#it's why he made the choices he did in the story

[loudclan-clangen]

Fish in a birdcage for Rosehip amd Dodwood tho

YES

Bee is not one of the rogues himself, but two of his sons are! Also one of Butterfly's sons, and two of Coal's sons that he had after Fiercestripe left. They aren't really important to the story so they don't get names or anything, but I think that it makes everything a little bit more tragic that Fierce is fighting her nephews who she would have loved to watch grow up and might recognize her from when they were young.

2. Kingfur and Sockeyepelt would both be pretty devastated if Chumtail dies, she's similar to Dashpaw in that she's kinda the mediator between her two more polarized siblings. Really everyone who's up on the chopping block is the most stable of their family, meaning everyone is going to be very NORMAL after this, I'm sure. Also thank you!

3. Yes! There will be stickers of the mediator kids (especially now that you've asked). I'm drawing sketches based on what people have requested, and I'll make a post letting everyone know when they go up. Currently I have Weed, Siltsplash, the Mediator Kids, and some couple stickers in the works.

There were many factors in Fiercestripe's decision. 1. Thorn was 4 moons old by the time Fiercestripe left, so she was well past carrying size (especially with Fiercestripe being a small cat). Even if Wildfirecry could carry her, or she walked on her own, it would slow their pace significantly and require them to take more breaks, leading to the farm cats likely catching them. 2. If Fiercestripe had taken Thorn then the farm cats would have more justification to track them down and forcefully bring them back. It's one thing for a she-cat to leave, it's another for a she-cat to take her mate's kit with her. (part of why the farm cats have made it to loudclan now is because they're chasing a pregnant she-cat). 3. Wildfirecry hadn't agreed for Fiercestripe to come with him. He was a stranger who had stayed a couple nights with the farm cats and was just as likely to turn her away or harm her as he was to allow her to come with him. He would have been a lot less likely to agree to travel with her if she came with the responsibility of a kitten. 4. Wildfirecry and Fiercestripe did not have an easy journey. They didn't have a destination or a set path, they just wandered from place to place for years until they were convinced to join Loudclan. It's pretty likely that had Thorn been brought with them she would have frozen, starved, drowned or been eaten by a predator given that Wildfirecry was the only one with any hunting or fighting skill, and kittens aren't as tough as grown cats. All in all, bringing Thorn along wasn't really an option. Fiercestripe's only choices were leave Thorn or stay with the farm cats and hope that another outsider came along later when Thorn was grown. (Thorn's story is a bit different, Frost and Spider were outsiders who joined the farm cats later in life, so Frost knew how to hunt and fight, thus allowing them to wait for their kits to grow before they left.)

I designed them on my own! I find pretend genetics very fun and it gives me a chance to think more in depth about the rough backstories I have for these characters and how their childhood would have affected the way that we see them act in the story.

[potatomountain]

CIY CH 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Made for you" 📍WC: 3.1k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, suggestive 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour 📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune

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The two of you shared a moment before you pulled away, finding the spark of tenderness in his eyes alarming. Despite the trust you just spoke of, it was still hard to lean into it without anxiety.

Others had shown you tenderness.

“So, you said you wanted to know my feelings right? Now that everything is on the table.” You glanced down at your drink, only for your eyes to flicker up when you thought he flinched- but his expression was the same, just a new tilt to his head.

“Right right. Though I think I understand already, Angel. We're growing on you aren't we? But you're scared? After the way your last unit handled things, I can understand that-”

You sighed when he trailed off. “But not entirely huh?” At his nod, you know it's your turn to indulge some personal information. “It was more than just a betrayal of comrades. I was close with them, considered them family. Mingi didn't… he didn't tell you all?”

He shook his head, his undivided attention on you now, listening with encouragement that was making this talk a bit easier. “He said a few choice things about Captain Chan but otherwise didn't go into details why his negative feelings were so strong. We assumed he just felt that strongly about you, considering he admitted to punching him and pretending to be your boyfriend during an altercation.” The corners of his lips turned up vaguely, which you assumed was due to your own flustered expression.

You were touched by Mingi's feelings, remembering his many attempts to prove he did like you and wanted you. As well as the fact that he hadn’t seemed to give up details about your harsh rejection, just how he had stepped in and played the rough hero you hadn't wanted but needed. “I see… I owe him an apology then. I assumed he had told you all about what happened.”

“Camera in the hall. We have Mingi bring women there because we can get surveillance footage of it all up to when He takes them inside. So… Yeosang indulged a bit and we didn't give Mingi a choice. Though he didn't go into details…”

You sighed, somewhat appeased. “Yunho made a comment… So I assumed.”

“Ah, Yunho is a different story. Those two tell each other everything. They grew up together. Would you be comfortable telling me?” It was the fact he was asking, putting your comfort first, that eased your nerves enough.

So you told him, recounting the story with a detached tone to make it easier on yourself. You told him of how you confessed to Chan supposedly, how the next time you saw him he served you with the transfer papers. You told him of your outburst immediately after, demanding the others to tell you who agreed you should transfer since Chan said it was a team decision. Minho, you're best friend had agreed and he hasn't contacted you. And then there was Felix.

That's how you were banned from contact because of the hell you raised. Changbin had to remove you from the office with some uniforms, an ugly sight. The man had no doubt sported a bruise or two on his face afterwards.

You told him about Felix, how you were sure you had loved him, and that you couldn't have faulted him for it. He thought he was looking out for you. Always sweet intentions.

You ended the story with the altercation in front of your apartment, playing with the empty beverage cup and unable to keep the emotion in your tone as you told him of Chan's confession before Mingi stepped in.

Silence followed, the air heavy and weighing down on your shoulders. The longer it lasted, the more anxious you became until you finally sparred a glance at him. After pouring your heart out, figuratively, pure undiluted anger was not what you expected to see on his face.

“Angel… I-” He started off, gaping like a fish as he seemed to struggle with what to say. The way his expression hardened like cold steel, eyes still burning with that ire as he glanced behind you, had you shifting to turn. “Don't turn around. You have some bad luck it seems.”

You were quite confused until you heard it, heard them. “Chan, that's not what I'm saying at all.”

“Then what are you implying Minho?” The sound of chairs scraping behind you slid up your spine like nails on a chalkboard. “First her, then Hyunjin, now Felix. I'm losing the hold on the unit.” The familiar gruff voice told you just how stressed he was, and you knew he hadn't been sleeping again.

Guilt grabbed at you as if this was your fault, hands bracing on the table to stand up and leave because like hell you wanted to stick around and listen to this. To let them hurt you even more.

Yet Seonghwa's hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, shaking your head and bringing a finger to his lips. Whatever game he wanted to play, while it confused you, your hands relaxed and you stayed silent.

“Hyunjin will come around, he always does, he cares for Felix and the rest. He made it no secret he was unhappy about the transfer. And Felix… he'll listen to you. You just have to talk to him- properly this time.” Minho urged, his voice closest to you.

“Because I do that so fucking well. You told me everything would work out if I put in the transfer request, Min. But why haven't you talked to her either?” A beat of silence. “Yes I'm aware you haven't reached out. Hyunjin was loud about that when I pushed Felix for answers. You're her best friend, why are you silent? Did you fuck this up on purpose? I trusted you when you said I could have her this way.”

Panic surged through you at this revelation; is this why Minho hadn't talked to you? Your whole transfer was his idea? Why? You had believed he had known you best, that he would have been on your side. That, just maybe, he hadn't talked to you because he was just giving you space?

This betrayal hit harder than Chan's.

“I thought she would understand. You received enough warnings about her, they were going to take action against the whole unit at that rate.” Minho sneered out, the edge in his tone snapping you out of the dizzying spell the pain had you under.

Chan scoffed. “Please, you didn't want her to get in the way of your career. I know the higher ups talk down on you, even when they are bad mouthing her they still recognize her drive. You were in her shadow and-”

Seonghwa slammed his hands on the table, standing up now. He glared at the two behind you with such a menacing fury it snapped you out of the spiral in your mind and gave him all of your undivided attention. Especially when he growled out your name. 

He moved around the table and pulled you up by your waist. You were captivated by the wrath radiating off of him when you realized it was entirely on your behalf. “Vi-”

He shut you up with a harsh kiss, pulling you fully onto your feet with the motion. The sounds Chan and Minho made noticing your presence were distant noises to your own thoughts at Seonghwa's kiss. You could feel his anger, but also his desire for you with every harsh stroke of his lips. Heat flooded your body, drowning out the cold betrayal that had settled in the pit of your stomach a moment ago.

