#author needs coffee

[killjoygod]

drastic measures | yan!rottmnt!raph

here’s a yan!rise!raph oneshot requested on wattpad! enjoy!

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Snow painted fluttering kisses to everything in its reach, neon lights here and there illuminating the scene with a red, pink, and blue hue. It wasn’t pouring, but it was enough that two girls had their hoods pulled up and scarves ready for equipping at any moment.

“April, are you sure about this?” [name] shifted in her position, looking around the alleyway uncertainly. “This seems a bit…I don’t know- Sketchy?”

The girl in question let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching her hand to her chest. “I’m offended [name]! You don’t trust your best friend?” April faked a pout, though it dissipated into soft giggles in which [name] couldn’t help but join. The two girls continued their way through the alleys, eventually coming to a manhole. Oddly enough, the snow had calmed, settling into a light shower now.

Despite the cold temperature, [name] and April shed their jackets before lifting the manhole cover. The ravenette woman gave [name] a reassuring smile before sliding down the hole. The remaining girl looked unsure, eyeing the dark hole before inevitably letting her fears fly and jumping as well.

She landed on a surprisingly soft surface - A landing pad.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Right, April did mention that one of her friends set that up so no one got hurt. [name] stood up and brushed herself off before continuing to follow April through the sewers.

It was damp and a bit humid under the city, a vast contrast to the cold atmosphere above. The walls of the sewers had graffiti all over them, most made [name] question who might’ve done it. To be fair- Who even takes the time to do it underground? She’s seen enough at train stations and in alleys to be used to it, but still - People climb into the sewers to do this? Well- Actually, it would make sense if it was the people April was showing her to right now.

They were seriously talented. Bright colors, amazing graphics and even meanings! It was astounding, [name] doing a full 360 to get a good view of the stunning images. She wished her phone wasn’t dead so she could take a picture though, it was just beautiful! No matter though, because April suddenly mentioned that they were almost there, which took any other worries off of [name]’s mind and replaced them with new ones.

Would April’s friends even like her?

She could be awkward sometimes, what if they couldn’t find anything in common? What if April likes them better? What if…What if they hate her?

It was nerve-wracking, truly. Things suddenly felt a lot more bleak and awfully familiar. April was [name]’s only friend, if she left…Alright, not the time! They were almost there, no going back now.

The whole idea of this meet-up felt so vapid. What would it do? Sure, it might not do any harm, but what good could it do either? There you go again [name], you’re almost there!

“Alright, we’re here!” April offered a fleeting gesture of comfort before ducking under an entrance of sorts, [name] following soon after. Here we go.

“Guys! I think April’s here!” A raspy, slightly high-pitched voice rang out in the rather big…house? Well, it’s the sewers- A huge skate ramp was what greeted the pair first, until four shadows caught [name]’s peripheral vision. They disappeared, then reappeared, getting closer and closer each time. She’d never admit it, but holy shit was that terrifying.

In little to no time at all, the four figures had closed in on both of them. Then, the lights flickered on, and the fear settled into confusion.

April’s friends were…cosplayers? Cool, she supposed, but why’d they get dressed up to meet her?

The four figures looked to be a mix of turtle and human, and holy hell, all four of them were built. Like- The tallest one looked like he could snap her like a- Wait why was he staring-?

“...Are you guys cosplayers?”

Silence followed, and then a sudden bark of laughter from everyone but [name]. She nervously joined in, unsure of what was so funny about the question. It felt like a taunt, like there was something they knew that [name] didn’t.

“Cosplayers? That’s a new one.” The one adorning a blue bandana wiped a tear from his eye as he spoke, light chuckles still escaping him. [name] felt heat rise to her face out of embarrassment. What was going on-? She was being genuine-

“Come on ‘Nardo, she’s obviously not seen a mutant before-” The purple one spoke up next, voice monotone though wavered with chuckles as he lightly smacked ‘Nardo’s back.

“Mutant? What’s that?” [name] spoke up quietly, now more embarrassed than anything. One of the four certainly got a kick out of the fluster on her face, but they didn’t utter a word.

“Long story short; We’re mutations. Human-turtle, the whole shebang.” Purple spoke again, a lazy grin resting on his face. [name] froze in place. Not with disgust, nor with fear. She was just so confused. How’d April meet them? How’d they get mutated? Did they always have to hide, is that why she’s never heard of something like that happening before?

“...Okay then..Uh- Good to- Pleasure to- Pleasure to make your acquaintances…?” The girl averted her gaze, internally screaming at how much she stammered with such a simple sentence. April giggled, patting her head reassuringly.

The turtles could only smile softly, noticing [name]’s nerves, so they would take the first step.

“The name’s Leo, but call me anything ya want love~!” A cold glare was shot in his direction, a chill sent down Leo’s spine immediately, but he shook it off as nothing. Probably just the wind or something.

“Just call me Donnie, or anything you see fit.” The purple one smiled gently, already fond of the rather quiet [name].

