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#it’s good and did good things but also it’s so tragic
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Drabble List #11
75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.
"Oh no, that's heartbreaking."
"Finders keepers, losers weepers."
"I can't believe you've done this."
"You're a little to late for that."
"That's simply rock 'n' roll, baby."
"Give me ice cream. Now!"
"And this is how you do it."
"Such a sad thing to say."
"To be honest, I really don't care."
"It wasn't supposed to end like this."
"I went willingly."
"Why don't I believe you?"
"I want us to have a good relationship."
"I fear absolutely nothing."
"Want a massage?"
"It's a new law, look it up."
"Can you walk a bit faster maybe?"
"I don't know why yet."
"Don't say another word."
"That's something to celebrate!"
"Apologize and we're even."
"I hate that sound."
"This is too small."
"Get used to it."
"Oh, definitely not!"
"I am very disappointed right now."
"This is not practical at all."
"I will not take the blame for this."
"Well, tough luck, my friend."
"That's so tragic."
"No, don't say it, I want to guess!"
"I'm working on myself now."
"Can you please stop thinking so loud?"
"This is stressing me out so much."
"You can't let them get away with that."
"Are you finished, so you'll listen to me?"
"Wow, that's expensive!"
"No, not on my watch."
"That's a new low for you."
"I think, I have always been in love with you."
"You are actually scary."
"That cat hates me!"
"Please, stop looking like you want to kill me."
"Not surprised, but still disappointed."
"You're in for a big surprise."
"And I'm here to save you."
"What a failure."
"Explosive news."
"I need some assistance here."
"Aren't you happy to see me?"
"This is so embarrassing!"
"Does it start with the letter A?"
"Not the right place, not the right time."
"I'm a wonderful human being."
"That's not very nice."
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I don't even wanna know what you're thinking."
"It's too quiet here..."
"Totally on-brand for me."
"I fail to see how that is my problem."
"Well, I will make it your problem."
"Did you hear a word I said?"
"It's very fashionable."
"What doesn't kill me still hurts."
"Fucked around, found out."
"That's illegal."
"I hope you have insurance."
"Seems like you have to sleep here tonight."
"Could be better, but could also be worse."
"Tell me one thing that's true."
"I'm sick of all the lies."
"No response, as always."
"Do you think that's funny?"
"The train already left."
"Sign your name here. Now."
Drabble Masterlist
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My Espresso
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A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol
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The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 
How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.
Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.
As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 
Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.
All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 
~~~Years Later~~~
Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 
As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 
Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 
You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 
Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 
Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 
You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 
You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 
The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 
You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 
“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”
Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 
As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 
You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.
The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 
Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 
Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 
The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 
You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.
As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 
The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 
The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 
As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 
You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 
Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 
What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 
Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.
~~~Flashback~~~
You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 
Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”
Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 
He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.
Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 
You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 
As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.
~~~Present Day~~~
The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 
A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.
Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.
Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 
A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 
You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.
Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.
You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.
After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 
As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 
Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 
You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 
You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 
He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 
Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 
All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.
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chompe-diem · 1 year
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gnashing my teeth So hard someone please talk to me about “a child has a duty to his father, but a hero has a duty to the world”
#YEAH EVERYONE KNOWS IT’S A GOOD LINE#AND LIKE TY MOONSHINE FOR BEING BEV’S SUPPORT IN THAT MOMENT ETC ETC#BUT LIKE??? IT’S TRAGIC?????#sobbing slamming the floor#it’s good and did good things but also it’s so tragic#im just saying the same shit on repeat abt this line but like. it fucks me up ok?#this is my ‘what an honor. what an injustice’#(which ofc is also excellent btw. but this. actually Does fuck me up harder fr)#no bc like. the fact that it was the right thing to say makes it sadder#but to basically go#go and tell a kid that#to tell him that he owes it to the world?#over his own father. at sixteen at maaaaybe some months tops of being an adventurer#to say ‘over a son you must be a hero’#fusndhdhfbdhfhrhr gnashes my teeth and skitters across the floor. you are afflicted with duty etc etc#not only to say all that but also to mean it and also for it to be good advice and also for it to be right. just like#aaaaaaaaaaaaagh#to tell someone what they need to hear. and what they need to hear is how their obligation to the world trumps their obligation to their dad#like???????? hhhaaaaahhhhhh#to me it’s that it’s a good line and an inspiring line that just makes it sooooooooo. ugh#like this was 100% good and inspiring and heroic!#and also in the fact that it was all that it also makes me go insane bc of its tragedy#here’s the good thing! yes if you open the package you’ll see it is ‘what you owe to the world’#yeah so thats more important than your father. btw. you have to hold this weight#also youre sixteen in case you forgot. yeah glhf!#catch me sobbing
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syn0vial · 2 years
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boba fett's childhood is such an untapped goldmine of uncanny existential horror, even before he loses his father.