The groan he let out when you kissed back went right to your core. For a quick moment he deepened it, grip on your waist tightening enough to pull a moan out of your lips. It was that sound that had him pulling away, but only his lips to glare back at the other two. “Your trash, our treasure.”

It left you spinning, the emotion ringing in those words as he dragged you out of the cafe. You hadn't even bothered to look back at them, staring up at Seonghwa instead with a plethora of emotions on your open expression.

Seonghwa chuckled as he pulled you over to his motorbike; it was a dark and unhinged sound that added to the growing cotton in your head. He had just shown you how caring and sweet he could be: respectful even. And then the anger- you couldn't really untangle the mess of emotions that had you feeling, just that you didn't dislike it.

And there was a touch of horniness there. Well… that's interesting.

Seonghwa once more jostled you out of your thoughts as he lifted you up onto the bike facing him, stepping closer to slot himself between your open legs. You glanced up at him, once more with your thoughts and emotions worn on your features as you were still figuratively reeling. “Vice?”

“Call me by my name- no my nickname Angel.” He said as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the apples of your cheeks, then the tip of your nose, forehead, and finally lips. “And tell me not to go in there and get violent.”

You couldn't help the gasp that left your lips, immediately getting swallowed by him in what felt like a desperate kiss. He had just told you he was a peacekeeper, a negotiator of sorts, so for him to say he wanted to be violent?

“Hwa-” It fell from your lips like a soft caress, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer against you, “-Don't go in there and get violent.”

Despite doing what he said, he protested with a pout, lips trailing along your jaw to your neck. “Why not? They hurt you. Absolute scum. Treated you like trash when you're so… so much more than them. They lost a good fucking thing.” His angry words were paired with little bites and nibbles, grip tight on your ass now As he pressed the length of his torso against yours.

It warmed your heart, and turned you on even more. “Th-they deserve your anger, Hwa. Would rather- ah fuck- rather have you like this.” He had found your sweet spot, melting you further against him as his lips attacked it once more with a soft bite. “Hwa~ please I-”

Tugging at his hair to pull away, you tugged on it harder when you heard those two familiar voices calling out to you. He delatched himself from you, quickly turning you on the bike and pulling the helmet on. “Time to go.” Voice still gruff as he pulled his own helmet on.

He started up the bike just as the two reached you, this time you allowed yourself to look. Chan looked pale, distraught, tears in his eyes you weren't going to acknowledge. But Minho- it was the first time you saw him in nearly two months and he too looked ragged… and angry. But he always looked angry when he was upset about something, even if it wasn't you, so you didn't think about that either.

Instead, as the bike beneath you roared to life drowning their words, you gave them the bird as you latched onto Seonghwa’s waist with your other arm. He drove off in the next second, speeding through the streets to leave them both behind. Both literally and figuratively.

They weren't your unit anymore, especially those two. 

Seonghwa dropped you off at the club soon enough, the bike still running as you got off and handed him the helmet. You used the ride to really think about what had happened, what Seonghwa proved to you. 

You tapped on his helmet, asking him in a roundabout way to take it off. He shook his head in reply. So with a bit of a pout, you kissed the visor where you guessed his cheek would be. “Thank you for today Hwa. I appreciate it. You'll be picking me up?”

He nodded.

Smiling, you fixed your hair. “Then I'd like to continue later if we can.” With a wink you turned and headed inside.

Minho's betrayal felt like a distant memory now, wrapping yourself into work and looking forward to seeing the Vice-Captain again. 

You had loved Chan, loved Felix, but neither of them, or anyone else you knew, made you feel like this.

Seen. Respected. Cared for. Supported. Wanted. All of that and genuinely. 

Well, no one before this unit. Wooyoung popped up in your head. So did Hongjoong. San, Yeosang, and Mingi too, to an extent. There were moments with them all that had you feeling like this.

As if you weren't fully alone. In those moments you had felt like you could let your walls down, let them in, and feel loved and accepted as a whole.

Seonghwa had you feeling like that again when he picked you up, quiet on the ride back but once he was parked in front of your apartment again, he was a gentleman. He took your helmet off first, then his, and immediately pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Were you okay today Angel?”

You knew he wasn't talking about the work, but what happened. “Surprisingly… yeah. And I think that's because of you.”

His eyes went wide as he cupped your face, pupils shining in the lowlight from the street lamp. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly flustered, you tried to look away. Ah, feelings and admitting them: two things you struggled with. “I mean… the way you reacted, to what I told you and to them, was uh… oddly comforting? I didn't feel… well it's kinda like-”

He chuckled softly, placing a hand on the small of your back. “Take a moment to think about that but I think I know what you mean.”

“You do?” You looked up at him as he lead you inside, letting you put in the code before stepping in. 

“Yeah. I uh, don't get along with my parents. Didn't follow in the family footsteps. It's a choice I made alone and it was scary, I didn't really have anyone who would understand my situation either… until I met Hongjoong. I told him about it, when I found out they are setting my sister up to be married off to, well, one of the underworld. He got angry, but not at me. It was the first time I saw him so furious as well.” He sighed, walking you up the stairs, taking his time to just talk with you.

You caught on to the vital piece of information he dropped, realizing that while Seonghwa’s parents had Golden Circle connections, he was working hard to take them down. He had something at stake here, making him the fourth- no fifth one in the unit who had some tie to the underworld. 

Your vendetta against Taejin Hwon felt so small in comparison.

But you also noticed the fondness that settled over his features at the memories he brought up, an adorable curve to his lips and a soft light in his eyes at the mention of Hongjoong's anger specifically.

He cared for Hongjoong deeply, and you admired that about them; felt a bit jealous even.

“He was angry for me, because it hurt me, and it was the first time in a while I didn't feel so alone. It was comforting, and the weight on my shoulders was a little less debilitating.” Stopping in front of your door, he turned to you fully. “And it seems this was that moment for you… am I right?”

“Y-yeah. I mean I've had people get angry for me before, to an extent but this felt… different.” You couldn't meet his eyes, feeling unnaturally shy for once. Perhaps it was due to the amount of vulnerable moments you've had with him today; opening up in a way that took even Hyunjin a while to get out of you. 

You couldn't forget Han and Felix, he'll even Changbin and the two younger ones- they all had moments you knew they genuinely cared. But this was different. Seonghwa, and this unit was different. You just couldn't put your finger on it.

“Talk with San tonight, maybe tell him what you told me?” Seonghwa offered, lifting your chin so you would meet his eyes again. “Can I have your permission to confide today with Hongjoong? Only the details you want told of course, I wouldn't-”

“You can tell him everything.” You blurted out, grasping onto the bravery and courage you usually had and pulling it to the surface. “I trust you Seonghwa, more than I'd like to admit right now but… if you trust Hongjoong enough you get all doe eyed when you talk about him, then I trust he is as trustworthy of this information as you are.” 

Seonghwa blushed at that, a beautiful sight to behold, before he buried his reddening cheeks against your shoulder. “You are… truly a treasure.”

Now it was your turn to get flustered. “Hwa… will you come inside?”

“Want to… but can't.”

“Why not?” Your fingers carded through his hair, pout in your tone.

He hummed softly, leaning in closer. “Because if I come in right now I won't leave so easily. And I have somewhere to be before the sun rises.” When you whined again, he pressed a soft kiss to your collarbone before stepping back. “Sorry Angel.”

He left a moment later, and nearly an hour later you were calling up San while laying in bed, freshly showered.

“Finally! I thought you forgot about me sweetcheeks.” His voice in your ear had you flustered. 

“I just needed a little extra courage to call. Are you doing okay?”

“I'm fine… Why the extra courage?”

“No reason in particular, just, wasn't ready to talk about what happened in the gym. Especially since I know they know.”

You heard him hiss, picturing him physically flinching at your words. “I'm sorry about that I-”

“It’s alright. I know it was Yeosang. I'll be talking to him later about it. For now. I miss you. Is it okay to just talk?”

And you did. You told him, surprisingly, everything. About Wooyoung, the job, Seonghwa, and of your old unit. He listened, even reacted much like Seonghwa did.

You felt it again. That sense you were loved, that you weren't alone… but this time you figured it out.

It felt like you were finally home. 

And as San said, once again, you were perfect for them- You thought it went both ways. They were made for you.

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[lazywitchling]

“So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?”

(Yes I did just order a pot pie from the chicken fast food place. I’m watching 12 hours of movies, I ain’t cooking a whole pot pie!)