“And I’m Mikey! I don’t care what ya call me either to be honest-” The orange turtle grinned brightly, light just radiating off of him like he was the sun above.

“My name’s Hamato! Wait no- U-Uh- Raphael- C-Call me Raph-” The tallest one, adorning a red bandana, looked just as nervous as [name], and it was probably the light but it almost looked like his cheeks were flushed as well…No, probably just the light.

[name]’s nose was a rosy pink from the cold and it twitched out of habit. Aw, she was like a little rabbit! Absolutely adorable. She looked at the four turtles and smiled gently. It was a genuine one that made the red turtle swoon internally. He felt his heart pound even more just under your gaze…Why did you make him so nervous?

“It’s nice to meet you all! April talks about you guys a lot, so it’s an honor to finally see you guys in person.” She chuckled, looking at the other lady before back to the turtles. “I’m [name].”

The girl’s smile grew just a bit more, feeling her prior nerves get lifted more and more. The brothers sensed it as well, happy that she was comfortable now. ‘New friend acquired’ and all that jazz. Well- Except for one of them.

Raph wanted more.

Her every little move made him want her even more. She was pulchritudinous, ethereal. She was something he had never seen before, something he never knew he needed. She wasn’t loud, she wasn’t immature, she wasn’t like other people he’d met.

She was amazing.

She was his.

The rest of the night went by unfortunately fast. [name] and the turtles + April settled on playing video games and watching movies for most of the night. Raph couldn’t stop looking at [name], memorizing all your mannerisms and ‘tells’, while also dealing with any of his brothers [mainly Leo] that were getting a little too close to her.

Halfway through the hangout, Raph and Donnie had left for a bit to talk or something along those lines. The red turtle had come back after around 10 minutes, purple one taking longer, but for some reason…Donnie’s behaviour had changed. He seemed more on edge and an odd guilty look kept crossing his face whenever he met eyes with [name]. His hand also seemed to be resting in his lavender hoodie’s pocket a lot more.

Throughout the night, everyone had taken a few breaks for snacks and pizza dinner, but overall it was just a very fun and chill time. Donnie had heaters planted all over the base so the cold outside wouldn’t affect them much.

[name] got along with the brothers really well, even their dad Splinter. Everything was going great, but time, like all things, went by too fast.

It was getting late. Way past midnight, probably, but the only clock may or may not have been missing because a certain someone removed it while no one was looking. Things were calming down and mostly everyone was tired. [name] didn’t really want to leave, but she did have her part-time job the next day. Morning shifts sucked, but she didn’t have a choice.

She was going to say her goodbyes and leave with April until Donnie asked to speak with her in private. Raph sent a small grin and cold gaze that seemed like a threat over in the purple turtle’s direction, eliciting another guilty look from him.

Donnie pulled [name] over to the kitchen, hands behind his back now. She looked up at him with confusion, tilting her head. “Did you need something Donnie?”

He only looked more guilty, eyes brimming with the emotion to the point it was about to pour out. It was concerning the girl.

“[name]...I’m so sorry…” He was about to take his arm out from behind him, but at the last second, he couldn’t do it. “I can’t do this. Listen, you need to get out of here as fast as you can- Raph…He’s not going to let you go. I don’t know what happened, but he’s not acting right. You’re in danger, [name].”

She didn’t even have time to process his words before what happened next. Donnie didn’t either. A large shadow cast on the room, before suddenly, Donnie was yanked away and shoved to the other side of the room. Though, the thing he had been holding back from [name] was now in the new arrival’s hands. She felt her hands begin to shake at just the sight, eyes widening.

Raph.

The red turtle glared at Donnie with a hatred that should never be put upon on a brother, yet here it was. Donnie was holding his bruised softshell, though what was most concerning was his tight hold on his throat. The edge of the kitchen table had damaged his vocal cords, and he couldn’t yell for his brothers to help them. Then, like a flick of a switch, his eyes were softer once met with [name]’s. Not another second wasted, the item was revealed to be…a syringe of some kind?

Oh hell no. Raph inched closer and closer, eyes radiating a sick kind of lovesickness that stirred an uncomfortable feeling in her gut. She backed away from him step by step, until her back inevitably hit a wall. His hand pinned her there effortlessly, and her yell of help was cut off when the syringe was plunged into the side of her neck.

He watched with curiosity and satisfaction as [name] almost instantly crumbled to the floor, holding her face in her hands, feeling her body shift and change around the bones. A scream of pain left her lips, which felt like catharsis when put up against how quiet and soft she had been this visit. It was rewarding for him, in a sick, sadistic way.

A sick realization racked through Donnie’s body. Regardless of the scream, no one would hear them. He had sound proofed the whole hideout. He was their inevitable downfall.

[name]’s screaming only died down after the rearranging of her innards and external appearance was done. Raph stared down at her with the utmost adoration, and when she finally looked up at him, regardless of the strong glare, he melted.

She was beautiful.

She was his.

Her new form as a mutant was just as stunning as the human form, if not more. Raph was head over heels. How could someone be so…lovely?