like, imagine growing up never seeing another child except those that are identical to you—carbon copies in every way, except their heads are shaved, they're plugged into machines all day, and they never stay children for very long. the ones that survive turn into men who look like your father, but your father calls them cattle, cannon fodder.
you're a clone, too. you should be cattle like them, but your father doesn't call you those things. he says you're his real son and that he loves you.
your father loves you. this is what distinguishes you from the cattle and the canon fodder. your father loves you and that's what makes you a person.
and :) then :) he :) fucking :) dies :)
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edwinisms · 3 months
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banging my head against the wall every time I see someone reblogging a post of mine with tags mentioning the ‘unrequited confession’. we have been OVER this it is NOT a case of unrequited romantic love it is completely canonically up in the air as a possibility. listen to jayden revri himself and be enlightened i am begging you
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13eyond13 · 5 months
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Please tell me about art and media you know of that accurately captures the weirdness of dream logic and atmosphere and emotions... books and movies and video games and art and comics and YouTube stuff, whatever you want... you know, where it only makes sense on an intuitive level and falls apart when you try to explain it...
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hella1975 · 3 months
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i cannot stand the aot fandom this is not a new take at all they are universally intolerable but oh my dayssss u are FORBIDDEN from making ANY take about the show it's actually insane to watch. 'aot is perfect' no show is perfect. 'tell me you didnt get the show 😂🫵' people have different opinions/interpretations about things. 'eren is a good guy they could never make me hate him' i think there's actually 4 seasons and two movies explicitely using him as a tool to show that no one is 'good' or 'evil' they are only trying to survive. hello. the fandom r all so far up aot's ass that they actually discredit its writing in the process and it would be laughable if it wasn't so frustrating
#bc aot IS insanely well written but no one talks about it???#like all they do is SAY how well written it is but no one is brave enough to give examples or meta bc SOMEONE will jump on it#declaring they've misinterpreted the Single Correct Way of watching the show and are dumb and a hater for saying such a thing#i remember posting about my initial aot watch on here and i did NOT like eren i thought he was whiney and annoying (he is <3)#and i thought aot was overhyped but ive since finished it at long last and omg. it is so fucking good#one of those shows that you need to watch ALL of it to truly get what's going on#and the conclusion of eren's character i am genuinely so obsessed with ill probs make a separate post just about him#bc i have really 180'd on eren and i can see now he IS well written. but not for any reason i can see anyone else talking about???#people are just banging on about he was right and justified and a saviour and tragic etc etc and while those things are important#and should be considered that also like. was not the point imo#the irony and tragedy of eren jaeger was that after all the 'i am special simply bc i was born into this world'#concluded with the revelation that actually he was not special. the rumbling happened because a normal boy got a hold of a great power#and he mishandled it. he was immature. he acted his age. he was just some teenage boy and he responded in kind#there was selfishness and silly whims and a quick temper. he was never this godlike figure he gets painted as#and i ADORE THAT TAKE. THAT IS SUCH AN ICE COLD CONCLUSION. EREN WAS NEVER SPECIAL - THAT'S THE POINT#and like countless times through history one selfish person with their hands on an insane amount of power and a conviction#that they are doing the right thing goes on to lead to a continuation of the cycle of war#like the end credits with the tree is genuinely HAUNTING. it never ended. eren KNEW the rumbling would be unnsuccessful#and would leave enough of their enemies alive that they'd eventually retaliate HE KNEW THAT and did it anyway#why? bc he just /wanted/ it. desperately and immaturely. and so the war turned over for another generation and another and#LIKE THAT IS SUCH A POIGNANT HAUNTING TAKE. I FR STARED AT THE BLACK SCREEN ONCE I FINISHED IT FOR 5 MINS IN HORRIFIED SILENCE#yes it's not his sole motivation but ultimately the crux of his character boils down to the fact he's just some kid#to the point even when he's explaining it to armin at the very end they SHOW HIM AS A KID. THAT IS THE REAL EREN#THAT ANGRY SCRAPPY CHILD WHO THOUGHT HE COULD BEAT THE WORLD INTO SUBMISSION#NOT A HERO NOT A GOD NOT A DEVIL - JUST A KID GIVEN A POWER HE NEVER SHOULD HAVE GOT HIS HANDS ON#but if u say all that some chucklefuck tells u to kys and that u just Didnt Get The Masterpiece Of Attack On Titan#but do u know what? maybe people disagree w me! maybe this is just my interpretation! guess who's NOT gonna have a hissy fit about it?