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#wishing for something but also expecting nothing
midnightcrw · 1 day
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Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing
a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2
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If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.
And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.
"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.
And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.
"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.
They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.
"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.
"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.
"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.
"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.
When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.
And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."
A little too far back, you thought.
"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.
"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.
You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.
Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.
And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.
At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.
It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.
"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.
"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.
"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.
Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.
And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.
"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.
I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.
"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.
"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.
"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.
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And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.
"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.
"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.
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"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.
"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.
"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.
Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.
Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.
He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.
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"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.
"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.
"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"
A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.
"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"
At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.
"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"
Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.
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And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.
"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.
"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.
"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.
Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.
"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.
"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.
"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.
Fuck... you thought.
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etherealising · 2 days
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chapter fourteen | your love is not too kind
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masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣
pairing(s): carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x fem!reader
summary: you begin your hunt for a special surprise, while cortez and syd gang up on you. also an adventure between you and carmy ensues where you both receive advice from two very nosy old ladies, out of love of course. (honestly just a fun incoherent day with our two losers).
warning(s): angst | addiction | substance abuse | recovery | hopelessness | minimal editing | ooc carmy |
wc: 7.6k (thass a lot of filler)
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The harsh cold of the Chicago air sporadically whipped across your face, the wind cut into the small patches of skin that weren’t covered by the scarf you chose to wear. You occupied yourself with the loose bits of concrete surrounding the sidewalk, kicking a few rocks around with the toe of your boot, one hand tucked tightly into your pocket while the other began feeling numb as you held your phone up to your ear.
Your eyes found Cortez’s figure inside the small cafe the two of you decided to meet up at, a smile tugging on your lips as you watched him converse with the person behind the counter while he waited for your orders.
The voice of the event planner on the other line continued droning on about what was expected of you at the gala tonight as if they hadn’t spoken to you in the months leading up to the gala or profusely sent you emails with an itinerary. You wished there was some way for you to get out of the whole ordeal, a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have minded but now you were resigned to spending your night with Hayden and a bunch of other mediocre middle-aged men who would pay you compliments for everything besides the journalistic work you pride yourself on.
You let out a small sigh followed by a noncommittal hum as you listened to the line go silent for the final time, stuffing the phone into your jacket pocket just in time to gratefully receive the to-go cup of hot cocoa Cortez patiently held out to you.
A nod of appreciation was sent his way as the two of you began your walk to the restaurant, your brows furrowed at the neatly wrapped box in his hand that wasn’t occupied with his cup of tea, “You buy the whole bakery or something?” You nodded towards what you assumed was a pastry box when he looked over in your direction.
A small smirk pulled at his lips “Nah, after ya little story about that sad ass baby shower you threw for Natalie, thought I could bring her some pastries ya know since I ain’t get no invite or nothin’.” You rolled your eyes slightly shoving your elbow into his side as you laughed him off.
“Aren’t we like not supposed to have a personal relationship outside of this sponsor sponsee situation?” A slight smile tugged at your lips as you listened to Cortez’s scoff.
“The way yo ass use me like a personal diary we might as well be fuckin’ friends.” Cortez turned his head away from you hoping it was enough to hide the small uptick of his lips, but it did next to nothing as you caught a quick glimpse of it.
You opened your mouth to respond, apologizing lightly to the stranger you almost ran into while your eyes were on Cortez. The man let out a huff of annoyance before carefully balancing his cup of the pastry box and then looping his free arm through yours.
“Bad enough I gotta listen to yo dramatic ass life stories, now I gotta be yo guide dog too?” Regardless of the quiet laugh he let out to signify he was joking, you weren’t sure how you put up with constantly being roasted by the man whenever you were in his presence.
You took another sip of your hot cocoa appreciating the way it warmed you from the inside out, a thought coming to you as you fixed your hold on the cup. “You seemed to know that barista at the cafe pretty well.” It was hard to keep the curiosity out of your tone, hoping if you avoided his stare he wouldn’t clock that you were trying to pry into his personal life.
Cortez let out a chuckle shaking his head at your antics, finding it amusing that you wouldn’t just outright ask him whatever questions you had considering all the times he’d intently listened and advised any dilemmas you went through. “Damn girl, you hella nosy!”
It was hard to hold back the laughter that began to bubble in you at those words, Cortez’s innate sassy nature was something you would always appreciate about him. “Nah I’m playin’,” the almost shy smile on his face cut off his words, and the reaction surprised you. “But uh, I been frequentin’ that cafe for a bit. They uh asked for my number last time I was there, we been talkin’ and shit.” He shrugged it off like he didn’t just tell you the most exciting news you’d heard all week.
Although his complexion didn’t allow for a blush to spread across his cheeks, you could tell he was flustered just by the way he was trying to hide his smile. “Talkin’ and shit hmm,” your imitation of him drew a frown from the man. “Is that all the two of you are doing?”
Cortez chuckled at the teasing undertone in your voice, “Ion really think that’s ya business ma.”
A quiet scoff left you at Cortez’s answer of course he would give you a morsel of his personal life, only to take it away when you got too curious. You didn’t mind though his life wasn’t really any of your business but you sure as hell liked to bug him about it like it was.
“What about you, still cut up over homeboy who stay playin’ with you?” If you spent any more alone time with this man you were sure your eyes would permanently get stuck in the back of your head from all the rolling they did.
“You don’t have to say it like that and actually ‘ion really think that’s ya business bro’.” The laughter from the two of you came immediately at how ridiculous you sounded when trying to mimic Cortez’s vernacular. The strange look from those gathered around you as you waited to cross the street did little to appease your good humor.
The two of you continued the rest of your journey in mostly silence unless one of the two of you made a quip here and there. You weren’t sure what compelled Cortez to tag along with you to the restaurant especially since you’d spoken in length about how you were doing with your sobriety back at the cafe, if anything you were sure Cortez’s nosiness was catching up to him and he wanted to put a face to all the myriad of names you mentioned. But you’d pretend his excuse about seeing Natalie was legitimate.
You stopped in front of the restaurant, the windows covered and not allowing anyone on the outside to see in. You looked back at Cortez for a moment, eyes narrowing as you watched a smug smirk grow on his lips, “What’s that look for?”
His smirk widened as he leaned around you opening the door, “Nothin’ ma just excited to meet that loser you stay fuckin’ cryin’ over.”
You scoffed turning to enter the restaurant, only to be stopped by the sound of Nat’s voice coming from behind the two of you causing you to turn in your tracks with a smile on your face as she approached both of you. Pleasantries were exchanged as the three of you headed inside, your eyes landing on exactly the person you were looking for as you excused yourself from the conversation.
As you made your way further into the restaurant, you realized what was so different about it. It was weird the more you looked around, you realized just how much things had changed thus far. In reality, the only major change you could pinpoint was the lack of walls, but it was also more than that to you, it was no longer the restaurant you once used to come to on the weekends when you and Carm were kids. While most of the foundation was the same there would be no more looking at a particular spot and being sucked into a memory from all those years ago. It was refreshing, to say the least, but it also felt like the last tangible piece of Mikey was being torn down bit by bit, piece by piece.
Nat’s laugh broke you from your reverie, your eyes finding her still locked in conversation with Cortez, whatever stress you’d seen on her face outside had calmed a bit as she spoke with the man. You turned moving to the man you were here to speak to, eyebrows furrowing as you watched Syd look at dishes on the table.
“Fak, hey mind if I cut in?” You waited for his response watching as his eyes darted between you and the man he was speaking with, the latter sending you a welcoming smile as he held his hand out to introduce himself.
The panicked look on Fak’s face as he fought the urge to step away and speak with you made it clear whatever he was doing with Tim was important, so you decided he could be privy to the conversation.
“If I let you in on a super secret mission, you have to promise me Carmy doesn’t find out.” You looked down at Fak in his seated position, the rapid nod of his head enough to let you know your words caught his attention.
You looked around the restaurant just to make sure Carmy hadn’t made a surprise appearance before turning and taking the nearest chair to sit in, leaning forward and beckoning Fak with you, Tim watching from his place next to Fak somehow just as intrigued.
“Okay, I need you to tell me everything you know about what happened to Mikey’s jean jacket, you know the one with that cool blanket lining?” You watched as realization flashed across Fak’s face.
His hands flew to his mouth as he tried to hide his excited laugh, the noise drawing not only Syd’s attention but Nat and Cortez’s as well before they returned to what previously held their attention. Your eyebrows furrowed as you shushed him hoping it wouldn’t draw anyone else’s attention.
“You’re trying to find the jacket for Carmy!” Your eyes widened at how loud he said Carmy’s name, regretting your decision to do this at the restaurant. “So is this like a lover’s gift because you know I’m Carmy’s best friend,” he paused, wincing as he looked at you. “No offense Baby, but you’d be like the coolest fucking girlfriend ever if you found that jacket for Carm.”
While Fak’s excitement made you feel hopeful that getting the jacket would be easier than you once thought, you needed to nip this idea of you and Carmy being an item in the bud before Fak got too carried away, no matter how much the idea warmed you inside.
“Uh…no, no Fak were just friends, but if I’m going to relieve you of best friend duties- thanks for stepping in for the past 10 years by the way,” you gave him a small wink. “I need your help to find that jacket, please.” The puppy dog eyes weren’t necessary but you needed to assure his help.
Fak kept quiet as he looked at you, both of you easily ignored Tim as he sat watching the stare-off between the two of you intently, waiting for one of you to crack. It was immediate the way Fak deflated into himself the excitement still there as he began telling you the information he knew.
You politely nodded along as Fak went off on various tangents, paying extra attention as he recounted Carm being beaten up by someone in a carrot costume, wanting to keep that in the back of your mind just in case you needed it. A few more attentive nods and quiet “mhms” left you before Fak finally gave you something you could work with.
“Chi-Chi? And you’re sure he has the jacket?” You were surprised, to say the least, but after listening to Fak explain how tough things got at The Beef, you understood the need for quick cash. Your mind tried to remember how you overlooked the state of the restaurant when helping out Richie last year.
“Thanks, Fak I really appreciate the help, don’t let Carm find out though please?” You raised your eyebrows hoping he realized how serious you were, your eyes dropping to his extended pinky before letting out a quiet laugh and connecting your pinky’s in a pinky promise.
You gave Fak one last smile in thanks before apologizing to Tim for interrupting their riveting conversation about music and returning the chair to the table you stole it from. As you looked up you caught Syd’s knowing smile out of the corner of your eye, the seat next to her occupied by none other than Cortez, a smile of his own lining his lips.
“Don’t you two just look cozy.” Your voice was sarcastic as you looked between the two of them, sure they heard the whole conversation and even more sure that Cortez provided Syd with commentary. Your eyes fell to the small wares lined up on the table trying to distract yourself from Cortez’s smug grin.
Cortez cleared his throat, “Baby?” The smile was evident in his voice before your eyes shot up to his. “Oh that shit was serious,” he paused on a laugh hand moving to wipe across his mouth. “Not you walkin’ around lettin’ grown ass men call you Baby.”
You looked in Syd’s direction for help, an awkward smile lined her lips as she looked between the two of you. “It’s a childhood nickname, why are you still here anyway?”
He shrugged finger tracing across one of the plates, “Nat asked me to stick around for lunch, and ya girl over here was starin’ at these dishes hard as hell, thought she could use a pastry.”