[name] was horrified at her new appearance. She didn’t feel right in her own body, I mean, was this even her own body anymore? She felt tears escape her tight grasp on emotions, resulting in her figure shaking even more.

Short gasps escaped her lips as Raph picked her up easily, caressing her hair. She wanted to cry, scream, fight, kick, whatever it took to get his hands off of her. But he didn’t relent, only giving Donnie the silent command of staying fucking quiet.

He carried [name] to his room, laying her on the bed. “Now we’ll be together, forever.” He chuckled softly, moving a piece of her hair to the side. “I mean, who else is gonna love you now?” A smug grin was what he gave before heading back down and explaining to everyone that she wanted to stay the night.

He also explained that Donnie had a really sore throat and wouldn’t be able to talk for…a while :) The two remaining brothers only shrugged it off as him coming down with a cold. It wouldn’t be too shocking, considering how low the temperatures in the lab sometimes got.

April was suspicious, but not for long.

Who couldn’t trust the kind, loving Raph after all?

[stpwrites]

Art by Chris Yarborough.

Sometimes to save the world, you've got to punch a few dragons…

When the planet is being eaten by interdimensional parasites who literally tear holes in reality, what do you do? If you're Charlie Chase, you dive headfirst into an interdimensional adventure. Charlie knows her calling is a weighty one, but she trusts her mentor’s orders: Travel to another dimension, fix the tear, and get home to do it all over again.

But when she gets stuck on an alternate Earth, she has to turn to the most unexpected of allies: a younger, more eccentric, more infamous version of the brilliant mind that sent her on her mission. This version of Vera Baum is as much socialite as scientist, who seems to embrace the notion that curiosity killed the cat, in the way that means she's determined to use up all nine of her lives blasting through a kaleidoscope of genre-bending realities. Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better, especially when they’re pursued by reality-eating parasites and a biomechanical hound hellbent on killing Vera.

Ladyhoppers by Sarah Thérèse Pelletier and Scott James Taylor, a casually queer, genre-hopping, multiverse-spanning, madcap buddy comedy packed full of flaming zeppelins, coffee shop romances, car chases, dragon punching scientists, and more pirates than you can shake a multi-limbed death machine at, is available for order now!

[invinciblerodent]

and another very small, very minor entry on the list of Things I'm Getting Just a Tiny Little Bit Miffy About Seeing Repeated (Not Angry Just Ever So Slightly Annoyed)TM:

dnd elves do, in fact, mature at the same rate humans do. they're not "like children" or "not considered full adults" until they hit 100- not to anyone other than other, older elves.

like I get where the thought comes from, I fully understand it, I've read many of the source materials myself, I've read Mordenkainen's and see where the misunderstanding comes from, but... to a human, or a tiefling, or anyone else shorter-lived than an elf, a 50-, 60-, 90-year-old elf is just like a 50-, 60-, 90-year-old of their own race would be. they just look much younger than their age, and act in accordance with their personality, which is.... much less tied to someone's age than many may think. (I mean, have you never met a 50-year-old who seems just staggeringly immature? a 20-year-old who is wiser than their years would allow? have you never been to a retail establishment???????)

it's only the other elves who view a younger one as emotionally immature, and that's mainly because they have yet to bury their first generation of friends and loved ones: something a shorter-lived person only has to do once, while elves may very well go through several cycles of that in one lifetime. They have also not yet had their Drawing of the Veil, when they stop being able to access primal memories, memories of their soul's previous lives, but it's mainly the "all my once-powerful and vibrant friends are now frail and dying from old age, and yet here I remain, as young, strong, and beautiful as the day they met me, untouched by the inexorable crawl of time, what is mortality, what is death" thing.

if the people of Faerun in general thought of a 40-year-old elf as immature, as if they were a child, Astarion would have just patently not been an appointed civil administrator and judicial officer (which is what a magistrate is) 200 years ago. like he could have of course been lying when he said that that's what he was, but taking it as the once-truth, nobody would have let someone they see as a child fill such a position of responsibility. It was, however, a perfectly mundane thing for a learned adult man, such as he was, to do. (what he may or may not have done with the power he allegedly had, the kind of person he was, and whether letting him have power was the right move overall, is pretty much completely irrelevant at this juncture. corrupt officials exist regardless of age, just look at the judicial system of any country today.)

an older elf like Halsin, their maturity is not just on a different level, it's measured by a different metric than that of a shorter-lived character.

it's hard to accurately roleplay or grasp something like this with our human minds, none of us have ever spoken to a 300-year-old after all, but.... a 100-year-old elf is not a "young adult", unless you're an elf yourself. If you're a human, they're just... an adult.

