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#its weird idk what to do ):

bakudekublogblog · 25 days

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kacchan telling izuku that his body moved on his own is fucking crazy. like not only did kacchan remember izuku saying that all the way back from the sludge-villain incident but he’s also confirming that izuku’s crazy, boarder-line suicidal intensity is a two way street. it’s not just izuku who is insane about kacchan it’s mutual insanity. kacchan’s body moved on its own. he was helpless but to throw himself into the line of fire when he saw izuku was in danger. he didn’t think about it. he didn’t choose to do it. he didn’t have a choice. it was as if izuku was a piece of his own soul. katsuki instinctually needed to protect him above all else, even at the cost of his own life

#AND HE SAID IT OUT LOUD IN THE RAIN IN FRONT OF EVERYONE #bkdk #bakudeku #hey man just casually checking in uh I would die for you and not even think about it #you know how you almost kill yourself for me that’s like Mutual I guess idk what are we #do I tell my mom do I update my hinge profile #like izuku knows he’s weird about kacchan he knows he isn’t normal about him #and he ONLY threw himself into sludge villain incident when he saw it was kacchan.#and THEN his body moved on its own #and kacchan is the ONLY ONE who saw just how in danger izuku was #AND THEN HIS BODY MOVES ON ITS OWN #his body unlocks a new ability just to get to him faster #they’re just so deeply spiritually and physically connected and it’s MUTUAL

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skitskatdacat63 · 5 months

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Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

#yes its finals week and im up to my eyes in coursework but instead decided to spend like 5 hours researching and writing this post #nah bcs i actually genuinely put more work into this then I think I have all semester dsfjdskjg #that thing about him using a condom and teddy bear in a magic trick genuinely had me crying with laugher. actual tears rolling down my face #<- HOW!?!? WHAT WAS THE TRICK?? its literally inconceivable to me what he did. oh if only there were pics UGH #anyways!! this post was a lot of fun to make!! i really really love the symbolism and design of helmets so this was a rly fun project #and i also went down a lot of rabbitholes while make this and saw many very weird articles from yore #i feel like i make an equal amnt of deranged posts abt seb and nando but i dont know why nando is gifted w all my well researched projects #<- i.e. chair post. that was the same level of research as this one but at least this one i could find actual sources about....#idk theres smth about the extremely long history of nando's history that evokes research posts like this KLAJSLSKDJ #theres just so much that i dont think I ever really see people discussing! so i must create.#haha what was that joke tag i wanted to make abt my researched posts? I think:#normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion #<- one day ill go back and actually tag posts w that. bcs the amtn of research compared to my actual schoolwork is so unwell #fernando alonso #fa14 #f1 #formula 1 #catie.rambling.txt #we do a little bit of f1

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whmp · 6 months

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hey, it's me! i'm still alive, somehow, though just barely. this semester has been pretty tough so far and will probably remain that way until spring. despite this, i managed to add some fun new features. : ) ALSO i promise 100000% that if you sent me an ask i WILL answer it. i will. anyway, look at all those cool things! -> a system for cuts, bruises, tattoos, wounds and other decorations your whumpee's skin is an empty canvas. whether you fill it with scars and wounds or cutesy band aids is up to you!

the way this is set up is kind of like a bunch of stickers. so for example, if you decide to hurt the lil' guy with something sharp, he'll get a "stab wound" sticker in the spot you decided to target. over time, that sticker will change over to a "stab scar" one. it's a very flexible way to do things, but it still needs some work and a couple big changes, since it's very unfriendly to low-end computers. in terms of visuals though, it should look exactly the same as the decal-based "decorations" for your whumpee that you see above!

- a better way of getting that dude on camera the camera system is now a lot more immersive and will fit the story. the awkward developer cam that could clip into walls is no more.

you can drag around the view and zoom in and out by scrolling. as you progress, you'll get access to even more ways to invade your whumpee's privacy. : )

-> new ways to get horny in the last devlog post (around 1000 years ago) i said that you won't see any "horny accessories" in the upcoming updates. that was a complete lie, sorry! here's a preview of some cool new horns you can give to your whumpee.

