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oflosechesters · 4 years

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for anyone curious, the following meta and the elaboration below are in relation to this post. i posted this to another blog of mine, but i felt i should share it on my personal as well.

okay, i actually genuinely don’t wanna shut up about the significance of miracle because it’s possibly one of the most redeemable qualities of the spn finale. it’s actually really important, even if you don’t like the circumstances surrounding it.

at first i just sort of went off about it in some tags:

#this is the only good thing about that entire finale #it is the one thing i actually loved from a meta perspective in terms of dean's archetype #so i gotta have the puppy snuggles on the blog i'm so sorry #other than that this is largely a finale free blog lmao #i actually have a Lot of feelings about dean being given a dog #and naming the dog miracle #am i gonna end up writing meta about a dog? possibly #in broad strokes: dean has always been the archetype of a soldier #but never once has he been allowed to be a veteran #the dog very much is representative of that #it's very commonplace for veterans to have emotional support animals #dogs in particular #the way miracle launches into dean's arms after dean's just woken up is indicative to me that it's commonplace #likely after nightmares #which means that (for me) dean's PTSD is being subtly addressed #which means when i retcon the disaster of a finale for my portrayal miracle is absolutely staying #spn 15.20

but there’s so much more to it than that.

the thing about the dog, if we’re staying within the context of the canon, is that this is a dean who has lost everything (keep that wording in mind, because we’ll be coming back to it). the war is won, and he's come home, but the cost was high. we also know that dean has canonically suffered from PTSD since the end of s3, though it’s not always been explicitly addressed in the following seasons. regardless, it's an aspect of his character that is widely established and recognized.

much like in s4, and after the purgatory storyline in s8, dean’s PTSD is shown to manifest itself largely through substance abuse, anger management struggles resulting in bouts of extreme violence, and nightmares. it’s a thread throughout the narrative whether it’s consistently addressed or not. more importantly in terms of the dog: dean is never allowed to heal, because the war wages on.

by the series finale, the war is won, but the cost is castiel’s life. what does the dog have to do with castiel, you ask? more than you might first think. i don’t want to get too deep in the paint, so i’m going to focus primarily on 13.01, dean’s grief arc in early s13 in general, and some key aspects of s15.

returning to the concept of being left with a dean who has lost everything, i want to point out a choice of dialogue in 13.01. the following is said during a scene of mourning, after they’ve lost castiel, and dean is left to wrap his body for burial.

dean [voice breaking]: we’ve lost everything. and now you’re gonna bring him back. okay? you’re gonna bring back cas.

this scene is the beginning of a several episode long grief arc where dean is depicted classically as a mourning widower in terms of cinematography (viewed on bended knee from above, distant and distraught after the death scene itself at the end of s12), and is then shown to slip into apathetic suicidal tendencies. his substance abuse reaches such a low that he quite literally drinks himself to death, but death will not take him, despite his wishes. he rages at sam for being able to move on so easily, in 13.03, patience:

dean: and what about cas? sam: what about cas? dean: he manipulated him, he made him promises, said, “paradise on earth” and cas bought it. and you know what that got him? it got him dead! now you might be able to forget about that, but i can’t!

the grief arc firmly establishes castiel as being representative of dean winchester’s hope, and the will to live. this is reinforced throughout s13 – s15, as it is further mirrored in later episodes, such as in act 3 of 15.09, the trap, in which sam is shown alternate futures. in every future where dean has lost castiel, he is shown to have lost his hope, and his will to continue on.

dean: no, sam. it doesn't matter. sam: what are you saying? dean: what i've been trying to say for months. it's time... time to stand down. sam: you want to quit? what's happened to you, dean? ever since— dean: ever since what? we lost pretty much everyone we’ve ever cared about? ever since the mark made cas go crazy? ever since i had to bury him in a ma’lak box? ever since then?

these follow an old tradition within the writing of spn that can be pointed at as early as 5.04, the end (“cas, too?”): castiel is always singled out apart from the rest. castiel, an angel, who saw worth in dean when dean couldn’t see it in himself. an angel who became his best friend, and loved him when dean couldn’t love himself. castiel, who saved him the moment they met, and saved him in death, as seen in 15.18, despair. given everything preceding this, it’s evident that this is not a small loss for dean. when they lose cas, dean loses the will to go on.

in losing cas that final time, cas’ confession — his assertion that dean is full of love, not anger — finally seems to break through. when fighting the main antagonist of s15, he is called “the ultimate killer.” at one time, dean would’ve agreed with this. but after cas’ confession, he denies it, and firmly says, “that's not who i am.” because that’s not who cas fell in love with. point being: castiel’s sacrifice affects dean enormously.

at the end of all things, when dean crosses the threshold from soldier to veteran because the war is won, he has a dog and he names him miracle; which harkens back to a scene when dean indirectly referred to cas as ‘his miracle,’ because truly: who’s been performing miracles in dean’s life over the past 11 seasons? the name holds a heavy weight and bears a large significance in the face of his loss.

by the end of s15, we now have a dean that is allowed to rest, and in resting, he is allowed to begin to heal. and the thing that is representative of this crossing of the threshold from soldier to veteran is giving the veteran an emotional support dog. that dean names miracle. something that is saving him, day by day, even in small ways. it’s just not only important for dean's development and healing after finally making that transition, it’s also the lasting influence castiel still has, even in death. it’s absolutely heartbreaking, especially when one considers how many of dean’s nightmares, stemming from his PTSD, canonically revolve around losing castiel — as is shown in early s8 through the purgatory storyline; therefore it is not incongruous to assume similar nightmares would crop up after the events of 15.18. and we’re shown this.

the dog jumping into bed for cuddles after dean wakes up is just so telling. but the way dean wraps around the dog, clinging? it’s the most telling.

granted, there is every possibility that i am giving the show too much credit (as it’s been shown we, as fans, are wont to do). but the concept of death of the author was quite literally pushed into the narrative of s15, and i personally like to think that no matter what else happened in 15.20, certain things remain significant and have bearing on the story, even if unintentionally so. that’s sort of just always been spn’s way of doing things.

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sunflowerspectre · 3 years

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Hellfire and Ectoblasts

For @cleanlenins

Title: Hellfire and Ectoblasts Fandom: Danny Phantom x Lucifer Summary: The devil works hard, but Vladimir Masters works harder. When Vladimir Master dabbles in dealing favors to others to get his way - much easier than constantly possessing everyone - Lucifer Morningstar has a few choice words for the business tycoon. Rating: T for cursing (multiple uses of the F word, mentions of drug abuse) Final Word Count: 5005 Ft. Uncle/Redeemed Vlad AU

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Los Angeles is new territory, despite all the places Vladimir Masters has traveled. He has drunk martinis in the sands of Bahamas, made deals in Cancun, and has a passport larger than most politicians. He has even traveled further into the Ghost Zone than most of the fully ghosts there.

Yet the city of angels has always eluded him, or rather he eluded it. It never quite appealed to him, with the oddities and gaudy casinos. It felt almost beneath him and it has, honestly, never been on his priority list - at least, not until now.

Business is business and Vlad Masters will always go where business is; even if it is in a city like Los Angeles. Even if it is with an admittedly annoying sixteen year old teenager for a long extended amount of time.

Honestly, what was he thinking when he wanted Daniel as a son? He should have gone after Jasmine, he begrudges. At least she knew when to be quiet.

“Are we there yet?”

Vlad feels his eyebrow twitch, a vein throbbing in his neck. Daniel Fenton has the nerve to look at him with large innocent, doe eyes as if that is not the hundredth time he has asked that question in the past hour.

His somewhat nephew had jumped on the chance to go to LA with him; he would have been more suspicious of Daniel’s intention if not for the fact that the space shuttle endeavor will be within one quick bus ride from their hotel. As challenging, and even powerful, as Daniel can be - he is very much an open book that has been quite easy to read.

Danny opens his mouth, as if to ask that infuriating question again, but is stopped short by a small ecto blast. The ectoplasm effectively sticks against his mouth and despite the way he claws it, it refuses to budge. He settles for crossing his arms in a huff with a narrow glare. He idly considers it for a moment before a middle finger raises in contempt.

“Curse at me all you want, Daniel, but I refuse to listen to that infernal question the entire trip.”

Danny’s body language makes it clear that he is mocking him. Vlad waits until his fit is over before removing the ecto blast. Danny, huffing about being cut-off, leans back into the seat of the private jet. When he glances out the window, catching glimpses of clouds, he can not help but think wistfully how much better it would be to be flying Airline Danny. Jets, private or otherwise, are too confining now that he knows what it feels like to touch clouds.

He bets that the skies of Los Angeles is beautiful up close. He absently wonders if he gets far away enough to the nearby desert if he will be able to get a good view of the stars. The Orion constellation, not to mention a few planets like Venus and even Saturn, should be more visible here than it would be in Amity Park. He wonders if he flies high enough if he can get a good picture with a smartphone.

“Why are you going to LA anyway? Don’t you have enough money that you don’t need to be blowing it at casinos? Or is that the whole point?”

He barely even spares Vlad a glance through the corner of his eyes, arms crossed lazily against his chest as his cheek presses against the cool glass of the window. While being with Vlad is not the worst thing in the world - at least not anymore - he can not help but wish he would’ve been able to bring Sam and Tucker along. He imagines that they would be thrilled to go somewhere that’s not the Nasty Burger. At the very least, they would be better conversationalists.

Well, I guess it’s at least fun to mess with him, Danny thinks wistfully, a more devious smile on his face. If anything, it is a great way to pass the time. Messing with Vlad has always been a treasure, but now with little repercussions, at least nothing that compares to the way he used to threaten to kill his dad, it is like the entire world is his oyster.

“You can never have enough money, young badger.”

Danny coughs something into his elbow that sounds suspiciously like ‘ eat the rich’. His eyes watch Vlad carefully with feign innocence, as if he never said anything at all. His elbow hides the large shit-eating grin threatening to break on his face.

Vlad makes a point to ignore the comment, continuing easily, “Since our - my -”

He struggles to find the right word, fumbling a bit with a strained look on his face. Mentions of the past have always been hard to bring up when he is, honestly, doing his best to move forward from it. He feels strained at the mere mention of how he behaved beforehand, somewhat even embarrassed by the things he tried to pull. He cannot be thankful enough that the Fentons, including even Daniel, have even given him this second chance. The young badger’s trust is not an easy thing to earn.

“ Your redemption arc,” Danny offers somewhat helpfully.

While not fond of the term, Vlad has to admit that he cannot think of a better phrase.

“-Yes.”

He accepts the term Danny offers with clenched teeth, “-and as such, possession has become quite unfavorable . I have taken up doing business the old-fashioned way.”

Danny turns to face him. His innocently blinking eyes do not fool anyone with the gleam of mischief shining brightly in them.

“-Legal suits and proper paperwork?”

Vlad snaps at him suddenly, a vein throbbing in his forehead as he regrets taking off the ecto-gag.

“Oh will you - stop that?”

The outburst sends Danny reeling into a laughing fit, clenching his sides tightly.

__________________________________

Danny’s smartass comments cost him; though, in his opinion, it was absolutely worth it. To his dismay, Vlad drags him along through the city of angels instead of leaving him at the hotel. He claimed he needed to meet a new potential business partner. He gave an entire speech of how it would be good for him to learn how the business world works, but Danny can only recall maybe the first few sentences of said speech. Vlad even went as far as stuffing Danny into the most uncomfortable expensive clothes that he could find. Honestly, couldn’t the man at least get comfy expensive clothes? Gucci makes sweat suits. He makes a mental note to send some links to Gucci sweat suits to Vlad later.

Comfy or not, he still would have preferred to have just headed straight to the space shuttle endeavor. At least then, he would be in ghost form most of the time anyway. It would have been a ten - maybe fifteen - minute flight himself from their hotel room; he even promised Vlad that he would stay invisible the whole time and not touch anything he was not supposed to. A promise that was hard to give since oh man did he want to touch the shuttle just to say he touched something that was in space. He even begged his uncle. Slipped in a few mentions of how his mom would be so happy if he was able to go and get pictures.

He almost got him too, but alas, his efforts were in vain. Instead, he is stuck in a limo. It is not a bad thing in and of itself, but even a luxurious car feels suffocating when you want to be somewhere else.

He eyes the protesters lining up on certain streets. Sam would have loved it here. He keeps track of all of the ‘trendy’ vegan cafes he spots along the way for future reference; he even spots a few goth-centric stores. He snaps a few pictures, sending them over their group chat. He follows them up with pictures of pictures of every BBQ stand he finds for Tucker’s sake.

Sam: Still with the ex-villain?

Danny snorts, scooting away from Vlad as much as he could before snapping a picture of his unsuspecting ex-arch nemesis. Vlad visibly sighs, the exhaustion showing on his face as he does not even bother to look at Danny anymore.

Tucker: Someone looks like he’s having a great time

Danny: He’s with me, of course he’s having a great time. I’m a joy to be around. An absolute blast.

Tucker: Isn’t every party you’ve gone to nowadays a bit - dead?

Danny audibly groans at the bad attempt at puns, sending a quick message of how puns are his thing; it’s his whole shtick. But like all group chats do, the conversation grows dead pretty fast.

He is already growing bored again after having sent all the memes he could find ( and how dare they not laugh react at them) . He settles for rolling the window up and down obsessively, occasionally even sticking his head through it. When that adrenaline rush is short-lived, he ends up leaning against the door while obnoxiously clicking the window button repeatedly until Vlad is forced to ask the limo driver to put on the child lock. He considers the idea of just phasing his head through the window, but as weird as LA is, he thinks even that would be a stretch.

He could just phase away entirely. After all, the limo is not ghost proof. Vlad even got rid of most of his more outrageous contraptions and traps so he knows that the seat will not suddenly grow restraints if he tries to get up from it. He wonders if the oddity shop that they passed is still open? He did promise everyone souvenirs and the weirder the better (as is the whole point with souvenirs).

But he also promised his mom that he would get along.

Besides, Vlad said he would pay for lunch when they are done and they passed the most delicious looking burger place.

After what feels like forever, watching all the places he wants to go but can’t right now like a sad puppy begging for the window to be let down, the limo finally pulls up in front of a nightclub. LUX. Danny raises a brow. He may not be the smartest out of his family, but dead languages are his specialty. He glances to Vlad, wondering if he should be more concerned about his pseudo-uncle doing business here. Any nightclub named after light that looks this shady can not be good.