Your eyes narrowed at Cortez’s words, his hands holding out the pastry box to you in offering. Nat wasn’t around to corroborate his story but you also knew he was just as nosy as you and probably took up Nat’s offer in hopes of meeting Carm, you brushed it off before turning back to Syd.
“Why isn’t Carm helping you with all this?” Your hand moved in a gesture to everything set out on the table, you could feel the tension radiating off Syd like it was something palpable.
The look on Syd’s face was a mix of irritation and exhaustion as she looked at you before looking in Cortez’s direction, the man all ears as she decided whether or not to talk about what was plaguing her in mixed company.
“Oh, you know Carm, everywhere and nowhere,” she gave a forced laugh before finding your eyes, the look on your face telling her to cut the shit. “He’s stressing me out more than I already am, which isn’t great. There’s so much to get done and when I bring it up he’s already working on a million other things, or he’s just not even here”
You nodded understanding her frustration, “Makes sense, is there anything I could do to help maybe?” It was a shot in the dark but you understood how Carmy could get, and Syd didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his shenanigans.
“I uh…maybe like I dunno, not occupy so much of his time…please?” Syd wouldn’t meet your eyes as she fiddled with the plate closest to her turning it back and forth. You were too shocked to say anything, Cortez’s chuckles filled the space your voice hadn’t.
“Damn ma, you just out here makin’ everyone’s life fuckin’ harder huh? Thought I was special.” Cortez sent you a small pout as you turned in his direction.
You sent him a mocking pout to match his, tired of being bullied by the man in front of you. “I’m sorry, why the fuck is the peanut gallery speaking?” He rolled his eyes mocking your words before you looked back in Syd’s direction, “Listen, Syd, I didn’t realize I was monopolizing all of Carmy’s time, and I apologize for any stress I’ve caused you, but for now on I’ll be more mindful of your time.”
Syd sent you a small smile, her shoulders relaxed as she realized you weren’t upset with her. Could her words have been nicer, maybe, but without them you wouldn’t have realized just how much Carmy spending time with you was taking away his attention from the restaurant. And while Syd definitely should’ve voiced her concerns to Carm, you were sure she was taking the less volatile approach by speaking with you.
The sound of Syd calling Carmy over drew your attention, your eyes immediately met Cortez’s as his eyes moved from a spot behind you before landing on yours. The two of you had a silent conversation through your eyes, trying your best to shut down any thoughts running through Cortez’s mind as a smug smile graced his features, hands raising in acquiescence.
A warmth at the small of your back had you turning to Carmy. His body now stood next to yours, you tried to tame your smile in front of Cortez not wanting to give him any more ammunition to tease you with. It was subtle but you felt the warmth of Carmy’s fingers trace across your lower back before his hand fell to his side.
“Hey,” his voice was breathy, quiet as his eyes roamed over your face taking inventory. “Are you good, did you eat?”
You gave a soft nod doing your best to ignore the way Cortez and Syd turned to look at each other in your peripheral vision.
“Homeboy just looks lost 24/7 don’t he?” Cortez’s words met your ears, you listened as Syd hummed in agreement, your eyes turning to the two culprits, Carmy’s following shortly after. Cortez stood up after that leaning over the table with his hand outstretched, “Good to properly meet you, kid, seein’ as we ain’t get a chance to talk last time I saw you.”
Cortez’s words confused you, eyes following the hesitant way Carmy’s hand met his. “You two know each other?”
Cortez shrugged smirking in your direction, “I ain’t say all that,” he paused before his eyes shifted to Carmy’s eyes his smirk widened. “Baby over here, talks so fondly bout you homie, feel like I already know you.”
You rolled your eyes at Cortez’s antics letting out a sarcastic laugh before gesturing between the two of them and speaking, “Cortez meet Carmy, Carmy meet Cortez.”
Carmy stood tensely beside you his fingers bumping into yours as his hand moved across his body to scratch his tricep, “I uh, remember you…from the church.” Carmy began nodding his head, this whole situation was news to you but it made sense considering neither man knew who the other was until today.
“That’s great, this is great. I love reunions, quick kinda off topic question which plates should we use to serve our guests, or are we going for a whole like BYOP vibe?” Syd’s hands gestured to the table with the various choices on it.
It was quiet for a moment as Carmy’s eyes flashed across the selection, “What’s BYOP?”
“Bring Your Own Plate.” Your voice along with Cortez’s rang out in sync before the man raised his hand towards you waiting as you reached out to high-five him both of you laughing.
Syd and Carmy shared a moment staring between the two of you before their eyes met. Carmy couldn’t understand it but for some reason seeing you and the man he now knew to be Cortez reminded him of you and Mikey.
“Um, this plate.” Carmy’s hands reached for a sleek black plate that you admired as he set down.
Syd grimaced before speaking up, “Well, that's 55 bucks a plate for that type of silence, so... ”
Cortez let out a low whistle as he leaned in closer to look down at the plate, “Damn y’all got money, them some nice ass plates.” Cortez looked up at the silence that fell over the group, “I can see my opinion ain’t wanted,” he raised his hands in surrender. “But when you got time I’ma need the name of the designer cause these mugs is fresh as fuck.”
You let out a quiet laugh, Syd’s mouth twitching at the corners from Cortez’s humor, “I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday…are sponsees allowed to gift their sponsors, things?”
“The best gift you could get me is yo ass shuttin’ the hell up.” Syd tried to disguise her laugh as a cough when you glared at her, you even saw Carmy’s lips twitch from the peripheral vision.
Before you could respond Nat made her presence known joining the group with an envelope of some sort in her hand. You tuned out the conversation Carmy and Nat engaged in as you occupied yourself with the dishware on the table, cataloging the pieces you thought were nice in your head.
Syd’s tired sigh pulled your attention as you caught the end of the conversation, Carmy offering to drop something off for Nat.
“I can drop that off, that way you two can stay here and get all the hard work done.” The voices quieted as your suggestion rang out, your eyes flashing around the group waiting for a response.
Nat nodded as she began handing the envelope over, “Will you have enough time to get ready for the gala tonight?”
You shrugged not caring too much about the event as you gripped the envelope. Before you could wander off and grab your belongings Carmy spoke up, “I’ll go with you.”
Remembering Syd’s earlier words you offered him a small smile before shaking your head back and forth, “Don’t worry about it, you’ve got plenty of stuff here to worry about.”
Cortez laughed looking between the group gathered around, “Damn it takes two of y’all to drop off a little envelope.”
Carmy ignored his teasing as he began speaking directly to you. “Did you drive here?” You shook your head no at his question, “So you’re just gonna walk all the way to Winnetka?” You weren’t sure when Carmy had become so sassy but you stood there staring at him with a slight smile on your face at his persistence.
“Oh my goodness please just go!” Syd’s words pulled the two of you out of your staring contest, “Just Carm, can we please go over plates and napkins when you get back, maybe even the chaos menu?”
Carmy listened to her request and nodded before turning to you nodding his head and signaling for the two of you to leave. You sighed feeling bad that you were once again occupying Carmy’s time, but the quicker the two of you got this errand done the quicker Carmy could return and get the important work done.
As the two of you moved away from the group, you couldn’t help the small smile as you listened to Syd and Cortez begin a conversation regarding Coach K.
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The quiet song playing on the radio was the only noise filling the space of the car, your thumbs twiddled against the steering wheel, eyes locked on the pile-up of cars in front of you. You could feel Carmy’s eyes searing into the side of your head when he stole glances in your direction, for someone who was so adamant on joining your journey, he sure didn’t have much to say.
“Sometimes when I dream, it's always these fucked up scenarios where I’m in a car and I just don’t know how to drive.” You looked over to Carm to see his eyes already on you before continuing. “I always get in these accidents, like the brakes don’t work, or I just fucking crash right? And like what if this is one of those dreams?”
Carmy let out a quiet cough as he looked between you in the driver's seat and the cars ahead of you, “Is there uh…ever any passengers in your dreams?”
You smirked at his question before shrugging, “Sometimes but they never actually have a face, their faces are just smooth.”
“You know how fucked up that sounds?” Carmy’s voice was incredulous as he caught your eyes once more, the two of you sharing a laugh at the whole thing.
While an unusual conversation started, it did the job to break whatever tension had settled between the two of you, as you could see Carmy’s body relax into the seat out of your peripheral.
“So Cortez…he’s your uh sponsor?” Carmy listened as you hummed in approval of his question, his eyes strayed to the way your hands moved to signal a lane change.
You weren’t sure why you agreed to drive knowing how much other drivers pissed you off, “My sponsor, personal pain in the ass. Same difference.” You gave Carm a small smile as you checked the passenger side mirror before merging.
Carm nodded debating whether the questions racing through his mind deserved to be spoken aloud. “What’s it like?” There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Carmy realizing just how insensitive the question was, “Shit uh…you don’t have to answer that.”
Carmy’s question rang through your head as you thought of how to respond. You weren’t sure if meeting Cortez made him so curious or if he had underlying questions since finding out about your accident, it was worth mentioning that your experience wouldn’t help him understand Mikey and his experience even more but that wasn’t a conversation you wanted to get into while driving.
“It’s a lot of fucking discipline,” you stopped trying to gather the best way to articulate your feelings. “There’s this romanticized idea of what being a recovering addict looks like, and it's honestly a bunch of bullshit. People think you make the choice, you get clean, and then like fucking magic you’re just cured.”
Your eyes were hyper-focused on the road as you drove, the words pouring out of you without a second thought. “I’ll be a recovering addict for the rest of my life, there’s no end to this shit. My whole life is different now, the day I chose to use, will affect every single choice I make going forward.”
“And I don’t think I have to tell you, but this shit is a disease. I’m fucking sick Carm, and there’s no getting better, not really. Recovery is like putting a bandaid on a wound that needs fucking life-saving surgery, but the surgery doesn’t exist and you just hope to fucking hell your bandaid will last. I used to be one of those people you know…I thought addicts just had to get clean and all was good again but then I lived that shit.”
Carmy hung onto every word intently, watching the sheen that overcame your eyes as you followed the GPS directions on autopilot, your hands tightening around the steering wheel every few moments as he lost you.
“It’s a lot of pretending too…for me at least, pretending that I’m fine, pretending that the urges aren’t there slowly eating away at me if I give them too much thought.” You paused sniffling as tears fought to drip down your face. “P-pretending I didn’t tell Nat it was her fault that M-Mikey passed, that she should’ve paid more attention as I laid there saying the most vile things hoping they’d give in and just give me something. Pretending I don’t spend days locked away in my room as thoughts of just using one more time bring on bouts of anxious tremors.”
Carm watched you from his spot in the passenger seat, through all that you somehow managed to safely navigate the two of you to your destination. His chest felt tight as a few tears slipped down your cheeks, his eyes catching sight of the way your grip slackened on the steering wheel, the appendages shaking slightly. He could feel the disgust rising in his chest as he realized if it weren’t for his curiosity you wouldn’t be upset.
Carmy unbuckled himself, hands reaching out to collect yours between his. Your unfocused eyes found his as he gave you a minute to collect yourself, the embarrassment of the moment washed over your face. “Sorry, I probably should’ve taken Cortez up on his offer to meet more often.” You let out a pathetic laugh hoping the severe look of concern on Carmy’s face would slowly ebb away.
You allowed him to unbuckle you before his hands found yours once more, you watched as he brought them to settle against his warm chest just barely realizing the slight tremors radiating off of them. He held your hands against his chest allowing the warmth to help calm you down, the steady beat of his heart bringing the comfort you needed.