the neat part is that the horns are customizable - other than just choosing the shape, you can modify their size and color gradient. -> other stuff + story i've made plenty of changes and additions to the back end. most of it is not flashy or super significant - most of the time and energy i could dedicate to the project went right into fueling the violent, bloody conflict between me and custom shader code. i've also made some updates to how time is simulated and fixed a bunch of bugs. there is now a sound system too! i'll look for some copyright-free sfx and music before the next update. oh, and there's some lore too!

i've been experimenting with different ways of delivering the main storyline. heavily stylized cutscene-like sequences were very fun to do! not sure if i'll stick with this style though. either way, i have the general outline of something that resembles a plot. >: ) that's it for now! again, sorry for the irregular update schedule. i've been following the "no progress for a long time, then one night you have all the energy and inspiration in the world and you zone the fuck out for an unhealthy amount of time just working on your thing then until realize that you're going to be asleep within the next 40 seconds" development strategy - hopefully, my brain will kindly allow me to switch to a more comfortable workflow. :' ) taglist below: (let me know if you want to be added OR LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT TO ADD YOU IM SO SORRY) @whumpinthepot @andithewhumper @pigeonwhumps @monarchthefirst @scp-1296 @whumpedydump @screenys-whump-corner @whumpshaped @bloodsweatandpotato @burning-and-remembering @thealmightyconeoftruth @whimpity-whumpity @catnykit @vietbluecoeur @rainythealias @cardboardarsonist @snakebites-and-ink @lthrboy @woo-lu-woo @wingsofadragonsstuff @wecoffphm @bayvel @pics-and-fanfics @dokidokisadness @generic-whumperz @lambetjenasus @aarika-merrill @hayaneakabane @moons-cozy-corner @brittaunfiltered09 @rule-masochism @reverie1234 @oddsconvert @wh-wh-whumpified @currentlyinthesprial @cupcakes-and-pain @heavenlyden @whumpsday @likeadeadbattery @stay-on-topic1 @cyborg0109 @kawhump @astrowhump

#whumpdev #whump community #whump art #whump game #whumblr #whump #this took forever SORRY #there's still so much more to do but i'm really excited to start implementing new stuff #i gotta get myself a trello board with features or something #or anything that resembles a plan tbh #planning is hard but you know what is even harder? sticking to a plan #and that difficulty SKYROCKETS if its a plan you made yourself #man idk i gotta check if i don't have adhd or something i feel like this might not be the way an adult brain should operate #ill do some research later if i don't forget??? i'm always so skeptical of thinking to myself “i might have this disorder”#cuz i feel like i'm super hardcore prone to some weird bias and i wouldn't trust my own brain to diagnose itself #i don't trust that fucker in general

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quatregats · 1 month

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Something I've been thinking about is how Patrick O'Brian manages so skillfully to write characters whose actions contradict their beliefs, which I think is honestly a big part of why his characters feel so real. Mostly with Stephen and Jack—e.g., and perhaps most notably, Stephen has notably leftist sympathies (honestly I have no idea how to characterize his politics in period terms) who nonetheless becomes very comfortable with his rise to the landed gentry, while Jack is a card-carrying Tory who much of the time sympathizes far more with working class sailors and farmers than with the upper classes—but I'm sure he does it to a lesser degree with some of his minor characters (James Dillon, while perhaps not precisely minor, comes to mind), and I love that he's able to do that, especially the way in which he embeds it in the narrative. We see how they're all unreliable narrators of themselves; we understand how they want to be seen and how that does and doesn't coincide with the reality, but most importantly, this isn't presented as something reprehensible, just as a part of their own humanity. They are not their expectations for themselves, but they don't need to be those expectations to be beloved.

#stephen is especially guilty of this and i think it's very interesting how he thinks of himself versus how he acts #which is probably an essay on its own #but i do think that this is another point he and jack make a fun foil on #(for jack this manifests much less explicitly but i think it's definitely still there)#i can't think of other characters atm besides james dillon #(who okay. his actions don't contradict his beliefs exactly but there is a weird and complex relationship between them)#though i do suspect that there are probably more #idk i've been thinking about this a lot because o'brianizing hornblower has brought to the forefront #how different those two authors treat internal/external narratives #patrick o'brian is kind of like yeah they don't really line up but that's okay that's just what it's like to be a person #while for hornblower and cs forester it's like the internal narrative is so unbelievably unreliable and negative #but the external narrative also seems to be resoundingly positive #(which is probably why. in my humble opinion having watched two episodes of it. the tv show is much more Fun)#writing hornblower in o'brian format is just like wow there is no weirdness going on did i write him wrong #but no it's hornblower he just sounds so much more normal without the 24/7 mental gymnastics #perce rambles #aubreyad

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greensaplinggrace · 2 months

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sorry but the funniest little splashes in this fandom to me are still the people that are like "how can you ship _!!" okay well first of all, gladly. and second of all... do you not know how shipping works.