Okay. Look.

When I was younger, my cousin bitched about elves at Helm’s Deep not being in the book, but I didn’t think it mattered because it’s cool and I liked elves and it made me the fun kind of sad when Haldir died.

But now I get why. (I mean, ultimately it’s a fictional story so it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life, blah blah, you get the drill. I will complain about this, but I don’t care if you like it, ya dig?)

So here’s the thing. Theoden’s whole storyline throughout this movie and into the next is that he does not believe anyone will help him. Gondor could have come to save his people, but they didn’t. Rohan was left on its own, and people died, and that sucks. So Theoden has succumbed to the depressive thoughts of “We’re all gonna die anyway, why bother fighting?” (Hey that’s a major— actually THE major point of this whole story!!) He has hidden his people away to hide because he knows fighting is futile because they will be alone.

It’s a big deal when he agrees to go out and fight alongside Aragorn as the Uruks are about to overwhelm the keep. I said last year, Tolkien’s brand of hope is the difference between “I only have one hit point left :(“ and “I still have one hit point left >:)” Theoden STILL has no reason to believe help is coming, but he chooses to act like it is anyway, because the alternative is just curling up and dying right there. And he is rewarded, because Gandalf shows up with reinforcements!! Eomer, who has every reason to hate Theoden, brought all the riders to help! Everyone is saved! Hooray!!

But the damn elves show up in the middle of Theoden’s “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. And then elf help arrives. And he goes “Yay, help is here!!” And then nobody really mentions the elves again except for Haldir’s brief dying scene, and Theoden is right back in his “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. It just slaughters the pacing of the story, and Theoden’s arc along with it.

Furthermore, the elves say they were sent by Elrond, who has chosen to have the elves fight alongside mortals once again to honor old alliances! Except that Elrond isn’t really participating in this portion of his own character arc, and in fact doesn’t reach that “idk maybe mortals aren’t so bad after all” point until RotK. So it’s somehow fully out of character for him at this point even though he’s not even there.

ADDITIONALLY, it fucks up ARWEN’S story, because the whole thing with her is that she has to choose between sailing to the undying lands and being with her people forever but losing Aragorn, or staying with Aragorn who will eventually die and then she has no one left and no way to get to the undying lands and will never see her family again and will just live until the heat death of the universe. See, I’m pretty sure (don’t quote me on this) that there’s like… a respawn thing that happens with Tolkiens elves. They’re not only ageless, they’re unkillable. They CANT die. That’s why Arwen’s choice is so difficult. She couldn’t even live out life with him and then jump off a bridge after he dies so she doesn’t have to see the heat death of the universe. She’s literally stuck.

But friggin Haldir takes a sword to the head and has a sad death moment, and then I’m left wondering why everyone is pestering Arwen so much. If elves can die, then she has no problem.

I’m pretty sure it messes up other storylines too, but my pot pie is getting cold.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

My Espresso

Alastor x Reader

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

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.

[distort-opia]

What do you think of how recent DC writers view and have been writing Joker?

Ah. Well, depends on your definition of "recent". I haven't fully engaged with comics published in the last year, to be honest-- not to the extent of keeping up with every issue and story arc. When it comes to Joker, I feel that Rosenberg was the most promising writer in the past couple years, what with The Joker Presents: A Puzzlebox and The Man Who Stopped Laughing... he actually wrote Joker as a mix of hilarious and terrifying, with depth and glimpses of vulnerability. But then Zdarsky made a whole-ass mess of him.

You could argue it wasn't his fault. Technically it all started with Geoff Johns (I say, through gritted teeth) and whoever in editorial also thought it was a good fucking idea for three Jokers to be a thing. Johns continued to hack his way through Joker's character by giving him a canonical name, because why not screw up one of Joker's fundamentals (a lack of a certain past). And then Zdarsky had to try and force all of it to make sense somehow... which, I guess, he could've done in worse ways. But it was still bad, and I still disliked the Zur-en-Arrh arc and Joker: Year One. DC keeps pushing Joker as an entity that's almost inhuman, a boogey-man only defined by a hollow obsession with Batman; giving him the backstory Zdarsky did robs him of so much agency and choice, of so much that used to make the character interesting. (Alas, I spoke about my opinion on this elsewhere in much more depth, but I can't find the damn post. All hail the tumblr search function.)

I haven't kept up with Ram V's stuff though, and whatever's happening in Detective Comics. I do know Joker shows up there, but I don't know if it's in a well-written way or not. Needless to say, I am a bit burnt out on Joker comics as of late. I'm still waiting for the stars to align so I can get back into things.

[lover-of-mine]

On the question of the new viewers. Let me preface with after getting burned bad I made a promise I would never ship Canon straight characters as queer ships ever again. It just comes into play to understand the readers digest version of this. Yes I was always aware of the Buddie ship and the actors but that was it

I accidentally started season 6. It just came on, and I just didnt look away. Here's how it went.

I actually saw the lasagna dinner scene and thought wait they went Canon? That's them right? Then quickly realized. Nope 2 straight besties. Bucks a cool uncle (didn't know about will scene forgive me). And proceeded to not get attached.

Actually easy because they separated them a bit. But then there was the lightening strike and poker date and I was like oh somethings happening. I was wrong they had the dopey ass ending and I was like bless me for not getting invested.

Then.... It was a year wait!!!!!! So it was a boredom tune back in. I was pleased to see Bucks bi story. I thought the first kiss was charming. Then he was just there. I left the season thinking Eddie was tragically in love with his dead wife and Buck was experimenting.

If I didn't go back to binge I would have gone into 8 with these expectations. Eddie either excepting he was a tragic single father forever. Buck, yes probably seeing Tommy, but no I was not a shipper. Firstly because of appearance. I have no problem with age difference but with them I just don't like it. Tommy seems older and rougher. On the flip side personality. That Tommy wasn't what I pictured Bucks end game as like at all. I wanted someone like Spencer Reid if it wasn't Eddie.

But... . I did go back and binge. S1 was a trip. Got to S2. Saw the opening. Went duh I get why they ship them, but you ain't getting me. Until the elf scene. I really was good. But right after the elf scene I remembered hearing how Tim wrote it as a nod and double checked.. Remember, it would be weird to see the scene and know Tim knows after knowing full well yes Buck would come out queer. So it really was a no brainer after that. No way Tim created this in S2 if they weren't end game if there was ever a chance.

Then came the well, tsunami, shooting, will reveal, break ups, co dependant idiots and finally caught back to the lasagna and lightening. Also seeing how much Eddie isn't a reliable narrator about his relationship with Shannon. The version I got at the end of 7 is not what was happening on my screen in 2. I would almost label it a red herring depending on how this plays out in 8. Also after watching the begin episodes I understood anyone's frustration that Tommy was just white washed.

Final conclusion. Not even trying to sound condescending but I don't know why the other side even thinks this is a "ship war". I was late and I never hated Tommy but I would have never shipped them as end game. I couldn't even tell if Tommy actually liked Buck. I was left with the ick of Buck was a consolation prize or second choice and Buck was trying way to hard. Taking scraps and being grateful. Maybe because I binged it was more fresh but it was more of how little self respect Buck had for himself in trying to be in a relationship.

And if anyone finished reading that you deserve an award.

This is an interesting view of things, I think if you only have the s7 context, you will see them differently because the whole Kim thing really messes with the perception of Eddie and love, thank you for coming and telling me this, really.

But this kinda made me talk about my experience with buddie, so I'm gonna do that, because I think it's funny. I didn't know much about the show, but I knew of buddie, I started watching during the hiatus between 5a and 5b and during that time there was some big talk about queerbaiting going around and I know of them next to ships like destiel and stucky and destiel, I had just read an article on queerbaiting that had a section talking about them, so I kinda assumed buddie would be the same as they had enough context to create a ship but not enough for it to have a real chance of going canon, so I was set on not shipping them. Like, I was legit ready to roll my eyes and see that Buck and Eddie with their respective female love interests and be like "okay they are never going anywhere" but then an elf pretty much calls them gay as Eddie justifies sleeping with his wife 10 episodes in and I was like "oh oh" because they have a compelling friendship and I'm a sucker for best friends to lovers, but I was fighting it, until the tsunami, because seriously, I watched Eddie go "there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you" after a situation where no one would blame Eddie if he needed time and I was done for. Then they just kept getting more insane about each other. I remember watching the will reveal and being like "wait, fuck me, are they gonna go there?" because they follow all the basic procedural slowburn tropes, and I started s5 being like 👀 about everything that was happening to them. Now that Buck is bi, I'm seriously 95% sure buddie is happening because all the elements are there. There is something very compelling about Buck and Eddie together when you look at the whole show and s7 really added to that. Settling for Buck in a relationship with someone who's clearly not that into him just because it's a queer relationship doesn't feel right when Eddie is right there.