Carmy’s hands moved from their place atop yours before moving to pull you into his chest as best he could. Neither of you said a word about the uncomfortable way the center console dug into your stomachs. As Carmy’s warm lips pressed into your temple you relaxed into him as much as the positions allowed for his arms bringing you the comfort they always did.
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You were thankful that Carmy agreed to the pit stop you’d asked him to make. After sitting in the parking lot for longer than necessary you realized it would be easier to pick up your dress now rather than Carmy dropping you off at home and then leaving to pick it up.
The gentle squeeze to your hand stole your attention, your eyes were staring out the window, not focused on anything in particular as you debated whether to attend the gala or just forget about the whole thing and spend your night home alone. You turned to face Carmy, a small smile on his lips as he nodded to the house he’d parked in front of.
Both of you exited the car meeting up in front of it before you offered him your best encouraging smile and led the way to the door. The warmth radiating off his body behind you is the only notion to let you know he followed you before your hand reached to press the doorbell.
It was a few minutes before a voice yelled from inside the house, noises met your ears as the door was yanked open. The screen door made it difficult to see exactly who stood behind it, but the dramatic gasp let you know who it was.
“Well I’ll be damned Baby, you sure do know how to pick up stray…dare I say bears.” The joke was mediocre at best, but it was Ms. Sadie’s high-pitched laugh that stole a giggle out of you as you turned in Carmy’s direction, eyebrows raised in amusement.
Ms. Sadie left the two of you on the porch, quickly unlocking the screen door as she moved slower than she once did all those years ago, the sound of the lock was enough of an invitation. “We won’t stay long I promise,” you knew just how uncomfortable being social made Carmy. “Take off your shoes.”
Carmy nodded as he watched you step out of your shoes before moving inside his motions following yours. He hadn’t seen Ms. Mable or Ms. Sadie since returning to Chicago, he honestly wasn’t sure they were still alive, but he remembered just how much the two women loved you all those years ago and while he was never as close with them as you and your mom, he felt his cheeks warm at the idea of you bringing him to their house, it didn’t mean anything but he couldn’t help the way his mind read into it.
“Mabel! Baby’s here, and she brought her little friend.” Carmy followed you through the living room as Ms. Sadie’s voice rang through his ears, his eyes floated around the room landing on several photos of you throughout the years, his hand reaching for a photo of the three of you at what he assumed was your college graduation. Carmy’s eyes studied your smile frozen in time, your happiness practically radiated through the picture as you stood in your cap and gown. He knew he would never have these memories with you, and knowing that everyone else besides him celebrated your successes no matter how big or small would always stick with him.
“Carm,” the whisper of your voice made him look in your direction, finding your hand reaching out for him, he gave you his small signature smile before replacing the picture frame.
Carmy allowed you to lead him through the house before the two of you stepped into the sunroom, Ms. Mabel sat at a table, a game of chess in front of her. His fingers twitched as your hand left his to greet the woman, watching as you dropped down to hug her, the older woman’s eyes landing on his as they lit up. He stood awkwardly trying to ignore the glare Ms. Sadie pointed his way as her partner whispered something in your ear. Your soft laugh rang through his head like a breeze in the early morning.
“Carmen Berzatto, you just gon’ stand in my house and not say nothin’?” His eyes widened as he looked between you and Ms. Mabel, mouth opening and closing as he watched a slow smile rise to both of your faces. “M’ just messin’ with you honey, Baby’s been tellin’ us about the restaurant, been wonderin’ when she was gonna bring your round.”
A tense smile raised to his lips, the sense of uncomfortableness slowly ebbing away as you moved back to his side. “Baby, why don’t you go on with Mabel and get your dress, I’ll get Carmen here to help me in the kitchen. I know y’all can’t stay long so we’ll send y’all off with some red beans and rice. How that sound?”
Carmy gave you a reassuring smile as you looked in his direction, he couldn’t voice it but Ms. Sadie intimidated him and he knew her suggestion wasn’t a question but more so a demand as his eyes flitted to Ms. Mabel trying to hide her chuckles behind her hand. His head began nodding before he even realized, your hand reached to give his a light squeeze followed by the smile that was etched into his memory as you and Ms. Mabel left the two of them.
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You stepped from behind the partition beaming as Ms. Mabel gasped, clapping her hands. You did a little spin once you made it to the middle of the room stepping on the raised dais so the older woman could assure the alterations were perfect. You watched the woman move around in the mirror thankful for her agreeing to make the few alterations you needed, staring at the way the dress hugged the shape of your body made you feel a bit better about the gala tonight. You hoped the confidence you felt as you stood there would translate to the event and help you get through the night.
“So, you and that Berzatto boy.” Ms. Mabel’s words had a knowing undertone as her eyes met yours in the mirror, a kind smile on her face to let you know her curiosity was genuine.
You gave a slight shrug trying not to show just how flustered the question made you, “We’re friends again if that’s what you're asking.”
Ms. Mabel’s smile widened in the mirror before her mouth opened taking the form of an ‘o’ as she gave you one more once over. “Do you permanently alter your body for all your friends?” The question was paired with her cold fingers tracing the amalgamation of lines that now ran down your spine, a quiet gasp escaped you at the feeling. “Now I was born at night Baby, but I wasn’t born last night. And I know for damn sure you didn’t have this tattoo when I first took your measurements.”
A warmth flushed over your body at having been called out by the older woman as she gestured for you to step off the dais and join her on the settee, your mouth opening to respond.
“Hush up for a minute now,” her wrinkled hands reached out to cup yours as they fiddled in your lap. “It’s beautiful work Baby, don’t get me wrong but I would like to see you find the happiness you deserve before I leave this Earth.” She waved you off as you opened your mouth to protest, “Now Sadie and I ain’t gon’ be here much longer and we love you like you’re our own. But don’t you think you’d be happier if you let that boy go?”
A sigh deflated your body as you took in Ms. Mabel’s words it would have been easy to get defensive and fight tooth and nail for Carmy like you usually did, but you knew she was only asking because of how much she cared about you. You allowed yourself a few seconds of silence as you thought of your response, searching for the best words so as to not disrespect the woman you held in such high regard.
“I think I would be a lot happier if I let Carm go,” saying the words out loud left a bitter taste in your mouth and you weren’t sure if it was the remnants of truth left on your tongue or heartache. “But letting him go wouldn’t remove the space he’s made for himself in my life. We lost contact for 10 years and even that wasn’t enough for me to forget the memory of him. It’s like,” you paused your eyes looking up into Ms. Mabel’s before continuing.
“The love I have for him is burrowed deep in me, like roots. And it’s more than just being in love with him, it’s the love I shared with him growing up, in friendship. I don’t know Ms. Mabel, maybe it would be easier if we didn’t encompass each other’s lives in the way we have, a-and maybe it’s stupid of me to one day hope he could devote himself to me, but whatever love I have for him, I’m just not sure I could find it in someone else.”
The crow's feet by Ms. Mabel’s eyes crinkled up as she offered you a warm smile, her hands squeezed yours as a way to translate the care she had for you. “You know I was married before Sadie right?” Her question had your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t love him, hardly knew him but all women were good for back then was marryin’ and homemakin’. There was someone else though, and the shame those feelings caused me put enough fear in me to marry that man. And he was a good man, treated me right, respected me, but I just couldn’t love him the way I loved my Sadie.”
There was little surprise on your face as Ms. Mabel revealed the identity of the person who held her true affection. “I won’t get into all the messy details, but when I was finally free of that marriage Sadie and I found our way back to each other, and it was then that I knew, no matter what I could never love another soul in the way my soul loved Sadie’s. So no Baby, it’s not stupid but you can’t allow that type of love to live rent-free in you if whoever’s on the other end of it ain’t returin’ the affection. Sometimes Baby it’s just best to love from afar.”
Ms. Mabel pulled you into a warm embrace as she finished talking, hoping that her words wouldn’t just go in one ear and out the other. “Now gon’ on and get outta that dress you done let me talk your ear off so long you might not have enough time to get ready.” She smiled as you laughed along with her before stepping behind the partition to redress.
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You and Ms. Mabel stepped into the living room laughter left the both of you as you maneuvered the dress bag so it didn’t get caught on any of the shelves. Carmy and Ms. Sadie seemed to be in deep conversation as the two of you entered the room, a part of you surprised at how comfortable Carmy looked sitting on the plastic-wrapped couch.
“Sadie stop talkin’ that boys ear off Baby needs to go home and get ready.” The sound of Ms. Sadie sucking her teeth caused you to laugh as Ms. Mabel mumbled about how the other woman talked too damn much.
Ms. Sadie said something to Carmy before rising from the couch taking both of their mugs with her before returning with a plastic bag full of Tupperware, “Oh Baby, you got that little fancy gala tonight don’t you.”
You looked in her direction as you moved through the living room to reach Carmy’s side, “Yes ma’am, Ms. Mabel’s alterations were perfect as always.”
“Mhm, so Carmen here is your plus one?” She raised her eyebrow in question as she handed the bag of food over to the aforementioned man.
You tried to ignore the heat of Carmy’s eyes as he turned to look at you. Shuffling in your spot as you looked to Ms. Mabel for help while she pretended to pick up the nonexistent dust particles on one of the shelves. You weren’t sure why she was even asking this question, you’d explained to both of them you were unsure about inviting Carmy every time Ms. Mabel asked.
“W-well I would love for Carm to come with me,” you looked in his direction as his eyes fell to the floor, a blush coloring his cheeks. “But it’s last minute and who knows if he even has a suit. A-and I’ve taken up too much of his time already. Syd really needs him back at the restaurant.”
Ms. Sadie narrowed her eyes at you being able to smell your bullshit before you even opened your mouth. “Well, speak up Carmen.”
You watched as Ms. Sadie raised her eyebrows to Carmy as he looked up, the older woman trying to communicate something without using words. “N-no…uh yeah, Baby’s right I uh gotta get back to the restaurant.”
Ms. Sadie didn’t even try to hide her sigh of disappointment as she shooed to two of you out of the house, Ms. Mabel joined her partner as they walked you and Carmy out to the porch, “We’ll see you for Sunday dinner right Baby?”
You nodded before being pulled into a hug by both women receiving kisses on both of your cheeks, “And you bet not show up here without Carmen.” Ms. Sadie’s words tickled your ear as she whispered to you before pulling away. You gave her a confused smile while nodding, since you’d been back in Chicago Ms. Sadie had made her disapproval of the youngest Berzatto clear, and you couldn’t pretend to know what had changed in the 30 minutes she was left alone with him.
Ms. Mabel and Ms. Sadie stood on their porch waving you and Carmy off as they watched his car pull away. “What got you invitin’ Carmen to our house for Sunday dinners?” Ms. Mabel looked up at her wife having heard her whisper to you, “Thought you didn’t like that boy after everything.”
The taller woman shrugged her shoulder before wrapping her arm around Ms. Mabel’s waist, “That boy just needed some sense smacked into him.” Before Ms. Mabel could open her mouth to protest, Ms. Sadie hushed her. “I’m just messin’ but before you scold me for not mindin’ my business you better figure out which one of us is the pot and which one is the kettle.”
They divulged into boisterous laughter as they stood there in each other’s embrace. Relishing in just how well they knew each other, “If that hardheaded boy don’t make his move tonight I’m uninvitin’ his ass from Sunday dinner.”