"how can you think this ship is morally acceptable?!" i don't. "how could anyone think this relationship is ok?!!" they don't. " how could shippers condone such actions-!" we don't. "how could anyone like something so terrible??" maybe go out in the real world. idk. or join a non tiktok braindead bookclub.

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #also non fandom people in the real world like all KINDS of fucked up ships idk what to tell you #its so weird to me when antis are like 'go talk to a family member'#'go see how fucked up you are in comparison to normal people for shipping this'#girl do you know how many 'normal people' ship lannicest #do you know how many of them ship spuffy and bangel #except they do it without all the weird discourse lol #discourse #negative #darklina #sab discourse

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brewstersbru · 2 months

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Queerplatonic Radioapple 📻 🍎,,, old men (losers) who care abt e/o

The thing about being an angel is that there are always bloodier, messier ways to do things. There’s an easy way, and there’s a fun way, and despite what they would have you believe, angels are much too bored with eternity to choose anything but the fun way anymore.

Lucifer curses whatever twisted being made him and bestowed his powers upon him- God- then backtracks in his own head, still deathly afraid of being heard and punished. Then, once he remembers that no one is listening, haven’t been for centuries, he curses them again.

Charlie is worried about Alastor. He hasn’t been acting himself these past few days. Rarely leaves his tower unless summoned, his smiles have become tight-lipped and straining. Even with the cursory attention Lucifer has paid him- busy with trying to make up for too many years in a hole- it’s not hard to see that Charlie is right, and something is wrong.

All it takes is a quick, plausibly accidental stroll outside of his rooms to tell Lucifer what it is. Charlie hadn’t asked him to snoop, but she’s nervous. Doesn’t want to lose another friend. Lucifer would do anything and everything to Fix It, and in order to get to that point he needs to know what’s wrong. So he snoops.

The pungent reek of demon blood poisoned with holy light permeates the air around Alastor’s rooms. To anyone but Lucifer it probably doesn’t smell too different, Alastor has very obviously put a lot of effort into covering the stench with rancid deer meat, and gamey sinner. Lucifer knows what a holy wound smells like, though, hell he’s not sure why he didn’t recognize it before now. Alastor’s obviously put in work to keep this a secret but it shouldn’t have worked for this long against the literal king of hell. He’s distracted, too comfortable, needs to sharpen the hell up if he has any plans of actually protecting his daughter and her passion project in any meaningful way.

Once he knows what is wrong, it’s not difficult to devise a fix. What is difficult, is coming to terms with what that will entail.

The way he sees it, there are three ways out of this situation. One, he tells Alastor he knows that he’s still hurt and offers to heal the wound through touch, which will take approximately an hour after which they never have to speak again. That one’s mostly a bust simply because Lucifer reckons Alastor won’t let him get past the first part without mauling him.

Two, he lets Alastor die of being a stubborn, pissy bastard. This one’s not really an option considering the whole reason he’s going through all of this trouble is so that Charlie will stop worrying. Killing him won’t stop the worrying, no matter how much he wishes it would.

Finally, unfortunately the only feasible plan, is to siphon the poison from the wound over time. Slowly imbuing Alastor’s soul with his own, tainted holy energy in order to heal the wound over time. If he does it right, Alastor won’t even know he was healed. The unfortunate part about this plan is that it doesn’t rid the wound from existence like a touch would, it simply transfers it from one soul to another. Lucifer will be taking the wound onto himself, where he can work on healing it naturally, as his body is not poisoned by the purity of angelic wounds. It will hurt, but it will heal. If the wound is left on Alastor, it will never heal.

Begrudging, but still determined to be as useful as possible to Charlie before he inevitably fucks everything up again, Lucifer resolves to go through with plan number three. It takes a week. Seven days of gradually increasing pain, of magicking golden stains from his coat, then being winded from using magic, of sewing himself together each night only to wake up in a pool of his own blood because the wound had grown larger while he slept.

