#what the actual fuck is Alastair

[bardnuts]

who wants to see a WIZARD FIGHT

his name is buffkin.

[amorremanet]

“why do people simp for bai wuxiang”

because i’m a terrible person and his scenes with xie lian hit me in the same good good place as hannigram, shendak, peter/scott, and dean/alastair, which i think is very sexy of him, next question

[bemtevis]

hate to say it but matthew's bearable in this book

[thecharacterchronicler]

The Bitter Taste Of My Fury (Part 4) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut

GIF is not mine, credits to the creator/owner ❤️

Outline: After a vicious attack from the rebels, Coriolanus lets some of his true feelings for you show.

Word count: 5’133

Warnings: death, murder, PTSD and explicit smut.

Author’s note: I wrote this forever ago and can’t seem to be 100% satisfied with it for some reason, I’m feeling awfully self conscious putting this out so please have mercy on me.

I made a few changes to the original story so that it would fit with my fanfic. (Making the quarter quell for which they sent two boys and two girls the 25th one instead of the 50th so that Coriolanus and his wife’s ages would fit into my plot.) I tried to make it readable as a one shot but keep in mind that it’s actually part of a multi-part series if you need/want more context.

It would help me out a lot with my next WIPs if you could answer the poll down below 🖤

((Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler)) - ((Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top)) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable))

Coriolanus risked a glance from behind the black curtain to survey the large amphitheater quickly - and noisily - filling up. It was his last speech before the day of the election, his last opportunity to convince the people of Panem that he would be a good president. He had been working on his text for weeks, the last few days he had even stayed up all night to practice and memorize it to the point that the words were constantly turning in his head. He was nervous and, even if he usually was pretty good at hiding it - he felt like all the citizens taking place in the room to listen to him would notice how much he was afraid of messing up.

“You’re supposed to go on stage in five minutes.” Minerva said, Coriolanus’s young assistant was stressed out, as per usual. “Excuse me Sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that your wife isn’t here… Yet ?”

The last time Coriolanus had seen you, you both got into an argument which ended with him, fucking you rougher than what he ever allowed himself to until then. Once he was done with you, you still seemed upset with him and the reason of the dispute still grated on his nerves. For the three following days, he had spent his nights at his office. He had been mulling over what your strong feelings about such a futile matter might mean. He had expected you to be unhappy with his decision to fire Marius, your driver, but he hadn’t thought you’d be so vocal about it, even daring to demand that he be rehired. He had fired a lot of his employees in the past and you had never complained about it once, but your personal driver seemed more important to you than all the others… Was it because you had an affair with him ? Was he the one to provide you with comfort and attention whenever Coriolanus worked late ? And what if he was the one who ended up getting you pregnant ? Surely he couldn’t accept that. His heir needed to be his.

“I sent Alastair to get her an hour ago, they should arrive any minute now.” He replied, his tone unexpectedly soft in contrast to his growing irritation. But he had faith that his own driver would drag you out of the manor himself if you refused to attend such an important event for your husband.

Coriolanus glanced in the amphitheater once again, scanning the crowd in search of your familiar face but still didn’t find it. He tugged on his collar, feeling more stressed than ever before. He knew every word to his speech, he knew exactly how to behave, how to move, how to smile to win this once and for all and yet, beads of nervous sweat were forming on his forehead, his tie suddenly too constricting for his rapid breathing.

When Minerva waved a hand at him, he had no choice but to take his place at the center of the stage, even if he still hadn’t spotted you among the crowd. It was unlikely of you to be late. And even less likely that his driver would be late… The applause and cheers from his audience as he walked out from behind the black curtain almost made him forget about it all though. For a brief moment, he felt the adrenaline buzzing in his body, making him believe that he was capable of anything and proving yet again that his place was there, on stage, at the center of everyone’s admirative attention.

He smiled, waved, spotted a few influential people seating in the first rows and made sure to make eye contact with each of them as he started his speech. His best one.

But no matter how perfect his tone was, how carefully chosen his words were, the crowd slowly began to grow agitated. A few heads turned to take a look at the doors, some noise coming from behind them and before he could even fathom what had happened, an intense blow pushed him back, making his ears ring.

The loud explosion made the foundations of the ampitheater tremble, windows shattered, pieces of the ceiling came crushing to the ground but the chaos that followed was by far the scariest part. People screamed in terror, rushing in every direction to get out, pushing and stepping over each other with no decorum left, the crowd had turned into a bunch of frightened animals and they all were individually fighting for their lives.

A door was opened and a thick dark smoke rapidly filled the room, making everyone cough and scream louder. Coriolanus pulled his collar over his mouth and nose, trying to filter the smoke he’d inhale and retreated behind the black curtain, knowing there would be a door for him to escape much more easily there, out of the frenzy and chaos of the crowd.

He rushed to the back, fleeing by the concealed door while his people kept fighting to escape the suffocating smoke. He looked around, trying to get his thoughts back in order to come up with a plan, he needed to find a way to warn your driver about what had happened, so that he could avoid bringing you straight into danger. Better yet, he could drive you far away from it.

He walked in hurried steps while the people who had managed to escape ran away, the magnificent and imposing capitol building menacing to completely shatter and tumble down into dust. Leaving and reaching the street outside was the best course of action to ensure his safety, but a part of him with visibly no instinct of survival, remained determined to look around in search of a phone or whatever device he could use to warn you. To make sure you’d be safe.

He reached the front desk of the town hall, searching among the fallen bricks and thick layers of rubble with the hope to find something that would work to contact your driver…

Alastair ?

Coriolanus blinked a few times, stopping his frenetic search of the desk to stare at the silhouette running to the doors, recognizing the bald head and small frame of his driver.

“Alastair ?!” He called, as loud as he could to be heard above the distant screams and cries. The man turned around to look at him, fear appearing in his eyes when he recognized his boss… So he kept running.

Coriolanus took off after him, his tall legs giving him a clear advantage to catch up on the older man. He pushed him aside, grabbing him by his collar and slammed him against a dangerously unstable pillar.

“Where is my wife ?” He asked, leveling his face with his so that he could stare at him with his most menacing look.

“The rebels, they attacked… It was an explosion.” Alastair mumbled, inconherently. Coriolanus purposely slammed him against the hard surface again, hoping the shock it caused to his head would bring him back to his senses.

“WHERE IS MY WIFE ?!” He shouted, making it clear that if he had to ask again he might knock him unconscious instead.

“I don’t know, it exploded… The smoke… I ran.”

“You left her ?!” Your husband asked him, rage dangerously starting to take over at the realization that the one he had trusted with your security had so easily left you behind to save his own life.

“I have a family.” Alastair justified, his voice weakening and his breathing coming out raucous and labored. What was that supposed to mean ? That he was more important than you because he had children ? Was he implying that you didn’t deserve to live as much as he did because you hadn’t gave him a heir yet ?

Coriolanus’s gaze fell to his hands, the ones he was holding tightly around his driver’s neck, squeezing with all the strength of his rage. The older man started choking, tried to fight his employer off but he wasn’t strong enough and the shock of the whole situation didn’t help him think rationally enough to hope win this fight for his life.

Tighter.

Alastair’s face became alarmingly pale.

Tighter.

Alastair’s lips turned blue.

Tighter.

Alastair’s body dropped down on the floor.

Dead.

Coriolanus took a step back, watching the limp figure on the ground with clear disgust but he wasn’t sure if he felt it because Alastair had abandoned you or for himself, for adding someone else’s blood to his already stained hands.

There was no time to ponder his actions anyway. The judgment of his morals would have to wait until he found you and got you to safety. It was all that mattered. So, while people were still running out of the falling apart building, he ran back in, straight towards the thick smoke.

He called your name, so desperate to hear your voice answering him but the fleeing crowd was way too loud and agitated for him to hope hearing it and let it lead him to you. But he kept shouting anyway.

Some of his employees found him, tried to convince him to turn around and leave before the ceiling would collapse on him but he refused, determined to find you, even with the smoke burning his lungs and irritating his eyes.

His head was spinning, if the first people he had ran into were wearing their formal attire, slowly he started recognizing the red academy uniforms he used to wear every day. Then, he noticed the colors of a rainbow dress, fading in the thick smoke in front of him. A long time ago, the person wearing it had ran to him to save him from a similar situation, now she seemed to be running away, impossible for him to catch.

Was she the one who had led this violent attack against him ? And now she was here, running around the debris like an untouchable wild animal just to taunt him ? Of course she did. All she ever wanted was to end him. Ruin his life. Ruin everything.

Real or not, he followed her path, desperate to see where she would lead him. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him though, the feeling of being an eighteen years old boy who knew nothing about anything anymore. A naive man, who thought his survival depended on other people rather than on himself.

“Coryo…” Your voice called, answering his calls.

He perked up with a renewed determination to make his way through the smoke and find you. Rainbow colors and blood red uniforms faded from his vision. You were close, so he kept shouting your name, frantically searching around him until he collided against you.

He knew your body well enough by now to instantly recognize you, no one fitted in his arms the way you did. He looked down at you, trying to decipher wether you were injured or not but the dust covering your skin and hair made it hard to spot any trace of blood. He turned around, wanting to go back on his footsteps now that your hand was secured in his but he stopped when he noticed you could barely keep up, limping and coughing after each wince of pain that deformed your face.

Without a word, he came back to you and picked you up, carrying you in his arms even if his lungs were about to give up too. If he was going to die today, so be it but not before he got you out of there.

A plea for help resounded next to you, the barely visible shape of a woman stuck under a heavy pillar outstretching an arm in your direction, begging for her life. Coriolanus looked at her but kept walking, collateral damages were inevitable.

Finally, the smoke started dissipating, replaced by fresh air that burned your lungs in an entirely different way. A large crowd had formed in the street, kept at good distance from the collapsing building by peacekeepers. Many pairs of curious eyes turned to you, recognizing the presidential candidate heroically carrying his wife away from a vicious rebel attack. Some peacekeepers approached, freeing your husband’s arms to carry you to safety. They brought you to a medical tent that had been set up, where professionals and volunteers were running around, trying to care for the many injured and wounded victims.

An oxygen mask was placed on your face, providing you with the air you so desperately needed while a young woman tried to make you as comfortable as possible despite her apparent overwhelm.