[incoming-wormhole]

do you ever read a fanfic and just want to send the author money for the joy they have brought to your life

[asummersday]

My favorite thing ever is writing a character drinking coffee to stay awake when coffee has exactly zero (0) effect on me whatsoever so I cant even confirm if that method works

[opalsnake]

just read an article whose tagline was we live in unserious times

[bumblingbabooshka]

Babe, Wake Up! New T’Pel Just Dropped. (Description from the Novel ‘Pathways’)

[constantvariations]

Wait wasn't Jaune written to be an obtuse dumbass whenever it came to romance? Like in the beginning of the show he was using his father's advice of "all girls look for in a man is confidence," which no one who's ever spoken to a woman would actually say, and in V7 he compliments Nora's new look after she very obviously attempts to flirt with Ren

Not only is Jaune's line "I've been waiting a while for that" dumb meta cringe, it's not even in character!

[adelindschade]

A Thousand Futures (A Thousand Cuts, Part 17)

*because I suck at titles* 

Soft Nessian Fuff, Domestic Snippets, and Rhys’ just desserts implied towards the end ( to be expanded on later)

They established a pleasant routine. Domesticity was favorable and he yearned to return to it after a grueling day watching over the meager recruits that they had to work with. The cabin would be warm, and he was overjoyed to find her on the couch, dressed down in something cozy, and a new book in her hand. There was something about Nesta being home – making this place her own space safe just as it had been his – that prompted him to rush the threshold to join her.

“This couch is not big enough for both of us,” she chuckled.

“Now it is,” he amended, manipulating her legs to settle on his lap.

He couldn’t get enough of her. She was calmer, too. Another change he was grateful to witness. There was no bickering or uncomfortable silence that wedged them apart anymore. If there was a stiffness to their posture, or trouble lined on their face, they’d be quick to address it, and talk it out. Genuine conversation. The kind that offered comfort, and problem solving, and acknowledgement that Cassian realized he appreciated. It was nice to be seen and heard. He didn’t know that was something he was missing until Nesta was there each night, allowing him to vent about everything and anything that bothered him.

Mostly stress from the growing demands of work and the strain war had on Illyria. Those issues were easy to diffuse and nullify over a mug of tea and retiring to the comforts of bed. His family disfunction was another ordeal.

“Don’t – don’t you dare!” she squawked as she saw where his fingers lingered. She tried to kick free, but one hand had held her ankle hostage.

“Your feet are so small,” he teased, ghosting over her heel. His hand could encompass the entire circumference of it. It reminded him how tiny she was compared to him. She may be taller than most females, but she was slender. Her frame was deceitfully slender – yet he could feel the definition of her legs when he squeezed the muscle. She was healthier, heartier, but still so small and dainty in contrasted to his own build.

“Cassian, no,” she barked but a smile played on her lips. His growing grin rivaled it.

“I wonder what would happen if I took this off,” he played at her sock.

“No,” she whimpered, pouting. “I’m cold! Please?”

“The fire is so hot, it’s scalding my skin,” he gestured to the blue flames silently dancing in the fireplace parallel to them. He began to pull at the cotton. She screamed and thrashed but in vain. Her hands clawed at his, dropping the book to free her tortured appendage.

“I’m begging,” she tried to plea, but she fell forward in a heap of laughter. “I’m serious!” she persisted but her tone implied anything but. She paused and so did he, following her lead. “What do I have to do to sway you to not do what you’re thinking of doing?”

He prolonged a moment of ponder, grinning rather viciously.  

“I really want to do this though,” he insisted, shaking with laughter.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment I did nothing to deserve. This is a war crime. Torture! Azriel would categorize this as torture! Why are you so cruel? How’d I get stuck with a sadist?” she smacked his arm with her unfinished book. He barely felt the strike, but he spun his shoulder nonetheless to avoid the bluntness of the paperback cover.

“You are theatrical,” he mused fondly, massaging her calf.

“You are ridiculous, and mean, and I don’t like you,” she decided, feigning a haughtiness, and returning her full attention to the book.

“Is that so?” he toyed, rubbing her foot as his hand descended back to where he intended.

“Nope,” she insisted, popping the ‘p’ for extra effect. She leaned back and ignored him. His ticking point. She was playing him like a fiddle, and they were both aware of it.

“Then I suppose this doesn’t make much of a difference,” he schemed. His fingers began to tickle the soft skin she rarely showed, and she contorted at the sensation, squealing, and thrashing fruitlessly as he stimulated the sensitive skin with his callous fingertips. She was like a twig in his grip, with him holding the ankle in place as he didn’t relent in the slightest.

Her melodic, free flowing laughter was like a siren sound to his ears. He only had to stop the shenanigans when his hand had to stop the other from kicking his thigh. She bit back her bottom lip, red in the cheeks, and unveiling dimples as she tried in vain to hold back a smile.

“You’re a dick,” she cackled, rolling back her head into the pillow.

“I’ve heard that,” he played along, tilting ever so slightly until his chest lined up with her arm. She had to shuffle an inch to wedge him between herself and the back couch cushion. “I’m your dick though.”

“That sounded so bad,” she wheezed, snorting through her nose in a failed effort to restrain herself.

“It’s going to get worse,” he promise with beaming optimism.

“I don’t doubt it,” she agreed, granting him one of those rare, unrestrained smiles that brought out her best colors. The speckles in her eyes, the rosy hue in her cheeks, the supple pink of her lips, and the way her freckles stood out across her nose and under her eyes. He was enamored with all of it.