Ms. Sadie’s heart warmed as she watched Ms. Mabel’s face light up from just how much she laughed. Ms. Sadie led the smaller woman into the house, and although her jokes regarding the Berzatto boy got raucous laughter from her lover, she sure would be put out if she sat her old ass on that couch talking sense into that boy instead of watching her program and he decided the wisdom she kindly bestowed upon him didn’t need to be put to use.
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a/n: i know this was a bit much for a filler chapter but i promise it sets up a very important story arc that we’ve all heavily been anticipating. hope you all enjoyed, hope you’re all doing amazing my loves! reblogs and comments are much appreciated! 🫶🏽🤎
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bestworstcase · 1 day
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option 1: tai’s guarding the crown of choice.
pros:
a legitimately important task that recontextualizes his ongoing decision to remain on patch as a personal sacrifice he makes for the greater good.
ozpin would pick the guy named for the god of light to be the gatekeeper of choice, huh.
if any parent in this story is meant to die, it’s him, and narratively this is the most intuitive way to do it.
cons:
realistically, what can tai do to prevent salem / cinder / summer from accessing the vault if they find it? if he’s the gatekeeper, staying on patch alone after everyone else evacuates achieves nothing except, ah, signaling to the enemy that the real vault is under signal academy. bad plan.
it means oz is breaking his promise to be honest and forthcoming, undermining his character growth for the sake of ‘surprising’ the audience with the most obvious answer.
means qrow has either been kept in the dark (see prev point) or he’s also deliberately hiding this information from his nieces after they asked him outright if he knew where tai is; this is so far afield for his character as to border on character assassination, and likewise undermines his positive growth since v7.
honestly makes both yang and ruby seem kind of stupid. they know the crown is hidden somewhere near beacon, that ozpin did something to protect it differently from the others, and that their father hasn’t left patch. ruby was sharp enough to guess that long memory might be a relic hidden in plain sight; yang is just as smart, and she knows tai had “some things” to look after on patch. are we expected to believe that “hey, is dad guarding the relic?” somehow hasn’t occurred to either of them?
tai harbors a whole lot of resentment toward ozpin, and based on qrow kicking him out of ruby’s bedroom to drip-feed her hints on where to go next, he seems to have been on the outer perimeter of the inner circle. why would oz entrust him with the relic’s safety?
glynda—ozpin’s scrupulously loyal second-in-command whose emblem is a crown and whose semblance puts her on par with a maiden—is a far more narratively plausible vault-guardian than tai, and the “sun dragon” makes a damn good red herring.
if he’s guarding the vault, he dies. sorry. but the point of putting the father of 2/4 protagonists in between the two main villains and the thing they want most (choice) is so they can kill him to get it, increasing tension and raising the emotional stakes of negotiating peace. to be clear, rwby is willing to Go There, but i think it’s an unsatisfactory way to close out the rose xiao long family arc.
option 2: survivors trapped under mountain glenn, and tai is taking point.
pros:
a genuinely important, worthwhile thing for him to be doing—even more so than guarding the crown. likely sets up a resolution for him in the vein of “you can be a good huntsman or a good father, and tai picked being a huntsman,” which is an elegant way to balance his contradictions.
gives him meaningful stuff to do in v10; for example, one stealthy huntsman with a bullhead could slip in and out of mountain glenn to get a few dozen people out at a time, and/or run supplies and messages between the kingdoms.
we get to see zwei back in action around mountain glenn :)
introduces a natural segue from playing defense in vacuo to mounting a counteroffensive against beacon as tai’s work clarifies the situation in vale.
easily the most 'heroic' direction for him without contorting the story to arbitrarily lionize tai: he’s a scout preparing the stage for the heroes to take the fight to salem, making him the good counterpart to watts.
cons:
makes no sense to keep it a secret. the emotional beats of B4 can still happen if the girls know this is what tai’s doing: instead of “do you… wonder why he’s not here? i know qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here?” yang says “do you… wish he were here? with us? i know qrow said he’s looking for survivors, but how many of them can there really be by now? we need all the help we can get,” and ruby says “maybe we don’t have the full picture” as in maybe dad knows something we don’t and that’s why he hasn’t given up yet. the emotion is the same, and the big "they’re hiding in mountain glenn" reveal is hinted without spoiling.
leaves hanging the narrative thread of what tai has been doing since the fall of beacon, because the “some things” he was dealing with in v4 obviously wasn’t this.
option 3: tai is dead.
pros:
explains the apparent secrecy; qrow knows tai was away “on assignment” (i.e., had taken a huntsman contract that brought him out of the kingdom) at the time salem attacked vale, so he is missing but not yet presumed dead.
might reopen the mystery box of summer’s last mission through the real-deal “left on a mission and never came back” echo.
cons:
raven would know.
it’s a cheap, narratively unsatisfying twist that fails to deliver on the bread crumbs set up in v2-3 (tai starts going on missions again) and v4 (“some things”), and also undermines any serious emotional resolution with regard to yang and ruby’s complex relationships with tai.
option 4: summer’s working with salem, and tai is trying to convince her to come back.
pros:
“some things” being his presumed-dead wife who left him to join the enemy and with whom tai is now having an affair or otherwise hoping to coax back to the heroic side through the power of love whilst also keeping his mouth shut about her being a) still alive and b) a traitor is OBJECTIVELY the funniest answer.
brings forward and interrogates the way tai’s romantic grief informs the choices he makes as a parent: from hiding raven and then refusing to talk about her with yang, to shutting down when he lost summer and letting his five-year-old pick up the pieces, to discovering and then keeping summer’s secrets for the sake of some faint hope that she might finally come back to him.
cogent with the Dead (Absent) Mother / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother fairytale paradigm rwby deconstructs with raven, tai, and summer; the father chooses the stepmother over his children.
raises the emotional stakes of the war for summer through direct confrontation with the life she left behind, creating narrative opportunities to develop her character (is she still in love with tai? how does she feel about being his first priority, over their children? does she resent that he has her on this pedestal even now?) and apply pressure to her relationships with salem and cinder (do they know? is summer keeping her communication with him a secret, too? or is he an “asset” she’s using for salem’s benefit?).
consequently, raises the momentum of the narrative toward negotiation with salem; tai still has the coalition’s trust, however strained his personal relationships may be. summer is the obvious ambassador for salem’s side of the war, but she’s also the traitor who needs someone to vouch for her good intentions.
the secrecy needs no explanation: just as summer’s last mission was a summer secret, tai’s "assignment" is a taiyang secret and the girls know everything that oz and qrow do, because all of them have been left in the dark. raven might know, and she has the means to find if she doesn’t, but tai’s whereabouts are entangled with what raven knows about summer, so she can’t explain where tai is or why until she reveals her deep dark secrets about what happened between her and summer that night.
foreshadowing is solid: tai starts to go on "missions" again in v2, after the inner circle becomes aware that salem has infiltrated beacon and just before the breach downtown. when ruby visits summer’s grave in v3, she says "[dad] told me he’s going to be on some mission soon! i think he misses adventuring with you." he’s got to "look after some things" (but he isn’t talking about yang, because he stays home after she leaves). and then with B4 we have ruby echoing what the blacksmith taught her about summer in relation to tai, "maybe we don’t have the full picture?"
juicy
cons:
???
dependent on the unconfirmed theory that summer is working for salem as herself, not some unrecognizable enslaved monster, but i am as confident in that as i was about salem going to vale next and we all know how that turned out :)
taking their mom was not enough salem had to go for the full set APPARENTLY
option 5: secret fifth thing
pros:
???
cons:
???
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mentally-a-slut · 3 days
Text
Staring Problem (Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader)
Rating: M (a little spicy, nothing too bad)
Summary: An innocent staring problem evolves into something out of your most romantic fantasies.
Note: Okay, so I just whipped this up to show y'all what my writing would look like, it's really last minute and unedited so don't expect too much, but I hope you like it! It's a little messy because I just kinda started writing with no real idea, but please leave feedback! Also, if enough people want it, I am open to doing a smutty part two :) enjoy!
You hadn't thought you were being obvious with your staring, but were very quickly proved wrong when Mary-Beth slid up next to you, giggling. "Enjoyin' the show?"
You spluttered and blushed at the young woman's implication, lightly shoving her. "I'm not staring!"
She giggled again and gave you a look. "I don't blame you, I do it all the time. Nothing better to do than watch the men chop wood, especially if I'm supposed to be doing chores."
"Mary-Beth! Where is that girl?"
Mary-Beth gasped. "Oops! Gotta go!"
She scuttled off back to her table, frantically fiddling with the needle and thread to make it look like she was sewing. You sighed as you tore your gaze from her, eyes settling back on the man in front of you.
Of course, you were staring. Pretty damn hard, too. But hey, when Arthur Morgan is swinging an axe in the blazing sun, sleeves bunched up around his elbows, you just have to stare.
You knew you should at least be more subtle about it, instead of standing there uselessly leaning on a wagon, but whenever your eyes snagged on him, it was almost impossible to tear them away.
You'd lost all shame anyway, ever since he sort of confronted you about your crush. It had been an awkward conversation, one filled with stuttering and apologies. He hadn't expressed any discomfort, though, and simply acknowledged the fact that you liked to stare. He didn't outright reject you, but you knew better than to read into things. And even if he wasn't interested, who were you to deny yourself a show if he didn't mind giving one?
You only tore your gaze away when you heard Miss Grimshaw turning the corner, and you hurriedly tried to look busy. It usually worked, and you were back to staring as soon as she was out of sight.
You inwardly sighed when he sent the axe splitting through the last log. Show's over.
Even as he leaned the axe against the stump and turned to leave, you couldn't avert your gaze. The light was hitting him just right, golden rays bathing his tanned skin and making him look like an angel. Your face burned when he turned and met your gaze, and he simply tipped his hat with a smile. Sometimes you wished he would straight up say something about it instead of letting you ogle him. The heat that rushed to your face every time you were caught was stifling.
You had to resist the urge to follow him and see what he was getting up to next, instead settling on joining Mary-Beth. She looked up at you with a teasing smirk when you sat down, glancing behind you at the man who held your attention. "Show's over, huh?"
You rolled your eyes, sighing. "...Yeah."
She burst into giggled at your confession, dainty fingers going up to cover her mouth. "What's so funny?"
You started at his voice, the closeness of it surprising you. You turned to look at him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You could've sworn there was a knowing smirk on his lips, but you chalked it up to the sun in your eyes. Even though you were facing away from the sun.
"Nothing!" you said too quickly.
"We was just talking about how she was staring at you chopping that wood."
You whipped your stare around to Mary-Beth. She just giggled and shrugged, acting innocent. "I- I wasn't-"
"S'alright, I know you were."
His words only made you want to shrink into yourself, never to see the light of day again. Mary-Beth took her leave, teasingly waving goodbye. She had just left you alone, with Arthur, a blushing mess.
"I don't- you-"
You all but yelped when he sat next to you on the log bench, close enough for your legs to brush. "If I didn't like it, I wouldn't let you do it."
"I didn't mean to stare!"
He chuckled, a low noise that traveled through your body and left goosebumps in its wake. "Yeah, you did."
You tried to come up with a valid explanation that wasn't 'I think you're really hot,' but came up short. "I'm sorry, I-"
"No need. I think it's cute, your little staring problem."
You didn't think you could blush anymore, but there he went, making you lightheaded with his words. "You... me, cute?"
His eyes met yours, and you had to stop yourself from swooning. His eyes were so blue, like shining crystals in the sunlight. "Yes, you. I thought it was obvious."
"What was obvious?"