“I’ll find some oxygen for you too, Sir.” She promised Coriolanus but he shook his head, refusing.

“Take care of my wife first.” He asked, and the woman nodded before scurrying away.

Time seemed to slow down as Coriolanus spent countless hours in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching over you, making sure you were taken well care of and mulling over his thirst for revenge. The rebels had crossed a line with this attack, they were clearly targeting him - and you - with it and that was simply unacceptable. His desire to become the new president of Panem was consuming him more than ever, thinking about the possibilities such a position would offer him to retaliate in kind against the districts. He could order the troops to bomb them, erase them from the map and the surface of the earth. He could decide of the fate of the very ones who committed the crime to try and kill him, he could set an example of what doom would be brought upon anyone who ever tried to hurt a Snow again… But he wasn’t president, yet.

However, his position as head gamemaker of the Hunger Games gave him quite a unique chance to keep the districts in check and remind them who truly held the power, after all, he had learned all the tricks from Doctor Gaul during the few years he had been working for her. He knew the only way to get his message to the rebels would be to answer in kind and make sure they’d know the fear of potentially loosing someone precious to them too…

A few days later, the doctors cleared you to go home so he decided to go back to his office and put his plan in motion.

As soon as he sat behind his desk, Minerva entered his office, holding a large file against her chest.

“I received the official report of the incident.” She announced, handing him the paper. He flipped the pages, brows furrowed and eyes rapidly darting across each paragraph.

“Twenty four deaths… And counting.” He read out loud.

“And I’m very sorry to tell you that I was informed that Alastair is among the victims.” She told him, which caused him to look at her, gravity etched on his face.

He had the perfect reaction. Not too emotional. Still professional. Believable.

“Do we know what happened to him exactly ?”

“The coroner said he died of asphyxiation from the smoke, like many others unfortunately.”

“It’s unfortunate indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, with a forced frown. “Make sure to send our condolences to his family.”

“Of course, Sir.” His assistant said, taking notes. “Anything else i can do ?”

“Yes… Call the press, I have an important announcement to make.” He stated, still more determined than ever to make everyone involved pay for what they did.

“And now, a message from Coriolanus Snow, head gamemaker of the Hunger Games and candidate for presidency.” The news anchor announced, as the camera zoomed in on your husband’s tired face, his brow furrowed and severity marking his traits.

“On Friday, people of the Capitol were the target of a terrible attack from an outlawed and violent group of radical people. We’ve lost precious lives and many of our citizens were gravely wounded during the attack.” Coriolanus spoke, solemnly, as the cameras shifted between different point of views of him. His voice was calm despite the rage displayed on his face. “Therefor, in retaliation, as head gamemaker, I have decided to make the 25th edition of the Hunger Games one that will remind everyone of the Capitol’s power… For this first quarter quell, each district will be required to send two boys and two girls into the arena.”

You watched your husband’s press conference on the television in the quiet and lonely living room of the manor, jaw dropping at his announcement. Was he taking advantage of the attack to give a lesson to the district, show his almighty power and advance his presidential campaign by gaining the Capitol’s support ? Or was he seeking out revenge for you ? Your chest tightened at the thought, could he care about you enough to be doing this for you ? Imagining you could be one of the reasons - among a thousand more important ones - for the punishment he decided to impose on the districts made your heart beat faster. With a husband so shy for words, a gesture like this one would speak volumes about how he truly felt.

You reached for the remote with a wince and turned the TV off, plunging the living room in darkness apart from the faint light coming from the crackling fire in the chimney. You stood with another wince, silently cursing at the doctors for sending you home without any meds to manage the pain you still felt so vividly in your body. If you had been a simple citizen, surely they would have kept you there longer, made sure that you were fully healed before letting you leave the private sector of the Capitol’s hospital but since the crowd of reporters, cameras and photographers was increasing with each passing day by the entrance of the hospital, they took the decision to send you home. Officially, it was meant to reassure Panem about the health of their potential future First Lady, show them you were as strong and courageous as your husband. But really, they just wanted to get rid of the public disturbing their other patients‘ peace.

You climbed the stairs leading to your bedroom slowly, and then sat at your vanity with a sigh. The reflection in front of you didn’t do justice to how you really felt. As soon as you had been discharged, a team invaded your room to make you look as flawless as you were always supposed to be, taking care of your hair, your makeup, your clothes, hiding any trace of the attack so that you could walk out, dazzling and smiling for the cameras. And of course you did just that. You managed to answer a few questions shouted at you with elegance and respect , offering sympathy to the ones who had suffered more than you did , smiling as some children handed you flowers and holding your head high just to let the rebels know that it would take more than this to bring Mrs Snow down.

But deep inside, you were a wreck. Images of the attack kept popping in your mind, you could still smell the smoke, feel it filling your lungs, suffocating you. You could still hear the screams, the cries, the shouts and the explosions. You could still feel the sharp pain in your shoulder when the column behind you collapsed and a heavy piece of marble hit you. You still had the bruises and the scratches on your skin from all the debris that flew in your face, even if they currently were hidden under a thick layer of makeup.

You slowly took it all off with a wipe, feeling almost relieved at the sight of the purple mark on your cheek and the other one on your neck, like a validation that you weren’t feeling so bad for nothing. You reached up to untie the sophisticated hairdo your beauty team had insisted on doing, but the sharp pain in your shoulder combined to the stiffness of your neck made it impossible to take more than two pins out before having to bring your arms down and take a deep breath to try and soothe the pain.

You had always considered yourself lucky to have such a big team of talented people to prepare you for every event you had to attend, sometimes they even got you ready and looking your best for simple shopping trips or private dinners if they expected you to be followed by reporters and photographers. But then, once the lights were out, the crowd long gone and the cameras pointed somewhere else, once you were back in the privacy and loneliness of your own home, then there wasn’t anyone to help you take off all this attire and help you be yourself again.

You were about to give up. At the moment, sleeping with twenty pins stabbing your scalp didn’t seem merely as painful as lifting your arm again did. But a movement in your mirror caught your attention. You lifted your eyes to the reflection, noticing a white silhouette, almost glowing in contrast to the darkness of your room, standing by the door, big blue eyes set on you.

You observed him quietly for a moment, unsure if he was really there or if it was yet another trick your mind was playing on you. Because you had a lot of visions of him lately. His face appearing in thick smoke. His voice shouting your name. His arms carrying you out of the chaos. His hand holding yours in the cold hospital room… You weren’t sure which memories were real or not. You couldn’t tell if he really had been by your side at the hospital this whole time or if you had just imagined his presence to reassure yourself. Were you imagining him there again so you wouldn’t feel so desperately lonely ?

“Let me help you with that.” He said, his tone softer than usual. He took the few steps in your direction, stopping behind you. You watched in the mirror as his fingers wandered in your hair in search of pins to take off, letting locks of hair fall down on your shoulders each time he removed one.

His touch was real. The heat you felt coming from his chest and radiating on your back was real. The expression of worry on his face every time he met your gaze in the reflection was real. He was real.

And instead of reassuring you like you thought it would, you suddenly felt invaded in your privacy to have him here, in your bedroom for the very first time. He shouldn’t see you like this, with your makeup off and your hair down, the bruises and the sorrow all too visible on your face. This wasn’t the image of the wife he had asked for. The wife who he wanted to impregnate. It was a pathetic reflection of a wounded and scared girl, wondering if she’ll ever be able to recover from such an horrific incident.

“I didn’t leave the hospital looking like this.” You felt compelled to say to justify how you looked in front of him, uncomfortable at the thought that it was the very first time he’d see you as you really were.

“I know, I watched the news from my office.” He simply said, focusing on finding the few last pins still tugging at your hair.

“And I watched your press conference.”

“What do you think about my idea for the quarter quell ?” His pale eyes found yours, silently gauging your reaction.

“I think a lot of people will love it, it’ll probably gain you many votes for the next round…”

“Probably but I meant what do you think about it ? Will it be a clear enough message to the districts that there will be hell to pay if they ever even think about hurting us again ?” He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Do you think all of Panem will now know that nobody hurts my wife without meeting the consequences ?”

You left out a breath, shocked by the rage you saw burning in his usually charming eyes. Either he was masterfully manipulative, wanting to make you believe that the decision he took to hold special games in retaliation was to avenge you, while it was, in fact, all about his career first. Either he really had done it for you, and the implications of such a revelation in regards to his true feelings for you were as terrifying to you as the first hypothesis was.

He remained quiet, removing his hands from your hair once he had pulled out the last pin and reached down to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down with his pale eyes fixed to yours in the mirror.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he trying to help you ? The zipper being in your back, you probably would have struggled to reach it, but the way he was taking care of it, so torturously slow, the tip of his fingers grazing the soft skin he revealed on his path made you question his true motives.

He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your neck, exactly where your heart started pulsing wildly in reaction. He pulled the fabric of your dress down, until it pooled around your hips. You saw him take a look at your reflection in front of him, the sight of the bruise on your chest and the other one over your clavicle setting his fury ablaze. He balled his fists tightly, as if he was trying to contain himself so you turned around to face him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

You didn’t dare consider that the reason for his anger was because he cared about you enough… But the way he relaxed into your touch made you wonder if you should.

He kissed your lips. Softly. Gently. Almost reverently, as if he was taking the full measure of what he could have been deprived of for the rest of his life with a different outcome of the events of that night.

“I will kill them.” He declared, a cold determination in his tone you had never heard from him before. “I’ll kill every single person responsible for this.”

He moved his fingers over the purple bruise on your chest, a featherlight touch that still caused you a sting of pain, to mark his words.

You remembered a quote you had studied in school, it said something like “pain is the only thing that makes us feel alive.” And, since it was written in your book and taught by your professor, you had always considered it to be true… Until now. Now you knew that there wasn’t anything else on earth that could possibly make you feel more alive than Coriolanus Snow and the way he kissed you, touched you and filled you up. And no pain would be able to stop your determination of feeling alive tonight. Maybe his way to cope from the attack was to hunger for violence and blood, but yours was to live.

You leaned towards him and kissed him with more fervor than he did. He returned the kiss but kept some restraint from the usually hungry and rough way you were used to having him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, against your lips. “Not when you’re hurt and still recovering.”