His arm draped itself across her middle and tugged her close. She acquiesced and nuzzled closer.

“You’re so cold,” she remarked, gliding her fingers up and down his arm. “Have you been outside all day? You must have been freezing.”

He had ample protection, but the wind was especially brutal. His face was still burning from its vicious bite, and he managed to stifle his sniffling as he acclimated back into the warmth of the cabin. He relished in her body molding to his, and the softness of her hair as he rested his chin atop her temple, but mindful not to apply pressure as he observed her full frame.

It was a dream he would kill anyone that woke him up from.

Dark leggings, an oversized sweater, one foot missing a sock, and a blanket strewn over her lap that was close to falling off the ledge and onto the rug. Her skin was far from freezing and smelled like spice – likely from the batch of fresh cookies that she managed to not burn, sitting tantalizingly on the coffee table next to a steaming mug.

He wondered if, since she made them, if he took one for himself, if it would risk snapping the bond in place. He dared not tempt fate and kept his hands away from the baked goods and occupied himself by swarming the same digits around her torso. The other arm tunneled under the throw pillow they shared.

Her fingertips continued to draw undecipherable pictures across his skin, sometimes tracing the ink, and then falling off the path to design something herself.

“You are hot as fire itself. Emerie must have been working you overtime,” he noted affectionately. She was driving the cold away.

“Who knew sewing made you sweat?” she replied. The corner of her lips tipped upwards in a content smile. She had an easiness about her, relaxed and placid in his embrace. “That’s a misconception. It’s not the sewing. It’s the tedious needling and framing and cutting – no, I won’t bore you. I will say my legs are like jelly from kneeling in the same position for too long. We made progress today on a huge order. I can’t wait for it to be done.”

“Not used to being on your knees all day?” he dared to test the waters. Cassian was fully aware his words bore more meaning than one. His grin was apologetic.

She slapped his chest but could not bury the laughter that muffled through his shirt.

“You’re disgusting,” she snorted, burrowing deeper into his chest.

The first week together – cohabitating – was utter bliss. The first day was awkward simply because she was slow to add touches of herself, but Cassian insisted that she bring in whatever she could, ask for whatever she wanted, to feel at home. She didn’t have much to spare from Emerie’s humble closet turned temporary guest room, and not much else before that given what things Elain loosely packed on her behalf to be delivered to the House of Wind.

There were a few updates to be made around the cabin to benefit her. He expanded the bookshelves and Nesta took up every inch she could with her smutty, sickly romantic books. They brought her joy, so he’d extend it however much he could ensure she never ran out.

He especially loved watching her face light up as she raced through the chapters. The widening of her eyes, excited when the lead character made a bold move; the gasp when the couple did something naughty and unsavory; and the whimper and pained expression they had a fight – something dumb and easily avoidable, he assumed, as she yelled as much at the pages. Idiot, idiot, idiot! She scathed, grunting in frustration as abandoning the book for a moment to process.

He adored how she bit her bottom lips, showing off those lovely dimples she hid from the world. Any reason to coax a smile out of her, he would do just that to ensure she did.

He loved how so engrossed in the plot she became. So much so, she didn’t even protest when he encroached on her space without warning and rested his head on her stomach as his arms ensnared either side of the tiny figure.

Somedays, she’d be lying on top of him as he couldn’t turn down the temptation of gathering her up and taking her down with him on the couch as he recouped much needed rest. Her back would melt into his chest, a perfect fit. There’d be times he’d catch her feet playing with his. She would turn the page and he tried to follow along, but his attention was cut to the cascading hair she undid for the days she could spare her scalp the irritation her many pins caused, a stark contrast to the braids and coronets she favored before.

He was getting pieces of her no one else got. She was peeling back layers and her heavily guarded walls. He never thought he’d get this far. He never thought he wouldn’t have to fight to her to put aside her teeth and claws. Cassian was grateful for these moments shared just between them two.

There were other parts he savored, too.

The way she rejoiced when she successfully baked her favorite cookies, not quite the same taste as the way the bakery in Velaris fashioned, but close enough she moaned she devoured the first batch, and the second, and teased that she’d spare him one if it wasn’t for the tricky bond.

No cookie yet, she would laugh off. He’d reply he wasn’t one for sweets anyhow, admiring her small – but meaningful - success. She would find a way to make herself at home, one encourage step after another. Good, she’d harrumph valiantly. More for me. I don’t like sharing.

She still baked an extra batch, and another, for Gwyn and Emerie. Corinne wasn’t fond of the excessive sugar, making Cassian laugh as he had an ally in his distaste for the treats. Finally, something in common in the stubborn youngling, but that didn’t lessen her resolve against him. He was adamant that would change – but Nesta and Emerie shared a comical look that implied he was deluded.

Still, if Nesta ever were to offer him a cookie, he’d eat it in a heartbeat – even if his mouth puckered at it’s odd, over-sweetened taste.