He is also pretty sure that he just saw a drug deal around the corner and some of the people in line already look under the influence of something .

“Am I even allowed here,” Danny questions, pausing a moment to count on his fingers, as they exit the limo. “I’m only like - sixteen? I am a literal child. ”

Vlad continues walking as if he does not hear Danny’s voice grating on behind him. Somehow, the teenager has a voice that seems to stick out like a sore thumb against the boom of the music coming out from the club’s doors.

“You are not a child, Daniel,” Vlad finally acknowledges.

“Uh the law would disagree, sir,” Danny waves a finger after him, “I am a minor.”

The sun is already starting to set, which means the club is steadily filling up; a majority of people are still out in long lines outside of the club’s door. He glances at them briefly, if in a bit of curiosity at the club wear. He blushes wildly at some of the more out-there club wear and focuses quickly on the fact that Vlad is steadily getting ahead of him.

“We are not here for drinking, Daniel,” Vlad’s voice comes out a bit exasperated as he fixes his tie. He eyes the people in line with a bit of disdain, but otherwise ignores them.

Vlad continues on past the lines, not acknowledging the way that some of them call after him. He keeps his hands in his pockets as he gets closer to the crowd; Danny realizes that it likely has something to do with the high possibility of getting pick-pocketed. After all, Vlad does not exactly blend in, but neither does Danny in the suit that Vlad forced him in.

Danny is close in tow as they head straight for the bouncer at the door.

If Vlad was not so used to the way that Maddie could ( has and absolutely will) beat him, he would have been more surprised at the woman at the club’s door. The choice being a bit abnormal in the job. Her intimidating presence is enough to make most of the more pushy people at the front second-guess themselves. A few of the people who dare to test the boundary of the velvet rope quickly change their mind as she just glances at them. Danny’s first thought is how much Sam would like the bouncer. The entire leather outfit is just something that feels like she would like, compared with how tough the woman seems to be. If the woman didn’t scare him so much, he would have tried to take a picture.

His second thought, however, is how off she feels. The closer he gets to her, the more his core vibrates deeply in his chest. As if it is trying to transform and get him out of there, like an animal’s instincts to a predator. Run. RUN. RUN. He digs his heels into the ground and refuses to listen to his gut. He refuses to let his gut determine what he thinks about someone, or how he acts on them. He learned the hard way to control that impulse.

Besides, she does not seem that dangerous - he thinks? He glances to the knives strapped to her thigh and the mean look in her eyes. Mostly. But his ghost sense has never gone off. That means that possession is off the table - so is her being a ghost. But he has never felt his core vibrate this way, in such a paralyzing instinctual fear. The only thing that comes close is when he faced Pariah.

Danny is sure that Vlad notices it too, he is way too smart not to. Vlad’s expressionless face does not give a single thing away, staring straight on even as the woman looks him over closely, a sneer on her face. Something about the way she bares her teeth feels more like a threat, as if she is prepared to rip your throat out herself at any given moment. The worst part is that it feels like that is something she is very much capable of doing. She gets startlingly close to Vlad’s face, sniffing him. He refuses to flinch and let this woman know how much she intimidates him.

He seems to pass whatever test she was giving him. Finally she just snorts, taking the card that he offers her. Danny only catches a glimpse of the red and gold lining against black with some sort of name written on it. He barely sees the flash of some sort of horned symbol on the edge. Just who is Vlad doing business with anyway?

Whatever the card is, it works. She backs off, crossing her arms against her chest as she moves out of the way of the door to let them through. The glare she gives some of the people at the front of the line scares them out of even thinking about shoving their way in through the open door.

Danny sticks close to Vlad’s side this time, feeling the urge to get as far away as he can from the woman. He is not sure if she will stop him. He would love to get out of this situation with Vlad, but he would hate that it meant staying anywhere near the woman. The wild beating of his core is getting worse and it feels like he can’t breath.

He is unsure if he can handle being around her much longer with his core acting up like this. He feels like he is this close to a heart attack.

“You smell weird, but whatever. He’s inside.”

He smells weird, Danny wonders how she can smell anything especially when all he can smell is all the people around them not wearing deodorant. He tries his best to brush it off as some sort of intimidating tactic. But when Danny passes by the woman, she leans forward, visibly sniffing him as well.

“Sorry it’s my - uh - aftershave,” Danny’s panicked lie confuses even him as he just waves at the woman as he enters the club, finally taking a deep breath in as the door shuts behind him.

Still thoroughly weirded out by whatever that was, something that does not improve when he’s suddenly surrounded by drunks and loud blaring music, he sticks abnormally close to Vlad. The people surrounding them are too drunk to notice when he phases through the elbows that are just too close to him or the shoulders that almost bump into him. Vlad looks back at him briefly, a ghost of a smile on his face, before he turns attention to the crowd.

“Whatcha looking for? The bar? Drugs? A confessional?” Danny asks as they finally reach a section that gives them some elbow room. He brushes off imaginary dirt, and not so imaginary something , off of his shoulders.

“My business partner,” Vlad answers curtly, eyes still scanning the crowd. He knows what he’s looking for, despite not having met the man before.

When Lucifer Morningstar reached out to him, insisting that they meet in person to discuss business, Vlad almost brushed him off. However, a combination of the man’s obsession with the devil and the fact that Lucifer Morningstar’s very identity doesn’t go back any further than a few years intrigued him. How does a man who legally has only been around for a few years get so ahead in the business world? More importantly, who is he really?

“What does he look like, maybe I can help.” Danny offers, looking over the crowd as if he would suddenly be able to who they are looking for.

“It is our first business meeting, I’m afraid, but if he looks anything like his photos, you can’t miss him.”

That gets Danny’s attention. He swerves suddenly on Vlad, jutting his hands out to form a T, his fingers press against his palm, “Whoa, time out! You brought me to a business meeting with someone you never met before? How do you even know the guy’s like, I don’t know, a ghost hunter?”

“You're a paranoid teenager, young badger.” Vlad’s voice is dry with a lack of amusement, “I’ll have you know that I reach all my partners quite well. Lucifer Morningstar is nothing more than a lunatic, however he is quite popular with our mutual partners.”

“ Lucifer,” Danny harshly whispers, his voice only half-way kidding, “Don’t tell me you actually made a deal with the devil?”

Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him if Vlad did - if such a thing is really possible - but it would put a strain on their now alliance. Vlad’s about to retort, likely something along the lines of you’re being ridiculous Daniel, but he gets cut off prematurely by another voice.

“Well not yet, but let’s see if that changes today, shall we?”

A particularly British voice gets their attention as a man in a well fitted suit, looking vastly more comfortable in it than Danny is, struts their way. Despite looking like every other business man he’s seen, the man doesn’t feel like the usual stuffy suit type. He feels dangerously charismatic, with an easy smile on his face and a magnetic pull that makes it difficult to turn their attention away from him. He has a few beautiful women, and at least one man, at his side. He whispers something that Danny wishes he didn’t hear, to each of them before they regretfully leave his side.

“You must be Vladimir Masters.” The tone of voice is not a compliment, coming off more mocking, “Look at you, a bit older than I expected, but ultimately age is never an issue. Provided you’re at least an adult.”

The sultry look that the apparent Lucifer Morningstar has as he looks Vlad up and down appreciatively reminds Danny too much of how Vlad used to look at his mom. He starts to feel sick to his stomach, gagging exaggeratingly in the background as he tries his best to ignore the way his core has returned to vibrating, thumping hard against his chest.

Whatever the woman at the door was, Lucifer Morningstar must be at least the same thing - or something close to it - to make his core react the same way. He should be more concerned over it, but he glances toward Vlad. He looks stony as ever, the only sign of discomfort being a vein beginning to throb on his neck. Ah, so he does notice.

He doesn’t seem surprised either. Danny wonders if this is some sort of test again, to see what he will do and how he will react. Especially in front of an unknown factor. Shit. Danny curses when he realizes that’s why Vlad brought him along in the first place and then curses again - more directed at Vlad himself this time - for Vlad being as cryptic and vague as Clockwork.

I just wanted to see the endeavor, Danny bemoans as the man ushers Vlad (and by extension, Danny) to a clear booth. Taking Vlad’s lead, Danny acts more confident this time around, trying his best to act like every inch of his being isn’t screaming to run.

“Drinks,” Lucifer offers, seeming comfortable in the booth with his arms stretched out wide against the edge of the seat across from Danny and Vlad. While Vlad accepts the offer, ordering a simple old fashion, Danny speaks up with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll have a coke on the rocks,” Danny orders, showing a lot of teeth in his grin as he gives finger guns, of all things. After a pause, he adds on, “Not shaken nor stirred, please.”

Vlad’s exasperated sigh is barely audible as he breathes out through his nose. At the very least, he should be glad that Danny is acting normal - as awkward and tiring as normal is.

“I must admit Mr. Morningstar, I was a bit surprised to receive your invitation,” Vlad speaks easily. He politely sips at his drink, but otherwise leaves it untouched, more focused on the conversation. He tries to not let his eye twitch when he hears Danny suck up his coke through a straw.

Lucifer looks at Danny in amusement, seemingly unoffended by the teenager’s manners (a small blessing). Unlike Vlad, Lucifer doesn’t shy away from his own drink, downing it easily. He orders a few more at one of the ladies passing by, followed by flirtatious compliments that make her giggle and once again, makes Danny wish that he couldn’t hear what was being said.

“Well how could I not invite a man such as yourself, Vladimir,” Lucifer’s voice is exaggerated, almost strained, “Or is it Vlad? Vladdy?”

Vlad does twitch at that and Lucifer grins, “Vladdy it is. Better than douchebag, I suppose.”

Danny snorts at the sudden word, laughing hard enough that he barely stops the coke from pouring out of his nose. He takes in a deep breath, wiping at his face with a cocktail napkin as his nose burns from the soda.

“I prefer to use the term fruit loop,” Danny speaks up helpfully.

Lucifer seems delighted at this information, his eyes lighting up in glee as Vlad visibly sinks into the seat.

“ Fruit loop,” Lucifer repeats gleefully, “Lacks a bit in curse words for my liking but fruit loop it is!”

“You can always say fucking fruit loop,” Danny offers as if he is still being helpful, the grin on his face more genuine, “Or fruit by the fucking loop?”

Lucifer’s laugh is infectious, his eyes gleaming as Danny joins him in laughter at Vlad’s expense. For a moment, the two continue back and forth before Vlad is forced to intervene; the vein is his neck is more noticeably throbbing at this point.

“Mr. Morningstar,” Vlad cuts in, his voice stern, “What exactly was the point of the invitation, if I may? I hope it wasn’t to just call me outrageous names.”

Lucifer nonchalantly waves off Vlad’s growing ire, “Oh no, I invited you over for much more than just that. Favors, you will find, are my specialty. One could say it’s my whole business. I grant favors and I do not take kindly to others who sneak up on my business and steal it away.”

There’s a flash of something in Lucifer’s eyes. Something dangerous. As brief as it is, it’s enough to make Danny’s core hum against his chest, his hand grips his knee tightly. His eyes flicker to Vlad and as much as the older man is trying to hide it, Danny can tell that he’s just as suddenly bothered by whatever that was.

“It’s the point of the matter, you know,” Lucifer continues, “Steal my business, shame on me, steal my shtick, shame on you.”

He downs another glass and grabs something off a platter as someone passes by. It looks suspiciously like a joint. He lights it up without a second thought; Danny tries his best to act like he doesn’t know what it is as Vlad eyes him through the corner of his eyes.

“Word is that you, Vladimir Masters, have been sneaking around granting favors to a chosen few. I don’t know how you grant said favors, I don’t particularly care. But I do wish you would stop.”

The dangerous aura that’s thick in the air is heavy, but the realization that Vlad has still been up to shady business is heavier. Danny slumps into the seat, leaning forward with a heavy sigh.

“So you have been up to shady shit,” Danny mumbles under his breath as he absently stirs the straw in what has to be his third glass of coke.

“If you don’t stop,” Lucifer continues, “I’m afraid I’ll have to make you stop. If Mazikeen does not get to you first.”

He gestures his thumb toward the woman that was outside the door; she hovers nearby as if she knows exactly what they’re talking about. The grin on her face is malicious, bordering on feral as she twirls a knife across her knuckles without breaking eye contact. That woman is intimidating, Danny swallows thickly, but grins wildly at Lucifer.

“Oh he’ll stop,” Danny reassures the man before Vlad can even get a word in. There’s an edge to his words; a very clear message underlying his words. “Otherwise I’ll make him stop myself.”

A flash of ectoplasmic green swirls across his eyes. Vlad, not quite intimidated by a sixteen year old still going through puberty, simply mumbles under his breath, oh stop with the ‘scary’ eyes, Daniel, honestly. Lucifer catches the moment, eying them both with interest as he relaxes into the chair. He makes a motion with his hand and suddenly the woman - Mazikeen - isn’t there anymore; Danny isn’t sure where she went, if he should be worried about it, or if it was a sign of good faith.

“ You are a very interesting child,” Lucifer says, “At first I thought you two may have been one of mine, but that’s not really the case is it?”

Danny isn’t sure what one of mine really means; he doesn’t really want to know either. The way Lucifer says it feels off, as if he’s not concerned by it or that they would have been in worse trouble if they had in fact been one of his (whatever that means). Vlad recovers fast, eying Lucifer with narrowed eyes.

“Just what is it that you’re inferring, Mr. Morningstar?”

“Why, that you’re not human, of course!”

He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, a large grin stretched on his face as he finishes off the suspicious joint, making a point to blow the smoke away from them. It may have been a trick of the light, or even just a magic trick, but Danny swears that the smoke formed some sort of devilish face. Complete with the horns and all.

Danny’s grin falters as he watches Lucifer closely.

F-uck-ing typical. At this rate, he will never get to see the endeavor or any other of California’s space museums. Why can’t he have just one normal road trip for once? No circus ringleader, no reality altering devices, no ghosts, and no ghost hunters. He just wants to get a selfie with a space shuttle, order as much hotel food as he can off of Vlad’s card, and then crash. Maybe even go to the Griffith Observatory. Fly to the Hollywood sign. Sneak into a Disney park and take a selfie on top of Cinderella’s castle. Just a normal trip (with a few added advantages to being a half-ghost boy). Now, he has to instead worry about some devil-obsessed (but definitely weird and maybe not human at all) club owner finding out his secret.