“I’m not made of sugar.” You assured him, with a soft smile but he didn’t return it, moving away to look at you like he had seen a ghost. Did he have flashbacks of the attack too ? Or something else ? He’d probably never tell you anyway, because he shook it off before you could open your mouth and ask him if he was alright, worry leaving its place to resolve on his face.

He walked to your bed, stopping at the edge and scanning your nightstand carefully as he slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he looked around, his eyes taking a moment to consider each object, each piece of decoration in your bedroom. It was the first time he entered it and although the way he threw his shirt on the floor and began unfastening his belt suggested he had other plans than simply asking you for a tour, he still took in most of the details of the only place where you could find privacy in your own home.

You stood up, removing your dress too and feeling suddenly very exposed to him. Your room, your face without makeup, your hair undone, your bruised skin, everything you usually kept hidden from your husband was now on display for him to see and you felt self conscious about it.

“Lie down.” Coriolanus demanded, kicking his pants off, leaving him with nothing on but his bare body for you to stare at, his skin almost as white as the suits he liked to wear.

You obeyed, climbing on the bed from the opposite side from where he stood. You let your head fall down on your fluffy pillow, breathing a sigh of relief as you noticed how the many aches in your body were appeased by the comfortable mattress under you.

He climbed on the bed next to you and it felt somewhat strange to see him there, in your room, on your sheets, naked. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and gently pulled them down your legs, the lace fabric sending shiver down your spine on its way down your body.

He spread your legs open for him, and placed himself between them, sitting back on his knees. He looked at your bruises again so, instinctively, you tried to hide them with your arms and hands in fear that he might change his mind and leave you wanting. Thankfully, he had mercy for you and, even though he didnt seem quite sure about how to proceed this time - as if he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to tame his usual roughness - he slowly stroked the tip of his cock between your folds.

He guided it in circles, teasing your entrance every once in a while, pressing over your bud, spreading your growing wetness all over in its wake and you noticed how it made him harden too, his cock increasing in length and girth in his hand with each movement.

It didn’t take long for either of you to be ready for more. After all, it had been a whole week during which the only physical contacts you had shared was him holding your hand at the hospital or placing a chaste kiss on your forehead each time he had to leave you for a while, and that was if you hadn’t dreamed or imagined it.

No longer able to tease you, he ended up pushing his erected member inside you, finding its way in so easily it felt like you were made to fit him by now. He noticed it too, how easy it was for him to bury himself all the way in you until his balls were squeezed between your bodies and he sighed with contempt as your warm and wet pussy engulfed him fully.

You said his name in a panted breath, loving the way he filled you up with his hard cock and his eyes darted to yours, his gaze shining with lust. He moved, starting with short slides back and forth to make sure you could take it then, once he saw you close your eyes and bite your lip to conceal a moan, he got a bit rougher and faster, shoving himself back in with enough force to make the bed crack loudly.

“Yes!” You cried, as you felt his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot so deep inside you, sending such pleasure through your entire body that you already felt close to coming undone. If there was any pain in your bruised body, you didn’t feel it anymore. All your mind could focus on was the intensity of his thrusts inside of you and the ecstasy building in your core in reaction.

He moved to hover over you, the change of angle making his strong movements even more intense. A moan fell from your lips but he silenced it with a hungry kiss, his taut chest pressing against yours.

He gathered you in his arms, holding your body tightly against his as he kept relentlessly thrusting inside you, swallowing all the moans that escaped from your lips with his desperate kisses.

You closed your legs around his hips, holding on to him as tightly as he was holding on to you. His thrusts lost their speed and intensity, but he still hit exactly where you needed him, making you whimper and moan with pleasure. His grip tightened and so did yours, both of you determined to never let each other go, him holding you like you might vanish at any moment and you holding him like your life depended on it.

He groaned, spilling his seed inside you with one powerful push. You dug your nails in his back, as his movements slowed down and your body contracted, your mind swimming in bliss.

He was panting, from his efforts and from the feverish kisses he kept giving you through it all. And yet he captured your lips with his again, in a much softer - almost loving - kiss. Then he set you free from his embrace, rolling on his side next to you and you istantly felt cold without the weight and warmth of his body on top of yours.

You shivered and he noticed, pulling the sheet over your numb body. You looked at him, wondering if he’ll stay the night. It would be the very first time you’d get to sleep with your husband. If the idea would have been dreadful to you just a year ago, now you wanted nothing more than to press your spent body against his and feel his presence as you drift off to sleep, knowing that you are safe with him by your side.

((More))

[athenamikaelson]

Written in the Stars Ch. 13

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Word Count- 2.6k

Warnings- Swearing, Karen’s

A/N- This is just a TINY chapter to get something out to you guys. Being in college SUCKS but we must prevail or whatever I guess. Anyway, I’ll get working on an actual canon chapter as soon as I can.

“If I have to bring this plate back to the cooks one more time because it is, quote on quote, “Too cold,” I’m actually going to quit,” I gesture to the plated steak in my hands as I put it on the metal counter for one of the cooks to take. Adrian our resident chef gives me an, “Are you serious” look and I shrug my shoulders at him.

“Hasn’t that been the 2nd time she’s sent it back,” Alastair questions me as he looks over to the blonde Karen across The Grill.

I rub a hand over my face in exhaustion, “Fourth, actually. Twenty bucks say she’s going to ask for the steak on the house,” I raise an eyebrow at my friend who smirks.

“I’ll take that action,” He reaches his hand out and we shake on it. 

I hear the ding of a bell behind me and turn to see the chef with the heated-up steak and if I weren’t pissed off as well I’d laugh at the annoyed look on his face. With a thank you, I grab the plate and walk it over to the blonde woman. I place the plate on her table and without a thank you or even an acknowledgement she pokes the steak and then huffs as she throws it back on the plate.

“It’s still cold. I want this taken off my bill,” I fight back an eye roll at her words.

“You didn’t even take a bite, Miss,” I try to reason with her and she dares to roll her eyes at me.

“I didn’t need to, to know that it’s cold. Either refund me or get the manager,” She turns around in her seat and crosses her arms like an actual child.

“Listen lady you can’t just-”

“Good evening,” Matt cuts me off from the start of my rant, “What seems to be the issue here?”

I whip around to look at Matt who shoots me a look and leans down to me, “I got this, don’t need you fighting the customers,” He jokes and I shoot him back a look as I huff and walk back to Alastair who was watching the whole interaction with a smirk.

“You owe me $20,” I hold out my hand and he huffs and pulls out a $20 bill from his black slacks. Even though he’s a bartender, he chooses to wear Versace and other designer brands to work. 

“Thank you,” I smile as I pocket the bill and shoot my friend a smile. 

We stand together and watch the dumpster fire, that is Matt trying to reason with the Karen. 

“So… what are your plans for after work,” Alastair asks me as he looks at his nails. 

“Why? Want to hang out,” I question.

“Uh…ya! But first I have to make a quick stop,” He says absentmindedly.

“That’s no problem.”

—

“Why are we at Elena’s house? You guys aren’t friends,” I question Alastair as he gets out of the driver’s side of his Porsche and comes over to open my door. 

“We could be…”

I look at my friend suspiciously and then back to the quiet house in front of us and I feel my shoulders instantly tense up.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Alastair stops moving and looks down at me wearily and shyly smiles.

“I’m going to kill you if this is a surprise party,” I threaten him and he grabs me by my shoulders and drags me up to the front door.

“Smile wide, babe.”

—

“Happy Birthday!”

I try to push a smile onto my face as I stare at my friends as they jump out from random corners of the Gilbert living room as I enter. 

Caroline, Elena, and Jenna all wear birthday hats and big smiles as they look at me. Ric stands behind Jenna with a small smile on his face and Tyler stands behind Caroline. Damon is currently scowling in the corner and surprisingly my little brother, who got back from camp 2 days ago, and Jeremy are standing next to each other looking like they just got done wrestling. 

“Are you surprised,” Caroline exclaims as she runs over to me and pulls me into her embrace. I shoot a look over to Alastair who smirks.

“Sooooo surprised.”

Caroline seems to believe me as her smile gets bigger and Elena moves around her to hug me too.

“Happy late birthday, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Lena.”

Both Jenna and Ric come over to wish me a late happy birthday, and then they lead me to sit down in the living room that is fully decorated with every kind of birthday decoration ever. From streamers, balloons, banners, and anything else sparkly Caroline could get her hands on. I find myself smiling at the fact that this must have taken some time to set up, even though I dislike my birthday and celebrating it, it’s nice to know that I have friends who would do this for me. 

“Happy birthday Y/n,” Jeremy says to me as he and my brother start arm wrestling. 

“I called her on her actual birthday and said happy birthday to her so,” Theo said absentmindedly as he focused on beating his friend. 

“Thank you, Jeremy,” I shoot a glare at my little brother who smirks back. 

“Damon aren’t you going to say something,” Elena questions the brooding vampire who raises an eyebrow as he downs the rest of his wine. 

“You’re forgetting up until yesterday she lived with me. I already celebrated her birthday before you children,” I tense up slightly as I shoot a look over to Theo who looks confused at the mention of me living with Damon.

“Ya! He did! Since I spent the summer at the Salvatore house for my tiny vacation and all,” I try to cover it up and Theo has an unsure look on his face but Jeremy starts tugging back on his arm and they go back to arm wrestling one another. Since Theo doesn’t know about anything that has happened this summer I don’t really want to drop that bomb now or anytime soon, to be honest.

—

For the next hour, we all eat snacks prepared by Jenna and Elena, and then watch Theo and Jeremy challenge each other in anything they could possibly challenge one another with and I had to stand awkwardly as everyone sang happy birthday to me. Now I’m seated in a rocking chair in the living room with everyone watching me as I open up presents. I can practically feel my hands shaking as I feel everyone’s attention on me.

The first thing I open is a small card with a cute cat on the front, inside is a slip of paper that reads, “One free assignment,” I frown in confusion but when I look up Ric is shyly smiling at me.

“I didn’t really know what to give you, I’m kind of horrible with gift giving but I thought with how hectic everything is, and with Senior year coming up, you could use that to skip out on any assignment this year I give you.”