[say-hwaet]

The Dynamic Between Arthur and the Marstons (long post )

I guess I should say there are spoilers, just in case…

After playing the story through several times, I have to say, that Arthur Morgan is one of the best characters ever written. Aside from his development, there is so much depth to him, and regardless of his honor, there is so much to unravel.

I’ve been thinking about the relationship that he has between the Marstons, meaning John, Abigail, and Jack, and it really makes sense as to how Arthur acts the way he does around them in the beginning and all the way to the end.

A lot of his behavior, I think, stems from the loss of Eliza and Isaac. It is my opinion that he himself was torn between living a full life with them and remaining loyal to his gang, and before or by the time he had made a choice, it was too late, as they were killed in a robbery. This had haunted him since and it made him extremely bitter. Later in the game, he tells Rains Fall that he realized that he didn’t get to live a bad life and have good things happen to him. I also think that he was with Eliza after Mary had broken their engagement. I can get into my support for this later, but that isn’t what this post is about.

I think that Arthur was angry with John out of jealousy. He is the “golden boy” and clearly was Dutch’s favorite at one point. Not only that but after Arthur loses his own son and lover, John and Abigail get pregnant and he takes off for a year. He abandons his family, which Arthur takes personally. Arthur had tried to do right by Eliza and Isaac and still failed. So when John has Jack and is within the circle of the gang to help and support him, he takes off. Arthur gives up a potential life with Eliza and Isaac for Loyalty to the gang and John throws it all away. When John comes back, Dutch welcomes him with open arms, and Arthur believes that he would have been held to a different standard if he had come back after being with Eliza and Isaac for a long time. And it doesn’t help that John treats Jack like crap in the beginning of RDR2.

Arthur, imo, was a good father to Isaac when he was present. We can see this in how he treats Jack. In Arthur’s journal, he writes how he should have married Abigail, but due to his feelings for Mary, he didn’t. I’m not sure why after years of not hearing from Mary he would say this, but meh. Perhaps, the hope of starting over, or that she did pop in again at some point (which is how Abigail might have met her?). Anyways. I think he says he should have married her so that she would have someone to rely on and that he could be the father Jack needed. He cares about Abigail, but I don’t think it is anything beyond that. Arthur seemed to me not to be one to be with a woman without some sort of relationship, based upon how he treats women and the prostitutes in Valentine, so I don’t think he was ever with Abigail. Even so, Abigail relies on Arthur, and while he puts up a front, he gives her money for clothing and spends time with Jack. Heck, he even tells John to step up and be a dad. In some of Arthur’s conversations with John, he tells him that he can’t be two people at once. He’s speaking from experience. I think he’s subtly telling John he needs to make a choice as to what life he’s going to live. Hosea and Arthur both tell Abigail and John to leave at parts of the game.

When Jack is kidnapped, and eventually rescued, I think it is one of the most heart-wrenching missions and scenes. I can see it in Arthur’s body language that he longs for the family that he once had. He’s alone in his pain and when everyone is celebrating, Arthur doesn’t sing with the gang; there isn’t even the option to do it like it does other times. Even in my first playthrough, it seemed so sad to me. Everyone was drinking and singing, but Arthur just looked so sad.

So, it is at this point that John starts to step up, and Arthur starts to show symptoms of his illness. When he learns of his diagnosis, Arthur’s eyes open to the reality of the gang’s downfall, and he acknowledges the doubts/reservations he has about Dutch’s plans and schemes. He isn’t blindly loyal anymore. He tries to get John, Abigail, and Jack out, so that they can have the life that he had lost due to loyalty to the gang. He continually tells John to get out and that it would mean a lot to him. In his journal, after rescuing John from prison, he writes in his journal “…We’ve argued over the years, but I’ve grown to care a little for [John]. He’s less of a fool than he was, and maybe he can have the luck that has eluded me. Jack is an innocent little boy. In him, I see what I missed [meaning Isaac]. We did it.” This speaks volumes to me about how he feels about them in the end. He sacrifices himself to let John live. And though it isn’t forever, Arthur dies believing that he made it, and that matters. And hopefully, he could finally be at peace and see Eliza and Isaac again.

I could keep going, but I think I am too long-winded. I guess that helps when writing fleshed-out fanfiction stories, but not for posts. LOL

Would love to hear other thoughts or opinions, I’m always keen for a discussion.

[devinox-art]

Kyle from the @sanguinesky-if. Listen, he's my favorite and no I won't take any criticisms. Ramblings under the cut:

Everyone talking about thirsting after the detective, but there's no way this man doesn't have a least one secret admirer (unless that was Kelly and that's why that random jealousy scene exists).

Fun Fact: I did not clock the "You're worried about Kelly" option as the Detective expressing jealousy towards Kelly the first few times I selected it and just thought the Detective was going "Aww, how sweet, he does care". I have since been picking the option right under to try and get this man to relax (a fruitless task since they start arguing immediately afterward 🤣)

(Side note: no hate against that jealousy moment, but you have to be holding some serious ill will against someone if your first thought in that situation is "oh no, is my man crushing on her?" and not "oh no, is she going to lose her job?" But I personally can't imagine my character being jealous either. In fact, Darcy would be highly amused if someone tried vying for Kyle's attention because she knows him all too well.

But if he decides the reciprocate for any reason? Pray for him.)

Kyle, wear you're damn glasses, you coward.

P.S. Sorry about his nose, the guy I was referencing had a really interesting nose and I couldn't resist drawing it 👉👈

More Ramblings

!!Spoilers for the end of Chapter Two if you take K's route!!

While I'm at it: that scene in Kyle's office is actually my favorite to dissect. Like, they're both kind of equally responsible for what happened. The Detective is the one that initiates it, first of all, but it's not entirely unreasonable. At this point of the story, the situation sounds like it will actively interfere with their job, on top of the stress of unsolved murders, and - depending on choices made, on top of grief. A lot people would want answers in this situation, and knowing there's someone who has them would point them in their direction.

But then you walk in and the Inspector is noticeably Stressed the Fuck Out. But you have a job to do and need a resolution to the problem that cropped up.

The Inspector does have the answers. They knew about the situation but either felt like you didn't need to know or couldn't know to avoid possible interference. This information is understandably above the Detective's pay grade. Maybe under different circumstances the Detective would've come to the same conclusion but they are also Stressed the Fuck Out and are feeling entitled to some answers since, from their POV, this is now directly involving them. Tensions rise and the resulting argument ends with the Inspector telling the Detective to quite.

This is, of course, A Dick Move.

But the way this line is delivered – not snapped out of anger or out of inpulse, but with a sort of disconnect that usually comes with a dawning realization, is so interesting to me.

At the end of the day, K didn't mean to say this, but whatever realization they came to, made them actively think, in that moment, that this was the safest resolution, and it slipped out. The Inspector actively doesn't want the Detective in harms way, but the Detective is acting too determined. The frustration both sides are feeling right now!

The Inspector just wants the Detective to act in their own best interests, but can't or won't say why out of this inexplicable fear, and the Detective is literally just trying to do their job but is either being judge as incapable of doing it by their offical Deputy Chief, is having to deal with outside interference who don't seem to respect anything the department is trying to do, and is purposefully being left out in the dark in a way that is preventing them from judging the risks themselves; everyone has taken it apon themselves to do this for them in this reguard! The Detective is literally just being told to stick to these strangers, even though these strangers are apart of the problem the Detective is having, and if they can't follow their orders they shouldn't be involved at all! The Drama ✨️

Additionally:

In Darcy's POV, she takes it upon herself to calm Kyle down, assuring him it's not his job to know EVERYTHING that is going in in the department. Kyle isn't the actual Deputy in Chief for one, and two he's not omnipotent. Then in the ensuing arguement, she snaps out "Because it's your job!"

This particular conversation feels very much like Darcy trying to point out he's taken on too much and is letting his actual duties fall to the wayside (I had a supervisor like this, and boy did I have to solve a lot of problems on my own that I probably shouldn't have). Whether this is a valid arguement to make in this particular context is debatable (again, this topic is probably above the Detective's pay grade, but there is an arguement to made about it directly impacting her), and it's not like either of them is thinking any of this through, I just find it interesting how these replies line up.