This is exactly what Danny told Vlad; meeting someone you don’t know is just a risk. At the very least, Lucifer doesn’t look like a ghost hunter. He definitely doesn’t fit the M.O. of a Guys In White agent. There could be other agencies out there though, other people who want to hunt them down. Who knows, maybe whatever this guy really is likes to eat ghosts or hunt them for sport. This is exactly what he was concerned about. Now, his secret, and Vlad’s secret too he supposes, could be blown all because Vlad had to go make a shady business deal.

Danny turns to Vlad, not even bothering to whisper as his voice cuts through the loud music.

“I told you so.”

#danny phantom #lucifer #crossover #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #x-over #uncle vlad #vlad masters #au

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bluebellwriting · 4 years

Text

Love Me Tender part 1

An Alastor x Chubby!Reader in which you are Angel Dust’s older sister

You were in the middle of baking a cake when your little brother and the two girls dead-set on helping him walked into the hotel. It was supposed to be a celebratory-post-interview cake/congratulations-on-Angel-being-clean-for-two-days cake, but after you heard the interview from the little radio you had set up in the kitchen, it was now a condolences cake. Also Angel was no longer receiving any cake, which would probably be the only thing to motivate him to stay clean for a few days.

You love your little brother with all your heart, as you do with all of your siblings, but you had to all but force him to come to this hotel because you were sick of watching him kill himself for shits and giggles... well, not “kill” himself, but you get it. And he just wasn’t taking this seriously. It’s not like you wanted him redeemed, even if you did believe in it. The best part about being in Hell was that you were finally reunited with your siblings and dad. But if these girls could at least get him to stop putting himself in precarious situations and therefore cause you a little less grief, you would be eternally grateful. So you stayed at the hotel with him, just to keep him in check and also to take break from the drama that was Hell’s respective mafias. Charlie had also begged you to stay because you were an excellent cook and baker from years of making meals for your hopeless siblings.

You poke your head out of the kitchen door to see Charlie sulking and Vaggie scolding your brother. Sighing, you return to your cake, deciding to have a little chat with Angel afterwards. You couldn’t handle any arguing right now. You had just had a rather annoying conversation with your other brother regarding Angel’s progress, how you should give up on him and just come back to work with him and your dad:

“He’s a lost cause, (Y/N),” Arackniss had groaned.

“He’s our baby brother, you prick. Besides, I’m getting a little sick of mob-business. I need a break.”

“Dad’s not gonna like that. You’re his favorite.”

“Just tell dad I say hi and that I’ll see him for family dinner.” You slammed the phone down.

So yeah, you really just wanted to shove your face in the bitter dark chocolate confection as soon as possible. Now that they were all home and somewhat safe, you took this moment to turn the volume up on your radio, letting some Ella Fitzgerald and Doris Day drown out the arguments. You also apparently drowned out the arrival of a red-clad overlord.

“So tell me, what do you have here in way of a staff?” Alastor scans the lobby of the hotel, quite unimpressed with the choice in decor and the dust. Honestly, there was dust everywhere, it was disgusting.

“Well...” Charlie motions towards the glowering moth demon and he shakes his head. How did the young princess expect to get this place off the ground with a less than welcoming manager and a debauched patron? Speaking of...

Alastor makes his way over to the lounging spider and gives him a curious smile.

“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick.” Oh dear Lord, who raised this creature? It takes everything within Alastor not to cringe and to keep his smile up.

“Ha! No.” Angel shrugs then points a finger towards the closed kitchen door.

“There’s also my sister.” Alastor’s ears perk up and he strolls over to the door. As he nears, his sensitive ears pick up the sound of Ella Fistgerald, the distinct sound of radio static, and another feminine voice singing quietly along. Alastor’s grin widens as he slowly opens the door so as not to make a sound. Revealing you, an incredibly small and ample young lady making frosting. He leans against the doorframe, watching your fluffy (h/c) hair bounce around and your ample hips swaying to the melody of “Dream A Little Dream of Me,” a song from before his time but not too much later. He takes a whiff and smells the familiar bitterness of dark chocolate, the only sweet thing he can remotely bear. Well, this establishment is just full of surprises, isn’t it?

He’s not quite sure how much time passes, in all honesty he’s perfectly content watching you shimmy your way around the kitchen, which is strange for him. He can count on one hand the number of people he enjoys spending more than ten minutes with. Well, maybe he’ll just have to add you to the list, if your taste in music is anything to go by at least.

“Hey sis! Ya got a secret admirer!” The shrill voice of Angel rings in his ears and causes you to whip around and brace yourself against the counter. You wrap both sets of arms around yourself like a shield and frown at him briefly. Alastor freezes at the hard glare, even if it’s only on your face for an instant before it softens to a confused stare.

You recognized the Radio Demon immediately because, unlike your brother you actually kept up with politics. You made it your business to know who was worth knowing and who was dangerous enough to avoid, and thankfully up until this point you were able to avoid his path of carnage. But the man before you isn’t smiling wickedly like you had always imagined. There isn’t blood in his teeth nor is he invading your space with the intention to strike. No, this man is just standing idly in the doorway with a wide, friendly smile. And he’s tall, like really tall. And way too thin. Goodness, when was the last time he ate?

“Um... hello,” you say quietly, still keeping your arms around you, a habit when you’re around strange men. He lurches forward and you flinch, not just because you’re scared of him specifically (you are a bit though), but because you have a... complicated history with men rushing you.

He leans down slightly but makes sure to tower over you still, and grabs one of your hands before you even know what’s going on.

“Alastor, darling. A pleasure.” His voice is oozing static and glee, but he’s not as loud as you thought he would be. He leans down and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman, something you haven’t experienced since you were a young girl.

“And who might you be, darling?” You catch your brother passing by the doorway, snickering at you and you realize that he still hasn’t released your hand. You tug it away from him and give him a polite but small smile.

“(Y/N). Very nice to meet you, sir.”

“Sir! Why I haven’t been called that since, well, since the last time I had a wretched soul cowering before me!” He laughs hysterically and you shiver at the thought.

The smell of cooked chocolate invades your nostrils, and you briefly wonder if saving your cake is worth turning your back to this man. He seems to decide for you.

“Why that smells delicious, dearie.” He strolls over to the oven in only two steps and plucks your cakes out of the oven with a bare hand. You gawk at him, because he seems completely unbothered by the scorching metal in his hands. He crosses the kitchen back to you and places the pans down on the counter, flashing you a proud smile like he’s showing off.

“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of sweets, though. But this smells so good, I’ll just have to try.” He goes to snag some of the cake from a pan and your older-sister instincts take over before you can even stop yourself. You smack his hand. You smack the Radio Demon’s hand. His neck snaps towards you at a painful angle at an inhuman speed. His eyes turn into radio dials and his smile is just vicious. But you don’t seem to care in this moment and just shoot him a stern glare.

“You can’t have any yet. It’s hot and I still need to frost it. You can have some when it’s ready with everyone else,” you tell him simply and bump his rigid body to the side with your hip to begin frosting.

Alastor is stunned. Because he hates being touched when he doesn’t expect it or initiate it. Because years of being an overlord means that you have to keep your guard up for any sort of attack but he doesn’t seem to mind when it comes from you. Because you weren’t actually attacking him you were just... protecting your cake? Because you didn’t seem to really care who he was in that moment and he kind of liked that, that you weren’t afraid to defend what was yours, even if it was a cake. Because you weren’t just a shy little spider anymore. You were spunky.

He wills his eyes to return to normal and smirks at you. He reaches on long arm over your shoulder and attempts to steal some frosting but one of your arms smacks his hand away again. He continues, his attempted assault on your cake and each time one of your arms smacks him away while the others focus on frosting the cake expertly. You’re quite annoyed by his mocking. Alastor is the most entertained he’s been in years. He loves the way your eyebrows crease together as you concentrate on piping, and the wrinkling of your nose when he gets too close to ruining said piping.

When you’re finally done you whip around and glare at him.

“Are you done?” you ask. He just gives you an innocent smile in return and shrugs his shoulders. You roll your eyes and push past him to carry the cake out into the lobby for everyone to enjoy. He stays in the kitchen a moment longer, watching you march away and taking in the tingling felt on the spot where your small form brushed against him. He’s shocked, completely and utterly shocked at how much he wants to hold on to that tingling feeling.

The radio continues to play as the song finishes

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Alastor decided then and there that he was going to make it his mission to get you more comfortable around him, if it meant he’d get to see more of the spirited young lady with excellent music taste.

Dream a little dream of me

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #x chubby reader #x chubby!reader #they say write the stories you want to see

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ichika27 · 3 years

Text

OnS Chapter 102

Hey whaddaya know... they really did post a new chapter on the last day of April! I thought this thing was monthly... it’s strange but I’m not complaining.

Yuu is finally here to save Mika! It won’t be that easy though since the demons aren’t just gonna stop just cause he arrived. Gekkoin and Kiseki-o takes Mika away and leaves Asuramaru to deal with an angry Yuu.

Time for questioning!

Yuu is of course, disappointed. They were getting along so well recently and now he finds out Asuramaru wanted to hurt Mika and is with the enemy. Asuramaru says he has reasons but it won’t be easy to explain.

What reasons, I wonder? Would it be enough to redeem him? We’d never know cause Yuu is mad and if Asuramaru can’t explain it then he won’t listen.

He sees no other choice but to possess Yuu to give them more time. The way to possess a human is to make them give into their desires and so Asuramaru asks Yuu what those strong desires are.

It’s to save Mika, duh!

How long has Asuramaru been with Yuu by now? Yuu can be kind of simple-minded and an idiot especially when it concerns his loved ones so of course at the moment his main concern is Mika. This guy who saw his family - his fellow orphans - die in front of him and didn’t even know Mika survived and only found out four years later when Mika is already a vampire who was technically alone and around other vampires for all those years. Then they went to war and then Mika “dies” in front of Yuu... did Asuramaru really think there’s anything else in Yuu’s mind at this point?

Like, come on... Asuramaru has been impersonating Mika whenever he tries to possess Yuu and now he’s surprised.

Hmmm... what’s going on? What’s with the angels in the background?

Plan backfires on Asuramaru and now Yuu turns him into a weapon. Seriously, how did he not see that coming?

Oooh flashback! First of all, you guys notice it, too right? Mitsuba’s demon isn’t even in this lineup and has never been shown aside from the weapon form this entire time. Seriously, when will the author give Mitsuba some relevance in this story? Like the demons of everyone else in the Shinoa squad is connected to the main plot except for hers. That said, at least there’s a chance her demon is on the protagonists side unlike the others.

Anyways, “Save the world”... what does that mean? They know something we don’t but is it the truth or is Sika Madu lying and manipulating them? They’re pretty loyal to him though cause he says after this that they can leave if they want since they’re not getting compensated for this but they decided to stay. I wonder what he told them?

Poor Mika is being bullied by the other demons. It seems Asuramaru (who they are calling Ashera, I just noticed) really is powerful since he’s needed for something like this. With him not available at the moment, the two others left need to do this on their own.

Except they can’t cause Yuu seem to have teleported himself to where they are.

There’s a fight scene 2-vs-1 with everyone giving all they got. I really hope for a season 3 to see it animated cause I think it’d be cooler if it’s moving with colors lol.

Yuu managed to make them use their powers and with that (plus paying attention to the two calling each other by familiar names) he realizes that it’s not just his demon who is an enemy. Kiseki-o uses his coffins to try and trap Yuu but Yuu uses that opportunity to send a message to the outside world.

What kind of 5d chess game are these people playing? The backstabbing, the multiple parties, and now this plan being foiled by someone thinking in advance using the same plan... I never thought this story would be this convoluted. Not mad, just surprised and confused as to what to feel.

Now knowing that even their demons can’t be trusted, Kimizuki tells Yoichi that they have to cut off giving their demons power so they can help Yuu. Shinoa is still hanging in there, too, by the way!

Yoichi isn’t family-friendly today! That blank look in his eyes as he threatens Gekkoin though... it’s been a while!

I didn’t screenshot it but this boy just told his demon that he doesn’t give a crap at what “reason” they may have had cause hurting the ones he care about is an immediate no-no. He also said he doesn’t care about what great cause it maybe and it ties well with him threatening Guren a few chapters back. Yoichi had just found out recently that the death of his older sister (something that made a big impact on him all this time and one of the reasons he fight) was part of a plan and it’s for some great cause as well. Hearing that it’s apparently for the same reason his friends are now in danger too seem to piss him off.

The entire team went to crap the entire story and Yoichi isn’t just gonna let anyone else he cares about be used again. Darn, Lacus is so dead once Yoichi gets his revenge...

Yuu finally has Mika!

He was able to defeat the other two demons due to his friends’ help. He now tells Mika that he’d save him even if the world ends. Yuu probably wouldn’t want the world to end and won’t let it since he does care about everyone else but this just means he would probably be more open to agreeing with any desperate attempt that would assure that everyone’s okay and especially Mika is okay.

I guess the main characters are developing in a way that may not be entirely heroic. I can’t blame them when everyone else has either hurt them or lied to them like, who else could they really trust right now? They have also lost people they care about and are able to watch it which is awful so they’re also in “protect”-mode right now.

I’m excited for the next chapter! We’d finally know if Mika would become Yuu’s cursed gear. Hopefully his dormant memories of Yuu would mean he’s loyal and on their side but like Asuramaru, Mika seem to have connections with Sika Madu and he’s referred to as the “king”. We still don’t know what that meant and how it’d affect Mika as a demon.

On the other hand, I wonder how everyone else would be handling this. Their demons are also with the bad guy. And Byakkomaru is there, too so soon, Shinya would also have to deal with the knowledge that his own demon is part of the bad guy group. With them not being there to know what’s currently going on, I wonder if Byakkomaru would make a move?

Alright, I think that’s all I could say for now. I got excited and actually waited until the new chapter was posted so I could finally read it and then make a post here several hours later (I got busy so I wasn’t able to make this post earlier). Til next chapter!

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #manga #mikayuu #sana_post

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Note

Hola, mademoiselle! Would you mind continuing "Drugged hero" PLEASE?! Danké !

I love that there’s four languages in just three sentences. Amazing.

I need to change the title to Drugged Angel. Oopses. As a pre-cursor...Hunter and Marcy are now going to be considered OCs. This, and the previous one explore the basics of the characters, but I can also do random tropes with them as requested since the basis is Marcy being- cough, cough- tortured. Having said that, heed the tags.