I nod and smile at him gratefully, “Thank you, Ric, that is really nice. I’ll definitely be using that,” I whisper out the last part.

“Open mine next,” Caroline exclaims as she hands me a big garment box with a big pink bow on it. I shoot her a raised eyebrow and she just rolls her eyes, “Open it hoe!’’

I sigh and undo the pretty bow, pick up the top of the white box, and look inside to find a beautiful silk blue dress. I grab the dress and hold it up, the light satiny fabric feels like heaven in my fingers. What has me blushing though, is the rather deep neckline.

“Caroline…”

“What! You’ll look beautiful in it! It goes with your complexion!”

I look back at the dress and as much as I want to give her back, the clearly expensive dress, a bigger part of me doesn’t want to part with it. 

“Thank you Care, it’s beautiful.”

Caroline smiles to herself proudly and saunters back to stand next to Tyler who makes me frown as I watch him reach into his pocket pull out a 100-dollar bill and hand it to me.

“Tyler I’m not accepting that,” I scowl at him and he places it on the table in front of me.

“Either you take it right now or I’ll just come to your work tomorrow and tip you it,” He smirks and taps the bill, “Happy Birthday!”

I groan as Jenna rushes over to me and hands me a little gift box, I smile up at her as she looks like a child on Christmas, “You didn’t have to Jenna.”

“You shush you! Open it,” She excitedly says as she gestures to the box in my hands.

I smile and shake my head as I open the box to find a small silver bracelet with a Y/B/S gem in the center. My mouth goes slack as I look at the beautiful piece of jewelry.

“Jenna, it’s beautiful,” I say and she quickly takes it from me and unclasps the latch so she can put it on me. 

“I saw it and thought of you,” At the older woman’s words I have to swallow the lump in my throat and fight back the tears in my eyes. Choosing to focus on the cold metal that is now gracing my left wrist. 

“Thank you. I love it.”

“I guess that leaves me.”

I look up to see my best friend pull a big dark blue birthday bag out from behind the couch she was sitting on. The size of it takes me by surprise. 

“Elena…”

“Shush,” She says as she places the huge bag in my lap. I have to reach my hand in without looking to grab whatever is in it. My fingers instantly touch what I believe to be leather. I pull the thing out, push the blue bag away, and place it on the floor. When I look back at the leather thing in my lap I realize it’s a messenger bag. A rather expensive messenger bag by the look of the dark brown leather and the silver clasps.

“It even has your initials,” Elena says shyly as she points to the engraving on the corner of the bag. My smile slightly drops when I see, Y/f/n Y/m/n Y/l/n. Mostly because of the last name part. 

“You don’t like it… I knew it was too much. I should’ve gotten you the books I picked out,” Elena mumbles to herself and I’m quick to stop her.

“No! No, I love it. Truly Elena, thank you so much. I’m going to use it for school,” I smile up to her and I’m happy to see the dimples making their way back onto my friend's face as she smiles back at me. 

“Thank you all so much. This is really too much and I can’t thank you enough.”

They all say things like how I deserve it or don’t worry about it and such. Except Damon who hasn’t moved from his spot. 

“Wait,” Caroline whips around to Alastair, “What did you get her?”

Alastair smirks and then glances at the clothes I’m wearing, “Theo let me into her room earlier. I dropped my presents off there.”

I scowl at my little brother who is fighting back a laugh.

“The bag is also from me,” Jeremy says and Elena shoves him and tells him to shut it. 

— 

The night goes on with playing games and talking until one by one everyone files out of the Gilbert house. I make sure to thank Elena, Jenna, and Ric for everything as Alastair leads me outside to his car. Theo opted out of the ride home and decided to spend the night and play video games with Jeremy since they hadn’t gotten to all summer. 

After waving goodbye, Alastair pulls out of the driveway and starts driving me home.

“So what is it,” I ask him as I play with the bracelet on my wrist.

“What is what,” He asks but from his tone I know he’s messing with me.

“Don’t be a dick. You know what. My present from you. What is it?”

Alastair smirks to himself and just shrugs as he continues winding down the dark streets. It’s not long before we’re pulling up to my dark unlit house. Making me assume my mother’s not home. Thankfully. She hasn’t been around at all these past two days since I moved back. I didn’t even want to but with Theo moving back I didn’t want him asking too many questions on why I wasn’t living at home anymore.

Alastair gets out of the car walks over to my side opens my door and helps me out. We grab all the bags with my presents and then we walk to the front door.

“Thanks for tonight…I guess. It wasn’t that horrible.”

Alastair smirks at my comment and squeezes my upper arm, “Happy late birthday babe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I open my front door and hear Alastair walk to his car. I haven’t even fully shut my door before I hear him peeling out of my driveway.

I sigh to myself as I turn on my hallway light and try to carry my bags to my room. I kick open my door and stop when I see the horde of shopping bags that are sitting on my bed. Various designer brands sit on my bed and I can’t fight the way my jaw completely drops as I rummage through just a fraction of some of them. There has to be at least 10,000 dollars worth of designer purses, shoes, and clothes here. 

If Alastair can afford this then why the actual fuck is he working a entry-level bartending job?!?!?

I’m about to pull out my phone and bitch my friend out when I hear my doorbell ring. 

“Alastair if that’s you, you have a lot of explaining to do,” I yell as I walk down the hall and fling open the front door and yet I’m met with nothing. 

I’m about to close my door because this reminds me of every horror movie ever but when I look down a small box catches my eye. I peek out my door careful not the pass the threshold but there doesn’t seem to be anyone around. I cautiously lean down pick up the small black box and look at the tiny tag on the top. The only thing written on it is my name which pulls a frown on my lips. 

I quickly grab the box, shut the door, lock it, and slightly run to my room. As soon as I get to my room I eye the box in my hands momentarily before slowly opening it as if inside there was a bomb or some shit. I freeze when I see what’s inside though. A wolf. 

A small wolf pendant on a silver chain sits in the box. As creepy as this whole thing is I have to admit, the necklace is beautiful. The little wolf appears to be mid-howl and at closer inspection the eye of the wolf I think is some kind of gem. My fingers caress the wolf debating on what to do and after a moment I throw it onto my desk. 

I turn around to go organize the mess that is all these bags, but I feel an itch in my spine and I groan as I turn back to the necklace and roughly pick it up unclasp the chain, and put it on around my neck. As soon as I do a sense of familiarity and comfort almost seems to wash over me. I walk over to my bathroom mirror and look at the wolf in the mirror. And for a split second, I could’ve sworn its gemmed eye glowed.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Stories and Dolls

A/N – Okay, so I just quit my job and I’m freefalling right now. Time to channel my anxiety into fanfiction. Also, this chapter is darker so I’m raising the rating to M.

Warnings – MENTIONS OF RAPE, S/A, ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, AND TORTURE.

Rating – M

TAG-LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Lucifer had to admit, he was getting used to you. He enjoyed making breakfast a show in the morning, entertaining you with his parlour tricks and general showmanship. You were like a child, easily amused by flashing lights or some sleight of hand.

And of a night, he also found your company less than objectionable, whether you were reading a book in the library with Spick and Span curled up at your feet, in front of a roaring fire (you had conjured them medallions with their names on them, so as to tell them apart), or those nights when you came back from visiting the hotel and regaled him with the tales of its inhabitants. Lucifer was starting to like Angel Dust, even if he didn’t believe the porn star actually had a chance at redemption. Nifty also seemed entertaining, Husk could be a source of wisdom and comfort in equal measure, and Alastair… Well, he was there too, taking up too much of your attention.

Yet, despite his newfound almost-friendship with you, he couldn’t help thinking about what you had said on your first night in the manor.

‘You don’t even know why I’m down here, and you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same.’

You were right. He didn’t know why you were there, and that was driving him crazy. He wanted to like you. Truly, he did. But how could he like you when he didn’t know your sin? People got sent to Hell for a reason! They wasted their free will. They sold drugs to kids, murdered people, trafficked victims, tricked and swindled others. For all Lucifer knew, you were there for drowning puppies.

The thought made him deeply uncomfortable.

Okay. He would ask you about it. No big deal. People probably talked about why they went to Hell a lot right? That was a normal conversation for Sinners, probably…

Lucifer wasn’t entirely wrong in thinking that. However, nearly all Sinners lied about what they went to Hell for, making it even more brutal or horrifying to try and earn some extra credit among their fellow Demons. Someone who had killed one person would claim to have been a serial killer. A low-life drug dealer would paint themselves as a mafioso with a drug empire, and arsonists… They didn’t have to lie much, as fires tended to spread quickly and they generally were as psychotic as they claimed to be.

It was all basic self-preservation in Hell. Be the toughest person there, so nobody could find new ways to hurt you. Kill or be killed (figuratively, since Demons couldn’t technically kill other Demons), sink or swim, do unto others before they did unto you.

Right. When Lucifer next saw you, he would ask.

“Hey Lucifer,” You said upon returning to the manor from the Hotel, “You doing okay?”

Lucifer froze. He hadn’t expected to see you so soon. Fuck.

“Hey bitch,” Lucifer greeted, feeling entirely awkward, yet trying to feign confidence.

“Uh… Back at ya,” You reciprocated confusedly.

“Sooooo,” Lucifer started, steepling his fingers together, and holding them to his mouth, his brow knitting together worriedly, “I have a question for you.”

“Oh.” You were surprised by Lucifer’s admission. While the two of you generally made conversation, he didn’t tend to ask too much. Besides, in the preface of announcing his question, it seemed that he was likely to ask you something personal.

You waved your hand casually, indicating that he was free to ask away.

“How- Uh how was everything at the Hotel? Is my little girl doing okay?”

As you smiled and fell into a description of how Charlie was doing and her general excitement about her meeting with Heaven, Lucifer cursed himself. He knew that what he wanted to ask was important, but it was just so personal. Well, at least he was happy to hear about his daughter. There were also some other colourful stories included in your conversation.

Finally, you wrapped up the conversation, effectively ending it when you casually said, “Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. I’m real tired, you know?”

Lucifer didn’t say much as you left, he was still pondering whether you might be a puppy killer or relative and accomplice to that Jeffrey Dahmer fellow, or something equally disturbing. If not… Why were you there?