#fandom is about DISCUSSION and i have never seen a fandom as fucking allergic to it than the aot fandom#like omdddddddddd have a day off man isayama isnt gonna suck you off#aot
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giantkillerjack · 1 year
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Betty is so relatable I would do the same shit for my wife
#simon petrikov#original#at#the moment where she declares that she's jumping into the future to save him. just pure save-husband impulse#and maybe she made the wrong choice but I felt the emotion in my gut and that's good tragedy baby#I would do the same thing and then be in the future and realize I probably fucked up but also what else could I do but#devote my entire life and sanity to saving her after I have destroyed every other option??#it's not healthy necessarily but a fucking apocalypse happened and her wife is in eternal torment. what else could she possibly do??#I'm just obsessed with the attitude she has towards saving him and how it turns from joyful heroism to unhealthy obsession#I have a much healthier relationship with my wife. but also she's never been driven mad by a magical crowd for a thousand years!#and Betty did it!! y'all can argue about whether Ice King was better than Simon and I think he must make peace with every part of himself#but it is extremely consistent in the original series that being Ice King is basically this existentially horrifying Eternal torture#so the fact that someone who loved him decided they would save him from that at all costs is very sad and very beautiful#beautiful because no one deserves to suffer forever. tragic because she was far to willing to take his place if she had to.#betty grof#fionna and cake#golbetty#golb#*driven mad by a magical crown#you forgot your floaties#edit: upon rewatching every episode with betty in it i will say i don't think i would be so hellbent on murdering the person she had become#betty does act selfishly and it makes her character more compelling#but i like to think if my wife went banana-pants ice-king-level bonkers i would be able to love that version of her too#but who's to say whether this story would be the reason I responded differently?#it's a good story
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silly guys that make me lose followers on tumblr dot com
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barely-alive-shrimp · 2 months
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Somewhere in... Heaven? Purgatory? Limbo? I'm not sure
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kazbiter · 1 year
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kavinsky's death is actually the closing arc in a great tragedy to me bc his actions throughout the story are mostly just him practically begging for someone to be on his side, to care about him, to even just look at him. his father tried to kill him, his mother is completely uninterested. he can dream himself as many people as he wants, but they will only ever think of him because he made them to do so. the dream pack are just physical manifestations of his desire to not be alone in the world, to have someone, anyone, connected to him. he so desperately tries to draw some sort of emotion out of ronan, good bad or ugly, because the intense similarities they share mean that he's the only person who might be willing to look long enough to see him. and when it doesn't work, when he realizes it can't, that this world is not for him and he is not going to be a part of it in a way that involves anyone else, he decides that everyone is going to look at least this once. they will all see the finale if nothing else. genuinely doomed from the start. and how truly devastating that is in comparison to the core group the story focuses on, characters that even at their lowest and darkest and meanest and absolute worst have others there with them. characters that always have someone looking for them. dying is a boring side of a life that has nothing inside of it.