@whatwhumpcomments @daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

******

A weight on Marcy’s back woke her. It was an odd sensation, one she hadn’t felt in months, but immediately recognized. It was the weight of her wings. She couldn’t brave opening her eyes and turning her head back.

Tears pricked her eyes, spilling out of the corners and running warm down her cheeks, chin, neck, and into her shirt, which was tight against her throat. If Marcy reached back to feel her wings, she’d feel the fabric of her shirt being pulled back with them. She was thankful, at least, that she wasn’t choking. But maybe she shouldn’t feel thankful for that. Maybe dying was better than…

The realization that Marcy was in Hell struck her like a wave of fire. A cry raised in her throat, but she kept her eyes screwed shut. Opening them meant facing reality. Opening them meant being fully aware of her situation. It meant taking in the bars Hunter always kept her in, and taking in the wings- once white, now a dark grey and leathery with few feathers- on her back, the ones that made her feel so impossibly heavy.

Eventually she would have to open her eyes, but for now Marcy had to tell herself she was dreaming. In her reality, she was laying in a human bed- not an odd nest in a cage- and she had the television on because otherwise her ears rang loudly from the noises of her past. There was a nightlight in her room that would be active despite the tv being one because it was behind her bed, cloaked in shadow if not for its own light. Marcy tried to imagine herself being that little light- one so small, but so capable of staying lit. Darkness used to be a comfort to her because it meant she could admire the glow of her own skin. In the light, there was nothing special; everything looked the same. But in the dark, Marcy’s skin glowed an orange-yellow, and she felt glorious- holy.

Darkness didn’t have the comfort now that it did then. Now it was just a place where Marcy could be found- could be touched- by any beings of the night, since that’s where they manifested. Of course, it was always night at Hunter’s home, and he didn’t mind visitors, especially since it was only ever to see his pet- to see Marcy. Not many demons had succeeded in turning angels into fallen by simply presenting them a choice.

An image of a writhing human flashed across Marcy’s mind.

There was only one. If there had been two or three, she might have been able to redeem herself, but Hunter only gave her one dying human. It didn’t work out quite as Hunter planned. Marcy was supposed to finish the job, and then she’d earn her freedom. Instead, she comforted the human while it died. Marcy should have known it was a trick, then and there, when Hunter still let her go. But as he said, “You could have healed them. You did not. Leave.”

Marcy hadn’t thought twice about leaving when granted her opportunity. She spread her white wings, she glowed, and she was gone.

But then she was falling from the sky, wings useless as her body darted towards the ground. Marcy saw her white wings shrouded with grey tendrils. Even as she fell, she could feel those shadows pushing and pulling her wings, stretching them, and tugging the feathers away before settling. Her wings were grey, and they weren’t like those of a bird anymore. They weren’t like anything known to creation. Marcy’s wings now belonged only to the Fallen. She wasn’t granted access into her holy lands. She was banned.

Becoming one of the Fallen was easier than she anticipated. Marcy didn’t glow quite as much as when she was an angel. And the small amount that she did was a different colour- blue. It allowed her to blend in with the humans. When a human questioned her glow, she said it was ‘glow-in-the-dark paint’ because apparently that was a thing. Either way, Hunter wouldn’t find her. But he did. Marcy didn’t know that the blue glow attracted demons whereas the orange-yellow repelled them. After just a few months, Hunter slipped something into Marcy’s water, and now she was kneeled in a cage with her eyes screwed shut, and her fallen wings permanently sprouted behind her.

Ting. Ting. Ting.

Marcy jumped at every sound, taking ragged breaths. It’s a flagpole. I’m in bed and- and someone put a flag up. It’s just metal hitting metal. Not a tail on a cage.

A hand brushed her wings and she felt what few feathers there were still attached to the top bristling. A breeze. The A.C. must have kicked on.

A fist clenched around her two wings, tightening, tightening- she pulled them away, both of them, as she found they were pinned together by something. Her eyes opened, but she casted her gaze to her knees while she sat knelt in the twig and mud nest. She hated this nest.

“There she is, my pretty bird.” Hunter’s hand found her wings again and this time she knew not to pull away.

Marcy opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. It was pointless to say she wasn’t an angel. To a demon, she’d always be considered one. Even if she became a demon herself, they’d always value her as being a pet from the holy lands. The demons loved to acknowledge they made something so pure fall from grace.

“You shy away from me again. You didn’t miss my little touches?”

She remained still but took notice of the light illuminating her cage. Hunter only ever used a light when he wanted Marcy for himself. When the light was off, the other demons swarmed in. Marcy swallowed. “You said you would let me go, Hunteriaysa.”

“Using my full name? You’re hopeful, today, aren’t you?”

“I-” Marcy shook her head, finally looking up and over her shoulder. She could barely see the shadowy figure which was Hunter beyond her wings. But she did see the claws, could see how they barely missed touching the flesh of her wings. “You said you would let me go,” Marcy repeated.

Hunter laughed, and his claws finally skimmed Marcy’s left wing. She whined, but otherwise did nothing as he began to speak. “And I did. You didn’t think it was permanent, did you? Certainly, after you created your own option when given mine, you knew I’d come after you again. There are no loopholes in my deals, and every time you try to find one, you’ll be punished for it. This was your warning.”

This time, Marcy did rip away from the demon’s grasp, and in the process his claws left red gashes. Hopefully, it would scar, Marcy thought. Hopefully, she could make herself less beautiful to the demon, to Hunteriaysa. “I have fallen because of what I did under your demand, and that wasn’t punishment enough for you? I can’t go home, Hunteriaysa.”

“One, it wasn’t a demand. You chose freedom over a human’s life. According to the committee of the holy lands, you deserved your fall.” Ting, ting, ting. Hunter’s tail clanked against the cage as he rounded to the front, where Marcy began looking. She looked down when he came in front of her, looked down at his clawed feet- like a gargoyle’s. “Two, if you call me by my full name again, I will rip those precious feathers out from the tops of your wings. Once a week. I know they grow back.”

She couldn’t let him do that. It wouldn’t make her fall anymore- she’d already done that- and it wouldn’t turn her into a demon, but the feathers that remained were to serve as a reminder to former angels of their fall. Though one of the Fallen couldn’t technically fall again, they’d feel the pain of landing each time a feather was ripped out. Demons were happy to pull them, all angels and fallen knew.

If Marcy could have tucked her wings, she would have done so now. Better yet, if she could hide them, she would. “Don’t you remember being holy, Hun-Hunter?”

“We all do, but you know what I remember more than that?” Hunter reached into the pockets of his white trousers- which contrasted greatly against his midnight skin- and pulled out a key.

Marcy hated that key. She stood on wobbly legs that barely had feeling and backed up against the opposite end of her cage. She suddenly felt very hot, but her skin was riddled with goosebumps. Her breaths were deep, but they didn’t feel like they were reaching her lungs. The panic Hunter sent her in was uncontrollable, especially as he threatened to pluck her feathers, though in truth, she would have been panicked before the threat. He was a demon, and he acted like one for as long as he had captured her.

“Don’t,” Marcy whispered as Hunter opened the door. He kept it wide open as he stepped in; he always did this to give his bird a false hope of escape. She utilized the opportunity twice, both times ending in her own bloody skinned- and screaming humans to top it off. “Hunter, please. I’m sorry.” He hadn’t said what it was he thought of, but Marcy knew. Hunter dangled it over her head like fresh meat over a weak lion- tauntingly.

He stepped closer and Marcy’s hands found themselves wrapped around the bars behind her, clenched. Her wings passed through, out of reach from the demon stepping towards her.

“I let you fall,” she said. “I’m sorry. If I could have brought you back, I would, but you know I would have only been casted away with you. But I came to you, Hunteriaysa. I came to you to help, and I wasn’t allowed, but I did because I loved you and I was willing to put my grace at risk for you. You brought me here against my wishes.”

Hunter was a step away- too close, much too close. “You said my name.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head wildly. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to, Hunter. Hunter. Understand me, please. I loved you, and I came for you. Why do you do this to me?”

“Because…” Hunter brought a hand to his bird’s face, stroking a thumb across her cheekbone gently. She almost nestled into his touch. “You betrayed me. I killed that human to save you from what I am now. You told the council. You damned me.”

She whimpered; eyes closed. “I didn’t want to, Hun- I’m sorry. I’m not meaning to use that name. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” His hand was warm on her cheek and it reminded her of when Hunteriaysa was an angel. He was so sweet, then, so loving and kind, and he loved Marcy more than anything. He protected her against a demon ready to capture her. Hunteriaysa killed a human to protect Marcy…and she turned him in for it out of fear for it being found out and that she might be in trouble for keeping it secret. “I’m sorry. I loved you, though. You have to know that, Hunter.”

His finger turned sharp against her cheek and she gasped, pushing her head back and to the side, her other cheek pressed hard against the bars as she tried to get away. “And what about now, Marsielia? I found you looking for me, and when I brought you back, you tried running away. Tell me, is that how you love?”

Marcy understood now why hearing an angel’s full name was so distasteful to demons- apparently it was to the Fallen, too, as she felt it herself. Her brain was struck like a gong. Her name was as forbidden as she was in the holy lands now. She swallowed, and Hunter dug a claw into her cheek.

“Forgive me,” Marcy whispered. She peered at her old lover with only her eyes, no turning of the head, or else Hunter’s claw might strike bone. “I had been scared. I was selfish, and I should have fallen with you then.”

“Is that truly what you believe?”

Despite the claw, she nodded, not believing she could admit it vocally.

“Then join me. Allow yourself that final plunge into darkness and be one with me.”

Her breath shuddered. “Become a- a demon?”

“Yes.” Hunter’s voice was a smooth hiss. “You’ve already fallen, and you can’t return to the holy lands. Submit to the darkness, Marsielia, and become it. I will forgive you then.”

Her body jolted as he used her name again, his claw pushing in further. “You’ll continue to hurt me if I don’t,” Marcy said. “You don��t love me anymore; you just want your revenge. You have changed entirely.” She nearly dared to speak his own name but remembered his threat.

“Of course, I changed, dear. I was betrayed.” His claws retracted, his fingers brushing over the hole he made in Marcy’s cheek. “I was betrayed by the bird I loved most. Do you understand that your betrayal hurt worse than my fall? I didn’t even flinch when my kind found me, ripped my feathers out over, and over, and over again. It didn’t hurt like what you did to me. I loved you, Marsielia. I fell for you so you wouldn’t be taken and tortured by my kind, and you turned me in.”

He brought a finger to her chin, hooked it, and forced her to look at him. “So, what will it be, Marcy? Will you be with me or should I turn the light out?”

Marcy shook her head. “Don’t. Please don’t. Hunter, you know what they’ll do- what they do every time.”

“Rip out your feathers? Tear your wings? Scratch and prod at you with searing talons? Take your precious lips with their own? It isn’t so bad, is it? It can’t be worse than becoming one of them, right? Like becoming me?”

“You can’t do this. Hunter, please.”

Hunteriaysa took steps back and back until he was grasping the door, watching as Marcy’s face fell deeper into despair and fear. “One day, you’ll submit, and you’ll love me again. And then? You can never betray me again because you have already fallen, and you will have nothing else to lose.” He shut the cage door, locking it with the key before placing it back in his pocket once again. His tail dragged along the floor, and he said, “Until then…I heard some of my kind have begun using their tails as whips. If my visitors tonight don’t, maybe I’ll try it out myself. Or maybe I will do it either way. Goodnight, my love. May your screams derive from Hell- which they will.”

The light turned out, and not a moment later, Marsielia’s skin glowed blue, and she saw the shadows dance with the light. “Hunter!” But Hunter wasn’t there, and the demons were excited to see such pretty white feathers, no matter how few.

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btsmosphere · 3 years

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When You Know | KSJ x MYG

~summary: Seokjin and Yoongi aren’t just neighbours. They are enemies. Well, either that or they were destined to be in each other’s arms, but Yoongi can’t see that happening (nor can his cat). Let their friends try all they want, but they’d have to weather storms together and stand back to back in battle before Yoongi would look twice at Jin... Jin x Yoongi ~word count: 3.3k ~enemies to lovers, soulmate au (you have the name of your enemy AND your soulmate tattooed, without knowing which is which), neighbour au, crack, humour, fluff, angst if you squint? Rating: pg13 Warnings: swearing, that’s it :) ~a/n: welcome to my first mxm fic! This is for a special occasion as it is the wonderful @eternalseokjin‘s birthday!! To celebrate Dean’s birthday over at @thebtswritersclub we were sent a bingo card and a challenge to include everything on it in one fic. Our regular mxr content will resume soon, but this has been super fun to write, even if the outcome is -ahem- quite chaotic. So, enjoy, but don’t ask me what’s going on here. I don’t know, and the characters certainly don’t either...

At the end of the fic, I will include what was on my bingo square, in case anyone wants to know, and some basics about d&d for those who (like me a few weeks ago) know nothing about it, but I promise you don’t need to know this to read the fic!

“You’re not serious.”

“I am totally serious.”

Namjoon’s straight-faced response matched Yoongi’s exactly, leaving the two in a sort of staring contest. Seeing no change in the other, Namjoon cracked first, slumping back into the sofa with a sigh.

“Yoongi, come on. It’s not that big of a deal-“

“Why would I want to do it?” Yoongi grumbled.

“it’s just a bit of fun-“

“Then go and do it with Seokjin. I’m sure you’ll have a great time playing wizards, or whatever the fuck-“

“That’s the entire point!” Namjoon threw his hands up in frustration, “we will all be playing, you and Jin included, and we will have a great time.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure if he had ever been threatened with having fun before. Staring back at his friend, his expression remained guarded. Eventually, he sucked at his teeth, turning his eyes away from the younger man.

“Fine,” he bit out.

“Thank you,” Namjoon huffed, pushing on his knees to stand up, “we’ll start at 5 on Sunday, but I’ll get here earlier. Jin will bring food to make up for the trouble.”

Following Joon out to see him off, Yoongi’s brows furrowed.

“Wait- what trouble? And what do you mean you’ll get here-“

“You’ll be hosting. Okay, bye!”

The door was shut in his face before he could protest any further. Cursing Namjoon for knowing him so damn well, Yoongi stomped to the kitchen and soon began scrubbing the teacups to within an inch of their life.