Having gotten ready for bed, you sighed, letting the day’s events wash over you, lifting a weight off your shoulders. You were tired, but the day had been a good productive one. Moreover, it was nice to end the day by standing out on the balcony, overlooking the rest of Hell.

There was a time when you had died, during which you stood atop a building in the main streets watching all the fights, looting, and maiming, and you were horrified. Then, you met Charlie, and she had been so wonderfully pure, good, and non-judgemental that you had to agree with her. Hell could be a home to you, and all the other Sinners who lived there, and Sinners could always change for the better.

While you held onto the balcony railing, leaning over it, and staring at the red horizon, Lucifer approached your open door at the entrance of your room, knocking despite the open invitation to come in.

You turned and smiled at him, your smile putting him at ease.

“Come in,” You offered.

He did so, crossing the large room and taking quick mental notes of the changes you had made. They were minor, but they spoke of your personality. You had lit scented candles, brightening the room – the official scent name was Tapioca Tit-play.

Subconsciously, Lucifer worked his magic to remove the off-smell that he had placed there; it was redundant when your candles covered it, and he didn’t mind your company so much anymore.

He also observed several other items. There was a photograph of everyone at the Hotel, though you had drawn Alastor on the end in crayon since he didn’t love to be captured in photographs (he could bear it unlike being filmed, but he didn’t care much for it.)

Wrapped around your bedposts were nightlights to keep out the dark. On your bed, you had a teddy of one of Sir Pentious’ egg-bois, a gift from him. Husk had gifted you with a bottle of his best Whiskey, though it remained unopened on the nightstand. There was a cockroach/daisy hybrid necklace wrapped around a book. The candles were from Angel Dust. Beneath your pillow was a dagger, gifted by Vaggie, for your protection. Alastor had given you a collection of books from the store in Cannibal Town, including several that were rumoured to have been stolen from Heaven’s library, though nobody was certain where that rumour started or if it was even true, though there were no copies of the books anywhere else in Hell.

Although Lucifer had no way of knowing these items were all presents from your friends at the Hazbin Hotel, he could tell that you cared deeply for the odd assortment by their placement on the two bedside tables; they had been positioned with care, and were well looked after.

Then, his eye caught the rubber duck, slightly hidden behind the picture frame. He remembered making that one. As a hellhound imitation, it was meant to teleport to whoever needed it most inside the Manor, offering protection should they come under attack. Naturally, he and his family didn’t need such protection, but he had been experimenting with what powers he might imbue unto yet another duck.

He decided not to mention it as he joined you on the balcony, looking you over in your pyjamas.

You also spared him a glance, noting that he seemed more relaxed. Although he was still in his usual attire, he had removed his top-hat-crown and his overcoat, revealing the waistcoat and shirt beneath; the sleeves were rolled up, giving him a more casual appearance.

“Hell’s skies are beautiful, aren’t they,” You stated, returning your gaze to the horizon.

Lucifer looked up, but all he saw was Heaven, the home that didn’t want him.

“(Y/N),” He started, forcing himself to look down, so he wouldn’t have to stare at the painfully beautiful golden glow above.

“Hm?”

“How did you end up here?”

Your grip tightened on the railing drawing Lucifer’s gaze to the whites of your knuckles.

Your whole body became tense and you answered with a ragged breath, “I died.”

“Yes but-” Lucifer was about to lead into the question of your sins, but you spoke up again, seemingly misunderstanding the question as you continued, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“I was- I was murdered.”

Lucifer could have explained that the cause of your death wasn’t what he had been driving at, but now he was darkly fascinated. If you were the same kind-hearted, warm person in life, why would anyone wish to bring about your death?

He remained silent as you began recounting the manner in which you had been killed.

“I had a friend,” You started slowly, taking steady breaths between each part of the story that followed as if it would make it any easier. “I mean- I- I thought he was my friend. I loved him. He knew that. He counted on it.”

“I thought that he travelled for work. That’s what he told me. It’s why he was always coming and going. But no… He was just looking for more people like me. He found people. Made us fall for him. Then he- he took me out on a date. Blindfolded me. Said it was a surprise. I- I trusted him, but the blindfold just made it easier for him to- He knocked me out.”

You subconsciously touched the back of your head, remembering the blow that had come with no warning.

Lucifer turned to you, one hand holding onto the railing, the other planted firmly at his side.

“Did he-” He started to ask.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t rape. It was worse.”

You shivered, waiting until you were certain you weren’t going to vomit. Then you continued, your skin ashy.

“I woke up in a- It was like a cinderblock cell, but it had been sort of decorated to look like a fancy suite?”

You recalled the room. It was damp, and the floor was cheaply produced concrete, given away by the amount of air bubbles which had never been levelled and now pocked the surface, like a teenager with bad acne. The cinderblock walls were easy to see, though some talented artist had been paid to paint it with the likeness of the Ritz hotel or somewhere equally fancy. While that had made it look better, it was still clearly a cinderblock wall; then again, you can’t polish a turd, but you can roll it in glitter.

You had been handcuffed to a chair in the centre of the room. Your clothes had been taken, and you had been dressed in a skimpy shortened tuxedo, with a fitted vest instead of a jacket. You remembered screaming till your voice was raw. You screamed so much that you ended up spitting flecks of blood, but nobody came to save you.

“I- I was tied up,” You said simply, downplaying the memory to Lucifer, more for your own sake than his, though he could see the pain behind your eyes.  

Lucifer didn’t interrupt your story, but his anger was growing. Behind him his tail lashed furiously, his eyes became flaming red, and his fangs became sharper. You hadn’t noticed, you were lost in memory, and you had yet to look his way since beginning your story.

You sighed, thinking of the torture, humiliation, and suffering which followed, all at the hands of one man. It wasn’t your captor. It was who he had sold you to.

“It- I was- They were making snuff films. I don’t know how many people died there before or after me but- I was sold to an American. He- He liked to cut things. It was a while before- I don’t know if I bled out, or if my heart stopped, maybe both?”

For the first time, your skin changed colour, turning from your regular human shade to a pale seaweed-green. Against the colourful backdrop, Lucifer could see your now blinding white glowing scars. Upon your death they remained hidden, completely invisible, but now you were distressed… You seemingly did have something of a Demonic appearance after all.

You were a ragdoll.

There wasn’t a part of your body that hadn’t been cut, or originally sliced off, only to be repaired in death. In all likelihood, your real body was probably burned, buried, or dissolved in acid. In Hell, your scars were the stitches that held your body together. Lucifer now understood your human appearance since like a real ragdoll, you were good at playing dress-up. He bet that if you explored your abilities, you would have been able to look like anyone, a skin-changer, but you had adopted your appearance in life; it was likely an accident caused by the trauma of your memories.

“(Y/N),” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. He wanted to be comforting, but he was already thinking of all the ways he would punish your killer and any accomplice he may have had. There were worse things than Death in hell; he would torture those bastards for eternity, and then when he finally grew bored, he would end them with angelic weaponry, wiping their souls from existence, leaving no trace of such monsters.

You didn’t turn to face your King, who was now in his full Demonic form, his rage at its peak.

“Just go,” You murmured despondently, staring over the balcony, and down to the ground. A long drop and a short stop… It was a shame it wouldn’t kill you; at least the pain would end if you died.

“But-” Lucifer reached you to put a hand on your shoulder, his wings almost curling around you as if to envelop you.

“I- I would like to be alone. Please.”

Lucifer hesitantly withdrew his hand, “I’m sorry.”

That was all he said before walking away, leaving you alone.

You wished that you could have been left to wallow, but your phone soon buzzed and you opted to check it in case it was an emergency.

Retrieving it from the bed, you found a message from Charlie.

“EMERGENCY. ANGEL DUST. RELAPSE. GET OVER HERE. PLEASE!”

Damn it! If Charlie was texting you for this, it meant that Husk was either the cause or he wasn’t around to be the solution. Moreover, while Charlie would want to assist her friend, she was likely the last person Angel Dust wanted to see; sometimes, though she was well-intentioned, she just didn’t understand such issues or she could be a bit much.

Still stuck in your ragdoll body, you ran back to the balcony and vaulted over the edge. It wasn’t a smooth landing, and it hurt a lot. Anyone else would have broken their bones, but when you were like this, there wasn’t anything else that could be broken. Everything had already been torn off you. Ignoring the pain, you ran until you found a taxi. You took it to the Hotel.

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

Literally all of The Shadowhunter Chronicle romances are completely unhinged it’s not even funny (I lied, it’s very funny). Here’s just some examples:

William “Will” Herondale/James “Jem” Carstairs + Theresa “Tessa” Gray: It totally would have been a vee type polyamorous situation if it wasn’t for all the death and 1800s London society going on.

Henry Branwell + Charlotte Fairchild: How dare this misogynistic society put us together, I mean, we wanted to get together anyway, but not for those reasons. Welp, time to be as unconventional as possible.

Gabriel Lightwood + Cecily Herondale: Look, you made fun of my sister, it’s only fair that I marry your sister; that’s the rules.

Gideon Lightwood + Sophia “Sophie” Collins: Dad, I have a perfectly valid reason to betray you and go to the other side. What your doing is wrong and – nO tHiS haS nOThiNG to do wiTh tHeIR mAid wHy wOUlD yoU eVEn sAy tHat?

Jesse Blackthorn + Lucie Herondale: Your request to not be brought back to life has been denied, deal with it.

James “Jamie” Herondale + Cordelia Carstairs: He didn’t commit arson we were just having sex – why are you all looking at me like that’s worse?

Anna Lightwood + Ariadne Bridgestock: Listen, there’s a lot of society going on right now, so we’re going to have to get together in secret. Oh, you don’t want to? Okay, never mind, fuck society, let me win you back real quick.

Christopher Lightwood + Grace Cartwright: Oh good, you broke into my house, now we can talk about science.

Thomas Lightwood + Alastair Carstairs: I’d really like to hate you, but I think the biggest problem with that is that I love you. Once I get over that hurdle, I think we’ll be in the clear.

Lucian “Luke” Graymark + Jocelyn Fairchild: Good job on us for breaking away from the genocidal cult run by our best friend/husband; we should hook up, you know, as a reward.