It takes seven days, but at the end of it, Alastor is as chipper as ever, and the crease between Charlie’s brows has smoothed into something joyful. The wound now spans the length of Lucifer’s chest, wrapping around his torso near his ribs and up to his rightmost shoulder blade. Honestly, he’s not sure how Alastor survived so long like this and feels a grudging respect at the man for having pushed through.

The wound throbs, and every so often it will twinge, as if Lucifer were being cut in half- scored and carved all over again- but when he walks downstairs on the morning of the eighth day and finds Alastor cooking, Charlie seated, legs kicking happily at the island… He knows it’s worth it. Any amount of pain would be worth the sheer relief on Charlie’s face as she tracks Alastor’s every move, still looking for any irregularities. Something like pride swells within Lucifer at the knowledge that she will find none. He did that. He brought her that solace. No one will ever know, but that wasn’t the point of it.

“Good morning your majesty!” Alastor crows from the stove, he doesn’t turn to greet him. For a moment Lucifer wonders how he had known he was there, but a pair of eyes glinting in the shadows of the hallway tells him all he needs to know about that. Charlie perks and glances over at him as he’s addressed.

“Good morning, Alastor! You seem awful chipper today, feeling better?” No one will know he helped Alastor, yes, but that doesn’t mean he cant have fun with this. Just the look on his face right now- a smile, frozen, as his brows draw inward in incredulity- is worth the twinge that talking elicits.

Alastor, always the performer, recovers easily. “I’ve no idea what you mean! I have not been sick in decades, your majesty.”

Lucifer only chuckles, hiding his wince by taking a seat next to Charlie at the island. God why does it hurt so much? Why can’t he focus on anything else? Michael had torn off his fucking wings and stabbed him through the heart with blessed steel when he cast him down to hell and he can’t handle a little holy light from Adam? Eternity has made him soft. It’s fucking pathetic.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to presume. You had Charlie worried!” He grits, trying to keep his voice even and chipper. Charlie smacks him on the arm and he has to fight off a groan. Fucking. Worthless.

“Dad! I wasn’t- I just- UGH.” She stutters, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I still can’t believe we sent you to deal with Adam alone. That never should’ve happened, Al, I’m so so so so sorr-“

Alastor cuts her off with a grin, sliding a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of her. “No need, my dear! As you can see I’m right as rain and in one piece.” His eyes slide over to Lucifer for a moment and he hums.

“Would you like some breakfast, your majesty?” He asks, turning back to the stove. Lucifer shakes his head, then regrets it when it makes him dizzy.

“I’m alright, thank you. Had a big dinner.” He manages. Alastor hums again, and Lucifer isn’t sure whether that means he believes him or not.

Charlie finishes her meal in quiet, comfortable conversation with Alastor, some of the other hotel residents who stop in for a bite and, occasionally, Lucifer when he manages to push down the nausea enough to speak without fear of barfing all over her nice pantsuit.

She leaves with little fanfare, but she does pull Lucifer into a side hug that, while agonizing, he will cherish forever. The rest of the ‘reformees’ make their way through the kitchen for the next thirty minutes until Charlie calls everyone to the atrium for some bonding exercises. Alastor does not make any move to leave the kitchen at the announcement, so Lucifer doesn’t, either. He’s also unsure of his ability to not pass out if he stands right now.

It’s so warm in the kitchen, Alastor had the ovens on for cinnamon rolls and it smells heavenly. If Lucifer closes his eyes, he can almost imagine that Lilith is still here, that he hasn’t fucked it all up with Charlie yet. He dozes on the thick marble of the island, chest still twinging, but strangely at peace.

It’s another five minutes of warm silence before the clink of a plate beside his elbow rouses him. A warmth settles to his right.

Blinking his eyes open, Lucifer catches sight of Alastor looking at him. Through him, might be a better description of the action; his eyes rove, calculating over the planes of Lucifer’s face. Alastor isn’t frowning- he never frowns- but there’s a crease between his eyebrows. Maybe those are like wounds, too, they don’t heal they just transfer to another person. Maybe Charlie’s just transferred to him, like his wound had transferred to Lucifer.

Lucifer snorts to himself at his own little joke. The crease deepens.

“You were not at supper last night.” Alastor prompts, finally. Lucifer isn’t quite sure how that’s relevant right now.