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luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months
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DOODLEPAGE COMMISSION CREATED FOR THE WONDERFUL @reallybelt do YOU want me to draw you a doodlepage of your blorbo? im still doing commissions!! more information here. cmon down!! get em before the 15th when they put me down witha really big hammer
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mini-uzzy · 1 month
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RAAAAHHH RAAAAHHHHHH!!!
#officially done watching QSMP!!#I watched mainly Fit's POV bc he speaks English and has the most hours on qsmp#i would have watched Philza's but his vods included his hardcore world and made his vods much longer and also spending less time on qsmp#i have watched all of Slime's POV and since he rarely logs on and he cuts his vods it was easy to finish#for non-English speakers i have watched Maxo and Pierre's bc they are the most lore heavy apparently-#and their qsmp povs comes in episodes!! very easy to binge#lore-wise it was great!! sad qsmp was cut short bc of management issues but im glad at least Fit made an effort to make a great ending#as for everyone else's lore ive been relying on clips and compilations#my favorite event is definitely cellbit and roier's wedding bc it was so fuckin funny - i have rewatched certain parts multiples times#my favorite lore would be aypierre's bc his felt more complete and cohesive... maxo is close second... these two are good roleplayers...#Purgatory is another BIG favorite event purely bc of BOLAS ROJAS 😂 the first day was the funniest shit I've seen acted on Minecraft#favorite pair is definitely Deathduo... one bc Philza did a great representation (on purpose or not) of an aromantic character -#two because found family... im a huge sucker for found family stories... Deathduo isn't as rich in fanservice but it's part of why i like it#rare but GOLD - augh their first day with Chayanne and the whole prison arc thing 😂😂 everytime Phil catches Missa up on the lore 😂#another favorite pair is Misclickduo - if the latter was a nice story this one's on the complete fucKING OPPOSITE#everything about this family is fucked in every single angle 😂 but it has good lore esp Slime's POV with Juanaflippa#favorite eggs definitely Ramon and Juanaflippa... since I watched Fit the most it made sense Ramon is my favorite#but Juanaflippa is my favorite lore-wise bc of how tragic she is...#essay over :3 im going to sleep crying i hate Fit's ending so much BYEEEE#qsmpcroof
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moe-broey · 2 months
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HELP maybe this is influenced by how I'm writing this, or maybe it was supposed to be gleaned from canon and I just. Haven't fully thought about it til now. Haven't Deeply analyzed it beyond the blaring alarm bells that go off when reading this. But. Alfonse's,
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Straight into.