Jonathan “Jace” Herondale + Clarissa “Clary” Fairchild: Ayo the same guy conducted experiments on our blood, that’s crazy; btw so glad we’re not actually siblings.

Alexander “Alec” Lightwood + Magnus Bane: Marrying each other is against the law? Okay, fine, I’m a law biding citizen. Oh oops, I made it legal. I am the law now, and I want a wedding on the beach.

Simon Lovelace + Isabelle Lightwood: It makes sense to have our engagement party on the day of my brother’s death, that’s when we really started bonding.

Helen “Alessa” Blackthorn + Aline Penhallow: Well, I guess we’re going to go in exile together. Yes, I said together; your exile is my exile, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, that’s how relationships work.

Julian Blackthorn + Emma Carstairs: Yes, it’s a technical war crime to love each other, but the law itself is not really our main concern about it.

Kieran Hunter + Mark “Miach” Blackthorn + Cristina Rosales: We’re really living that cottage core aesthetic, and all we had to do to get here was do a small war and some amnesia. Worth it.

Gwyn ap Nudd + Diana Wrayburn: I’m going to stand by just in case something happens, but it probably won’t, she knows what she’s doing – WHY IS SHE JUMPING OUT THE TENTH STORY WINDOW OH MY GOD WAIT

Tiberius “Ty” Blackthorn + Christopher “Kit” Herondale: We take cosplaying Sherlock and Watson VERY seriously, so of course we needed to go to all the most illegal places, it’s only natural.

Ash Morgenstern + Drusilla “Dru” Blackthorn: So anyway I saw them in a sort of fever dream like state this one time and they’ve still been on my mind for years.

[lady-betty]

This idea stuck in my head

Lucifer goes on a date through hellish Tinder. He's very worried. His door to his room is open and he is practicing a few lines in front of the mirror. Alastair appears at the door. The Radio Demon taunts, “How desperate do you have to be to go on a Tinder date!?” But the thing is, Alastair simply doesn't want Lucifer to date anyone at all.

“Get out of sight!” Lucifer closes the door and continues to preen himself in front of the mirror.

***

As expected, the date went horribly. Lucifer is very upset. Charlie asks Alastair to check on Lucifer. “I thought a date would help me take my mind off it, but it only made things worse.” "Perhaps you should try again" “Pfft, you think this is my first date…after…” "I know one…demon you could meet" "Mmm? Why such a concern? “Let’s just say you’ll get rid of the blues and Charlie will stop bothering me about it.” Lucifer is silent for a while. “And who is he or she?” “Oh, it's a man. Smart, polite and charming. Not without a sense of humor" Alastair adjusts his bowtie "And handsome enough" Lucifer sighs "I guess I can try one last time"

“I’m organizing a meeting at a restaurant.”

***

Restaurant. Lucifer arrives at the appointed time and sees Alastror at the table. “What are you doing?” “Actually, we have a date.” "Fuck! What a naive fool I am, this is all a fucking joke." Lucifer leaves, but Alastair stops him “I wouldn’t go to such trouble just to make fun of you, Your Highness. I sincerely wanted to have dinner with you." Lucifer remains. The evening goes very well, she laughs and dances. Life seems to be getting better.

[arianamidnight]