He’d heard of dungeons and dragons before. Well, vaguely. It hadn’t occurred to him before to pay attention to Namjoon whenever he spoke about it, because surprisingly enough, he hadn’t expected his friend to suddenly whip it out as a method of forcing him and Seokjin – his mortal enemy – to bond.

The whole mortal enemy thing wasn’t even an exaggeration.

What else were you supposed to think when the new neighbour, whose name happens to be printed on your wrist, tries to turn your cat over to the authorities on their first day after it launched a ‘targeted attack’ on their pet sugar gliders.

Yoongi was yet to meet the mysterious V that graced his other wrist, but he knew for sure that Kim Seokjin was his enemy. He could not be soulmates with someone who thinks it’s okay to leave a pair of sugar gliders by an open window and not expect a cat to see them as a tasty meal.

When they had learned each other’s names, and of course connected them with their tattoos, an icy silence fell between the neighbours.

Every now and then, Yoongi would get a reminder of the fact his mortal enemy lived next door. Like this morning, when Seokjin’s wheely bin had blown over and spilled rubbish onto his lawn.

Yes, that man’s evil knew no limits.

And if Yoongi would have to endure his friends’ attempts at reconciling the two of them, in his own house, then he was sure of one thing. He was not going to eat Seokjin’s cooking. It was probably awful, anyway.

That Sunday, at precisely five minutes to five, Namjoon arrived. Yoongi’s eyes widened in alarm at the bulging folder held under his arm. He really had come prepared. Yoongi had barely spent twenty minutes scribbling down some things about his character. Well, except when he had to read all about the different class choices… and then when he needed to select the perfect traits… and picking his spells was quite tough too…

“Are you excited?” Namjoon grinned as he set his stuff down, but then he faltered, “…I did tell you Jin would bring food, didn’t I?”

“Can’t remember,” Yoongi muttered.

He slouched over to the sofa while Namjoon shrugged, grabbing a bite from the nearest bowl of snacks. The table was littered with them, and Yoongi would never admit just how early he had got up that morning to start cooking.

Jungkook turned up next, and of course the brat would instantly wolf down the tub of popcorn rather than the bites Yoongi had been slaving over.

Seokjin’s was the last knock on the door, and a timid one at that. Although it may have had something to do with the food his arms were laden with.

As Yoongi opened the door (Namjoon had shoved him towards it before anyone else had the chance to respond), he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty. It seemed his neighbour had worked just as hard as him on preparing it all.

But still, more of a grimace than a smile showed on his face.

“This way,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

His guilt was short-lived, irritation setting back in as Seokjin invited himself into the kitchen to put down his things. Jungkook bounded after him almost instantly, the pair’s loud greeting audible from the next room.

Turning away bitterly, Yoongi sat in the empty seat between Namjoon and Taehyung, determined to keep his distance from Seokjin.

In time, however, he came to regret this decision, if only because it put Seokjin in full view of the eyes Yoongi so desperately wanted to roll when he announced he wanted to attempt to charm his way to free dinner at the first inn they got to. His reason? His stupid elf claimed to be ‘worldwide handsome’.

The infuriating smirk on his face as he declared this (and then proceeded to pass his roll, because of course) left Yoongi with little doubt this arrogance was nothing but a projection.

After introducing themselves, Yoongi slumping back in his chair the whole time, he let the others take the lead as they set off to find monsters, or something. A pointed look from Namjoon prompted him to pay more attention.

In fairness, he had been a bit creeped out when Taehyung announced he had named his character ‘V’, but he tried his best to listen to the adventure as Namjoon described it. And so they went along, the supply of snacks steadily dwindling as they made their way through some ruins.

The scene was quite vivid, until-

“That’s cat food, Jungkook!”

“Urgh, gross,” Jimin groaned as Jin pried the bowl away from the sheepish-faced younger.

If it had been anyone else, Yoongi would have returned the fond-but-exasperated look they were all well practised in, given the nature of their younger friends. As it was, he ducked his head, scribbling nonsense on his notepad.

It would be a lie if Yoongi said he wasn’t quite proud of himself for solving a riddle to get them into the final room, and getting the final hit on the hellhound inside. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little excited for their next game.

Shutting the door at long last, Yoongi paused for a moment.

Screw Namjoon and his good ideas.

Clearing away the dishes, Yoongi couldn’t help a glance out the window to watch as Seokjin let himself in to his own place, his own stack of plates in his arms. Not that he would ever admit it, Yoongi hadn’t been able to resist just one bite…

Well, it turned into a lot more than that. Maybe Seokjin was a good cook after all.

But that was just one redeeming quality. Best not get ahead of himself.

Yoongi was in trouble.

It had only been a couple more weeks, but he knew that much. As they sat around his table, he caught himself laughing along to Jin’s jokes. And look, he was already calling him Jin! No, he had to stick to Seokjin, the evil neighbour, his enemy.

If he got fond, he would only be sorry later when Jin – Seokjin – did something to remind Yoongi of what a terrible person he was.

Shame all of this seemed to slip his mind the moment Jin came around again.

“The slope is steep, with rocks falling where you move your feet. You can still hear the song, though, and you are certain it’s coming from inside the dark opening you can see at the bottom of the path.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Yoongi was the first to speak.

“Are you kidding? We just spent like an hour trekking over here specifically because of that music,” Taehyung was next to chip in, jabbing his finger into the table.

“It wasn’t an hour,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Joon told us it was hour, it was what? One minute?”

A high pitched giggle from Jin was overtaken next by Jimin.

“No, I can feel the weariness in my bones! It won’t be complete until we hear the song!”

“We’ve been hearing it all this time! Aren’t you guys sick of it by now?” Jin retorted.

“No! Joon specifically said it’s the most beautiful music we’ve ever heard,” Tae insisted.

“I don’t give a shit if there’s a chorus of angels in there, my dexterity is not gonna let me get down that cliff,” Yoongi folded his arms to punctuate his argument.

“Ugh, fine, well I want to go down with V,” Jimin said.

The two factions that had emerged looked expectantly towards Namjoon.

“Okay, so V and Christian want to go down and Genie and Suga want to stay here. Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’ll go down,” Kook shrugged.

All heads turned now to Hobi. Unease written all over his features, he glanced between the two groups.

“Come one, don’t be boring, hyung!” Jimin elbowed him.

“Yeah, come with us!” Kook bounced in his seat as Taehyung switched on the puppy eyes with a string of ‘pleeeease’s.

Cracking under the force of the youngers’ begging, Hoseok laughed and agreed.

Folding his arms, Yoongi leant back in his chair, more than ready to be a bystander to whatever the hell the others were about to get themselves into.

The others of course had an irritating success rate, somehow making it down the cliff without plummeting to their deaths. Not that Yoongi would ever wish death upon his own party members. Of course not.

It would have been funny, though.

Anyway, despite his aversion to following them, Yoongi admittedly was a little curious about the mysterious music they had followed here.

“Stepping inside the cave, the party hears the music louder than ever, ringing in their ears as it bounces off the rocks, making its source unclear. However, it doesn’t offend your ears. The cave extends further into the cliff, and you follow the sound further in. But as you take a step, a great groaning drowns out the music. Behind you, the mouth of the cave shifts, everything around you going black.

“Those of you at the top of the cliff stumble back from the edge as they see the path crumble away into the sea from the shaking of the earth.”

Namjoon sniggered softly at the silence that followed.

Staring at him with comically large eyes, Hobi and Tae looked terrified. As Yoongi watched, Tae slowly turned his head, a smirk turning the edges of his mouth underneath puppy eyes.

“Come rescue us?” he asked sheepishly.

Before Yoongi could respond, Jin was cutting him off.

“Well, that was a fun detour! Where was it we were heading again, Yoongi?”

Yoongi had been preparing to be mad at Seokjin, but his glare dissolved quickly into a snort.

“Yeah, that demon up the road needs seeing to,” he agreed, creating instant uproar from the others.

“You can’t leave us!”

“Justin’s scared of the dark!”

“Traitors!”

However, Jin’s squeaky laugh as he revelled in the others’ pain was all Yoongi could hear. Then Jin leaned closer.

It was all Yoongi could do not jump from his seat when Seokjin’s voice spoke in his ear.

“Shall we leave them?” he was barely containing his mirth.

Feeling rather like he was plotting a prank in the back of the classroom, Yoongi grinned and agreed with a nod. He didn’t quite trust his voice to function as Jin’s breath tickled his cheek.

“We’re leaving!” Jin declared, sitting back in his chair, satisfied.

Before any more chaos could erupt, Namjoon continued with a smirk.

“Okay, so Suga and Genie carry on their previous path, away from their friends and the cliff…”

This was officially getting out of hand.

First of all, Yoongi couldn’t believe how eagerly he was anticipating the weekend, when Seokjin and the others would come around.

Particularly worrying, however, was the way Yoongi had to restrain himself from going to see Jin before Sunday rolled around. It was as if that writing on his wrist was staring at him. The more he tried to look away, the later he would find himself sat up at night, glancing between his wrists and what was written there.

Surely, if Kim Seokjin was his enemy, he wouldn’t be dying to ask how he makes his ramen taste so good. Or how his day was, or any trivial thing, just to be able to have Jin’s eyes on him and his voice in his ears.

Second of all, he had no idea how their campaign had devolved into such utter chaos.

Since the party split, the others made friends with the sirens they found in the cave, and ended up at a drinking party with some demons while Yoongi and Jin were nearly killed by one some miles away on the surface. The demons had apparently taken a particular shining to V, as a tiefling, which resulted in the group they abandoned somehow siding with the very demons they were trying to kill at the start.

Last Sunday had seen Yoongi and Jin going out of their way to find random things to beat to death in the forest, trying to get as many points as possible to face off against four members and goodness knows how many demons.

Yes, this had got rather out of hand.

Two old foes stand face to face on a precipice. Around them, fire blazes. This battle has ravaged the very land they stand upon, whipped the air into a frenzy.

Admittedly, they can barely remember what started this feud. Rumour has it these two great powers were friends, once. If that was so, it was a long time ago.

V stands, battle-worn, waiting for his adversary to make a move.

Suga looks at the body of his fallen companion.

“I’ve only got one spell slot left.”

“Use it,” a whisper returned.

“Aren’t you dead?! Stop talking to each other!” Jimin exclaimed, finger pointing accusingly towards Jin.

“Okay,” Yoongi cut in before they could start arguing, “if this hits, I can take him down. But there’s a fat chance of that, with his AC…“

Trepidation filled him as he looked across the table to Taehyung, a small but unmistakeably victorious smile already on his lips.

A dry chuckle came from one side.

“It’s been a good run,” Jin clapped him on the shoulder.

“Are you accepting defeat?” Joon prompted.

“No…” a hand ran down Yoongi’s face, “I’ll give it a go…”

“There’s no way! If you succeed…” Jin laughed, “if you succeed, I’ll kiss you.”

A quiet round of laughter went around the others, too focussed on the dice in Yoongi’s hand to pay it any mind. But Yoongi could no longer concentrate on that. What did Jin just say?

He couldn’t mean that.

There was no way he would kiss Yoongi. Was there?

All he could hear was the slow drumming of his heart rushing in his ears. The breath caught in his throat as he reminded himself to raise his hand, dice cupped inside.

It wasn’t just the defeat of V he hoped for as it rolled off his fingers, dropping onto the tabletop.

The faces flipped over, every eye trained on it. Around the table, there was no sound. Even Jungkook had stopped munching his popcorn, mouth hanging open.

Round, round, round…

Yoongi caught a glimpse of 20, the magic number, right within reach.

A small thud, the dice settling. A number glared up at him.

All the air left his lungs, deflating as he stared at the number. For a second, the table remained silent as everyone came to terms with the roll, the only sound the tapping of his cat’s paws-

Wait.

When Yoongi turned to find his cat leaping onto the table, it was already to late to grab her as she dashed across the surface. As she went, her paws caught a bowl of snacks, Joon’s notepaper, the dice. Hobi exclaimed with shock, several yells going up as everyone snatched their own stuff out of her way. Jungkook had dived after the snacks.

“Hey!” Yoongi shooed her as he stood up, watching her dart out into the hall.

“Oh my god…”

The small mutter from Jimin caught his attention. Looking around, Yoongi found him staring at the table and followed his gaze to the crime scene. In the centre of which, the dice still lay.

But now, a different number was displayed.

Yoongi’s jaw dropped. It was 20.

“That’s not fair!” Taehyung cried.

“Shush Tae, Jin has to do what he promised,” Hoseok teased, nudging a very red-eared Jin.

“Yah! Hey, I-I, that’s-” Jin spluttered, mouth seemingly fixed open as his cheeks warmed, growing defensive.

As Yoongi watched, Jin only stuttered more under the teasing cries erupting from the other boys as they egged him on with an array of ‘go on’s and ‘you said you would!’

“I-I-“ his eyes flickered over to Yoongi’s.

And despite the jeering and laughter in the background, neither of them looked away. Jin’s lips remained parted, ears pink with embarrassment, protests lodged in his throat.

Yoongi stepped forwards and kissed him.

The distance between them closed in the blink of an eye, Yoongi’s hand flying to Jin’s jaw as he pulled him in, turning his back to the gasps and cheers of their friends.

But they didn’t hear it. Not when their lips were pressed together like this, lighting fireworks in Yoongi’s stomach until he felt like sparks might fly out of his fingertips, the ones he was trailing down Jin’s neck, the ones pulling at the small of his back to bring him closer.

The others had gone quiet.

By the time he groggily pulled away, Yoongi seemed to have forgotten what the world looked like. Were his feet even on the ground?

In what was probably a mirror image of his own face, Jin stared back at him, eyes wide and those perfect lips round with shock. Jin’s fingers trembled as he brought them to his mouth.

“Holy fuck.”

“U-uh, guys,” a small voice from behind them did little to snap them from their trance.

“That was-“ Yoongi breathed, words escaping him.

“It’s you, you idiot!” a grin broke onto Jin’s face.

A laugh left Yoongi’s throat, taking him by surprise.

“It- really?”

“Did you not feel that too?”

Eyes still not leaving the beautiful man in front of him, Yoongi realised. Jin was completely right. Everyone had always told him how it would feel, when he kissed his soulmate. Like butterflies, or a flame, or like the world turned golden.

But through all the different feelings people described, there was one common thread. When you know, you know.

“You’re my soulmate.”