“Yeah, and neither were you.” Check and mate. A bit of radio static pierces through the air at his quip. Lucifer smiles to himself, sitting up.

With the knowledge that he’s under scrutiny, he puts more work into affecting his usual trite joviality. Alastor simply raises a brow as he hands him a fork and gestures to the full plate in front of him. Lucifer is shocked still for a moment. Alastor made this food. He made it, and he’s giving some to Lucifer? Of his own volition? Lucifer takes a moment to rack his brain for any side effects of the siphoning that might make him act like this but the only possible explanation is the sheer adrenaline of relief, knowing you’re not dying anymore.

“You made this for me?” Lucifer asks, voice small. He can’t remember the last time someone cooked for him. Hell, he can’t remember the last time he ate anything. He doesn’t need to, not really, but it’s nice when there’s love in it. When someone takes the time to care about him in this way. Lucifer’s never found himself all too worth cooking for, and that’s most of the reason why he didn’t, in all those years spent alone since Charlie and Lilith leaving.

Alastor rolls his eyes.

“Obviously. It would be rude not to indulge, you know. So get to it!” His voice is filled with static, it takes a moment for Lucifer to parse his words. He takes the proffered fork and takes a small bite of the scrambled eggs. Father Almighty. They’re perfectly fluffy, well seasoned and just the right temperature! Lucifer can’t help the pleased sound that escapes him at the taste. He glances up at Alastor to find that his grin has turned smug. Whatever. Lucifer’s not going to lie to him.

“This is really good. Thanks.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Lucifer takes another bite before asking, “Do you want some? I know you haven’t been eating, either, and you probably need it more than me.”

Alastor’s eyes narrow and Lucifer gets the creeping feeling he’s let something slip.

“This is the second time you’ve referenced an invented affliction of mine. I would appreciate if you refrained from now on.” Alastor hisses, the air around the two of them practically sizzles with electricity.

‘Imagined’ hah! He wishes. Lucifer raises an eyebrow, he makes it too easy.

“You’re awful defensive for someone who supposedly didn’t have an affliction.” He drawls. Alastor’s eyes flicker green as he stands, abruptly.

“Put your dish in the washer when you’re done. I will see you another time.” He grits, stalking out of the room. It’s not until he leaves that Lucifer notices that he’d cleaned everything up. The sink is empty and the stove is spick and span. The only dish left is Lucifer’s plate and fork; he’d saved him a portion.

Lucifer does as told and hobbles up to his rooms with a smile on his face and a full stomach. Maybe this whole siphoning thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

***

This siphoning thing was such a fucking bad idea. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Lucifer curses to himself as he hobbles to the bathroom situated on the skywalk between his and Alastor’s rooms. His stitches had popped in the middle of one of his unfortunately timed yearly nightmares about falling. So, on top of the popped stitches, he’d scratched his arms bloody, too. Usually when he gets like this he doesn’t bother leaving his room, the cuts will heal themselves as soon as he gets to his door, anyway. But with the extra energy his body is expending on healing the Adam Wound, they just keep bleeding, sluggishly.

It’s been a couple days and the wound has been looking better, but it’s slow going. Lucifer shudders to think what would’ve happened to Alastor if he’d kept trying to live with it. Speaking of Alastor, the bastard’s been making him breakfast every day now; and if Lucifer doesn’t make it down during the hour he spends cooking, he sets aside a portion and puts it in the fridge.

Lucifer doesn’t know if this is his way of being nice, or if he’s luring him in to try and poison him one of these days. Either way, it’s always nice to be cooked for. Poison wouldn’t work on him, anyways.

There’s a pit in his stomach, growling and gnawing for something warm to satiate it- something Alastor-made- as Lucifer bleeds ichor onto the carpet. He pushes the feeling, and the resulting shame, down deep within himself. How low can he get, really? Fuck. Pining for kind gestures from a man who ostensibly wants to kill him? How far can he fucking fall.

The door to the restroom is open when he gets there, which Lucifer is all too thankful for. He pushes, with some effort, into the darkness.

A part of him considers turning on the light, but he has no issues seeing in the dark, and it seems like a lot of work to go through for no reason. With a groan, he bends down to grab the medkit from below the sink, then sits himself on the closed toilet.