[yesbutmakeitgay]

No One Breaks My Heart Like You

GIF by dailyflicks

Carol Danvers x Reader

We’ve Loved A Thousand Lives

Same beginning, different story every time.

Part 7.5 | (Part 7)

Angst, Injuries, Divorce.

A/N: Best of luck to all of us...

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling 💜

Word count: 6.7k

Masterlist | This collection | AO3

It’s been weeks since your disastrous break up with Carol, and she has spent every moment of that time trying to reach you unsuccessfully. She can’t track your devices, and you won’t answer any of her calls on your phone or at work.

In a deep moment of defeat, she decides to contact Fury, "Are you missing any agents?" she asks him suspiciously.

Fury doesn’t show any emotion, "Are you asking me if I've misplaced a whole person lately?"

Carol is unsure how to phrase her question without admitting to breaking the rules, "Have you?"

"There is an agent who hasn't come in for a while, is that what you're referring to?"

"Perhaps," The Captain gestures with her arms, "she's about this tall, great at her job, gorgeous."

"Carol, did you lose your wife?" he deadpans.

"My—what?" She tries to play it cool as nerves take over her entire body.

"Oh, come on, I’m not a fool, and you're not that sneaky."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Fury still seems completely unbothered, "She’s always with you when she's off work, you take your vacation at the exact same time, and there's a picture of her in your house."

"It's not a picture of her, it's a picture of us," Carol mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

"Whatever, I already know."

"So, you're not gonna tell me off?"

"She doesn't work for you, it's okay."

Carol shoots him an angry look, "Why didn’t you ever say anything?"

"I figured I'd let you keep it up for as long as possible."

"You could have saved me a divorce!" That certainly catches Fury’s attention.

"Wait, what?"

She shows him two wedding bands, "I have both of these, I’m only supposed to have one!"

"That bad? What did you do?"

"Why do you assume it was my fault?"

"You're the one holding the rings."

Carol puts the bands on the table and responds in an aggressive tone, "She said I don't have enough time for her, which, did she not know she was marrying the single Avenger in charge of protecting the entire universe?"

He squints his eye, "What did she say exactly?"

"Something about my availability to everyone else."

"Did she give you a whole explanation and that's all you got from it?"

Carol remains silent, trying to remember your last conversation, "That's not the point, help me!"

"What do you want me to do?" he responds bluntly.

"I don’t know, page her? Say it's an emergency."

Fury sighs and looks at her with sympathy, "For you, I will try, but you should know that once she's off the grid, she's impossible to track down."

"That's gotta be an exaggeration."

"Like you just said, she's great at her job," he pauses, "my best spy doing desk work, that must have been a tough choice for her, I wonder why she did that," his tone is taunting, making Carol’s features turn to guilt, "I would hope that whoever pushed her to make that decision made up for it by spending lots of quality time with her," he suggests not so subtly.

"That's bullshit, if I had known we didn't need to hide from you—" Carol is interrupted by an alarm going off in Fury’s office.

"Hold that thought, I have to go. I will page her, but I'll stop at five attempts, if you don't hear from me, that's because I didn't hear from her."

He hangs up, and Carol is left alone once again.

A few days later, Carol arrives unannounced to New Asgard, she confidently makes her way to The King’s office and demands, "Take a walk with me."

Valkyrie’s eyes reluctantly travel away from her work to look at Carol, "You think you can just show up and ask for whatever you want? I am a King, I have responsibilities." It is clear in Valkyrie’s voice that she is still not on the best terms with her.

Carol completely disregards Val’s displeasure in favor of getting what she wants, "Like what?" she challenges.

Valkyrie looks around trying to produce a response and coming up empty, "…A walk then."

They take a stroll around the palace, mostly in silence, Val knows Carol just wanted an excuse to look for you in every corner of her Kingdom. After rounding the entire building, they return to The King's office.

"You're missing a ship," Carol points out as they enter.

"I know exactly where all my belongings are, do you?"

"She doesn't belong to me," The Captain murmurs.

Valkyrie swiftly sits on her chair and crosses her legs, "But you learned that the hard way."

"Can you just tell me where she is?"

"Why? So you can piss her off again?" Val bites.

"You have no idea what happened." Carol’s eyes bore into Valkyrie’s, but The King isn’t fazed by the action.

"I have no idea where she is," Valkyrie asserts smugly, "as your friend, let me just tell you, sometimes you can be really stupid. I say it with love," The Captain huffs at the hypocrisy, "and she's not here, at least not anymore."

Carol feels her heartbeat race, "But she was?"

"She stayed for a few days after I picked her up, didn't tell me where she went." The king's assistant knocks on the open door to announce their presence, Valkyrie nods to them and directs herself to Carol, "You should go."

Carol leaves the palace, but decides to stay in New Asgard for a bit, having nowhere else to go.

After a few hours of mindlessly roaming the town, Carol gets a call, "Fury, did you find her?" she answers hurriedly.

"There's been a strange object hovering Earth, can you check it out, please?"

"On it," she accepts, thinking it’ll be a good distraction. She flies to the coordinates and finds a spaceship.

Captain Marvel enters the familiar ship carefully, she points her lit up fist in a general forward direction as she scans every inch of the vessel with her eyes.

She feels someone jump down and land behind her, "What took you so long?" she immediately turns around startled, her mouth slightly agape with surprise, "Did anyone see you come in?" you mock, making her features flatten.

"Very funny," she deadpans, "how long have you been here?"

"Since I left New Asgard."

Her brows furl, "You’ve been here for four weeks?" you simply shrug in response, looking anywhere but at her, "Does Val know you have her ship?"

"Obviously, I wasn't about to steal from The King."

"How come nobody knows where you are?"

"I’m a trained spy, remember? And a damn good one," She walks in, putting her fist and guard down as she relaxes into her surroundings. "Fury called you." It's not a question.   "He thought you were a threat."

"I had to unveil the ship, I was getting bored up here."

"How was I supposed to know you were hiding somewhere outside the Earth's atmosphere?"

You eye her daringly, "You don't recognize the coordinates?" she stares at you in confusion, "Look down, Captain."

She peeks out a window and realizes what you mean, "It’s our home," she barely whispers.

You nod, "When was the last time you went home?"

Your words strike a nerve within her, "Don’t try to guilt trip me, what I do is important," she says between gritted teeth.

You didn't even mean it like that, but her aggressiveness has always been contagious, "Shut the fuck up, Danvers!"

"Hey!" she warns, "I get that you're angry, I get that I hurt you, but you cannot speak to me like that." She takes an offensive stance.

You cross your arms and give her a challenging look, "Why not?"

"Because we have a relationship based on respect."

Her response makes you loudly scoff in disbelief, "Respect? Since when? Since you visit your convenience husband more than you visit me? Since you spend 99% of your time buried in your work somewhere in the middle of space? Since you don't even have the decency to tell me you're coming to Earth to see some coworker's family?"

"They are my friends!" she objects.

"And I am your wife," you retaliate.

Carol drops the power trip, "You are?" she hesitates.   You feel all your confidence disappear, "I hardly think what I did counts as a real divorce."

"But, you want one?" Her voice only grows smaller.

"I don't know, it's not like I wanted to leave you."

She can’t believe she used this reunion to start a fight with you again, "I’m sorry, I don't know what's been happening to me." She gently hugs herself.

"You bit off more than you could chew." You follow her example and compose yourself, your gaze fixated on a wall.

"I promise to be better, what if we don't have to sneak around anymore, what if we could just be together in public? Would that make a difference?"

You respond by giving her a silent look, pleading with her to not toy with your heart anymore.

She approaches you and tries to hold your hand, "Angel."

"What are you doing?" You immediately back away from her touch.

She stops her movements, "I thought that's where this was going."

"It certainly is not."

She hides her face in her palms in shame, "I’m sorry, I’m just gonna go, it's fine, we're fine—"

"We're not fine," you interrupt.

"Right, whatever, bye." She exits with no destination in mind and simply remains floating in space at the mercy of the stars.

Carol has never felt like such a failure before, not when she harshly yelled at Kamala prior to being properly introduced, nor when she couldn't reach Monica, resulting in her being stuck in another universe. Even when she fails, she always knows exactly what she needs to do to fix everything, except for this, except for you.

You decide to turn your brain off and get some sleep, you think you might have to return Valkyrie's ship after this fiasco, but that's a problem for tomorrow.

A while later, Carol’s comms ring, and she picks up out of habit, still zoned out.