It wasn’t something he had to question, the words leaving him as easily as air.

“You’re my soulmate!”

And then he was wrapped up in Jin’s arms, his lips captured once again, euphoric feeling surging through his body once more.

“Come on, guys…” Namjoon’s groans were completely ignored.

Taehyung was still a bit put out that V had been slain at the last hurdle, but it hardly seemed fitting to be angry about it anymore, what with his two friends falling in love in front of him.

Everyone left together after the revelation, and pretty swiftly at that, deciding to leave them to it. And for once, Jin wouldn’t be leaving with them, even if he would only be one house away.

Smile never once leaving his face, Jin turned to Yoongi after shutting the door.

“So, what are we going to do about my sugar gliders?”

Thanks everyone for reading!! Reblog if you liked it xx

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @kb-bangtanenthusiast

Okay, for anyone interested, my bingo card contained: dungeons & dragons, neighbours, enemies to lovers, namjoon, yoonjin, cats, fluff, music, soulmates And here are some dnd basics for those who want them: you have a dungeon master or dm (Namjoon here) who tells a story. The others play as a character and choose what they want to do in the given situation. There are scores that dictate how good your character is at certain traits, and you roll the dice to see whether you succeed in your choices. That’s really all you need to know for the purposes of this fic, but you can ask me any questions too!

Lastly, I have to give another HUGE happy birthday to the amazing writer and friend and person @eternalseokjin!! I hope you have the best day, you really deserve it! I’m so glad to have met you and of course played dnd together in the net! Lots of love xx

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srchng4answrs · 3 years

Text

Absolution of sin isn’t easy. Every year in my Catholic high school they would bring in priests to listen to our confessions. We would sit in the auditorium an empty chair in between each person and one by one walk to the back of the auditorium where a man in vestments would sit ready to tell us that we are still God’s children. I never went.

“Before religion” isn’t a concept that exists for me. This is strange for many reasons, the primary being that my family is not religious in the slightest. We went to church out of obligation every Christmas and Easter, and stopped following that tradition when I was in 4th grade. I don't know what my mother thought I would gain from going to a religious school for 10 years.

Catholicism is the particular sect of Christianity that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to reconcile with. The preaching of love and tolerance. The acts of service and the good deeds. Is it still a good deed if you’re doing it for personal gain?

Defender of Mankind. In Ancient Greek that's what the name Alexandria means. That's what My name means. I learned that at church. It’s ironic, the places that tell you you are meant to defend, are the same ones attacking. I wasn’t equipped to defend myself from the teachings of a group that I thought had my best interest at heart.

Eulogies in religious services are often delivered by the clergy member who is officiating the service. A religious eulogy will focus on the role of God and faith in the life of the person who died, rather than any secular accomplishments. I often write eulogies for people in my head. I have never once written something religious.

Father Sean was an odd man. Nothing against him but I wish he would stop sending me friend requests on Facebook.

Gabriel is a Hebrew name meaning “God is my strength”. He told Mary to not be afraid, but he was also the angel sent to destroy Jerusalem. Which one of those is real strength.

Half human, half divine. The manifestation of God in the flesh. How terrible it must’ve been to be crucified for telling the truth. To be needlessly slaughtered for the sake of people that want to see your organs fail as you slowly suffocate and bleed out. Father forgive them they do not know what they are doing.

I often wish I understood. I want to be able to walk into a church and feel god. I want to wear my Kairos cross without feeling like a liar. I don’t think religion was meant for people like me.

Jesus was not white. He didn’t have long flowing hair or a long beard. He was shorter than we think. Is it more disrespectful to put someone on a cross or to purposefully make their physical appearance more palatable for a racist audience.

Kairos may have been the closest I’ve ever been to experiencing god. For three days you sit in small groups and listen to people talk about their most traumatic experiences. Religious retreats are made to break you. To make you flood the earth with your tears. To make you turn to god because there’s no one else to turn to. I wish I could say with any level of certainty that my experience was real.

Love is such a funny idea. God “Loves” you. I still don’t understand the double standard of preaching love and then telling people they love wrong. I think there are bigger sins to worry about.

Matthew was a tax collector. One of the most sinful professions they lied, cheated, and stole from the poor. The Lord will not let the righteous go hungry, but will thwart the cravings of the wicked. I find “sinners” much more real than the righteous. At least sinners don’t go out of their way to tell everyone they sin.

No one in my philosophy of god class chose to walk away from Omelas. I remember it perfectly. You get to stay in a perfect city where everyone is happy, at the misfortune of one child. I spoke last. I would walk away. I still get chills thinking about it. I don't know why I made that choice.

Often my friends and I debate the existence of god. One philosopher said that you might as well because if you believe and god is real you gain everything, and if he isn't you lose nothing. But if you don't and he is real, you lose everything. We all know there's much more to religion than that. Simply believing in the omnipotent power that destroyed cities and flooded the earth has not, and will never be enough.

Prom was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of my life. I was the first person since my schools founding in 1957 to go to prom with someone of the same sex. That year three of my friends did the same. So much easier to just split the bill with a friend. I had to make a case for why I should be able to. Would the outcome have been different if I told them we were dating.

Questioning whether the omnipotent and all knowing being in the heavens that we cannot see, hear, smell, or touch is apparently against the rules. I got quite sick of the Lord’s Prayer.

Raining from the sky was blood. Thicker than water. Did it bring the people together or did it turn them against each other. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Blood can bring people together, but I’m not sure it can wash you clean.

Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed by sulfur and fire because of their wickedness. The two cities associated with homosexuality were burned to the ground. We have a history with fire. Fire cannot cleanse what isn’t dirty, but the ash will stain your hands for eternity.

Time stands still as I sit in the pews at my cousin's wedding. It seems like the hands on the clock are moving backwards. Instead of looking at them I stare at the sculpture of Jesus, crucified, blood coming out of his wounds, hanging roughly 10 feet above them. It isn’t alive. I’ve seen the same type of sculpture in a hundred different churches. But in this moment I can hear him gasping for breath. It was a beautiful service, I told her.

Uriel is the angel of repentance. In the Christian text the Apocalypse of Peter he is as pitiless as any demon. The devil himself was once an angel. What's the difference between angels and demons other than name.

Vanity was the reason the devil was cast from heaven. Born an angel and a king, free from sin he became proud of his beauty and intelligence and was struck down by God. I’m still unsure why he is considered the villain. Was it not God who leveled cities and murdered millions.

Without religion I’m unsure of what my life would look like. As hard as I try I cannot cleanly separate myself from it. Like a mouse stuck on a trap, when it gets free it either leaves its skin on the trap, or escapes covered in glue. I’m unsure if I can escape without leaving a part of myself behind, or taking something with me I did not ask for.

X appears 1,436 times in the King James version of the bible, but never at the start of the word. It is the only letter in the english alphabet that a verse does not start with.

Younger me used to enjoy church. I’m not sure why. I could never sit still, the sermons were boring, the pews were uncomfortable, and I couldn’t wait to go home. But without fail every Sunday I would wake up and get ready. I wish I could go back and tell myself that I don’t need to force myself into places I know I don't belong in order to be loved.

Zion shall be redeemed with judgment. I wonder if the same applies to me.

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propilyano-prostranstvo · 4 years

Text

Why Katherine Pierce Deserved Better: An Essay

Warning: Long as shit.

I can’t think of anywhere best to start with the beginning of her story. At sixteen she was betrayed by her father with her child being ripped from her, with not even a chance to hold the girl she was giving up. Right after, she was exiled. Your parents discarding you is traumatic, as is childbirth even with a medical professional- add on not being able to hold your child? That has to cause PTSD.

She, then, thought she found safety with the Mikaelson brothers. Little did she know that yet again, the people that were supposed to keep her safe, were going to betray her. Also, it’s heavily implied that Elijah didn’t tell Katherine a plan he had to keep Klaus from sacrificing her and basically told her to trust him- something Katherine had zero idea how to. Once she fled, as any normal human would, and escaped, Klaus killed her entire family. Klaus also left their corpses so she would see the gruesome death they suffered. Once again, giving her more PTSD. The man she loved, Elijah, betrayed her. I’ll touch on Elijah again later.

Then, she was on the run for nearly four hundred years. Not getting close to anyone or anything and got used to basically being the most primal version of her vampiric self. Enough to make anyone a little unhinged and unaware of how to behave compassionately. However, she met Stefan and at first I do believe saw him as a plaything, but it quickly became more. I think Stefan sparked something in Katherine she hadn’t felt in a long time. Do I think Stefan loved Katherine? I don’t know. I do know; however, Damon did not love Katherine. Damon was obsessed and in love with the idea of her. I think the same could also be said about Stefan, but a different delusion. Stefan said she was an angel, which we all know is untrue. Damon saw the darker parts of her, which I also think isn’t fair. Neither one completely take hold of Katherine. Everything she does is out of survival. Not selfishness, though her actions are selfish and self-serving. Those two statements can exist together. Also, do I think Katherine compelled Stefan’s love? Absolutely not. Do I think she took away his ability to decide to look past her being a vampire and that caused resentment when he became one? Absolutely. Stefan is a man that likes to make his own choices, and he was robbed of it. I, also, think he had the most complicated feelings about her than anyone on the show. He hated to love her, because he thinks by loving her he is agreeing with her actions. I’ll touch on her and Damon more later.

Sadly, Katherine’s past caught up to her and she had to leave her home, which was Mystical Falls, again. Once again, the loneliness crept in, turning her even more sour.

Now, to the part of the show where it’s in present day. She’s the villain... but is she really? Or is she working for and a pawn to the bigger badder villain? She was just trying to stay alive, which is a basic human instinct. She had no reason to care about Caroline or Bonnie or really, Elena. Especially when her doppelganger has the man she “loves”. Once again, I think Katherine has a Damon like mentality with Stefan. It’s not love, it’s obsession and possessiveness. “If I can’t have Stefan, no one can.” You don’t talk about someone you truly love like that. She fixated on him because loving him made her feel like a better person and if he loved her back, she could be redeemed. She said it herself.

With turning Caroline and her plan to use her as the vampire in the sacrifice, it was harsh. I won’t defend it further than she saw her as a pawn. BUT, even Caroline herself has said that since that day she has been a better person. Tyler agrees that becoming a werewolf made him a better person, too. She even admitted to liking Matt from the get-go. So, who’s really a victim? The only one really is Jeremy and Elena. I genuinely believe that Katherine doesn’t like Gilbert men (which is odd because it’s a trend) and it’s painfully obvious that she is jealous of Elena. I’ll make another post about that soon. But, lets face it, Katherine could’ve easily killed Elena. She’s killed so many people I stopped keeping track, so why was Elena so hard? (Because she’s the protagonist, lol) but also, one could argue that Katherine’s heart was never truly in it. All of her plans involved time, something she knows the gang can fight against. She’s known as the smartest villain on the show (that didn’t get their own spinoff).

Let’s talk hypocrisy now- mostly with Damon and Caroline. First, Damon has done worse deeds than Katherine. He killed an entire family linage for years, turned Bonnie’s mom, killed Jeremy, mentally/physically/and yes, sexually abused Caroline most of season one, killed uncle Zach, killed Vicki, killed Lexi, compelled a woman to date him and basically made her Caroline 2.O. But, he got a redemption arch... why? I’m adding that he killed Tyler fucking Lockwood Caroline’s list almost feels slight next to Damon’s but it proves a different point- First, everything she did when her humanity was turned off. Second, slept with the guy who once tried to kill her best friend and did kill her ex’s mom(Klaus)... while still wanting said ex back. Don’t get me wrong, I love Caroline, but seriously? She’s going to give Niklaus Mikaelson a break, but not Katherine Pierce? Because she turned her? Klaus killed aunt Jenna!

Now that we’ve talked about what happened to Katherine and most of what she did wrong, let’s talk about the times she was actually selfless. Remember when I said I’d touch on her feelings for Damon and Elijah?

First, Katherine Pierce’s main goal is to survive, yet she risked that by giving Damon the cure for werewolf venom. “It’s okay to love them both, I did.” I think she loved Damon, but was never in love with him. She went out of her way to save him. She could’ve kept the cure for herself, but then Damon would be dead. Also, she stopped Damon from killing Mikael because she knew it would kill him.

And her relationship with Elijah always proves to me to be the most heartbreaking of all her relationships, besides Nadia. She gave him the cure, her only bargaining chip, to prove to him she was loyal. She could’ve used it against Klaus and ended things once and for all. He’s also the only man she’s seen to respect and love. She never once manipulated him. In my opinion, that was the only man she ever truly loved and he chose his brother over her. Another piece of her already fragile humanity gone.

She was also constantly saving Stefan. She got into the safe with him when he could’ve killed her... when her main goal throughout the series is to stay alive. She saved him from Mikael/Klaus. You could say she saved both brothers from their father.

Also, she only died in season five because she wanted to be there for Nadia. Which, proved to her traumatized mind, that love was a weakness and the enemy. I’ve said it on my twitter and I’ll say it here: The Salvatore Brothers got what was coming to them in season eight. Then again, though, I could be bias... I’m not a fan of either.

So, did I miss anything? I’m sure I did, but this is long enough, lol.

#katherine pierce #katherine petrova #katerina petrova #katerina pierce #the vampire diaries #tvd #anti damon salvatore #anti elena gilbert #slightly #obviously this is opinion #warning: opinions

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plethora-of-imagines · 4 years

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Can Never Escape Her Love

AN: I’m back from finals. I don’t currently have anything else written but more things will follow without over 2 weeks passing by now that I have more time. This is a darker fic, so please read the warnings!

Word Count: 3868

Warnings: very very light suggestive/citrus, manipulation, thought monitoring, suicide idealization, self harm/suicide attempt, unhealthy relationship

Description: She reminds you so much of your Doctor that you ache. There is only one way to escape her now.

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings (let me know if you want me to keep you on the list for everything O!)

Warm arms found their way around your waist, pulling you closer to a warm body. Your entire being relaxed as you bleary opened your eyes to try and see who it was. Mhhh it was the Doctor, or at least you think it was. You were too tried to open your eyes fully but the strong arms around you had to belong to the Doctor. Who else could they belong to? You felt safe and warm. Must be the Doctor. She was the only one who made you feel so completely content like this.

"Doc," your voice was sleepy as you nuzzled further into her embrace.

Of all the wonders of the universe being in her arms was your favorite. If it was possible you would never leave her embrace.