Outburst

Hazbin hotel fic

My AU that's why it's OOC and pretty far from cannon

Warnings: swearing, mention of violence, ships (Varlie), tickles

Summary: Vaggie had enough of hotel residents teasing her about Charlie. But, what if the person she'll fall out on, didn't mean it? And, moreover, will take it personally?

~~~~~~~~~~

Vaggie growled, sitting on the sofa in the lobby. She was so done! Whole this week, after Charlie went to the VoxTec to help Angel Dust and came back... Ugh, so annoying!

Vaggie stomped her foot. After Angel Dust gave her Charlie with "I think this is yours" phrase everything went fucking bad. At first she didn't pay attention to this. But, shit!

Next was Alastair. Charlie got really emotional towards one of his usual puns, and started sobbing. Radio demon didn't think about anything better than call Vaggie and give her Charlie, with "I assume, this is yours, my dear". That already made Vaggie's eye twitch.

Next was Husk. That time he gave princess a bit too hard alcohol, and she while getting drunk started crying because Niffty killed the bug. And again, what happened? Vaggie was called, Charlie was tossed into her arms and told: "This is yours. Not my problem."

Vaggie stood up and started walking around the lobby growling. Yes she was Charlie's girlfriend, but that didn't mean that she was the only one who would calm princess down!

Vaggie rapidly turned around to walk towards the opposite side of the lobby, and... Almost bumped into Lucifer, who was carrying something.

"Sorry, your majesty" sighed Vaggie and took a deep breath to calm down. She was Charlie's first helper, so she couldn't let herself show so inappropriate behaviour infront of the ruler of hell.

Sob

Vaggie blinked. Did she hear a sob?

Vaggie looked up from the floor and noticed that the "thing" Lucifer was holding turned to be... Charlie, warped in the blanket, in tears.

It was the last drop for Vaggie. She growled in fury.

"I swear to Edem, if you would say this is yours I won't look that you can kill me in one go, and won't hesitate to try to rip your throat!"

From this harsh words Lucifer gasped, and even Charlie stopped crying.

For Lucifer it was worse then a blade into the heart. Ruler of hell looked down, and his body started shaking.

"O-oh... Actually I was about to ask how you calm Charlie down in such situations, because you were with her for so long... And I wasn't in her life at all and am the worst father ever..." after finishing this sentence, Lucifer was barely holding his tears.

Vaggie gasped when she realised how much she fucked up. Fallen angel gently put Charlie on the floor, covering his pain with slight smile.

"As I see my Little Apple calmed down, s-so I would b-better l-leave..."

Lucifer took a deep breath, tears falling down his cheeks, and teleported away with spark of golden light.

"Dad, no!" Charlie tried to stop him, but it was too late.

Vaggie blinked in shock. She felt so much guilty right now. She knew HOW Lucifer loves his daughter! And how badly ruler of hell regrets not being part of her life for so long! Of course seeing Charlie cry for the first time in his life he would panick, and look for someone who has experience. For someone like Vaggie!

Charlie looked around, hearing a strange sound. Princess of hell sighed, when she noticed her girlfriend on the floor with wide eyes.

"C-charlie... I... I'm s-sorry! I'm s-so s-sorry... I d-didn't mean t-to! C-charlie! I swear, I...." Vaggie wasn't able to talk straight. Guilty, fear, sadness. All this feelings overwhelmed her at once.

Charlie walked towards her girlfriend and sat near her. Princess of hell hugged Vaggie.

"Shhhhh~ It's okey, Vaggie. I know you didn't mean to" Charlie whispered into her ear.

A few minutes passed in silence, Charlie and Vaggie cuddling on the floor. Finally Vaggie took a deep breath.

"Thanks Babe... I'm really sorry for hurting your father's feelings. Just..." Vaggie sighed.

Vaggie never talked with Charlie about those situations, but looks like now was the time.

"Wait, what?!" Charlie gasped after her girlfriend explained reason of her outburst.

Vaggie nodded with a sigh. Charlie shook her head softly.

"Silly. You should have told me about this much earlier. Please, don't hide from me if something is making you uncomfortable. Deal?" Princess of hell stood up and landed her girlfriend a hand.

Vaggie grabbed Charlie's palm and stood up with a smile.

"Deal. From now on I would immediately tell you if something will get on my nerves" Vaggie chuckled. But after, she remembered Lucifer and got a bit nervous.

Charlie immediately noticed it and smiled.

"Don't worry, Vaggie. I know how to cheer dad up. And... I will need your help~" princess of hell giggled misciviously.

Vaggie snickered. This girl was definitely a ball of cheer and mischief.

"I'm fully in, Princess~" Vaggie winked to Charlie, making her blush.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer was curled up under the blanket in his room. Tears were running down fallen angel's cheeks. He fucked up, again. Normal father must know how to deal with his own daughter in tears! But, Lucifer didn't know... When Charlie entered his room, in tears, he started panicking. So pathetic! Ruler of hell, panicking because his daughter is sobbing! All demons would lose any respect if they'll find out! And the fact that he can easily kill half of them won't do a thing.

Fallen angel whined. He was so done. Probably, Alastor was right and he is pathetic piece of shit. Charlie deserves so much better than him...

Suddenly the door opened slowly. Lucifer stuck his muzzle out from under the blanket. Fallen angel saw that person who entered his room was Charlie.

Oh, she wasn't alone. Vaggie was there too.

When Lucifer noticed Charlie's girlfriend he got back under the blanket. No, no, no! He didn't want to be called pathetic and bad father! Now again! Now now...

"Daddy?" Charlie called softly, sitting on the bed corner.

Lucifer didn't answer.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other. Vaggie sighed.

"Your majesty, I wanted to apologize. I really didn't mean to yell" Vaggie walked towards the bed and kneeled down on the floor near Charlie.

Lucifer slightly peeked out of the blanket.

"R-realy?" hesitantly asked ruler of hell.

"Yes" Vaggie nodded. "I didn't mean to remind you of the past. And now I feel really bad for hurting your feelings. It's just..."

Vaggie sighed. Charlie put her palm on Vaggie's shoulder for emotional support. Vaggie smiled gratefully.

"It's just that during last week, Charlie got emotional and cried a lot of times. And all those times I was one calming her down. I got really tired that everyone would just think that it's my duty to calm her down" Vaggie growled slightly, getting annoyed again. Charlie started playing with her girlfriend's hair to calm her down.

Lucifer got out from the blanket. Fallen angel nodded to himself. This explained a lot. Vaggie always was really polite with him. Why he didn't think that something must have happened to make Charlie's girlfriend aft this way?! But no, he must have started overthinking!

Lucifer sighed and shook his head.

"I forgive you, Vaggie. And I apologize for the bright reaction. I was pretty stressed lately" ruler of hell looked down, feeling embarrassed that he was acting like a child.

"Don't worry dad, it's okey. You don't need to apologize~" Charlie hugged her father. Lucifer hugged his daughter back with a smile.

"Thanks Little Apple" fallen angel closed his eyes. His daughter was one and only person who can make him feel comfortable really fast.

But then...

"But I am not happy that you were all stressed lately. You definitely need some cheering up~" Charlie giggled misciviously, and hugged Lucifer tighter, keeping him still.

"L-little Apple! W-what are you..."

But fallen angel wasn't able to finish the sentence. Suddenly he felt Vaggie squeezing his knee.

"Eeeeehihihihik! Nohohohoho! Vahahahaggie! Nahahahahat... Eeeeehihihihik, thehehehere!" ruler of hell immediately burst into giggles, squealing from every squeeze.

"Whoa, you vere right Charlie. It seems like a baaad spot~" Vaggie chuckled playfully, as she continued squeezing Lucifer's knees.

"If you think this is bad, then look~" Charlie giggled and took a deep breath.

Lucifer's pupils went wide as he realised what is about to happen.

"Chahaharlie, plehehease mehehercy!~" begged fallen angel, giggling from the knees tickles.

But, actually both Lucifer and Charlie knew that fallen angel he can easily teleport away, or shapeshift into the snake. But ruler of hell was really enjoying the tickles from his daughter and her girlfriend.

When Charlie blew a raspberry on the side of Lucifer's neck, he burst into bubbly laughter. Vaggie even stopped squeezing his knees, facinated with the sound.

After the second raspberry, fallen angel got hiccups, what made his laughter more rapid and high pitched.

After hearing her father hiccuping, Charlie stopped with raspberries. She let Lucifer go, and he fell on the bed in giggling and hiccuping mess.

"Dad, you okey there?" Charlie snickered.

Vaggie was looking at this interaction with soft smile. Those two definitely needed father and daughter bonding.

"Yehehehes, I'm hic fihihine" Lucifer bubbled and then took a deep breath.

"I wanna apologize again for my behaviour, your majesty" said Vaggie softly.

"It's okey Vaggie. Thanks to your sneak attack I feel much better." fallen angel rolled his eyes with a smile and sat on his bed.

"Oh, about that..." Charlie look down with guilty smile.

Vaggie and Lucifer shared a look.

"Little Apple?"

"Babe?"

Charlie giggled nervously and shrugged.

"I just wanted to say that I didn't cry for real this time. Sorry dad, but I just wanted to prank you." princess of hell admited.

"Whaaaaat?!" Vaggie and Lucifer growled simultaneously.

Charlie looked at her father and girlfriend with puppy eyes and ingratiating smile

"I'm sorry?"

Vaggie sighed.

"Babe, it sounds like a question, rather than as apology." Vaggie tried to sound stern, but couldn't help a soft smile.

Lucifer shook his head, embarrassed. How came he didn't notice that Charlie was pretending?

"Little Apple, you're so naughty!" playfully pouted Lucifer.

Girls giggled.

"I'm so getting you back for it" added fallen angel with miscivious smile.

"Now I at least know who she got this miscivious attitude from." sighed Vaggie, and all three of them burst out with laughter.

[im-out-of-it]

after being told by people in the shadowhunter community: ReAd ThE bOoKs. ThEy’Re So MuCh BeTtEr. ummmm what the actual fuck are you reading because I don’t think it’s the same book I have???? I will give a little credit. there are characters I adore (Alec, magnus, Izzy, Gabriel, Gideon, Thomas, Alastair, Jem, Matthew, Lucie, Christopher, ok you get the point.) but I don’t agree with the way some of them were written. the first books are actually trash and still I am amazed they were published. I don’t care if it was CC’s first series- they’re so fucking atrocious. the writing is so messy and it’s not the good kind of “it’s so bad it’s good messy.” and you’d think after being messy for so long, you’d maybe I don’t know learn some lessons and write better??? but I guess some people don’t know how to write lmao

I honestly think that if this book was handed to or created by someone who actually cared about the characters and representation, it could have been so much more. instead she wants to focus on gold eyed tiger bad boy angels who are borderline abusive and can’t find the will to focus on anything else. there was potential but CC ruined it just so she could write about toxic and problematic herondales.

and people shit on the show (basically mostly book stans who claim the books are better lmao and I’m not saying that show is perfect- it has its flaws.) but I would rather have 10 seasons of the show instead of another bland trilogy where the stories and tropes repeats themselves. it’s repetitive and the actual interesting characters always takes a backseat and any representation is thrown out the window for the most toxic main characters. I said what I said. I would much prefer to have full seasons of Malec where it’s actually healthy (I fucking love show Malec. god bless them.) than read a chapter of a love scene between some herondale and his bland love interest. or read 600 pages of miscommunication over the dumbest shit💀

my fav characters deserved so much better than the lazy way they written. RIP MY FAV CHARACTERS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND IM SORRY FOR THE CHARACTER ASSASSINATION SOME OF YALL WERE DEALT WITH 😭

[multifanrae]

Reasons why Tim and Sasha’s friendship is so fucking important to me. (An appreciative essay to the Magnus Archives and also a mostly related rant on how media usually portrays relationships)

#1 and also the most important, their friendship is just so GOOD. Like yeah what we see is mostly just joking around and a bit of poking fun, but it’s so completely free of malice which is actually really hard to achieve. Because that’s what my friends and family do to each other but it always seems like there’s some deeper undertones that end up at least slightly hurting someone, but from the intonation and the small insight we get into their relationship, that harmful part seems to be absent and like it really is just fun to pass the time and make conversation. And in order for that to work, the relationship has to be really deep and vulnerable to negate that kind of preying on insecurity which just shows how close they really are

#2 having a man and woman just be really close friends for some reason just means a lot to me personally. I know they allude to past relations, but the core of it is they both recognize and respect that they’re really just good friends, and even though they explored a sexual/possibly romantic avenue, they both concluded it was really just platonic, and it’s agreed upon and respected enough to the point where it can be joked about without discomfort. I just love that they get to be so close and important to one another without the romantic element because I’m so tired of seeing m/f relationships only being romantic and/or sexual especially from an unrequited standpoint. (Specifically when the man, despite many objections and boundaries, continue to see her as a sexual object or conquest)

#3 just having good platonic representation. Don’t get me wrong I’m a slut for romantic subplots. (Mostly when they’re gay because I’m a lesbian deprived of representation but still) I think platonic relationships are incredibly important to represent because they’re so often shown as less significant than a romantic one and that’s not true and not fair. Platonic relationships are incredibly important and incredibly meaningful. In some cases I’d even say more than romantic ones, because there isn’t the expectation of sex (assuming it’s an allo relationship). And friendships tend to last longer than romantic affiliations anyway, so it’s stupid to assume that just because you aren’t romantically or sexually involved that the relationship is inferior

#4 I just fucking love their dynamic. I really think they actually just bring out the best in each other. They’re both smart in similar but different enough ways and they seem to just fuel the best aspects of each of their personalities, even if the teasing may seem crude at first glance