He rolled his eyes affectionately, calloused hand brushing against yours. "That I'm sweet on you."
All coherent thought disappeared from your brain at that moment. "Huh?"
Your skin tingled as his hand grasped yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours. "I like you, sweetheart."
"Is this a joke?"
He chuckled. "No. I know I didn't really go about it right before, but what I meant to say was that I feel the same. It just... didn't come out right."
Your whole body was on fire, overwhelmed at the feeling of him so close to you. "So... you've liked me back, this whole time?"
"Mhm."
"Oh. That's... good."
"Just good?"
Your eyes found his, shining with emotion. "You know what I mean. I just can't believe..."
He stared at you, eyes shining with what must have been admiration. With his hand still holding yours, he stood, tugging you with him. "C'mere."
You stumbled after him, too awestruck to think. He led you to the spot you liked to stare at him from, the wagon obscuring the two of you from the rest of camp. Your back was to the wagon, his frame towering over you and he stood in front of you. He was close, close enough for you to lean forward and be chest to chest.
"When you stand here all clueless, drooling over me like nobody's watching," the hand that wasn't holding yours came up to rest against your cheek, "I have to force myself to keep working and not march over to you and kiss you til you can't breath."
You let out a strangled sound, breath hitching as he leaned closer. You were now trapped against the wagon, his body resting against yours. It was the best trap you'd ever been caught in.
"And when you look at me with those big, lovestruck eyes, I just wanna grab onto you and never let go."
A sigh that sounded more like a whine escaped your lips, knees threatening to give out beneath you. "Keep going."
He chuckled at your words, brushing his lips so, so close to yours.
"When you're concentrating on something, and you make those cute little noises, all I can think about is how I wanna bend you over and see what pretty little sounds I can get out of you."
"Holy shit," you whispered, eyes fluttering as his lips barely brushed against yours.
With a shaky sigh, you grabbed his collar and pulled him toward you, crashing your lips together. He let go of your hand, gripping your waist and holding you close. His lips were warm against yours, gently molding against yours. You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his short strands. An involuntary whine slipped from your lips, and it was swallowed by his increasingly desperate kiss. His hand slowly moved to your back, pressing you closer.
When his tongue brushed against your lip, you gasped, and he hummed against you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You recovered quickly, meeting his tongue with yours with matching desperation. Your fingers closed in his hair, tugging lightly. He groaned softly, and the sound traveled straight to your core.
When he pulled back for air, he kept his face close to yours, blue eyes darkened as he looked down at you. "You're so pretty like this, all whiny and desperate."
His praise elicited another whine from your lips and you pulled him back against your lips. This time he kept pulling away from you in between kisses, chuckling as you chased after him. He mumbled soft words against your lips, each one making you want him more and more.
"Pretty girl."
"So good for me."
"So needy."
You whined in frustration and kissed him roughly, hands running over his body. When his hands ran over your ass and gripped your thighs tightly, you jumped up and he pressed you up against the wagon. The angle was torture, your core level with his, and the heat of your arousal was overwhelming. Your hips struggled to meet his, seeking the friction you craved, but Arthur just chuckled against your lips and held you still. "Not yet, darlin'."
You would have been embarrassed by the whine you let out if you weren't clouded with lust. You continued to wriggle against his grip, whining as he tortured you with slow, passionate kisses.
"Arthur!"
He pulled back with a groan when someone called his name, his forehead resting against yours. "Yeah?"
"Got a job for you!"
He sighed. "Be right there!"
You sighed and let your head fall against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby."
You hid your face in his neck, trying to hide the blush his words caused. "S'okay."
He gently set you down, hands settling on your waist. He lifted your face to his, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with his darkened eyes that held a promise for things to come.
"We'll finish this later."
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bookstantrash · 2 days
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A/N: And I am back in my "Nessian with RED (TV) fic titles" agenda. They are just so RED coded and I had been dying to write something related to this album it is one of my fav albums of TS tbf.
This one shot is more Cassian centric, and it is also a type of fanfic I had been meaning to write for the longest times. I just feel like the fandom overall forgets that Cassian has a lot of trauma and insecurities, and I wish we saw more of that.
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Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound
Nightmares were not unusual to Cassian. He had them for as long as he could remember.
He had them when he was a mere child living on the outskirts of Windhaven, blowing on his hands to try and keep himself warm.
Had them when he was a young warrior, taking part in the Blood Rite, fighting his way to find his brothers alive.
Had them when he took part in the First War and saw deaths far more gruesome than what he had experienced at the Blood Rite.
Had them pile up after each war, each battle he took part in. Dreamt about his soldiers dying, about having to give their families the news and be met with sadness, anger and resentment. That they were gone and would never return. That while they had died he, a mere bastard born nobody, an orphan, had not.
He grew used to nightmares. Usually he would wake up with silent tears and a sense of regret and failure over his heart, spending the rest of the night awake, going over reports. Those were the good nights.
And on those rare times when his mind was particularly evil and wanted to punish him deeply, on those nights he would wake up with his heart racing, the urge to throw up taking him out of his bed to leave him retching over the toilet, the need to scream at anyone and everyone consuming him. To scream in anger and despair. Those were the bad nights, the ones who made him go to the training ring and rip the punching bags, made him stay there until the sun was rising and he would pass out with tiredness, no dreams, good or bad appearing for him.
He was so used to his nightmares that he knew what to expect, knew how to recognise when it would be a bad or good night.
And then he met Nesta and his nightmares changed.
Now he dreamt of his failures with her. Not being able to stop her from being thrown into the Cauldron, not protecting her from Hybern during the War, not helping her heal sooner after the war, letting her be kidnapped again and thrown in the Blood Rite.
Nothing could have prepared him for those nightmares, nightmares that got worse after they finally got together.
Because finally being able to be with the love of his life, his Nesta, his wife and mate… that made him incredibly afraid. Afraid that the happiness he had never felt before would be stolen from him, leaving him empty, a sad and lonely youngling in the bitter snow all over again.
The first time Cassian had a nightmare after he and Nesta had wed, he had woken up in a cold sweat, heart beating so loudly on his ears that for a second he thought he was hearing the Illyrian war drums. He had dreamt of the night she had been Made, of dragging himself over the cold floor of Hybern’s throne room, the pain of his shredded and bloody wings almost non-existent at the face of Nesta’s despair. At her screams of rage as she was dragged under the cold dark waters of the Cauldron.
He had only calmed down when he realised Nesta was safely sleeping beside him, arms around him tightening and her sleepily mumbling at him.
“Where are you going?”
Cassian had considered untangling himself from his wife’s warm embrace and going over some leftover documents, silently keeping watch over her. But one look at her sleeping face had his resolve weakening.
“Nowhere, Nes” he had settled beside her, dropping a kiss on her forehead “Go back to sleep”
Whenever Cassian had a nightmare, he would try his best to not wake up Nesta. He did not want to bother her with his worries and fears. And somehow the Mother must have taken pity on him, because he was scarcely having any bad nights since they'd gotten married. Sure, he still had nightmares, but those made him want to rip his own heart out had stopped.
He took that as a small blessing. He would take the good nights over no dreams if that meant that the unbearable nightmares would be kept at bay.
However, Nesta was not oblivious that something preyed on her husband’s mind. She had noticed how worn out he was, how when he smiled at her and said nothing was wrong his smile did not reach his eyes.
But Nesta wanted Cassian himself to tell her what was happening. Wanted him to open his heart about what was making the circles beneath his eyes darker with each passing day without her having to dig it out of him. He had told her months ago during that hike at Illyria that she could be silent and he would be waiting for her to open up when she felt comfortable, as long as she did not shut him out. Now Nesta would do the same. She would wait beside him, offering her support however she could until he was ready to talk.
“You are unusually quiet today,” Nesta noted. They were resting on the sofa in front of the fireplace — Nesta reading a book and Cassian lying down, his head on her lap — having a quiet late evening after the training session with the Valkyries in the morning.
“Missing the sound of my lovely voice, Nes? Should I read out loud a paragraph from your book?” Cassian teased, opening an eye. He had slept poorly the night before, and the quiet sound of the embers crackling on the fireplace and his mate absentmindedly running her free hand through his hair had him battling sleep.
“No,” she closed her book, “it was merely an observation.”
Cassian closed his eyes again, smiling softly.
“Are you sure? I am certain the House would love to hear all about your newest smutty book”
The faelights flicked twice, as if agreeing with him.
“Oh hush now, you can read it after I am done with it. ” Nesta said, glaring at the ceiling “I never knew a sentient being more impatient”
Cassian laughed. At first he had been surprised when Nesta talked to the House, but he had grown used to it, even talking to It on more than one occasion.
“Do you want to move to our room?” Nesta asked, gently running her hands through his hair “it is more comfortable than the couch”
Cassian merely sighed “No, I am very comfortable like this” he turned on his side, arms circling her waist and wings dropping a little on the floor “I am afraid I will keep you hostage while I nap.”
Whatever Nesta meant to say was lost when she noticed how his breath had eased, her mate having already fallen asleep. And before she could even ask, the House flicked off the faelights, drawing shut the curtains of the room they had turned into their living room.
“Thank you,” Nesta found it quite endearing how the House had grown to care about Cassian as much as It cared about her. In the beginning, It liked to play pranks on him and even sided with Nesta whenever she and Cassian had an argument — once It locked Cassian outside and only let him in when he apologised. Over time, however, they had formed a rather close friendship.
Nesta opened her book again, turning on the small faelight that Azriel had gifted her on Solstice. She had just gotten to the juicy part and she knew that little light would not wake Cassian any time soon if the way he was softly breathing was any indication of how deeply he was sleeping.
She had read half of the book when she felt an uneasy feeling through the bond. She looked down at Cassian and saw his breathing getting uneven, his arms tightening around her waist.
“Cass?” Nesta whispered softly, setting her book aside. She could feel his fear and anguish through the bond, and it pained her that she could do nothing to ease his pain.
Cassian whimpered, and although Nesta knew better than to wake up someone having a nightmare, she could not stand to see him in such pain.
“Cassian, wake up, please” she tugged on her end of the bond, her hands cupping his face. He woke up gasping, hazel eyes huge and scared.
“A bucket,” he managed to say as he scrambled up, his breathing erratic “I need—”
No sooner had the House made a bucket appear than Cassian was on his knees, emptying his stomach. Nesta kneeled beside him, holding his hair back and rubbing his back.
“It is okay, everything is fine now” she said softly.
The House made a glass of water and a towel appear, Nesta thanking It quietly. Cassian had closed his eyes, breathing as if he had just learned how to.
“Hey,” she grabbed his face “open your eyes Cass.”
His hands came up, grabbing her wrists like he was wandering at the sea and she was his lifeline.
“That is it, just look at me” she said softly yet firmly, his scared hazel eyes meeting her blue-grey ones “Breath, Cassian.”
Nesta took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it go slowly. Cassian copied her, and after a few minutes his breathing had become normal again, his racing heart also slowing down.
“I am sorry,” that was the first thing he said, voice hoarse “I did not want you to see me like this”
“Nonsense,” Nesta dismissed, giving him the glass of water and making him drink it “you have seen me in much worse conditions”
“Are you ready to tell me what is going on?” she asked.
Cassian nodded his head, biding his time by taking another sip of water and using the towel to clean his mouth.
“For as long as I could remember I’ve had nightmares,” he began “There are the good nightmares and bad nightmares. The good ones usually wake me and leave me with a feeling of failure.”