"Hmm suppose I can overlook you calling me Doc right now. You're practically still asleep. And you're so pliant and cuddly."

You drifted off not really registering her words. Her hands were working to soothe you, rubbing circles into your skin and brushing through your hair. It was nice and sleep came back to you with ease.

You woke up completely relaxed on top of someone's body. You didn't remember falling asleep in someone's arms. So who were you laying on top of? Your face scrunched up in confusion but your body stayed practically boneless. You were too comfortable to ruin it by tensing up at the moment.

"Good morning treasure," she made the word treasure sound like a possessive caress.

Your entire body stiffened to the point that you were shaking. It was her. Why wouldn't she leave you alone? You hated it when she took advantage of the fact that she reminded you so much of the Doctor. Your Doctor, who you missed with your whole being. So much that at times you physically ached.

Her hand pressed forcefully against your temple. Your body went slack becoming putty that she could mold to her desires. You hated it. Yet your body refused to listen to your mind and remained responseless to your internal struggle to try and move away. Even worse was that you were starting to get used to her manipulating your body telepathically.

At least she left your thoughts alone, for the most part. She would get angry sometimes at your thoughts but she never tried to stop you from thinking. It was unavoidable that she would get angry when she was almost constantly in your head. You knew what she wanted more than anything else. She wanted you to love her of your own free will. She didn’t mind manipulating situations to bring you closer to thinking of her fondly, but she would never manipulate your thoughts to make you think you loved her.

It was her only redeeming quality. That and her unwillingness to cause you any physical pain.

"There we go. All relaxed again. Isn't this better treasure?"

She brought your face up for a kiss. It was a soft and sweet kiss. The kind that you had loved receiving from the Doctor during the rare sleepy mornings where she was content to stay still for a while. Now it made your heartache.

You felt sick. This woman that had replaced the Doctor in your life was much more content to stay still and hold you in her embrace. To do any of the things you had yearned for. But all you wanted was your Doctor back. All fast pace, never staying still. Always on the move to see the next new wonder the universe had to offer.

A small noise from the TARDIS stole her attention. Her face scrunched up at whatever she had been told. Even the way her face scrunched was identical. It wasn’t fair. She was so similar yet so very frighteningly different. You had lost count of the people she had killed.

"It appears we have an uninvited guest. Let's go greet them shall we?"

She pulled you out of bed with her, changing from holding you in her arms to holding your hand with ease. You had no opportunity to escape her grasp. At this point, you never bothered to struggle. She wasn’t against overpowering you in order to keep you where she wanted you. It wasn’t worth the effort.

"Don't bother with getting dressed my treasure. They won't be here long," the growl in her voice spoke of danger and death for whoever had dared to interrupt her time in bed with you.

You let her pull you out of the room still wearing only the lingerie she had forced you into the day before. Perhaps forced was the wrong word, coerced would be better. She loved to give you the illusion of choice. You could put on the white, frilly lingerie she had chosen for you, or she could destroy the next planet the TARDIS landed on. You had chosen to put it on.

The lingerie gave you a pure, angelic look. It also embarrassed you immensely to be seen in it, even if just by her. Which was probably one of the reasons she had you wear it. While she wanted you to be comfortable she wanted you to not be able to leave more. You were a lot less likely to try and escape the TARDIS if you would be doing so in lingerie. It was an added incentive to stay in the TARDIS, to stay with her.

Not that the TARDIS would open her doors to even give you the chance to escape. The TARDIS had made it clear that she would side with her and not you. The most the TARDIS would do for you now was make a comforting sound while you cried. Of course, that was only until she was able to reach you to comfort you. Having been told by the TARDIS that you were upset. Constantly monitored by both the living ship and the woman who owned her.

The doors to the TARDIS opened to let this "guest" in the moment the two of you entered the console room. Another thing that had stayed the same in design but was so very different.

The console room had always been warm when the Doctor was here. It had been rare for the room to reflect anger or despair. Now it was always darkly lit up in red, a sign of the woman’s anger with the universe. The only bright spot in the darkness of the room was where you stood. You were always bathed in light when you entered the room. It made you feel uncomfortable to be under this- this spotlight. She always poetically compared it to you being the only star in the vast, harshness of space. You were the only light in her universe. She would do anything to keep you in her orbit. It scared you to think of the atrocities she would commit to keep you close.

You could feel the stare of this "guest" on you as you keep your eyes on the floor. It felt strange to have someone else's eyes on you. You had been isolated for so long. Looking into the eyes of whoever she was about to kill was all you could do for them now. They deserved that much from you. It had been a very long time since you had tried to get her to spare someone. There was no chance of her letting whoever had dared to get this close to the TARDIS and try to get inside live. When you finally forced yourself to look up you couldn't contain yourself from your joyous exclamation.

"Jack!"

He could help you! He could end this living nightmare of being loved by this twisted facsimile of the Doctor.

"Well don't you look like an angel from the heavens!"

You blushed at his overly flirtatious tone. For a moment you had forgotten you were standing before him in nothing but frilly lingerie. You had been so happy to see someone who could help you leave that you had forgotten you weren’t alone. That was a mistake. You could practically hear the sneer she made.

She wasn't happy to see him. In fact, he may have made her even less pleased with his existence by openly flirting with you. Something you wouldn’t have thought possible before this moment.

"I suggest you keep your eyes to yourself unless you want me to rip them out and keep them in a jar."

"Oof. I had heard you changed Doc but I didn't quite believe it,” how Jack could keep his tone light and casual was beyond you.

You felt the blood drain from your face at the look she gave him. She hated being called Doctor. She had killed people for even implying she was the Doctor. She only tolerated you calling her Doctor because she loved you. She saw your confusion as unavoidable. She was still kind to you, only to you. Always conscientious of your comfort and safety. Of course, you would struggle to understand that the Doctor was dead and gone when she showered you in kindness, love, and affection just like the Doctor had- before she had been destroyed. They even looked the same, well except for the hair.

She had let the Doctor’s hair grow out from its short bob. The length leading past her shoulders, ending just above her chest. Something had happened to it to change it from its bright sunny blond to a dull brunette. You didn’t think she dyed it? But you had no idea how else the color could have changed. She hadn’t regenerated. Her body was still the same as when she had been your Doctor. Something that made your life so much harder and brought you so much grief. How could you look at her with hate when she looked like the person you had loved most in the universe?

"Jack... you've made a mistake coming to bother me. I might have left you alone. You're such an eyesore, I would have preferred to ignore your continued existence,” her voice was scathing as she ranted. At times her words could burn someone before she had the chance to burn their skin. “But no. You had to come and harass me."

The TARDIS doors closed with a slam that made you jump. She moved with quick precision around the console. Leaving you to stand alone bathed in light. She was methodical and efficient. There was no whimsical flair to her piloting now. You were terrified to know where she was bringing you. How she planned to kill Jack. She would kill Jack- it was as fixed a decision as he was a fixed point in time.

You looked at Jack to plead with him to leave. He needed to leave before she killed him. He had a vortex manipulator, he had a chance of escaping! The words died in your throat. His eyes were stern and set. Nothing would change his mind on whatever he had planned. You had to hope that she didn't find a way to kill him permanently. If anyone could end his immortality it would be her.

The TARDIS materialized.

With a snap of her fingers, the doors threw themselves open. The TARDIS was in the vacuum of space. Empty except for the light of distant stars. It must have been longer than you thought it had been since you had looked out into pure space. There was a hazy glow near the bottom of the door that you couldn’t remember seeing before. While it would be a horrible way to die- out in the vacuum of space. There was still a chance that Jack could be picked up by a roaming spaceship soon. If for some reason he couldn’t rely on his vortex manipulator. It was too much to hope that she would neglect to take care of it before she left him for certain death numerous times over.

Jack didn’t even look behind him to see what was outside the open doors.

“Smart choice to not turn your back on me. I would have stabbed you in the back before throwing you out into the star the TARDIS is above.”

Oh. That was why you could see a bright haze. It was a star. You tried not to think about what that could mean for Jack.

“I wonder, dear Jack if your mind will still be intact in thousands of years when this star finally dies and you can remain alive for more than a few moments?”

She didn’t let the two of you avoid thinking about what she was going to do. She stalked towards him until her face was mere inches from his. Gripping his arm, nails digging into his vortex manipulator and skin. His skin bleed from the punctures she caused before she tore his vortex manipulator off and threw it out into the star below.

“Can’t leave you with that cheating bit of tech. Don’t worry if your mind is still there when I come back to check on your mental state! I will have thought of a better way to permanently get rid of you by then.”

Jack didn’t break eye contact with you throughout the whole encounter. He stared into your eyes. Expression grim. You nodded as subtly as you could. If she had any idea of what the two of you were planing, what you were agreeing to she would put a stop to it. You understood. There was only one escape left for you.

In the moments that she threw him out of the TARDIS into the star below he acted. He pulled the gun out of nowhere. It didn’t matter to you where it had been kept. All that mattered was giving him a clear shot at you. It had to be quick. You took serval steps forward. Careful to move in a predictable way so that he didn’t mess up the shot. The noise of the gun firing was strangely quiet in comparison to her scream when she realized that you were going to be shot.

She was moving towards you before you even felt the bullet pierce your skin. You almost didn’t feel it enter your side.

Your side.

He missed.

He MISSED.

HE MISSED.

He missed.

You were dying but that wasn’t good enough. If you were still alive then she wouldn’t let you die. She wouldn’t let you escape her like this. She would never let you leave her. Jack had failed to kill you. You wouldn’t get to escape with his help. You likely would never get an opportunity to escape again.

She rushed over to you where you laid on the console room floor. You could see the golden glow beginning underneath the surface of her skin. You tried to thrash away from her. Even going as far as to try and press near the wound to try and get your blood to leave your body faster. You needed to die before she stopped you! It was hopeless to think you would succeed but you had to try.

You couldn’t get away. Her arms tightened around you. It hurt but it was very effective in stopping you from struggling. Pulling you into her embrace she shifted you so that she could hold you still with one arm. This was why you normally never fought her. She was so much stronger than you. The golden glow moved to the surface of her skin, reaching out. Like it was sentient, aching to be released.

A single hand hovered over the gunshot wound. The golden tendrils leaping from her hand to your skin. It reminded you of stardust trying to form into a new star. The skin it caressed welded itself back together as if it had never been harmed.

Her hovering hand pressed into the open wound bringing a strangled, pained noise passed your lips. She didn’t hesitate to shove her hand into your body. Your vision went white with the pain you were in. You didn’t even try to hold back your screams. She hated it when you were hurt so maybe your screams would stop this torture.

“Shhhh. Sh. Sh. Shhh,” she shushed you as she wiggled her fingers around inside of you. “I know it hurts but it will be over soon treasure. I just need to get the bullet out of you before I make it all better.”

Her fingers stopped moving around wildly inside of you. Once they had stilled she began to slowly remove her hand from inside of your side. You wanted her to hurry up and remove her hand. It hurt! Everything hurt! You just wanted this to be over.

Your body went limp in her arms once her hand was resting over top of your wound. You hadn’t even realized that your body had been tensed until it no longer was.

The soft glow of her hands as they healed you felt nice. It still burned but not as intensely as having her hand inside of your body had. In comparison, the burning of your cells as they regrew was relaxing.

“There we go all better.”

The kiss she pressed against your side where the wound had been would have made you smile if she was still your Doctor. You were so tired that you couldn’t find anything in yourself but indifference at the action. It was a blessing to not be missing the Doctor at the moment. A part of you knew that you should still be upset that your last hope of escape had failed. But you were so tired that you just didn't care. You just wanted to sleep.

“Let’s get you to the medbay so you can rest treasure.”

Rising off the floor with you in her arms she carried you out of the console room and down the hall. The TARDIS didn't bother to move the room closer. You were completely healed and in no current danger of dying so there was no need. The further away you were from the TARDIS’s doors the better in both of their minds. You almost drifted off to sleep in her arms before she spoke.

“As much as I hate him Jack has pointed out something very important to me,” she dipped her head to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You are too vulnerable. Even if I were to keep you in my arms for eternity there would still be a risk of you dying. The whole universe is my enemy now and they will eventually kill you.”

She kicked the door to the medbay open. Gently. You supposed she had entered your mind to know how exhausted you were and didn’t want to make too much noise and disturb you. She carried you over to a soft bed laying you down with care. You were so tired, so tired. Was this what the Doctor had felt like after regenerating? You understood now why she had passed out in the middle of a crisis. You felt like you could pass out any minute now. She tucked you in and you were almost grateful. The warmth was a comfort to your sore and cold body.

“You could die so easily. I’ve lost so many people,” her voice sounded haunted, it sent a chill down your spine.

She noticed and tucked you in more securely. Moving to grab something from a nearby cabinet. You thought perhaps another blanket but she seemed empty-handed when she came back. Maybe she just needed a moment to try and compose herself. You were too tied to care that much.

“One day I’m going to lose you. To old age, at someone else’s hands,” her voice cracked as if at any moment tears would spill from her eyes.

You hadn’t known she was capable of crying anymore. You did your best to not let it inspire sympathy from you. She had committed so many atrocities. Destroyed more planets than the Master ever had. You couldn’t let yourself feel bad for her. But you were so tired and she reminded you so much of your Doctor.

“Unless I make you like me -timeless- I will lose you too.”

The cruel smile she gave you was your only warning. She probably thought it was reassuring. Moving quick as a viper she injected something into you. It felt cold. Like ice freezing you in place. You wanted more than anything to throw yourself off the bed and run far away into the heart of the TARDIS. But you couldn’t move an inch. Your breath hitched. You were at her mercy and she didn’t have any.

“Small temporary paralysis drug. I need to keep you still so I can work.”

“Please. Please Val-,” you choked down the sobs that desperately wanted to escape as you realized what she was going to do to you. “Valeyard. Don’t do this to me. I don’t want this. Please. I- I- I don’t want this.”

Sobs left your body. Had you been capable of moving you would have been shaking with the intensity of your cries. She was going to make you immortal like her. Completely timeless. You would never escape her. You would never die. She tenderly brushed your hair away from your face. Wiping away your tears for a few moments. Your tears didn’t stop, they just kept spilling from your eyes.

“Normally I would give you anything you desired in the universe my treasure. I would never refuse you anything. Except this. The only thing I refuse to give you. A way to leave me.”