With shuddering breaths, he snaps his shaking fingers, doubling over as his night shirt dissipates. “God- fuck!” He sucks a breath through his teeth.

Lucifer stays folded over for a moment, taking the time to breathe once, twice, before unfurling into a now familiar agony.

He grabs a hand towel and shoves it between his teeth to muffle any unwitting noises he might make- he’d found out the hard way that he’s a screamer a long time ago- and threads the suture needle with dental floss. He ran out of actual suture thread yesterday and, not wanting to alarm Charlie or let anything slip, hadn’t asked where he could find more. Dental floss has worked before, and it’ll work now. It just won’t be as pretty as it usually is.

Lucifer has just begun stitching himself up- letting little whines and whimpers into the hand towel tightly clenched between his teeth with each tug of the floss- when the door to the bathroom bursts open and a humming Alastor strides through the threshold. He flicks on the light- though Lucifer’s unsure why, as he doesn’t need it to see, either- and immediately makes eye contact with Lucifer. Then the hand towel clamped in his teeth. Then the giant bleeding wound on his chest. Then the eight golden scores in his arms.

His eyes widen a fraction, then narrow into a glare.

He strides up to Lucifer and grabs at his jaw, but the hold is surprisingly gentle. Alastor runs a finger along the area until it loosens enough for him to wrestle the towel from his lips.

Lucifer’s not sure if he should feel threatened or not. It’s not like Alastor can do anything to him. Not anything he hasn’t felt before, at least.

Why is the steel in his eyes so terrifying, then, though?

“Explain.”

Alastor says the word quietly, but somehow his voice seems to echo in the room. Lucifer sits tall, unwilling to be made ashamed of what he’s done. What he’s tried to do, to help.

“You never would have let me close enough to heal you through touch. You know that. And Charlie would have been devastated if you died because you were too much of an uptight prick to let other people care about you. This was the only way. I’ll heal. You wouldn’t.”

Lucifer’s voice is raspy, a little hoarse from the agony of the night. He has to clear his throat a few times during the monologue. Alastor stares at him through the entire thing, eyes burning against the side of his face. It’s silent for a while and Lucifer is acutely aware of the fact that he’s still bleeding.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have sutures to-” Alastor cuts him off with a vague scratch of radio static, “Give me the needle.”

Lucifer hesitates, so he repeats himself, enunciating each word.

“Give. Me. The. Needle.”

Lucifer does. He’s nervous for a moment- god knows why- but it’s like he’s been telling himself: Alastor physically can’t do anything to him that hasn’t already been done. He’ll be fine. Alastor pulls a stool from thin air and settles himself next to Lucifer.

He expects a sharp, focused pain. Tiny cruel little stabs done in excess to teach him a lesson about doing Alastor ‘favors’. But Alastor’s hands are warm and gentle against the golden shreds of his midsection. Each suture is measured and careful, he moves slowly through the motions and keeps a steadying hand against Lucifer’s side as he works. He does not look at him, though, entirely focused on the task at hand.

The gentleness is off-putting, and it makes something flighty bang around in Lucifer’s chest. He suddenly feels the urgent need to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Alastor. I should’ve asked but I was afraid it would take too long. I’m surprised you’re still alive now given the state the wound was in when I first transferred it.” Lucifer chuckles. Alastor does not join him. He babbles on.

“I don’t regret it, though. And I’d do it again if I needed to. I mean have you seen Charlie lately? She’s got the pep back in her step! And you, you’re up and cooking again. Everyone’s so happy you’re back in the apron.”

Alastor hums, finishing up the sutures on his chest and immediately moving to the deepest gashes on his arms. Lucifer is just about to protest- really, those ones will heal soon enough, they don’t need anything- when Alastor speaks.

“What about you?”

Lucifer cocks his head. Huh?

“What about me?” He asks.

Alastor chuckles, pressing some antiseptic into a different hand towel than the one Lucifer had been biting on and passing it over the- now sewn- cuts on his forearm. The sting barely registers. It’s so needless. It’s so wasteful.

“You speak of all of these benefits but I fail to see how any of them pertain to you. Aside from your obvious need for your daughter’s approval, of course.” He says.

That stings a little, which is strange because none of it is untrue. Of course he wants Charlie’s approval; it’s the fucking least he could do after everything he’s made her face alone.

Lucifer shrugs, pushing Alastor’s hands away when they try to tend to his other arm.