"Carol—" a small, quivering voice calls out through the device, followed by heavy pants, it sounds completely terrified.

Carol's eyes shoot open, "Kamala?"

A loud knock on the door wakes you, "Please, open up!"

"Carol?" You murmur under your breath as you get up. Her knocks only get louder and more desperate as you make your way to let her in, "It's four in the morning," you croak, rubbing your eyes.

She quickly enters, "If you choose to live in space you don't get to work in a time zone." It is only once you close the door that you realize she is carrying an unconscious body.

"Tell me you sang her to sleep," you hope, already dreading the scene that’s about to unfold, Carol only stares at you impatiently.   "There's a medical room in the back." You guide her to the room, and she lays Kamala on the bed. You immediately take charge of the situation.

You were always the one patching Carol up after rough missions, and she felt some guilt every time she was unable to return the favor, "What the hell happened to her?" you ask.

"I don't know." Her tone is somewhat apologetic.

You get to work on the girl to the best of your ability. Her injuries, although nonlethal, are enough to give you goosebumps, they seem to have been caused by a weapon, but not any human weapon that you know of. You doubt Ms Marvel was just hanging out in the streets past midnight when an emergency alien attack took place, which leaves you with a single theory, this was a planned mission that went horribly wrong.

"I think she should wake up on her own, I just have to clean her up," you tell Carol, gesturing towards the numerous bruises and cuts on Kamala's body. She chooses to wait outside to not obstruct your work with her pacing.

"Why didn't you go to the Avengers?" you question Carol once you come out of the room, wiping some blood off your hands with a rag.

She halts her movement, but doesn’t make eye contact, "It seemed easier—faster to just keep going up," she couldn't think of anyone else who could help her in the moment, "her mother is going to kill me."

"No more dinner with the Khans for you," you fake a pout, when you see she's genuinely distressed, you clear your throat and straighten your tone, "is this your fault?"

She shakes her head, "It was already too late when I arrived."

"If they didn't call you, then it's not on you," you reassure her. It is only now that you actually take a good look at Carol, her eyes are red, her skin pale, and her back is hunching, "Have you slept? Or eaten? Or sat down in the past month?" There is genuine worry in your words.

She silently stares at you for a moment and mutters, "What does it matter."

"I'll take that as a 'no.'"

"I’m invulnerable." She tries to stand up tall with the little energy she has.

"Which means you can't die, not that you can go on living like…that."

"I’m doing fine," she argues, but you know better than to believe her.

"You're on the verge of tears, this close to collapsing," you gesture with your fingers, "but you are much too stubborn to do anything about it." Your voice remains velvety soft, you can read her like an open book, and she doesn't like that.

"You were always so good at reminding me to take care of my human side."

"You're all human, down to the fuck ups," the small smile that formed on her face flattens, "sit down," Carol looks toward the medical room tentatively, "she's gonna take her time, sit down," you repeat gently.

She obliges, "Are we gonna pretend you didn't just tell me off earlier?"

"We don't have to, but you can't leave now, so there's no point in being hostile." She nods gratefully.

You offer her a cup of tea and a snack, and invite her to take a warm shower, "If you wanna go through the closet, Val has a good selection of sweaters."

You didn’t even realize you fell asleep again, until a beeping sound wakes you up. You open your eyes to see it's Carol's comms, which prompts you to search for her from your spot on the couch. As you focus further, you hear her voice coming from the med room talking with Kamala, and a subtle smile tugs at your lips.

You're about to ignore the sound and go back to sleep, when a thought occurs to you, nobody calls Captain Marvel just to chat, your sense of duty insists you pick up, "Hello?"

The Avengers director recognizes your voice immediately, "Where’s Danvers?"

"Fury?" You panic, he can't know Carol and you are together.

"Is she with you?" he presses, making your palms sweat.

"I, uh, um—"

"I know about you two, you can calm down."

His words make you freeze in place, "You do?"

"Yes, she's not your boss, it's fine." He glosses over it like it’s nothing as he doesn’t have time for this right now. You find such information difficult to process, but you try to leave the implications for later.

"Okay, why are you calling?"

"Do you know where Kamala is?"

You had momentarily forgotten about your impromptu visitor, "Yes."

"Where?" he demands.

"What’s it to you?" you sass him, deciding to be uncooperative given the circumstances that brought the girl to you in the first place.

"She works for me."

"That’s what I thought, but then, it makes no sense how you assigned her a middle of the night mission without any intention to send backup."

"She wasn't alone, she had Bishop!" he argues.

You feel your body’s temperature rise, "Oh, she had Bishop? Another rookie? And where is your archer now?"

Fury remains calm in the face of your anger, "Right here, too shaken up to actually tell me anything that happened."

"Good news for you, if Kamala's mom doesn't have your head on a stick by morning, Belova definitely will," you warn him, "better sleep with your eye open. Kamala is in good hands, I'll send her your way once I decide she's ready." You aggressively end the call.

Carol comes out of the medical room right as you're setting her comms down, "Who was that?" she asks.

"Fury, he wanted to know where Kamala is, but I’m not telling him." Your jaw is stiff with residual rage.

"Why?"

"He put her in danger, I don't trust him with her." You pull both of your legs up on the couch and cross them.

"But he’s your boss," Carol objects, making sure to maintain a gentle tone so as to not anger you further.

"Yeah, and apparently you aren’t, he knows about us." She meets your gaze and gives you a subtle nod.

Your response comes out louder than you expected, "You knew?"

She breaks eye contact, "It’s recent, I asked him about you."

"So what? We never needed to keep it a secret?"

She kneels on the floor in front of you, "That’s what I've been trying to tell you, we don't need to hide anymore."

"You had many opportunities to hide with me, but you always chose to hide from me." Your voice cracks as you feel your skin cool down.

"You should have said no, you should have pushed back," you search for the meaning of her words in her eyes, "when I asked you to quit your job," she clarifies, "I had no right to do that."

You sigh deeply before responding, "The moment you brought it up I decided I would, because I worry the exact same way every time you go on a mission, I figured it would be better if only one of us had to go through that."

Carol’s eyes travel to the ground, "So, are you gonna get back now that we…?"

"I haven't really thought about it," you confess, "about not being with you anymore."

A few hours later, Kamala calls for Carol, and you go check on her. She looks at you as you enter the room with what you can only describe as disappointment.

"I forced Carol to take a nap, so I’m gonna be looking after you for now," you feel the need to explain, she gives you a light nod and a smile, "how are you feeling?"

"Like an alien used my body to mop the floor." Her smile doesn’t go away.

You chuckle at her words, walking fully into the room and closing the door behind you, "I know what that's like, you're doing great, though."

"I didn't know you were a doctor."

"I’m not," you shrug.

"Carol said you're really good at patching people up."

"With Captain Marvel as your partner, you kinda have to get good at it." You inspect Kamala's bandages, they're sloppy, barely hanging on.

"Did she do these?" you ask rhetorically,

"She means well."

"I really should have checked on you sooner, I'm sorry." You get to work changing them all out for fresh ones.

"Are you guys done for good?" she blurts out as you wrap up her arm, making you shoot her a stern look, "Sorry, it's the painkillers," she quickly apologizes.

"I really don't know." You don't know the answer and you don't know if you wanna talk to a kid about it. You continue to patch her up as an awkward silence takes over.

When you’re almost done, she speaks again, "Can I tell you something?"

Her timid tone makes you worry, "Sure."

"After my first unintentional mission with Carol, Fury asked her to take me in for a few months to train me," her eyes fixate on her lap, "I lived on her ship, and we went on lots of missions together. Once a month, she would make a point to bring me back to Earth, so I could be home and see my family, I thought maybe she became exhausted of having a teenager in her home all the time, so she would use that break to rest, but I think she actually used that time to spend with you."

You nod while listening to her, you knew about this already.

"Eventually, I joined the Young Avengers and moved into the compound, I would constantly ask Fury to let me visit Carol, and I guess he found it cute, so he would help me show up unannounced in her ship, I thought I was doing a good thing, I thought she must get lonely…"

You did not know about that, your mind starts racing.

"What I’m trying to say is, I think Carol stopped spending time with you for fear I might show up at an inconvenient time," your features change abruptly into something she can't quite recognize, she starts to ramble, unable to stop herself, "I’m really sorry, I didn't know, I was just trying to be a good friend. On mother's day, I had to practically beg her so she would accept my invitation, please don't be angry." Her eyes meet yours again and she looks so scared for her life.