She pulled away so that she could get what she needed so that you would be with her forever. You tried with all your might to move. To flee this fate. Nothing changed- you were still frozen to the spot. The gold color of the syringe she brought over was so bright it was blinding. Like looking into the sun.

“While it may not be a gift you want right now you’ll thank me for it eventually. You’ll never age. Never die!” She was trying to reassure you but all that you felt was growing dread as more tears streamed down your face. “You won’t even have to deal with a face change. I wouldn’t make you suffer through an identity crisis like that my treasure.”

Once it was injected into your veins you felt violently sick. Your insides twisted to the point that you were sure that her hands were inside you again. Twisting your organs to wring out the liquid they held. You screamed in pain. Everything hurt. Everything burned! You just wanted it to stop!

The Valeyard lifted you up from the bed, slipping in behind you. Holding you and trying to comfort you with her touch. You couldn’t hear her voice over your screams but it didn’t matter the Valeyard just spoke into your mind instead. Soft coos and sweet words meant to comfort you.

Everything was okay. Nothing would ever hurt you again. She would love you forever, her dear treasure.

You would never be able to escape her now.

#valeyard!13 x reader #13th doctor x reader

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pastelbrachypelma · 4 years

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All right, I just watched Hazbin Hotel.

So that means it’s AU time! Hazbin Hotel/Sly Cooper AU/Crossover, anyone? Here’s what I’m thinking so far.

Carmelita is a fox demon, similar to a kitsune, with electricity powers replacing the usual fire powers kitsune seem to have by association. In life, she was a policewoman who played too many dirty cards one too many times and ended up a demon in hell. She deeply regrets her life choices and wants to redeem herself by fighting other powerful demons and overlords to prove that she was always a “good cop.” (I’m basing this off of the idea that cops aren’t actually good Bcs of corrupt systems, so I’d imagine Carmelita feels bad for backing other cops when she could’ve spoken up, or taking hush money to stay quiet...stuff like that.) She’s about a level 5 or 6 demon, so the other overlords usually run her out of their territories. But she’s set her sights on a small gang of demons who have claimed a sizable territory for themselves.

Sly, also known as “The Ringtail Demon,” was a master thief in life. After completing many exciting heists, he was killed in a fight with one of his father’s men. There are rumors in hell that he is responsible for his gang taking over so much land and always able to hold onto it in the turf war. He’s generally considered to be annoying by other demons, particularly wealthier demons, as he and his gang are still happy to commit heists in the afterlife. Sly is actually quite a powerful demon, as his ancestry of thieves gave his soul something of an extra power boost as it entered hell, but it’s unknown exactly how powerful he is, and to what extent, because he hides his powers from pretty much everyone.

Bentley and Murray are lower level demons, who ostensibly work for Sly, though Sly considers them more friends than lackeys. Bentley forged documents in order to make it appear as if he had multiple degrees in life, until he was shot by a jealous ex, and Murray led a life similar to Angel Dust until he was killed for being queer. It’s unclear if even they know the true extent of Sly’s powers, though they probably have a better idea than most.

Carmelita, in doing research on Sly, discovers something that the Ringtail Demon would rather keep under wraps: that his family gained their wealth and reputation not only by stealing from other thieves, but by being Robin Hood, helping out poorer communities and stealing from large corporations. Obviously, she wants to convince him to “go straight” with her, and try to Rise to redemption. But Sly is just having way too much fun being a thief in Hell.

I’ve got some ideas for Sly’s powers. Definitely heightened agility, which he shows off often, and invisibility. I’m also playing with the idea of him having some sort of time manipulation powers, though I’m thinking those are more fitting for Vox, or a camera demon. (I was laughing to myself imagining Sly going, “hold on, back up,” and twirling his finger to make time rewind, have Carmelita repeat herself and then go, “hey! I just said that! 😡” Though I think I want his powers to focus more on thief stuff, like from the Thevius Raccoonus.)

I also want Sly to have some inner conflict, because his soul is sort of torn between heaven and hell, due to many of his actions being more chaotic good than outright evil. Maybe using his “true demon form” makes him feel some kinda way; perhaps ill, or maybe it gives him the unnatural hunger that you might expect from an overlord like Alastor (I.e. cannibalism)? But if he’s “too good,” then that also hurts him, because his soul can’t fully Rise due to him technically belonging in hell due to his past, and his ancestors’ pasts.

Not everyone in the Cooper family were Robin Hoods, after all. And now, Sly carries the burden of their sins...

#personal #sly cooper #sly cooper au #sly x hazbin #hazbin hotel #demon!sly #demon!carmelita #demon!bentley #demon!murray

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snarkybluechristian · 4 years

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Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 37

Meanwhile, Angel sat in his cage struggling against his straitjacket, hoping and praying he could find some flaw in its design that he could take advantage of to escape. But no matter what he tried, Angel could not break free from his restraints.

Angel finally leaned back against the bars of the cage and let out a deep sigh. He didn’t notice the red smoke seep under the emergency exit door and push it open from the other side.

“Fuck,” Angel muttered to himself. “Vaggie, please hold on. I hope you’re doing okay…”

“I’d be more worried about what I’m going to do to you once we get back to the studio, Angel Cakes,” an all-too-familiar voice interrupted.

Angel felt his heart stop as he turned his head towards the source of the voice.

To his terror, Angel saw Valentino walking towards him and swinging the keys with his driver and bodyguard following behind him.

“Val?!” Angel yelled in terror and surprise.

“You thought I would let Alastor take you away from me?” Valentino replied with a scoff. “You know better than to underestimate me, dear.”

Angel felt his heart drop into his feet as Valentino approached his cage.

“But I thought…” Angel said at almost a whisper.

Valentino leaned against the cage door, flicked his tongue over his teeth, and said with a wide grin, “That’s a sexy look for you, Angel Cakes. A straitjacket really suits you, especially considering your behavior lately. When we get back to the studio, we will have lots of new films with you in that straitjacket.”

Valentino stuck one key in the keyhole and attempted to unlock the cage. When that didn’t work, he tried the other one and got the door open.

Angel shook himself out of his fearful stupor and stammered, “I…I can’t go back with you.”

Valentino grabbed Angel’s cheeks and squeezed hard while snarling, “Do you think you have a damn choice!”

“You lost the auction and my soul!” Angel said through Valentino’s grip.

“Our contract still remains, Angie,” Valentino said, yanking off Angel’s muzzle with one hand and holding him dangling above the ground with the other. “Only Lucifer himself could break it. Overlord or not, Alastor cannot get in the way of that.”

Then without a word, Valentino dropped Angel on the ground with a thud.

Valentino then stepped back, tossed the keys to his bodyguard, and motioned for his servants, “Get him into the limo and make sure he doesn’t scream that much.”

Angel coughed out loud as he tried to get himself off the floor. He knew this moment would come. He had been avoiding work and Val for a few weeks before this. Vaggie was right. Angel had changed and Valentino and his bullshit were something he didn’t want to be a part of anymore. Angel knew he had to speak up now. No matter what the consequences were.

So, as the two henchmen were sitting Angel up and unlocking the shackles on his feet, Angel looked at Valentino determinedly and said, “No, Val! I’m not gonna…”

“You’re not to speak, Angie,” Valentino interrupted.

One of the henchmen shoved a thick ball of cloth into Angel’s mouth and tied the gag around his face.

Angel shook his head desperately trying to get the gag out of his mouth while the other henchman finished removing the shackles from Angel’s feet.

“Walk Angel to the car,” Valentino instructed as the henchmen got Angel to his feet. “And be quick about…HEY!”

Angel took his chance. As soon as the shackles were unlocked and he was on his feet, he bolted across the room and away from Valentino and his henchmen. He ran down the hallway towards the ballroom, hoping to get Alastor's attention.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the hallway, Molly and Vaggie burst out of the room with the tentacles and shut and locked the door behind them. They leaned against the wall for a moment, panting for breath. Their clothes were ripped, and their hair was disheveled, but besides that, they had emerged unscathed. They had made it.

“You okay, toots?” Molly asked with an exhausted smile.

“Yeah,” Vaggie replied with an exhausted smile of her own. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“It’s nothin’,” Molly replied. “I know what it’s like to be pushed around by men with large egos. I’m always glad to help another girl out. But I’d be lyin’ to say I couldn’t use your help with Angel. I know this is risky, but we have to get him out of here…”

Vaggie held up her hand and said, “You don’t need to ask. I’ll do it.”

Molly replied with a smile briefly before they heard running from the other side of the hallway.

Before Vaggie and Molly even had much time to think about what they had just heard, they turned around to see Angel running in a straitjacket and moaning into a gag.

Upon seeing his sister and his friend, Angel stopped in his tracks and gave out a “Mmph?!” of surprise.

The trio spent a second looking at each other in surprise before Molly noticed the smoke behind Angel’s head, grabbed Vaggie’s hand, and made them both disappear.

“Angel, get over here! It’s behind you,” Molly cried as quietly as she could while Vaggie took a moment to be surprised at her newly invisible state.

“Mmph!” Angel moaned in agreement.

Angel ran forward to reach Vaggie and his sister, but unfortunately, Valentino’s smoke grabbed Angel by his hair and dragged him back into the prop room.

The smoke pulled Angel back to Valentino who promptly slapped him across the face.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Valentino snarled before picking up Angel by his hair. “What do you think Alastor would do to you or me if he saw you in the ballroom?! You should be thanking me, you stupid slut! I’m getting you out of this dump and back in my bed where you belong! Besides, from what I remember, you hate your family.”

Valentino then dropped Angel on the ground again and began dragging him to the limo by the collar of his straitjacket while his henchmen followed behind.

The henchmen opened the door while Valentino unceremoniously dragged Angel out to the cobblestoned parking lot. One henchman bolted to the limo at the other side of the lot while the other one walked behind Angel and Valentino.

Angel, desperately angry and desperate to buy time for Molly and Vaggie, finally managed to spit out the cloth in his mouth and yelled, “I hate you more!”

Valentino scoffed and said, “When we get back to the studio, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for months.”

Seeing that that didn't make Valentino stop his gait, Angel quickly thought of another insult, "Yeah, right. You can't even satisfy that TV boyfriend of yours."

Valentino finally stopped in his tracks, and Angel braced himself for the beating he thought was coming as he heard the limo pull up in front of them.

But instead, Valentino dropped Angel onto the ground with a scoff and said, “I know what you’re trying to do, darling, and it won’t work.”

The bodyguard stuffed the gag back into Angel’s mouth and tightened the knot around Angel’s head.

Valentino effortlessly picked Angel up, held him in front of his face, and said, “What is the matter with you, Angie? You should be thrilled. You get to go back home with me where you belong, away from the nasty people who made your life so miserable. You don’t need to worry. Despite everything you put me through, I plan on treating you well and keeping you safely tucked away until all this drama blows over.”

The bodyguard opened the door to the limo. Angel then felt a slight breeze behind him as if someone dashed into the car behind him and briefly glanced behind him.

Valentino sighed sadly and said, “Honestly, Angie, I don’t know what has gotten into you lately. Has that princess been putting redeeming ideas into your head? Is that why you have been avoiding me, my calls, and my texts? You were never this defiant before. It’s like you’ve forgotten how good I’ve been to you. Can’t we all just go home and forget this never happened?”

Angel breathed into his gag and allowed himself to do something he had never done during his entire stay in hell. Angel allowed himself to glare defiantly straight into Valentino’s eyes.

That look told Valentino everything he needed to know.

Valentino sighed deeply and tossed Angel onto the floor of the limo. Valentino climbed in and shut the door, and the limo began speeding away from the house.

Angel groaned into his gag as he helplessly felt the car moving under him.

Meanwhile, Valentino crawled over to the window between the back seat and the front seat and knocked on the window.

The window quickly rolled down and one of the henchmen handed Valentino a syringe filled with an unknown liquid.

Valentino uncovered the syringe and prepared it for injection.

Upon seeing the syringe, Angel began desperately kicking his legs to keep Valentino away.

Valentino tried to navigate between the legs, but the kicking kept him back.

“I am sick and tired of your bullshit, Angel!” Valentino growled.

“Ffffmmmph mmmmmmph!!!” Angel snarled back through his gag.

Valentino finally jumped on top of Angel, using his second pair of arms to pin Angel’s kicking legs down.

Angel tried to shake Valentino off, but the moth demon laid on top of Angel and finally managed to inject the serum into Angel’s neck.

“Mmrph!” Angel moaned into his gag as he felt his senses fading.

“There, that’s better, Valentino said, recovering the syringe and stuffing it into the pocket of his coat. “Now, we can both relax.”

Valentino then climbed off Angel, placed the helpless spider demon’s head into his lap, and began stroking it while telling him all the wonderful plans he had waiting for him once they got home.

“Oh, Angel, you won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll keep you locked away in your dressing room for the next 100 years. I’ll put a TV in there and one of those handheld gaming things that Vox always talks about. You won’t even miss going outside…”

Angel blinked his eyes, slowly losing movement of his limbs.

Molly and Vaggie sat near the door of the limo invisibly and helplessly. They wanted to act, but they knew that they couldn’t move until they were farther away from Alastor’s house. So, they sat there and prayed for a miracle as the car drove on.

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bluebellwriting · 3 years

Text

Love Me Tender Part 1

An Alastor x Chubby!Reader in which you are Angel Dust’s older sister

“He’s a lost cause, (Y/N),” Arackniss had groaned.

“He’s our baby brother, you prick. Besides, I’m getting a little sick of mob-business. I need a break.”

“Dad’s not gonna like that. You’re his favorite.”

“Just tell dad I say hi and that I’ll see him for family dinner.” You slammed the phone down.

Alastor makes his way over to the lounging spider and gives him a curious smile.

“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick.” Oh dear Lord, who raised this creature? It takes everything within Alastor not to cringe and to keep his smile up.

“Ha! No.” Angel shrugs then points a finger towards the closed kitchen door.

He leans down slightly but makes sure to tower over you still, and grabs one of your hands before you even know what’s going on.

“(Y/N). Very nice to meet you, sir.”

“Sir! Why I haven’t been called that since, well, since the last time I had a wretched soul cowering before me!” He laughs hysterically and you shiver at the thought.

The smell of cooked chocolate invades your nostrils, and you briefly wonder if saving your cake is worth turning your back to this man. He seems to decide for you.

When you’re finally done you whip around and glare at him.

The radio continues to play as the song finishes

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x chubby!reader #they say write the stories you want to see

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