“What’s it matter? I don’t need the benefits to ‘pertain to me’, I don’t do anything for these people,” he spreads his arms around to emphasize his point, “not like you or Charlie do. Besides, I’ve been selfish enough already, don’t you think?” The gesture he makes this time is similar to before, but he points through the restroom door to the window that lines the skywalk. Moreso conveying the idea ‘see what my selfishness has already culminated into? Eternal damnation for millions of souls’. Alastor raises an eyebrow.

“And what would your daughter think of this… philosophy of yours?” His voice is low, and he reaches out to grab Lucifer’s arm back into his own grip. Still gentle, but firmer than before. Lucifer doesn’t fight him on it and his eyes light up at the success. That’s… oddly endearing for a murderer-cannibal.

Lucifer shrugs once more. He doesn’t really see the point Alastor is trying to make, he’s thought this through. He knows what he’s doing.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? She’s never going to know and we’re going to keep it that way. She’s got a bleeding heart, probably got it from her old man,” Lucifer chuckles self-depreciatingly, ��it wouldn’t do her any good.”

Alastor finishes with the last bandage- more unnecessary, needless waste on wounds that will heal tomorrow- and runs the antiseptic towel under warm water before wiping Lucifer clean of his own blood. His touch is just as light as it was before, it’s driving Lucifer insane. Why won’t he just hurt him already. He knows he’s itching for it.

“You are not what I thought you would be.” Alastor says, finally, tossing the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. His eyes raise, finally, to meet Lucifer’s own shocked gaze. He can’t muster up a response; what is he supposed to say to that? Is it a good thing? Probably not. A bad thing? Well, then he doesn’t need more fuel for his ‘bad thoughts’ journal.

Thankfully, Alastor continues, “Next time, simply come talk to me. I don’t want this to happen again.” He stands, brushing imaginary dust off of his overcoat- which, now that Lucifer is paying attention, why is he still in his overcoat at three in the morning?

Lucifer snaps his fingers- now embarrassed by his own state of undress and reinvigorated by the tender touches- and rematerializes his nightshirt. Alastor levels him with a disapproving glare when he reels from the exertion.

“Now why did you go and do that? I could have gotten you a shirt, and then you wouldn’t be dizzy. Pity you’re so stubborn.” He comments, with just the slightest tinge of frustration. It thrills something in Lucifer to be able to get that reaction out of him, even in this diminished state.

“Yeah. Pity. Look, I’m not going to promise you this won’t happen again. I’m going to do what’s best for Charlie and this hotel, always.” Lucifer’s voice breaks a little at the latter end of the sentence, he can’t bring himself to meet Alastor’s eyes.

There’s silence for a moment, then a clawed finger flicks delicately at his chin, tilting his head up. Alastor sighs when he keeps his gaze low.

“Stubborn. I am not asking you not to do it- you were right, I probably wouldn’t have gone for the touch healing- I am asking you to do me the courtesy of checking first, before you act. Is that clear?”

Lucifer mulls over the words for a moment, considering his options. All in all it’s not a bad deal, and if this experience has taught him anything it’s that it’s nice to have someone in your corner, willing to help if you let them in. Charlie is in his corner, but she’s also his daughter, and it will never be her job to help him with anything for as long as he is alive. Alastor’s offering.

Lucifer nods, hesitantly.

“I can do that. Thanks.”

Alastor shakes his head before turning towards the door.

“Put some of the green tube on your chest wound every night before bed. If your arms don’t heal by tomorrow, add some there too. Don’t exert yourself. I’ll know if you pop your stitches again.”

And with that laundry list of care, he disappears into the night. Lucifer looks at the stitching on his chest, wondering if he was being serious, or if he was just bluffing about knowing.

Three cross stitches glow a neon green right next to each other in the middle of his chest “X X X”.

Ah, so that’s how. Sneaky bastard.

Still, though, Lucifer smiles all the way back to his room, and if he notices a shadow tailing him on his way there, he doesn’t say anything about it.

#radioapple #queerplatonic #old men #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #theyre so odd and weird about affection #oh u didnt maul me and u made me food?#what do u like me or smth?#something something giving a monumental sacrifice and acting like its nothing bc if you dont you have to grapple w the fact that you care #anyways #brublurbs #enjoy idk how long this is but it took four hrs to write !

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