You cover your mouth with both hands to avoid saying anything impulsive and take a few deep breaths as you collect your thoughts, your delay only making Kamala grow more nervous.

"Thank you for telling me," you hesitate, carefully measuring your every word, "you couldn't have known, of course I’m not mad at you," your heavy breathing and your nails digging into your palms exposing your real feelings, "I’m gonna bring you lunch."

She mouths, "Okay," trying to calm herself down, and you exit the scene as fast as your feet allow you. When you come back, she's dozed off again.

Carol comes out of the bedroom after her much needed nap, you’re sitting on the couch and don’t bother greeting her before demanding, "I spoke to Kamala, is it true?" Carol becomes instantly alert, "You stopped letting me come visit you for fear of her showing up?"

"Yes," she simply concedes.

"You never said anything."

"I didn't want to seem ungrateful, and she hangs onto my every word, I felt like I had a responsibility towards her."

"And, when I confronted you?"

"She was right there, I couldn’t." To both of your surprise, this conversation plays out a lot more civilized than you expected, given the topic.

"What about earlier?"

Carol exhales heavily, "She's just a kid, she wanted to spend time with me, I don't think she should be blamed for that."

"Hold on," you stand up, the gears in your brain turning, she's confused but decides to let you go through your process, "Fury was the one helping Kamala in and out of your ship, right?" you continue.

"Uh, yeah."

"And he knew about us all along?" Carol nods, trying to catch up with your train of thought, "He also knew when I was with you because I wasn't at work."

She takes a few steps closer to you, "What’s your point?"

"There is no way Kamala and I would have run into each other unless he wanted us to, and we never did." The puzzle pieces finally fall into place.

Carol flares up, "That son of a bitch!"

"Calm down, Captain Marvel."

"He was messing with me, on purpose." Her voice goes up an octave.

You have inadvertently unleashed a monster with your plausible deductions, "You don't know that, I’m sure he has better things to do."

"Like sending his teenagers on a midnight run to get their asses kicked?"

"Okay, that wasn't his brightest moment, but still."

"Who’s side are you on?" Carol’s powers only become more aggressive.

"I’m on the side of 'this is Valkyrie's ship,' and if you throw a fire tantrum I’m gonna be the one paying for it." You set your foot down on the very real implications of her behavior.

In an instant, you both snap your neck in the direction of Carol’s comms that still rest on the couch, you reach for the device, and she slaps your wrist out of the way, you grab her arm with your other hand, and she lights it up so you immediately let go, "That's cheating!" you yell, making her laugh. Taking advantage of her distraction, you kick her arm sending the device flying into the air and catching it behind you, stuffing it in your back pocket.   Carol follows your movement with her eyes and stares at your ass for a bit afterwards. A month ago she would have reached for the device without a second thought, but today, she wouldn't dare, still, that doesn't stop her from being a tease and biting her lip at the sight.

"Perv," you snark, knowing exactly what she’s doing.

She cocks a grin, "When you have something for so long and then lose it all of a sudden, you're bound to miss it, I’m all human, after all," she uses your own words to taunt you, "come one, give me a little spin."

You give her a death stare instead, "Are you sure you want those to be your last words?"

"Sorry." She feigns remorse, her grin still plastered on.

You turn around and walk to the kitchen with a huff, knowing you’re giving her what she wants. In times like these, it's nice to be appreciated. Her smirk turns into genuine delight, underneath her depraved ruse, she's happy to know you're still willing to play along with her.

You start slicing some veggies, much to her confusion, "I thought Kamala already ate?"

"It's for us, you dumbass."

"Oh," she's pleased, 'us,' sounds so sweet coming from your lips, "let me help you," she offers, and it’s now your turn to smile as you observe her every move.

You fall into a good rhythm cooking together until the ship’s door opens, triggering you both into combat mode, Carol's fists light up, and you grab the biggest knife you can find in a vice grip.

King Valkyrie waltzes into her ship, making you exhale in relief and put your weapon down.

"Val?" Carol calls to get her attention, Valkyrie turns in your direction, and you can immediately tell she’s pissed.

"I need my ship back," she orders.

"You promised you weren't gonna track me," you protest in return.

"And I didn't for a whole month," Val interjects, "that’s how good a friend I am, but your boss is on my ass about getting you back home, something about a double assassination attempt," she explains as she closes the door.

"A what?" Carol utters.

"Don’t worry about it," you mumble, knowing what Val is referring to.

"And I could really live with not having to deal with your shit for once," The King continues with a weak snark.

Carol can’t help but tease her, "Since when do you let Fury push you around?"

"You see my face?" Val asks rhetorically, "Do I look amused?" She is not in the mood to be messed with.

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching their exchange, "Do you wanna—?" you gesture for Carol to continue working in the kitchen and guide Val to walk further into the vessel, "Double assassination? That's a bit much."

"He may have been exaggerating," Val shrugs.   "If it were up to me, we would be out of here in no time, but we have an extra passenger." You open the door to the medical room to reveal a sleeping Kamala.

"Shit! What did you do to her?" Valkyrie exclaims.

"I saved her life," you hush with pride.

Val lowers her voice to match yours, "She looks awful."

"You should have seen her when she arrived."

"Poor thing," Valkyrie slowly closes the door so her shock doesn't wake Kamala up, "so, are you two working together for little Marv's sake?"

"Yeah, Carol seems convinced that everything is Fury's fault."

"This?" Val points to Kamala’s door alarmed.

"Well, yes, but also with us," you hesitate.

"How so?"

_____

Carol, Valkyrie, and you are sitting at the table eating together, Val agreed to have a taste after you reassured her you did most of the cooking.

"Explain it to me again," The King asks, still unable to grasp Carol’s reasoning.

"Fury has been letting Kamala into my ship at random times so I grow paranoid of sneaking around with my wife."

"That makes no sense, did you talk to him about it?" Valkyrie responds, prompting Carol to shoot you an angry look.

"I took her comms," you tell Valkyrie, "she’s so livid, there is no way for that conversation to end well, regardless of his answer." Val hadn't noticed Carol's temper, she's good at concealing it, but she can't keep anything hidden from you, you know her much too well.

Your meal is interrupted by a beeping sound coming from Valkyrie’s pocket, "Speak of the devil." She silently excuses herself as she gets up to answer, walking towards the bedroom for some privacy, "What do you want, Nicholas?" despite your efforts, you can only hear half of the conversation, "Yes I am here."

Carol and you follow Val with your eyes until she's out of sight and you can no longer hear her voice.

"We can't leave until Kamala gets better," Carol almost commands you.

"I know that."

"We’re gonna need to stall." Her tone turns suggestive.

A devilish smirk forms on your face, "You got it, Captain." A rush of excitement takes over your body, it almost feels like old times, plotting and sneaking around.

With a loud swing of the door, Val comes back out and announces, "Alright, that's settled, I’m bringing you all home and then taking my ship with me."

Carol leans in to whisper in your ear without taking her eyes off Valkyrie, "Distract her, I have an idea."

You stand and get really close to Valkyrie to take her undivided attention, "But, what about Kamala?" As soon as you speak, Carol stealthily makes her way to the ship's engine.

"I am awfully sorry, but I really don't have time for this, her parents will have to forgive me," Val responds with no real remorse.

"What would Thor think about your decision?" You try to provoke her.

Val scoffs, "Do not bring the beefcake into this."

"So, you're really just gonna let Fury tell you what to do?"

"Whatever allows me to be back home and out of this mess the fastest."

"You’re growing soft, King," you mock.

"You’ll get old one day, too."

"I bet, how old are you this year? Five thousand and three?" Valkyrie begins to make her way to the control panel when Carol comes back up, panting.

"Oh, hey, you're still here?" Carol loudly asks, Val eyes her with suspicion as she keeps walking, "I was just making sure that your ship was all set to return home, turns out we're really low on gas, won't even make it halfway." She fights to catch her breath.

Valkyrie stops with a huff and turns to stare at you both, she's not stupid, "Look at you two conspiring assholes, almost made me forget you're in the middle of filing for divorce." Carol and you look at each other and smile.

"I’m sorry, Val, but we can't go back yet," you state in the firmest tone you can manage.

Valkyrie crosses her arms and sucks on her teeth as she realizes you’ve outplayed her, "Fine, do whatever you want, but I’m not dealing with this anymore," she takes her comms and gives them to you to add to your now growing collection of other people's devices, "I need a drink and a long bubble bath, do not even think about disturbing me." She takes a brand new bottle of Scotch from the kitchen and enters the bathroom.