Nesta remembered the nights in which she would wake up to an empty bed, Cassian going over reports — she would sit on his lap and give remarks as he went over them —  or just standing on their balcony. On those nights she would go over to him and bring him back to bed.
“I am cold” she would say, and he would hug her tightly and Nesta would let him think that she did not notice how he needed the hug more than she did.
She could always feel his sadness through the bond, no matter how hard he tried to close his end of that golden thread that binds them together so intrinsically.
“And the bad ones?” Nesta quietly asked.
“The bad ones leave me like this,” he said with a self deprecating laugh “A complete and utter mess, barely functioning.”
“You have been sleeping poorly for a while now. Why didn’t you talk to me?” Cassian must have seen the hurt on her eyes, felt it through the bond, because he grabbed her hands, squeezing them.
“I am not good with words, I am sure you have noticed that,” he smiled weakly “I wish I was half as eloquent as you are.”
“You managed just fine in our wedding” she said with an arched eyebrow, and that got a real laugh out of him.
“I was inspired that day, I will admit.” he got serious again “But I think that maybe spending a lot of time being alone and angry did not help with my inability to find the right words to express what I am feeling. And to share my problems with others.”
Nesta had noticed this particular trait of Cassian, especially after she had stopped keeping him at arms lengths and had finally allowed herself to admit what she felt for him. He loved his family deeply, would put himself at risk for others in a heartbeat, would always have a happy face and joke to lighten the mood.
He cared for and about everyone, but what about him? Who did the same to him?
Nesta wanted to be the one with whom he could discard his happy mask and show a range of emotions.
“You can always talk to me Cassian,” she said “Anytime, no matter what.”
“I don't want to burden you. You already went through so much that to further worry you with something as silly as a nightmare—”
“I cannot believe you are saying this,” Nesta said, and Cassian could feel her anger and disappointment through the bond “You could never burden me and for you to even suggest otherwise—”
“I am your wife, Cassian. Your mate. If I don’t care and worry about you, who will?” she continued after taking a deep breath to calm herself “Besides, it is not a silly nightmare if it affected you this way”
Cassian stayed a few minutes quiet, mindlessly playing with her wedding band, brows furrowed in concentration.
“Another reason I was hesitant to talk to you about the nightmares is because— because now I have nightmares about you, Nes” he avoided her eyes while he talked, still focused on her hands “The good nightmares are the ones about my failures with you. Not stopping Hybern, not helping you sooner…”
Nesta’s heart almost broke when he said that. How could he think that about himself when he had been the one to tell her months ago when they visited the old shabby cottage she had lived with her family in poverty that there was nothing she could have done to stop Hybern and save her father?
“And the bad?” she asked, wishing he would look at her.
“The bad ones are about you dying in my arms. About you realising I am nothing more than a bastard born nobody, who is not deserving  of even the air you breathe and then leaving to go travel the world, to marry a king from the continent or from other fae lands.” his voice got quieter, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of telling her what he saw on those nights “Of you simply leaving me and never looking back.”
“Tonight— tonight was a bad one,” he finally looked at her and his face was so utterly wrecked with pain and desperation that Nesta wanted to tell him that she would stop his nightmares, that she would bargain with the Mother and even that blasted Cauldron to leave him alone.
“I dreamt that when Briallyn ordered me to kill I could not turn the knife on myself. So I killed you. And she got the Mask and kept reviving you so I had to kill you over and over and over again” silent tears started running down his face and her heart truly shattered.
She hugged him tight, Cassian burying his head on her shoulder.
“Shh xe nhia, I am here,” Nesta knew a few words in Illyrian, and she hoped that the use of them, the familiarity that they brought, would help Cassian “I am not leaving you. Not now and not ever”
“However, if you keep trying to spoil my books I might become Ems’ newest house mate” she joked, making Cassian laugh.
“I would be completely lost without you Nes,” he said with a weak smile.
“I know,” she tenderly brushed his cheeks, drying his tears “Promise me something?”
“Anything you desire”
“Promise me you will wake me up when you have another nightmare, be it ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Promise me you will talk to me and let me be beside you when you are in need.” she pleaded.
“I promise” Cassian kissed her cheek, gathering her in his arms and walking towards their bedroom. Reluctantly setting her down, he went to their bathroom to freshen up while Nesta changed out of her dress.
Cassian walked back in to find her wearing one his favourite sweaters.
“I had been looking for that sweater”
“You were? Funny how it ended up in my drawer. Maybe the House put it there by mistake” Nesta shrugged, knowing very well that she had been the one to steal it. She was constantly stealing Cassian’s clothes.
“You do look better on it than me, so I think I can forgive that small mishap” he said, getting under the covers and hugging Nesta close.
“I love you, Nes” he whispered in her ear “And thank you”
“I love you too, Cass,” she replied, snuggling closer to him.
And that night, for the first time in a long while, Cassian had no nightmares.
tag list: @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @letstakethedawn @katekatpattywack @nestaarcheron @imagine-me @sv0430 @starryblueskies7 @live-the-fangirl-life @valkyriewarriors @readskk @wannawriteyouabook @imwritingthesewords @rainbowcheetah512 @moodymelanist @castielspelvis
[Reblogs/likes/comments are always welcomed!!]
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ladytauria · 3 days
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against expectation
Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Words: 8.6k Rating: Explicit
Content Warnings: Mildly Dubious Consent
Jason knows how he smells. When mating season comes around, he’s prepared to spend it the way he always does—alone, in his den, doing his best to block out the howls outside. Albeit this time with a little more self-care involved. He’s not prepared for Tim to show up at his door, in rut and ready to chase him. The surprise is the only reason he accepts the challenge. Omega Jason Todd Week Day 6 → Free Day
thank you to @deepwithintheabyss for supplying the title & also reading this over for me <3 (and helping me with the chase scene~) mwah, ily
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>> AO3 <<
Jason hears the first howl as he leaves the bathroom. He scowls, scrunching a towel over his curls.
Moonlight pours through his curtains; casting the parts of his den not lit by lamplight in deep blue shadow. The second full moon of autumn has come… and with it, mating season. Jason’s least favorite time of year.
All over Gotham, alphas, and betas, are beginning their hunts. They’ll track down whoever has caught their scent, and—should their prey be willing to run with them—hunt them until sunrise… or they catch them.
His glands ache. Scent pours off of him, so thick none of his usual tricks to suppress it help. The shower eased it a little, but it still burns his nose; acrid like smoke and too-sweet like rotting fruit. His senses are sharper, too. It’s not just his nose—it’s his ears, eyes, even his skin is more sensitive, making him twitchy.
Just about the only good thing about it is that Jason, and all other vigilantes, get the night off.
Jason digs through his drawers until he finds a pair of pants that don’t bother his skin. He doesn’t even bother digging for underwear. He knows from experience that nothing will feel right, and he’ll just end up yanking them off at some point. Tonight…
Tonight is about comfort.
It’s not usually.
Usually, this time of year, Jason holes himself up in his least favorite safehouse. Least favorite, because he always has to burn them after; his scent sunk in so thick even the best scrubbers are unable to get rid of it. He spends his time pouring over casework or doing equipment maintenance, misery pouring off of him in droves.
This year, Jason is trying something different.
Something gentler. Softer.
He’d begun the night with an epsom salt bath, scented with a little oil. Something light. Delicate. The kind of scent he wishes he had. He’d trimmed his nails, taken care of his cuticles… even taken the time to shape them before painting them. A full mani-pedi in his bathroom. Then he’d rubbed lotion into his scars, his calluses, until his skin was as close to baby-soft as he could get.
Now, he has a pair of headphones waiting by his nest, next to a stack of books and movies… and a box of stupidly expensive chocolates, just as an extra treat for himself.
Jason is determined to make this… if not a good night, at least a less miserable one.
After pulling his sweats and a very loose shirt on, he crawls into his nest. He had made it fresh that morning; the blankets, sheets, and pillowcases all freshly washed and soft. The whole thing smells light. Airy. Jason allows him a moment to simply breathe it in before he wraps himself up in blankets and pulls his laptop over.
A movie first, he thinks, running his finger over the stack. Something familiar. Comfortable. Pride and Prejudice first, then… the Princess Bride. Both guaranteed to sweep him away for a while. He puts the headphones on. Not noise-canceling. As nice as it would be to block the howls out completely… Jason’s hackles rise just thinking about cutting himself off from one of his senses.
By the time the movies are over, the howls should have died down.
Warm and comfortable, with chocolate blooming on his tongue, he could almost fall asleep. Almost. His instincts are too sharp, anticipating a hunt that will never come.
>> continue on AO3 <<
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acourtofthought · 17 hours
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4 Books of Buildup is not something E/riels and E/riels alone get to claim.
Yes, there have been moments in ACOMAF through SF that put the idea of E/riel into your head. Feyre thinking on how "handsome" they'd be together (literally the most shallow reason in existence for someone pairing two people but I digress), Az helping Feyre rescue Elain in ACOWAR, him offering Elain TT, Az sitting with Elain and listening to her talk about her seeds in ACOFAS, their "charged" look in SF and depending on the day and argument about whether the BC counts, their near kiss.
Yet between every single one of those moments, there is another love for Elain or Az or both. Elain was in love with Graysen in ACOMAF through ACOFAS. Az was still hung up on Mor, even in SF. He was happy not to stay and guard Elain, later helped rescue Elain then went on to look at Mor with heat and yearning on Solstice. He gave Elain TT but only because Mor begged him to sit out of battle. He was relieved that he was not expected to get Elain a gift that first year.
In all of those 4 books though, Elain and Lucien are confirmed mates. Confirmed by the King, by Feyre, by Rhys, by Az, by Mor, by Elain, by Graysen, by Lucien, by Eris.
It is CANON that they are mates. The "4 books of E/riel moments" are canon too however it being love is heavily debated because neither Elain or Az have confirmed it to be that. There is NOTHING in canon that unequivocally states she wants a relationship with him, that she wishes he were her mate, that he is completely over Mor, that he would take Elain without a mating bond.
In comparison, there is CANON showing Elain and Lucien are mates. Lucien calls her his mate, Az confirms their bond can be scented, she makes sure Graysen knows Lucien's name when Graysen is referring to her mate, Lucien acknowledges the real thread between them and Elain confirms she felt it too.
Could SJM decide to pull a fast one over on us in the next book and reveal the mating bond as fake? Sure, because she can do whatever she wants as the author however at this point in time, Elucien being mates is more canon than E/riel actually being in love. And to those who claim Elucien's bond will turn out to be fake, that the 4 books of proof of an Elucien mating bond can easily be undone in the next ACOTAR, then can't we say the exact same of E/riel? That the 4 books of "open to interpretation" interactions of E/riel could also easily be undone (I think they kind of already were in the BC but that's another discussion).
If a storyline which was confirmed (once again) by Feyre, Rhys, Az, Cassian, Mor, the KoH, Eris, and the author herself in interviews can be magicked away after 4 books of Elain and Lucien's arcs being built around that narrative, that it could suddenly be proven as fake, then how is anyone arguing against how the unconfirmed love between E/riel (of which no characters are even aware of considering Nesta called Az Gwyn's new ribbon and Rhys told him to find a hooker instead) can be even more easily deconstructed?
If it's that easy to undo a confirmed mating bond then anything hinting at Elain and Az is a house of cards in comparison.
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jimraisedmeup · 1 day
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TICK // 8.1 - i guess that's why they call it the blues
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Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content, masturbation)
Word Count: 3000
A/N: still trying to work out some bugs on the taglist. thank you to everyone.