#5 I’ve just been watching the RQGG20 stretch goals with Mike and Alastair and the “hello, my name’s Timothy Stoker, you killed my brother and my best friend, prepare to die” fucking TOOK ME OUT. I know it’s a Princess Bride reference, but the delivery and the fact that the stranger took the two most important people of Tim’s life was a realization that felt like a fucking knife to the chest. (Yes I did only realize that just now). They were seriously such best friends and the fact that Tim was living and interacting with someone he didn’t know wasn’t Sasha is just hurting me all over again. Because the pain I’d feel if my best friend was switched out with a monster and I didn’t notice (even tho that’s literally the point) like the guilt and pain that cause

[kmmachilles]

heres the list of my favourite shadowhunter couples from all the series (not including twp for obvious reasons) bc i cant sleep

TID: Gideon n Sophie. I KNOW KNOW EVERYONE LOOVES HERONGRAYSTAIRS I DO TOO THEYRE MY HEART ND SOUL but gideon n sophie man. cmon. theres sweet hurt sophie that thinks men like gideon r assholes bc of her former employers son and will, and gideon REINFORCES that by constantly talking in spanish while hes actually absolutely down BAD for sophie. she thinks shes not good enough for him, her being a mundane 'servant' and 'ugly' from her scarred face and him being the eldest son carrying the great shadowhunter lightwood name. and then hes just there ordering scones to his room just to see sophie, and ending up stashing them under the bed bc he doesn't even LIKE them. and pretty, smart sophie, although FURIOUS at first, goes 'so yea u dont like scones. what about SPONGE CAKES???????? THEYRE MY SPECIALTY' and then he falls so in love with her and proceeds to tell everyone hes marrying her before even proposing to her. i love them.

TLH: Alastair n Thomas. i love love love them not only their pair but them as separate characters too. esp bc the two didnt have the kind of shit the other ships had to deal with like james n cordelia were 'OH HE LOVES GRACE BUT I LOVE HIM / OH I LOVE GRACE BUT IM MARRIED TO CORDELIA / I SHOULD RUN AWAY W MATTHEW / fuck im in love with cordelia.' and lucie n jesse were like 'IM IN LOVE W A GHOST WHO'S THE SON OF A WOMAN WHO HATES MY FAMILY / shes only in love w me bc im a ghost and she likes writing stories so im one of her stories SHE DOESNT REALLY LOVE ME BUT I LOVE HER BUT IM A GHOST SO I CANT *REALLY* LOVE HER PROPERLY LIKE SHE DESERVES' and ari and anna were like 'OH I LOVE HER BUT I WANT KIDS SO I'LL MARRY CHARLES WHO, BTW, IS GAY :3 / OH I LOVE HER but im a stony heartbreaker women, lock your daughters and then yourselves im coming after you / oh my god i cant marry charles I LOVE YOU ANNA TAKE ME BAACK / ha! im stony heartbreaker.' and we all know the problem w matthew n cordelia, and alastair and charles AND grace and christopher (my heart stopped beating i swear to you). like i know Alastair and thomas definitely HAD to overcome some shit but Thomas KNEW he liked guys and alastair and alastair was pr sure about it too so when they got together, they GOT together ykwim??? no hanky panky. plus theres also the 'thomas-is-basically-michelangelos-david' so yea. no brainer. theyre my fav.

TMI: Alec and Magnus. okay so this is for both obvious reasons (fan favourite) and some other personal ones. Living where i do, i had no idea you could like the same gender as yourself or ltr anything about the LGBTQ+ community at all. These two were the first gay ship i had EVER read and they are what lead me to be as confident in my sexuality as i am right now. they introduced me to the concept of thinking beyond what i was told or shown by the people that surround me and look into the world the right way, without projecting judgement. i love them for that. theyre my comfort characters and the one of the biggest reasons i am who i am right now. also magnus is pr much why i adore glitter and i manage to put it on my face every other day ahaha

TDA: Diana n Gwynn. a very, very close second is Mark n Cristina n Keiran. but about Diana and Gwynn, they literally have my entire soul im not even kidding you. Gwyn is the first person Diana opens up to about her transition and its honestly so heartwarming that Gwyn, the leader of the Wild Hunt, known to be vicious and feared by faerie, is literally just there for her to lean on. He supports her and is so, so calm and soft with her it genuinely melts me. like, this man is basically the reaper of souls and he rides a magnificent steed into the night but hes so gentle with Diana. obviously my obsession w them is reinforced by the fact that the FIRST time Gwynn sees Diana he goes 'O' and is all like 'HELLO my fair lady beautiful one gorgeous strong lovely lady' and gives her an acorn like 'call me ;)' and diana my love just, THROWS the acorn to julian and emma and goes 'do w that whatever u will' and acts like she doesnt care and when they call on gwyn he comes to help nd immediately goes '...THAT WASNT FOR YOU but ig i'll help bc ur the magnificent lady's brats :/'

so yes thats it. now pls, whatever fucking ghost is haunting me with these thoughts, PLEASE LET ME SLEEP

[tycarstairs]

ok i need to talk about alastair for a (long) moment bc i love him.

this got a lot longer than i expected it to btw so ig it’s just for the alastair stans bc it’s basically just a character study lmao

first of all, there’s obviously this:

“I wanted you to have a childhood, a thing I never had. I wanted you to be able to love and respect your father as I never could. Every time he made a mess, who do you think had to clean it up? Who told you Father was ill or sleeping when he was drunk? Who went out and fetched him when he passed out in a gin palace and smuggled him in through the back door? Who learned at ten years old to refill the brandy bottles with water each morning so no one would notice the levels had sunk—?”

like he put so much energy into making sure cordelia could grow up loving and adoring her father in a way he was never able to. from age ten he was hiding his father’s alcoholism, even before he started at the academy.

“Alastair never acknowledging any of it, laughing it off, turning her attention in some other direction, always, so she did not dwell. So she would not have to.”

and then he got to the academy and had bullying and beatings added on top of all that.

“They … let’s just say that by the end of the first week, I had been made to understand my place in the hierarchy, and I had the bruises to remind me should I ever forget.”

like… does this excuse bullying? no, it doesn’t, but it does explain it, especially after he had taken all that for a year:

“After about a year of being knocked around,” Alastair went on, “I realized I could either become one of the bullies, or suffer for the rest of my school days.”

and as he says himself no, he didn’t beat anyone, didn’t get his hands bloody, but yes, he was a bully to save himself from the beatings.

and again, this does not excuse the bullying because of course that’s still bad. i just feel like a lot of people really fucking underestimate how much growing up with an alcoholic parent can affect you. especially when 1) you actually know about it, and 2) you’re the one who has to deal with it from age ten, and 3) they verbally attack you when they’re drunk (as we also saw when elias talked to james)

and then we get to this:

“Then you lot arrived, a bunch of boys from famous families, too well brought up to understand at first what went on far from home. Expecting the world would embrace you. That you would be treated well. As I never had been.” Alastair pushed back a lock of hair with a shaking hand. “I suppose I hated you because you were happy. Because you had each other—friends you could like and admire—and I had nothing like that. You had parents who loved each other.”

and does this excuse the way he treated them? again, no. but once again, it does explain it. alastair had dealt with so damn much since he was a kid so of course he’s gonna feel jealousy. alastair isn’t white, he’s never been able to go anywhere and expected that the world would embrace him as he put it, so that’s yet another thing he was more than likely jealous about.

and he knows what he did was wrong. he knows there’s no excuse, he knows they would all be well within their right to hate him for the rest of their lives if they wanted to, and i feel like so many people forget that?? alastair never expected to be forgiven for any of this.

and then we get to his sexuality and charles.

if i did the math right, alastair would’ve been either 16 or freshly 17 when he started dating a 23-year-old charles and to quote cc:

“it was a bad and unhealthy relationship, and i think the age gap is part of that.”

anyway, there’s one quote i’ve had in my mind ever since chog, and it’s when alastair asks charles, “If this is not what you came for, then why are you here?”

this implies that charles is only ever there for one thing. like, alastair is in love with this man and he wants to show that but charles isn’t letting him.

not to mention that charles is also dismissing alastair’s wishes:

“And I thought that you would agree to marry too.”

“That I would marry?” Alastair sprang to his feet. “I have told you over and over, Charles, even if I did not have you, I would never marry some poor woman and deceive her as to my love and regard.”

alastair having to tell charles over and over again that he’s not marrying a woman and charles still assuming that he will like… sir 🤨 he said no 🤨

anyway. then there’s to how he felt about his sexuality:

“Father’s weakness is not your weakness.”

The fire in the grate had nearly burned down. Alastair’s eyes were luminous in the dark. “I have my own weaknesses, as you well know.”

and after this when cordelia tells him that love isn’t a weakness, he responds with “isn’t it?”

like this man is comparing his own sexuality to the way his father treated him. you cannot tell me he was always okay with being gay because he so clearly was not, especially not with charles trying to keep him hidden and trying to make him marry a woman.

and after elias dies:

“I can’t mourn,” he said in a choked voice. “I cannot mourn my own father. What does that say about me?”

his relationship with his father was so ruined to the point where he couldn’t mourn him because he wasn’t able to love him in the way cordelia was, likely because he mourned his father already when he was 10.

and there’s also some of cordelia’s observations in choi:

Some months ago Cordelia had learned the emotional cost of Alastair’s interventions, the invisible scars he worked so diligently to conceal.”

the emotional costs being this:

“She knew Alastair was not always like this—she knew he could be kind, sweet, vulnerable even. She knew her father had broken his son’s heart a dozen different ways, and Alastair was doing the best he could with the pieces.”

like. elias has been breaking alastair’s heart over and over basically in every possible way since he was at least 10 so he’s really just doing what he can to stitch himself together at this point, the exact reason he put up walls.

“But it didn’t help for Alastair to behave like this, to retreat behind a cold facade as cutting as glass.

The way James retreated behind the Mask.”

alastair is basically just one big defense mechanism.

we also have thomas’ observations about alastair:

“There was only one other person Thomas had known with eyes like that. Not golden eyes, but dark, and so sad—he had always been drawn to that dichotomy, he thought, of the cruelty of Alastair’s words, and the sadness with which he said them. Sorrowful eyes and a vicious tongue. Tell me, he had always wanted to say, what broke your heart, and let such bitterness spill out?”

the answer to his question: elias.

elias broke alastair’s heart and left him to respond to everything with defense mechanisms.

alastair is such a complex character and he’s also one of my absolute favorites because of that. his relationship with his father is so realistic, and him distancing himself from everyone else because of his father is also so realistic. i just love this character with my whole heart ok

this is so long but istg i could write a whole essay about this man and ykw? maybe i will.

[isleofdarkness]

"But don't just take my word for it," Ace finished, nodding to McCoy. "I have witnesses. Six hundred and twenty-five of them, actually. Alastair would like to have a word."

McCoy pressed a button on his remote and a static buzzing started to play. Ace's eyes slipped closed and reopened so quickly it could have been a blink, but Jay had been learning. He could pick up on the iciness in those eyes that indicated Alastair had come forward. Alastair straightened as he got used to being in the body, eyes cutting across the room confidently. When those eyes focused on Beast, the grin that cracked across his face was nothing short of terrifying. "Oh boy, it's finally my turn, hm?" That voice, the ice-cold, silk-smooth drawl in the Queen's proper British accent, still sent shivers down his spine. "Let's see, where do we start? Hi," he waved sarcastically, "My name is Alastair, I identify as nineteen years old, and I'm one of the oldest alters in the system. I mean, I was created two weeks before Ace turned four. Think about that for a second and tell me you don't wanna walk into the ocean-"

"Get to the point, young man," Beast snapped, making Jay wince. It was a bad idea to talk to Ace- no, Alastair, he was Alastair- when he was like this. People had gotten killed for that on the Isle. Alastair was agreeable if he was respected as an equal, but when he wasn't... whoever had programmed him did too good a job creating the dreaded Ace of Hearts. Alastair was merciless.

"Wow, okay," Alastair clapped his hands together, eyes flashing dangerously. "So, first off, don't you ever fucking dare interrupt me like that again or I'll turn your insides outside. Second, you don't get to be impatient, you sorry excuse for a sonovabitch. You sent Ace to the Isle, you might as well have created us yourself, so you're gonna fucking listen to what you did to it and I'm gonna fucking narrate it however I damn well please. Disagree? Eat my fucking shorts.

"Now, as I was saying before this monstrous scum interrupted me..."

[edwinspaynes]

Genuinely wish the TLH canon dove a bit deeper into Charles and Alastair's relationship. Like yeah, the grooming and abuse are canon, but the text never actually calls it what it is and I feel like doing so would have been really powerful. I understand that the word "grooming" probably didn't exist, and I get that, but I feel like we needed to go a little bit further in describing the reasons it was fucked up at least.

Any reader with basic reading comprehension skills can see the reality of what happened. But it would have been really empowering to see it actually named what it was.

In fairness, I do think Cassie tried this in showing Alastair's direct reactions to Charles. His feeling sick when he looks at Charles is clearly a result of what happened, as is his insecurity after the infirmary scene. Also Charles like, harassing him in public in ChoI is insane. Cassie blessedly showed us these things, and his reactions and traumas regarding this are extremely relatable and recognizable to any survivor. I'm not actually upset about it. But I think we could have done more than skim the surface of this relationship without ever using actual words like "abuse".

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Simonteen posted this quiz about the Last Hours and one of the questions was "Who is Alastair's one true love" and like. Fucking 65% voted for Charles like what the actual fuck 💀💀💀