He didn’t want to share Nesta, not even when he knew his High Lady was asking about her constantly. It was selfish and he knew it. The little improvements and victories he witnessed to were something he kept close and near to his heart. Those were Nesta’s triumphs, and he did his part. It was a joint effort and one they celebrated together in their own, private way. This was primary her own celebration, and something he was granted privilege, too. He wouldn’t spoil it for either of them.

She was gaining her strength, her figure, muscle even, and more importantly, that smile and glow that lulled him to her side. She retained her confidence and her held her head high amongst the toughest and crudest parts of Prythian, defying them in a way he knew only she could accomplish. It reminded him so much of that haughty mortal female that stared him down despite his towering size, unwilling to show weakness. Strong of mind, body, and soul – alive with a fire no one could tame. That was his Nes.

Nesta wasn’t broken or defeated. She was nothing like the hollow shell whom he found in a pool of her own life source. She didn’t resent him anymore or push him away. She would close the distance and try to mend their differences. It was a pleasant change and one he intended to nurture without further interference.

They’d bond over breakfast, with her remarking fondly at least one of them could cook, or else they’d be screwed.

You hunt, I roast – he negotiated, remembering her posture with the bow. Her aim was off, but it was better than before. He’d convince her later on the day to allow him to show her the proper handling, and maybe able to meet her mark before sundown with his instructions.  Nothing beat the proud expression that took hold of her face, enlightening them both, and bringing about a newfound cheer to conclude their day.

But you’re so good at both, she whined. He was nearly tempted to cave if it wasn’t for her obvious teasing.  She’d come up behind him, nestled to his back as her thin arms coiled around his belly.

I’m confused by how you insist on being independent and yet desire nothing more than to be a spoiled wife, he jested back lightly. He knew her nose scrunched but a smile remained on her blessed face. They were both content, making the most of a quiet evening as the storm rolled over the grey mountain side.

I just hate the cold, she giggled. It was the most enticing sound. You get the game and I’ll make sure the fire is stoked and the sheets are warm. Deal?

So many ways to construe that sentence and her grin implied she knew the subtle context behind it, too. The Valkyries were keen on their jokes, teetering on the dirtier sort, and now it seemed Cassian was a recipient of that exclusive humor shared amongst the three. For now, she meant literally, rather than metaphorically, and Cassian was content with that.

Deal, he chuckled, rotating slightly to reel her closer. He’d find declining Nesta any request was a war effort in and of itself. She’d accept his answer regardless, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. Never again. He had years to make up for the instances he already had. If she knew how much a hold she had on him, he’d be ruined – but he found that he didn’t mind it at all. Let her make a mess out of him. So long he was hers.

His arm logged around her neck, careful not to suffocate her, and she tilted in the direction he desired until she was latched at his side – hips conjoined. All Cassian wanted to do in that moment was plant a kiss to the crown of her head. She leaned into it, preening.

In public, they struggled to mind their distance, and pay heed to where their hands settled. In private, all bets were off. Nothing intimate yet as clothes remained intact, but he couldn’t get enough of her body sewn to his, their hands locked, and able to relish in their scent mingling.

I’m not sure if it’s the food or the woods or whatever you wore, but something smells good, she’d say. Cassian was certain it was to mess with his head. She took a deep whiff – first to his shirt, lingering for a second – and then to the sizzling pan. Yep, it’s the food, she declared.

He simply shook his head and let out a laugh. This female would kill him. She knew exactly what she was doing. He wanted nothing more than what he could fit in his hands, and she was like the perfect glove to keep them warm.

To say Cassian was in a foul mood was the understatement of the century. Finally, Rhys would visit, even with Feyre’s labor imminent in the next coming weeks. The matter in Illyria was urgent and Rhys needed to establish himself. Cassian had been begging him to do this for weeks it seemed.

Only it meant putting Rhys and his mate in uncomfortable proximity. It was unsettling and Cassian awoke angry as the prospect that Nesta, whom he held close and found safely tucked under the blanket, would be once more exposed to the very thing that nearly took her from this world. The last two times the in-laws interacted, great harm befell her, and Cassian would not stand if she were to be subjected to something similar again.

There were too many discontent Illyrians – and Nesta was a prime target for them to take out their frustrations if Rhys were to muck this one up. That’s to say if Rhys wasn’t the one himself inflicting the damage, with his words or spite or the magic he spun when provoked. His High Lord was always incensed whenever Nesta was concerned.

This time, she was stronger, and with a grudge to bear as mighty as the flame she wielded, awaiting his arrival. It would have been seen as threat – likely would any how – despite it being black as coal in the early morning hours the couple gathered on the mountain outskirts. Perfectly practical to make most of what they could to illuminate themselves.

I want to talk to Nesta. Rhys had warned him prior. Nesta was fast asleep while Cassian stirred restlessly, though not too riled to disturb her peaceful slumber. She has the power to help Feyre.