Don't wish it away Don't look at it like it's forever
Between me and you I could honestly say Things can only get better
New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year
You sat on your bed, wrapped in a white fluffy towel. Your hair was wet and dangling as you ran a brush through it.
Just let me know the time and place to pick you up.
The phone call was meticulously planned to occur when you were home alone, as Robin and your parents went to the store. There was nothing you disliked more than someone listening in on your private conversations. And having parents like Richard and Melissa made things such as privacy a rare luxury.
After hanging up the phone with Eddie, you had swiftly made your way into the shower. Without wanting to fully admit it to yourself, you purposely used your mother's expensive shampoo so that your hair would smell different, fancy. It was New Year's, after all. A special occasion.
Now the only obstacle was escaping your parents' watchful eyes after dinner. It was a tradition for the Buckley family to eat dinner late in the evening on New Year's. But this year, you and Robin had absolutely no intention of being home at midnight.
You wondered vaguely if Eddie's dad cared about him being out all night.
Mr. Munson didn't seem very nice on the phone when you called for Eddie. The older man was mouth breathing and irritable, like you had interrupted an important event. Which turned out to be true once you heard him yelling about Jeopardy being on.
Having unkind parents was something you understood, but still shocked you to overhear the abusive tone Eddie's father held as his only son simply got a phone call.
And then, as you were lost in thought with the brush still in your hair, a peculiar thing happened.
The phone in your room began to ring.
Knowing you were the only one home, you reached for the receiver with haste, a tiny voice in the back of your mind begging for it to be Eddie again.
But after one ring, just as the tip of your finger touched the phone, the ringing stopped. 
You were momentarily frightened as you heard a deep voice mumbling downstairs, then quickly realized that it was your father. You must not have been the only one to ditch the grocery shopping trip.
Then the fear came back, washing over you like a wave. What if it was Eddie calling you back? Your father would have a fucking conniption fit if Eddie Munson was calling his home.
In a panic, you quietly lifted the receiver to see if you could hear the voice of the caller. Normally, you wouldn't dream of listening to someone else's call - but anxiety took over. 
"...Richard, honey, come to the office for just an hour… you know I won't tell anyone…"
The sultry voice of a woman was the last thing you expected to hear. You also didn't expect to recognize the voice as your father's coworker, Kate.
Pressing your palm to your mouth and nose to stay quiet, you were unable to stop yourself from listening further, a sick feeling rising in your stomach.
Your father's voice, usually impatient and gruff, seemed almost unrecognizable as he responded to the woman.
"You know that's a risky idea, Kate. I have dinner with my family tonight."
"So come before dinner. The office is empty for the holiday. I promise I'll make it worth your while."
You almost gagged to yourself. Was this really happening, or did you never wake up from your dream-filled sleep from earlier that morning?
It didn't take much for Richard Buckley to give in. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Just don't call the house again, okay? Unless I call you first."
Not waiting to hear the rest of the unpleasant infidelity, you gently hung up the phone and rushed to put clothes on. 
Your father was off the phone and gathering the keys to his work truck when you appeared at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed. You were satisfied to see the color drain from his face.
"I- okay, now," he sighed angrily. "I thought you went with your mother to the store."
Relishing in having the upper hand in the situation, you kept a poker face and stared at him.
"Ditto."
Your father sighed again, running a hand over his thin combed-over hair. "I have to run to the office for a while before dinner. There was an… unexpected delivery."
"Okay. I'll let mom know."
You waited for him to turn for the front door, letting him think he could make it out unscathed, before adding another comment.
"Tell Kate I said hello."
Freezing with one hand gripped on the doorknob, white-knuckled, Richard Buckley didn't look at his daughter as he chose his words carefully.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Please don't make me spell it out, Dad. I could hear her on the phone."
"You must be mistaken, then. That was a phone call about a deliv-"
Tossing your hands in the air, you weren't about to be gaslighted. "Oh, come on. I'm not a child. Listen, I'll make you a deal, okay?"
Your father finally looked at you then, face red with anger at your defiance, but not an ounce of shame for being caught. This only fueled your frustration. If your father was going to play dirty, so were you.
"I won't tell Mom about this… if you let me and Robin go out tonight for New Year's. No curfew."
"Fine."
That was easy, you thought, satisfied. But what else could you get out of this?
"One more thing."
He hesitated, but still humored you, gesturing with his hand impatiently for you to continue.
"I don't want to face any consequences for spending time with Eddie Munson. No more threats of private school."
You almost laughed at your father's expression then, the reddest you had ever seen it. He looked as if he could spontaneously combust at any moment. 
But as foolish as your father was, he wasn't a complete imbecile. Having an affair with his also married coworker was something that would ruin his reputation not only with the town, but with his beloved church as well. You were almost tempted to ask him how God felt about adultery.
You didn't get an easy response like your first part of the deal.
"Listen," he spoke slowly. "You need to keep your nose out of this. Forget this ever happened. Your mother and I have private lives that don't involve you."
"I have a private life too! And I'm sick of you dictating who Robin and I can be friends with!" 
Desperate to end the conversation, Richard pointed his finger in your face.
"You are a troubled young woman. Be friends with whoever you want. But dear daughter of mine," spit was flying from his lips, face basically a tomato. "If I so much as see that Munson boy, this deal is over."
You stared him down. It took everything in you to not smack his finger out of your face. You calmed yourself, realizing that this was as good as the situation could possibly get. 
Holding a hand out to shake, you sneered at him. "You drive a hard bargain, Richard."
But he didn't shake your hand. Your father abruptly left the house as he mumbled an almost incoherent "absolute failure" under his breath.
Slumping down on the bottom stair, you trembled with adrenaline, wondering if you were the failure or if your father was actually admitting it about himself.
While I'm away Dust out the demons inside And it won't be long Before you and me run To the place in our hearts Where we hide
Eddie found himself in a quandary.
Later that evening, as he got ready to head out for the night, the brown-eyed boy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a foil wrapper crinkling in his hand.
A condom.
The cliche better safe than sorry was running through his mind. But on the same note, he felt bad for assuming that you would even kiss him again. 
He rubbed his eyes, then looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothing. It was kind of a front, though, as his thoughts usually weren't very dark. 
Usually. 
Eddie still had plans with Jeff and Gareth before he was due to pick you up, and he considered asking them for advice about the situation. That would be fruitless, however, as Eddie was quite familiar with the extent of their experiences with women. 
Plus, you would literally have his head if you knew he was talking about you like that to anyone. One of his favorite things about you was the respect you had for yourself, the sureness with which you carried yourself. You were quiet and a little awkward, but still completely confident.
He pondered for a moment, still fiddling with the foil wrapper in his palm. Like a horrible totem representing his own crippled self confidence.
Figuring that you wouldn't even know that he had it unless you actually asked him for one, Eddie tucked it away inside of his wallet for safe keeping.
He could hear his dad stomping around upstairs as he walked back and forth between his armchair and the case of beer in the fridge. As much as Eddie liked his bedroom and bathroom in the basement, he wouldn't miss hearing that annoying stomping as a daily reminder of his dad's alcoholism.
For now, the solitude of the basement was worth it. And it held good memories regardless of the drunk monster that lived above him.
Brushing his teeth, Eddie's thoughts wandered back to the condom in his wallet. He thought about you, about your request to spend New Year's Eve with him. Him, of all people.
At eighteen years old, Eddie was still technically a virgin. Would he ever admit that to anyone? Probably not. Heavy petting make-out sessions and half of a handjob didn't exactly count as occurrences that required such contraception.
And he never really considered himself to be the kind of guy who needed to carry around a condom with him everyday. The town freak. 
He noticed attractive people, like any other teenager in Hawkins. But as of the entire last year, you were the only human being to cross his path that made him want an excuse to use a condom.
Sure, he wasn't exactly a blushing, completely inexperienced teenager. Though it had been less than a month, Eddie was still fucking shocked that you hadn't even kissed anyone before. He almost wondered if you were fucking with him, some kind of sick joke.
Deep down he knew you were telling the truth, though. Maybe he was naive, but Eddie refused to believe that you'd lie to him about something like that. Not to mention that after several years of school with you, he had never seen you dating anyone.
Eddie was curious as to why. You were semi-popular, attractive, funny. But maybe your attitude and general feisty demeanor made it clear that you preferred to be alone.
Pacing in his bathroom, the only sound was his boots dragging across the linoleum tile, the clinking of the chains on his belt. 
It didn't take long for his attention to crawl towards something more deviant. He didn't think he could ever forget the feeling of your skin as he tattooed you. The cold press of your lips on his as snow fell around them.
Jesus Christ, he needed to get rid of the tension in his body before he was physically near you.
Grabbing the lotion off the bathroom counter, he hastily unbuckled his jeans.
Already hard, he imagined groping you in the shadows, wishing it was your soft hands along his length. He wondered how sensitive you were - would you whimper if he dragged his nails gently over the most private area of your blue jeans? Would you take his hand and place it inside your panties?
He dropped himself back onto his bed, spare guitar picks falling to the floor. Flashing images of you kissing his neck, fingers pulling his hair.
It didn’t take long for him to make a mess all over his belly, letting out a sigh at the ceiling tiles where he swore he could see your name hidden in the cobweb patterns.
I guess that's why they call it the blues Time on my hands Could be time spent with you
Oh, laughing like children Living like lovers Rolling like thunder Under the covers
"You're late, Munson."
He smiled at you. "You know, I think that might be something you'll have to get used to. I'm incapable of being on time."
It was just after eleven at night, only an hour before the New Year, as you scrambled into the passenger seat of his warm van. Rubbing your hands together in front of the vents, you turned your excited eyes to him as he drove away from your house. 
He was dressed in his usual dark attire. From the glow of the streetlights, you could see his devilish grin as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth.
You were just about to tell him how gross the cigarette was when you heard the song playing on the radio.
"Oh! Turn it up, will you?"
Lifting an eyebrow at you, Eddie twisted the volume dial. "Journey? Are you serious?"
"'Separate Ways' is my all-time favorite song," you stated matter-of-factly, tapping your fingers on the window sill. "So, where are we going?"
"I'd tell you it's a surprise, but it's not really all that surprising. We're going to Lovers' Lake."
Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 
"That's very original of you, Eddie. Isn't it all frozen over this time of year?"
He flicked the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. "Yes, sunshine. A huge, frigid heart-shaped body of water. Just like my own heart."
You smirked to yourself. "Yet another perfect place for you to finally murder me."
"Not quite yet! I have a warm van, a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and some blankets in the back."
"You literally just described the exact van that murderers drive around in."
Eddie laughed at your morbid sense of humor. "Does it help at all that we'll have the best view on the lake? My friend isn't at his cabin tonight, but he said it's cool to pull my van up to the shore by his boathouse."
Pretending to think hard for a moment, you shrugged and smiled. Then, you shocked Eddie by nonchalantly placing your palm on his leg, like it was something you did everyday. 
"I guess that makes up for all these homicidal red flags."
Stare into space Picture my face in your hands
Live for each second Without hesitation And never forget I'm your man
"So, how do your parents feel about you being out so late?"
Eddie helped you wrap yourself into a blanket cocoon and then handed you a beer. He watched as you took a drink of it, shivering slightly, before responding to him.
You were curled up close to each other in the back of his van, legs dangling out of the open rear doors. Eddie made sure to blast the heat in the front so you wouldn't get too cold, but he could still see your breath in the brisk winter air around them.
