimes be painful, I'd do my best to instill in them that mistakes are human and natural, and that the process of learning from these mistakes is an opportunity to improve connections with others and express love.

I have a tendency towards excessive guilt. Memories in which I've said / done something ignorant or hurtful are infused with this guilt and shame- but ideally, I'd feel a sense of love and peace, and perhaps happiness, when looking back on them. Because they were moments of growth, moments I learned how to be more compassionate (even if the actual learning came years later).

So I'll put this out into the void:

When you make a mistake, that is not a reflection of you as a person. It is a moment in time, a moment which was informed by your past experiences. Humans are not static labels, or monsters in an RPG game. We are social creatures who live and learn and react and grow and experience and love. Be gentle with yourself and move forward knowing you're doing so in accordance with your values.

[tariah23]

I’m sorry but I’m never getting over Kendrick mentioning Drake’s cats name in the diss track bro.

[bam-monsterhospital]

women-hate

"yeah i don't like the title 'feminist', i'm not a 'feminist'-"

okay yeah understandable, it's (the movement) failed a lot of women and others, not to mention the word's thrown around without its actual meaning constantly.

"yeah i don't think feeeemalesss are better, I think women are people. so I guess I'm more of a humanist ^u^ "

... oh. oh.

(my brain running a million miles an hour): you don't know what feminism is... -you, you don't know what those terms are- you. you have internalized misogyny don't you?-

you just have no idea what words mean.

[earmo-imni]

I generally curate my dash very well, so I don’t typically see the horrendous reading comprehension that populates much of Tumblr.

But lately I’ve been going through the tag for my newest hyperfixation character, who in canon deals with some very sensitive topics, much like the rest of canon, and god damn if the reading comprehension on this site isn’t complete SHIT

[jvzebel-x]

"The impulse toward chaos was one he knew. It ran hand in hand with the desire for violence to be done to him. To destroy him because he was not worth saving."

x. "The Vanished Queen", Lisbeth Campbell

[toytulini]

honestly sounds like an unwise choice of dog(young high energy likely due to breed temperament and lineage to to have a higher reactivity and distrust of strangers?) have in that environment and im glad hes apparently living with family friends now, hope that helps w the behavioral issues

[dumblemonchickenwing]

my parents hate artists and creative people yet they are surprisingly creative in coming up with ways to say awful things about me or people in general, huh...