No, Cassian deafened in reply. Nesta wouldn’t even know how to help Feyre when her powers were still a relative mystery. His High Lord was asking too much, and she’d be burdened with blame – and whatever punishment he thought just – when she couldn’t deliver a miracle. Rhys had been stunned silent. I stand firm by what I said. When it concerns my mate, you are to mind your distance. No demands. No guilt trips. No questions. She shouldn’t have to risk her life just because you risked Feyre’s.

That’s her sister! Rhys roared.

That is my mate! He returned just as loud. He was happy to use the same logic Rhys always weaponized to serve his own purpose. Fair was fair. Just because you endangered yours does not mean I should endanger mine! Does Feyre even know you’re asking Nesta about this matter?

…Yes. She knows now.

Ah, that explains the sudden change. Rhys would not have parted from her side otherwise… unless Feyre demanded space to process the betrayal. His High Lord sounded defeated. Exhausted, even. Estrangement could do that. Cassian almost pitied him. Almost.

Cassian would have asked how that development happened. Mor wouldn’t have opposed Rhys and he doubted Amren cared enough either way to be the one to breach the silence. Too much trouble on her part. Azriel was too occupied with his mission and Nesta was still recovering from the slight dealt by her sisters, deciding space was best for all of them now that she had the power to decide what she wanted.  

They may be ready to forgive but Nesta hadn’t quite reached the same acceptance, and Cassian would respect that. She would not be forced into anything unless she was truly ready. A reunion between sisters must be sincere, Cassian agreed. The ground they reunited on ought to be equal.

“I will help,” Nesta decided after Cassian disclosed that Rhys would be asking a great deal of her. The window was still black, and they had been slow to dress, lingering in the kitchen as the hearth lit blue.

“You can say no,” he insisted. He despised the idea of her pushing herself, to make another daunting sacrifice that could cost them both. “This is his mess. He had more than ample resources and time to have figured this out.”

“I can’t give up on her,” Nesta murmured. He enclosed his arms around her, offering his support silently as she met his eyes. There was no hesitation, or even anger. She had made her mind up. “Feyre is my sister. We have our differences, but she should not be condemned to die simply because… because Rhys is too prideful to admit his faults,” she growled the last part.

“We can punish him later but even I’m not fool enough to think Feyre won’t give him hell for what he withheld from her. By all means, this is her battle, and her cross to bear with him. However, I will not stand idly by when we haven’t exhausted all options. Let me try – trust me to try. Feyre is a fighter, but this isn’t something she should do alone. I won’t allow that to happen again as I wait for people to step up and do what’s right. Not again,” she whispered the last part, bowing her head as her eyes dulled in color.

Guilt shrouded her features. He didn’t like how strained her face became, or how tight her brows furrowed together. His thumb rolled comforting circles into the small of her back.

“I waited for my father to do something for so long, and he never did,” she recalled with some lingering bitterness. “I got the brunt of the blame and part of me believes it was justly deserved. I was a hypocrite for demanding action, and yet I did nothing but stand aside and push a crippled old man to be something he refused to be. I take full responsibility for that. I supposed I was just furious how his memory lives on, so easily forgiven, while I bore the blame for everything. I will admit my fault, but it never sat well with me that he never got any himself. It’s behind us now,” she decided. “I can’t be angry anymore when I accept that I was just as culpable as him when Feyre took up his burden, and I made as many excuses for myself as our father did.”

“He eventually stepped up but…” she mulled it over, biting back her lip. Nesta shook her head, unravelling some of her free-flowing hair, and sighed. “So many people wait, and wait, and when it’s too late, we lose so much we can’t get back,” she hissed, discarding her mug to cross her arms, clearly agitated as ghosts resurged from the past. “I never got to make peace with my father, or recognize his effort to… do the very thing I yearned for him to do since we were cast into that miserable cabin but… I can’t repeat the same mistake again,” she croaked in a whisper.

She blew out a long, ragged breath. Then, to his astonishment, she lifted her head, and her eyes were hard, lit with a new purpose he could not extinguish. He swallowed roughly, unable to tear away his gaze from something so entrancing.

The woman to braved the wall and demanded to follow a mercenary into the wilderness was revived before him. Steadfast and true, unafraid, and undeterred. Nesta would not waver, and no amount of reasoning would compel her from this quest.

“I can’t stop you from doing anything,” he assured, kissing her head chastely. “That’s something you two have in common.”

Gods help Rhys. The ferocity of the Archeron sisters was legendary. To invoked the wrath of one would strike fear in any sound mind – but two? It was a death warrant. Rhys only had himself to blame for his own predicament and dragging Feyre down with him.

“I will help Feyre, as much as I can, and then some, until I cannot anymore,” Nesta leaned into his affection. “I love her too much to repeat the past. I know what is most important. I won’t punish the wrong person. I won’t be blinded by my anger to forget what matters most.”

They swayed. He didn’t know how else to comfort her as she bore her soul open – sharing things she would otherwise not. This was exclusive to him, and him only, and Cassian worried one wrong word would silence her for the worst. He didn’t want to risk Nesta thinking something that wasn’t true because he didn’t craft his words carefully enough to considering they could be misconstrued. Instead, he reinforced his support with unbounded affection, nurturing what it was between them.