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This isn't him doubling down. This is him BACKTRACKING. This is him going, "oh fuck I think maybe I came on a little too strong maybe I was a bit too vulnerable and that's really scary. How do I fix this" and he's running through all the dialogue options in his head like Okay. Play it Cool. Keep it Casual. Proclaim your undying loyalty and devotion to your Trusted Partner (person he just told in the beginning of this conversation that he didn't intend to become friends with) by making yourself a blade and shield for them. NAILED IT 👍
#fire emblem#feh#ALFONSE. PLEASE. COME ON MAN#HUUUUUGE FUCKING EPIPHANY FOR ME THOUGH as i'm writing/drawing bc that last line i've been struggling w the most#but this. add some moe lore. I HAVE HUGE IDEAS ABOUT THE MOE LORE IN TANDEM W THE CANON IMPLICATIONS.#in short/minimal spoilers if i forget to expand on it later BUT IT'S SO HUGE TO ME. SO HUGE#but i think alfonse has Noticed. things about moe. similarities to himself. but it either#doesn't know it or refuses to acknowledge it. he isn't sure which yet. so when he says 'i hope you feel the same'#he's reaching out ala pre-skip dimitri fbs. asking moe to Consider This. AND. AND. IN TANDEM.#w the canon implications. that he doesn't think highly of himself and doesn't dare wait for an answer#AND. AND. HELP THERE'S A MOMENT THAT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY. he just commits a Blunder#that even moe's autistic ass catches him on. it all happens So quickly. in a fucking instant.#WHICH. WHICH. LED TO ME REALIZING THIS. he is trying TO CATCH HIMSELF HERE.#AND THE. ADDITION. of moe lore/the blunder why he tries to move on So quickly. please do NOT ask me questions i WILL throw up.#ALSO LIKE book 3 alfonse fresh in my mind. i did take a break after The Incident (gustav).#but like. goes so insane actually. this is really all he knows how to be. constantly in service to others. made to be a tool.#it's so fucked up bc you can see he is genuinely wired like that too. he WANTS to help. he wants to do good#but man................... i def don't have the words for it rn it's just so tragic. but i think about it All The Fucking Time.#GOD SORRY I'M HAVING ANOTHER ALEAR FB MOMENT. ALFONSE. ALFONSE.#cut off that tangent just to make a whole other post about it.#fe alfonse#moe tag#TAGGING IT. bc i rambled about it in the tags and it's MY OC I MAKE THE RULES 😤😤😤😤😤
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chiropteracupola · 4 months
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SIGHHHHHHHHHHHHH there is going to be a HAUNTED MANSION BALL in my area but it will be WHILE I AM NOT IN THIS AREA
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angorwhosebabyisthis · 3 months
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i found this lore entry recently and have not stopped thinking about it since. it is HYSTERICALLY funny to me that fandaniel's villain origin story was just being a fuckin boomer
One of few great minds in a land that had seen the slow, yet steady numbing of its people's intelligence, Amon long lamented the sorry state of Allag , concentrating his early scientific efforts on developing medicines to increase mental capacity . He soon realized that it was not knowledge that the Allagans lacked. If anything, they had too much. What his people lacked was a leader. With a renewed sense of focus, Amon shifted his studies to the field of vivimancy, and soon was conducting experiments on his own flesh in order to attain his final goal - the resurrection of Xande the First.
— Encylopaedia Eorzea Volume I, p. 25
#final fantasy xiv#ffxiv#ffxiv amon#ffxiv fandaniel#i just. i Just.#the fact that he tried to fix it by doing research to literally just give people extra brain cells#before deciding the problem was ipad babies is KILLING me#i don't know why it's so hilarious but oh my fucking god#like obviously his real problem with it was a) that whole post about how there's Fun and there's Satisfaction from Achievement#which you need a balance of; because if you don't get enough fun you get stressed#but if you don't get the feel-good chemicals that come from working at and accomplishing things#it will fuck you up Badly; and make you horribly depressed; and you will probably try and substitute more and more Fun in a vicious cycle#b) not only did he live in the depressing nightmare sinkhole of resulting society-wide mental illness#but his attempts to preserve his sanity with meaningful work kept being appropriated into Fun by other people instead#and c) his exposure to the endpoint of 'utopia'; where everyone is happy and all their needs are (supposedly) met#was watching people get Bored and proceed to entertain themselves with horrific sadism and cruelty#he doesn't come right out and explicitly make that connection out loud; but going by his speech in the aitiascope it's pretty obvious#there's a Lot going on there; especially once you start getting into how he leans *into* the cruelty he hated so much#i could go on and probably i'll write up posts about it. it's fucked up and tragic and on a serious narrative level it tracks#but it's also SO SO FUNNY#ffxivtag#FF tag#shitposting#ableism cw#endwalker spoilers
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