Carol hadn't felt this good in a long time, the rush of pulling a half thought out plan followed by the satisfaction of it working out just right, with the added bonus that she got to do it by your side, "Good job," she congratulates you.

"Likewise." You have that smile on your face, the one that made Carol fall for you all those years ago, the one she has missed so dearly, not just in the past month, but long before that.

You go back to finishing your lunch in a somewhat comfortable silence. After a moment, Carol speaks, "It wasn't all about Kamala visiting at random," you look at her with a frown, "every time I saw you, I couldn't shake the fear that it might be the last."

"And not seeing me at all was a better choice?" you retort.

"Everyone else could come and go, but I could never deal with losing you, I don't know what I was thinking, I made you a vow and I couldn't keep it, I feel like such a failure." There is something in her eyes that you can’t fully identify, woe, perhaps.

"Why were you so adamant about blaming Fury for this?" You find some respite in knowing that, deep down, she didn’t actually believe it to be true.

"It was easier that way, I didn't have to admit that I’m scared that way," you give her a flat hum in response, "I’m really sorry, I don't expect you to forgive me, but please know that I am very, truly sorry, it's all my fault and I’m owning up to it, as soon as Kamala is better we can go home, and you don't have to see me ever again, if that's what you want."

It would break her heart if you said you didn’t want to see her anymore, fortunately, or not, you refrain from responding and finish the rest of your meal quietly contemplating her every word.

There is so much you wanna say, so many questions you want to ask her, but, would it even change anything?

As much as you want to lift her chin up and reassure her that you can work things out and everything is going to be okay, as much as wish, and hope, this isn’t something you can do on your own, you learned that the hard way, and it hit you like an alien mopping the floor with your body.

Despite your aching chest, you can’t just give her what she wants, it would come at too high a price from you, and you know you deserve better than that.

A few days later, you check on Kamala and conclude that she is stable enough to sustain the trip back. You come out of the room to an awaiting Carol, "I think she's ready to go home," she nods in response, "what did you do with the fuel? Because we're gonna need it about now." With Valkyrie having politely locked herself up in the bedroom since the night she arrived, it’s been on you to take charge once again.

Carol begins to think of all her options, "I’ll figure something out, don't worry about it."

"I worry about a lot of things when it comes to you." You tentatively walk closer to her on the couch.

She looks up at you with curiosity, "Like what?"

"Like if you're eating the right amount, or working too hard, or whether I'll ever be able to trust you again," you mumble the last part.

"I said I’m sorry, what more can I do?" she sighs.

"'Sorry' is not enough, Carol," you no longer have the energy to yell at each other, "what if Dar-Benn had said sorry, would that have made it all okay?"

Her features turn stern as she objects, "She tried to destroy every place I call home."

You look at her with sadness in your eyes, "Sometimes, I feel like that's exactly what you're doing to me." You slump on the other end of the couch and rub your temples.

"What if I took some time off?" she blurts out, making you snap your neck in her direction and you heartbeat race.

"What about your job?"

"I could ask Monica and Kamala to take over for a bit," she suggests nonchalantly.

"That doesn't sound right."

"I can talk to Val."

"She’s a King, she won't just take over because you asked." She seems too comfortable delegating the duties of the strongest Avenger.

"What about The Guardians?"

"The Guardians?" you repeat, "yeah, right."

She runs out of people she’s willing to sacrifice for you, so she gets a better idea, "Then, move into my ship with me!" Your brain stops working and you're unable to respond for an instant, "I don't hear a 'no,'" she insists.

"I didn't say 'yes'"

"What would it take?" you remain silent with a piercing gaze, "I’ll do anything, please." She turns her whole body to face you.

You feel very privileged to be seeing Captain Marvel begging, it makes you feel special knowing she's doing it just for you, so you give her a chance, "Soundproof your room."

"Done," she responds immediately.

"I wanna meet Yan," you continue.

Carol is taken aback with surprise, "Really?"

"He’s the most beautiful man in the universe."

That’s all it takes to convince her, "Okay, yeah, sure."

You worry your lip between your teeth and take much longer to speak this time, "I still want a divorce," you whisper, almost able to hear her heart breaking all over again, she nods sadly and her eyes travel to the ground.

Without any fuel left, Carol’s solution to get you back on Earth is to push the vessel from the outside herself.

You arrive safely to the Avengers compound and help Kamala into the med bay to let an actual doctor treat her for the rest of her recovery. Once you make sure Kamala is taken care of, and Carol has refueled Valkyrie’s ship, you get back in to make your way to New Asgard. All too quick for Fury to intercept.

As soon as you arrive to the Kingdom, Valkyrie exits her ship and all but kicks you out along with her, "I would love to say it was a pleasure, but it really wasn’t," she deadpans, retrieving her comms from you, much too exhausted to make her annoyance noticeable.

Carol and you both know she’s exaggerating, but you also know that you exhausted her trust, you’d better not need anything from her for the next three to five years.

It is only now that Carol realizes a flaw in your trajectory, as you take in her frown, you begin to work things out yourself,  "We’re stuck here," you say her thoughts out loud.

She hesitates slightly before responding, "There is one option…" It’s almost like a pre apology.

"Seriously?" You squint your eyes in dread, succumbing to your faith.

Carol picks you up bridal style and flies off. It only takes a few minutes for you to land on the front lawn of your shared home. She gently puts you down on the ground, and you step away from her, taking a moment to recompose yourself from the intimacy of being carried by your ex.

"Thanks," you say awkwardly, stretching your neck.

She gives you a tight lipped smile, "No problem," you both stand there in silence, unsure of how to act, "so, is this goodbye then?" she crosses her arms, bracing herself for your departure.

"No, I’m moving in with you," you state matter of factly, the confusion in her face is evident.

"What about the divorce?"

"Oh, yeah, we gotta do that." You had forgotten for a second, flying at Captain Marvel speeds always renders your mind hazy.

She retreats further into herself, lowering her gaze, "We can go first thing tomorrow."

You cradle her face with both hands, gently caressing her cheeks until her eyes meet yours, "I am giving you another chance to offer me that ring in the future, to help me trust you again."

Her eyes glimmer like the brightest stars, she turns her face to kiss one of your palms and leans into your touch, "I won't let you down this time, I promise."

@wolf79

[killerandhealerqueen]

When you get a comment on your elven war au saying that a character would not attack their own people to protect the people they are currently with like...do you not know how war works?  Sacrifices have to be made and sometimes a peaceful, non-violent method will not work.  Yes, I know that a prince would not want to attack his own people but he also knows that he cannot keep his hands clean if he wants to try and protect these people he’s grown to care about.  War is ugly and sometimes it makes people do things they don’t want to do

[grimalkinmessor]

Once more frustrated by people seeing Light's various moves as stupid because they're looking at it from a point of omniscience and not from the perspective of Light himself and the information he had access to :')

[lucreziaces]

no no but the insanity that is showing the narcissus (you can't kiss a reflection) scene between paolo and lucrezia which I'd argue is lucrezia seeing a reflection of her brother in paolo (because he'd taken care of the sforza problem at least temporarily) back to back with cesare convincing a hesitant ursula to sleep with him by telling her she might have both his heart and body at her mercy when he really (perhaps unconsciously) means she's a surrogate for lucrezia and then cutting to lucrezia with her skirts pulled up under paolo asking if a good thing can come from a bad thing and then flipping him over, so it ends with her on top and once again it cuts back to cesare and ursula, also having sex with cesare in the dominate position. LIKE REFLECTIONS OF EACH OTHER.

[ohmigoshiloveu]

So like, in VTM the story of Cain and Able is REALLY important, like Cain became the first vampire as punishment for killing Able, and Kindred can also be referred to as Cainites.

Allusions to Cain and Able in the Suckening aren’t particularly forthcoming, but we do have two brothers, with one who’s being postured as innocent and beloved and the other one is violent and considering war crimes. All I’m saying is that Condi was onto some good shit with trying to make Emizel resent Shilo.

[the-almighty-bling]

No pls col I know u wanna tell us it doesn’t matter, but I REALLY WANNA KNOW WHO IS THE KHUN VAD REINCARNATE

[emdotcom]

*remembers what they did to Vanny* 500 FUCKING PIPEBOMB ATTACK.

[limitedanomalies]

People please don't be ridiculous about jokes and humor. If you are a grown-up you can distinguish a real life and fictional world. They are just characters and stories. So stop complaining and raging for nothing.