“Rest assured, if Feyre doesn’t make him pay, I will ensure Rhys will suffer for what he has done to her, how he lied to her, and that he will never, ever commit the same offense again so long as I breathe. The betrayal he’s committed is unforgivable, but that isn’t my cross to bear. I will hold back my anger for now, though I doubt it hold a candle to the wrath Feyre has in store for the bastard.” That brought a smile to her face – gentle at the surface but Cassian knew Nesta too much to underestimate her vindicative streak.

“Oh, we both know he will regret it,” Cassian vouched, smoothing down her hair. Her small hands settled on his sides – unable to reach any wider. They stayed like that for a moment, savoring the closeness. He closed his eyes in bliss, memorizing the even rhythm of her breath, and the patter of her heartbeat.

“There is much more pressing matters at hand, but once this is solved… if Feyre doesn’t roast him alive…” she smiled too wide.

[hydraxx]

i am consistently disappointed by my own expectation that grad school AUs will be written by people with any experience of grad school. no i will not learn anything from this.

[sixofravens-reads]

Next read! Been reading mainly SFF all year and I think I'm getting burnt out on it, so I decided to give this Icelandic crime novel a try.

[necesito-mas-cafe]

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Idioma: Español

Clasificación: Maduro

Advertencias de archivo (con spoilers): Representaciones gráficas de la violencia , Muerte del personaje principal

Resumen:

Danny sera su nuevo rey, por las buenas o por las malas.

Aka: Danny no la pasa bien en el trono, y puede que llegue a entender por qué el rey anterior se volvió loco

[fazcinatingblog]

The receptionist was trying to tell Sophia what she worked on today (filing/sorting the archive room, and getting rid of files 2015 and earlier) and Sophia's like "no Laura already got rid of those files" THAT WAS LIKE THREE YEARS AGO. WE'RE IN 2024 NOW

[morrigan-mckay]

Writing status 1

Well...I intended to use this as a sort of accountability source, but that hasn't happened yet.

So it happens now!

I'm writing a novel. I intend it to have mystery, suspense, fantasy, and romance.

I have completed the structure outline. The cast isn't finished yet. I haven't really started on the main plot. Subplots are in progress...maybe I should create a checklist here...

[astonmartinii]

it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader

when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple

request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx

author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others

yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off

view all comments

user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us

user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense

yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me

yourusername: sure, jan.

user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me

maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that

yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes

user4: babe? are the flowers from max?

maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️

yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(

user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people

liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you

yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?

liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨

yourusername: no comment

liamlawson30: choke.

yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine

user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever

user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others

oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend

view all comments

user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT

landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?

oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure

landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?

oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms

landonorris: FAKE NEWS

oscarpiastri: okay buddy

user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that

user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens

user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!

logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see

oscarpiastri: and what?

logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long

landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?

oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?

logansargent: there's levels to this game norris

landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE

oscarpiastri: okay girly

user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others

yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨

view all comments

user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT

user19: but this mystery man IS

maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?

yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep

maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you

yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE

maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him

yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️

maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP

user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend

user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit

user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol

user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her

this comment was liked by yourusername

danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?

yourusername: snooze you lose

danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS

danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB

yourusername: protecting my peace

danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me

view all comments

user27: so this was the special occasion?

user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?

user29: this is now my roman empire

yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud

oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you

yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought

user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some

logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol

oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it

logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying

yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)

landonorris: I KNEW IT

oscarpiastri: no you didn't

landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt

oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions

landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???

yourusername: boo hoo

landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me

yourusername: good ❤️

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)

view all comments

user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition

logansargent: logan erasure

yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️

logansargent: SCORE

user33: every time you post there's a new plushie

yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win

user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE

oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor

yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR

oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor

yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works

maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again

yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it

oscarpiastri: not even for me :(

yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)

oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(

maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today

yourusername: we ARE cute thank you

oscarpiastri: the CUTEST

fin.

note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Love (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: 1,323

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.

Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.

He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.

She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.

"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.

"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."

"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know what love is."

Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.

"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."

Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.

"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."

"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."

"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.

"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."

"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"

Alastor looked up from his glass.

"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."

"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.

"Actually, I do."

Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.

"Alastor! You've been in love!?"

Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.

"Yes."

Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.

"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.

"It was a long time ago."

Alastor took a long sip from his glass.

"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion

Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.

"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."

He trailed off, taking a breath.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.

Alastor shook his head.

"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."

"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.

Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."

"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"

"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."

"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."

"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"

"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."

Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.

"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."

Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.

"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"

"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."

"Then wh-"

"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"

"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.

"I'm sorry."

Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"

"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.

Charlie turned to him.

"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."

"Right you are, my dear."

"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"

Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.

"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."

"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."

"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."

"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"

"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."

The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.

"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.

"Y/n."

It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.

"Her name was Y/n."