"Oh, the usual. I'm a sinner. A disappointment. An absolute heathen, disgracing the Buckley name."
He stared at you, his can of beer paused halfway to his mouth. "Did they really say that?"
You snorted. "No, but my father might as well have. My mom's just an idiot who goes along with him."
"Do they know you're with me?"
"Yes," you replied simply.
When Eddie stayed quiet on the matter, you asked some of the lingering questions in your mind.
"How does your dad feel? He didn't sound very happy when I called earlier."
Taking a long sip of the cold beverage in his gloved hand, Eddie seemed to wince at your query. He glanced out at the frozen, dark abyss of Lovers' Lake and then peered over at you.
"I doubt he even noticed that I left the house."
You fidgeted in the blanket and awkwardly adjusted the fluffy hat on your head. "I'm sorry, Munson."
"Don't sweat it. He's just an asshole. I think I'm going to move in with my uncle this summer, though. After graduation."
You were surprised to hear this. "Really? Does your uncle live far away?"
Eddie didn't miss the slight panic in your words, his heart instantly swelling as he realized that you worried he was moving away from Hawkins. Still, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to tease you about it.
"Well, well, well. Are you going to miss me? Is Miss Buckley breaking away from her infamous emotionless exterior? Do I see the hint of an actual soul in there?" 
He burst out in laughter as you punched him playfully on the shoulder. 
"C'mon, Eddie. If you weren't around, who else would tolerate me?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll tolerate you all the way from Forest Hills Trailer Park, sunshine."
Your shoulders dropped a little in relief. "Oh. That's not far at all."
"Nope."
The conversation went quiet for a while, a comfortable silence forming between the two teenagers. You rested your head on Eddie's shoulder, feeling his hair tickle the side of your cheek.
It didn't go unnoticed by either of you that, without directly saying it, you both wanted to spend the upcoming summer together.
Eddie continued to sneak glances of his watch. Midnight was slowly approaching.
Wait on me girl Cry in the night if it helps But more than ever I simply love you More than I love life itself
(song lyrics credit: "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" by Elton John)
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since64bce · 15 hours
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Hell Within Hell
Alastor-Radio Demon- x Sinner reader
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Synopsis: Alastor has inhibited hell for years. He knows it's ins' and outs'. But when it comes to him, his coppery heart, and an unexpected new-found perspective on his assistant, a new hell is created for him as he tries to wrestle with the shiny new concept of love. Just a few short pieces of writing and some head cannons', dear readers. Nothin' fancy.
Word count: Don't know. Warnings: Alastor.
By gosh what a tragedy. What a wonderful, terrible tragedy. What a questionable, concerning tragedy. How lovely it is. How problematic. Did Shakespeare end up in hell for all the souls he stole in the theatre? I pray for him if that was ever the case. And not because his soul wandered into eternal damnation. Oh no, there's a fate much worse than that, and his name is Alastor.
When the heart becomes stale it also becomes a waste of space, a space that could be used for more lung capacity instead. Because of this reason, Alastor often had thoughts of compulsively ripping it right out, especially, strangely, and more so now that it was finally of use. If Shakespeare really was in hell, Alastor wanted to kill him. If he was a bug, he'd place the man beneath Nifty's blade. And if he was in Heaven- which would be unwarranted given all the hearts he's crushed- Alastor would find a way to drag him down into Hell to watch his tragic little heart suffer for eternity. Because it's his texts in which Alastor has stumbled upon. And it's from his texts in which Alastor has learnt about love and all it has to offer.
Alastor is a refrained lover, if you could call the demon a lover at all. At best he's okay at love, if thats what you wanted to call whatever the thing Alastor thinks "love" is.
Being an overlord, you'd think he was capable of anything.
Uhh lower your expectations sis.
Problem No.1 with Alastor (which was really hard to find) is that he's not really the lovey dovey type. Does he get passionate about certain things? Of course darling. But when was the last time it was about a lowly sinner like yourself? (Hear the crickets babe? Yea pretty much that).
However I feel like this is true only for a few years after he's met you.
I'd say it's a "You-fell-first-(but then lowkey realised it ain't never happening type thing so you stopped)-he-fell-harder-(and got confused so didn't pursue it for like six fuxking months)
Being an overlord you'd think he was capable of anything but in all honestly love confuses this sweet🍬, sweet🍭, neurotic👹 boy.
His heart is in tatters and moth eaten like some dusty old drape. Nobody's ever come into his life that mattered to him much before.
And when I say "mattered" it doesn't come under the "slightly useful to him but couldn't care less" umbrella either.
Like it's a genuine feeling of not wishing for somebody to just fucking up and leave his demonic little world.
It's as if you're just so convenient for him to be able to slot you into his crazy, batshit puzzle of a life. And you fit so perfectly and meticulously, and you make it look rather complete, that he just doesn't really feel he needs you gone.🙂🙃
And thats his very lopsided version of love that he hasn't created a full understanding around yet. But hopefully will... one day.💕
Why would someone like him like someone like you!?? 🤯😧
Oh please bitch Alastor in Alastor's world is a special, clever little princess, nobody can top him.
When he first laid eyes on you, you were just another darling sack of shit staying at the Hazbin sorry not sorry. (Boo me idc this is how your love story goes 😤)
You weren't special at all. In fact, to him you were just a normal bad sinner doing the normal bad sinner things. There was nothing alluring about you, there was not a single aura or attractive quirk or special little something on the inside nor the outside that made him love you. You were like a crusty little stray dog, period. Not even a cute one.
In fact not even your death story was cool you got like hit by a bus or something idfc but it was nothin striking babes
You weren't even that bad of a sinner tbh. You were just a lying cheating fu k that got hit by a bus before you could find Jesus and repent
Anyways then you have Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr.Alastor who can do funny shit with his shadows oh dear lord save me
So as I said before, you, my dear, had a little crush for him first. Or, more realistically, you caught the love bug. Because don't we all know how little Nifty loves her bugs (dead).
Yes, you hiccupped on your blushy, fluffy feelings because trying to find genuine love and care within Ali's cold little heart at the time would've been damn near impossible. Like being stuck in a maze within a maze within a stone wall that had no exit.
So, yes dear, a hard pill to swallow ik but you got there in the end .
Over the years following, you and Alastor became a nice little duo. Like an elegant doberman and it's small rat-dog companion (guess which ones which).
Everybody in the Hazbin hotel has their own little niche, whether it be porn-starring or bar tending.
Yours was running errands for Alastor.
In his eyes you were comparable to an assistant even though the title was never officially yours. And he didn't want it to be yours because the role of facilities manager was a one person job.
Besides you did other things than just hotel errands.
You were more like an assistant Alastor. And that suited the both of you just fine. To Alastor you were remarkably useful, to you Alastor was an interesting boss and a form of strange company you somehow enjoyed. His presence, albeit staticky, was charming. He was a hard one to shake off, that man.
And then he began noticing you. And not just in the general way. I mean thats how it all starts off doesn't it?
It starts with a moment.
His boring "normie" of a companion... charmed him in some way. He didn't know how.
It was after one of his avid radio broadcasts when he switched off the set and just sat there in the silent darkness illuminated by the controls. Not even his voice filled the air, which was a strange noise to behold. Oddly peaceful, huh.
And then it got him thinking about your voice and how it could come and disrupt his blissful, peaceful silence at any moment. Pestering him with something new, as the very un-special sound of it filled the room.
You did like to disrupt things.
You've had your fair share of moments you've disrupted.
With your normal voice.
Filling the room.
It got his cogs spinning as he thought about you so normal and dull and boring. But it seemed that he really did know quite a lot about you.
You were never a drug addict in the middle world, never any kind of addict, never any kind of slave to anything or anybody but the lies you told others. Admirable achievement in this crowd down here.
But still, what a boring Mary Sue.
Typical Mary Sue behaviour that you should also try and recover from your compulsive lying, and actually bother to make use of the facilities the Hazbin Hotel had to offer.
Charming. But petty.
Just today he had asked you about an errand you'd run, only to find out that you had lied about running it.
You were supposed to have given some bird food to the cuckoo in the cuckoo clock. It was a fools errand he had given you to make you go away for a second. But you had told him you had actually done it.
Until you admitted you lied.
Inside the broadcast tower, Alastor let out a quiet laugh. He didn't know why it was quiet, he was the only person in the tower, and even if he were with other people its not like he'd care.
But what was so funny?
He thought back to the conversation: "I don't know what you're talking about," you had told him. "I never fed the stupid clock." And then he said, "Oh dear, well thats quite contrary to what I was told before." And you said, "damnit" under your breath and walked away, annoyed at yourself for having broken your sobriety, going to go repent to Charlie for the fifth time that day.
Again, Al found himself smiling ever wider and trying to keep his steady flow of chuckles beneath his fingers. Soon he was hunched over, finding other stories about you drifting to his head.
Unbeknownst to him, the layer of ice on his heart was slowly beginning to melt in the section that he reserved for you.
He realised you were such a funny fickle little thing, he realised he was quite fond of you as his assistant. It made no sense. And after the laughter was over something else took over.
A sense of something between fiery anger and grief contaminated his pores. He realised he had let you into his heart. He tried to quickly freeze it over again, however, it was too late, it seemed you had already brushed its surface.
The next day when you two were busying yourselves with errands, you came across each other in a hallway.
There was something off about his face on this particular day. Because when you looked at his face which was watching over your face, you never found his signature smile. For once you saw his lips relaxed. For once you saw his elusive eyes really looking at you like nobodies ever looked at you before.
And then he walked right past like nothing happened. However something had happened. Something incredibly unexpected and wrong. Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr. Alastor had found someone who mattered.
Boring, normie, lacklustre, lukewarm, little. Old. You.
It's a quiet day at the Hazbin Hotel. But it's always a quiet day isn't it? Hell is rock bottom, and once you hit rock bottom, well, what's the point in not wandering around for a bit?
You were only here because Charlie picked you up before the Sinners mentality could reach you.
At the same time, you were also only here because of Alastor.
Alastor, the lean, lanky overlord which you couldn't help but like somewhat. Cold and calculating despite the warm colours he wore. charming and pleasant despite his scary appeal. He was one reason why you enjoyed your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.
But he was also one reason why you hated it.
Lately anyway.
You've tried to bring it up with him but he simply won't listen. He doesn't even laugh anymore he just grimaces. It's been two whole months since he last smiled at you and you feel as though your beginning to get withdrawals- as sappy as that sounds. But it's true. As funny as it is to say, hell seems less pleasant, and even the Hazbin, despite Miss Morningstar's lovely presence, is falling short of joy and dunking deeper into the gloomy reality that is damnation.
They say that reality is just your perception. However, why has your perception been so fragmented by just a absence of a single smile?
Oh but you knew didn't you? You still loved him.
You thought you were past it but you weren't. You're such a brilliant liar that you can even trick yourself into believing things that aren't true. How remarkable. How depressing.
Ugh.
He's probably finally gotten bored of you. In fact, you've probably bored him into some kind of chronic depression that triggers every time he see's your boring, depressing face. Double ugh. And now you can't stand to look in the mirror. Sometimes you lay awake at night wondering what you've done to him and if it's you that's broken his perfect smile or something else. But everything he does points at you, and with this ridiculous jacket of blame on your shoulders you don't know how to look in his eyes anymore without feeling humiliated.
Oh and now he's behind you, watching you sit beneath the stupid cuckoo clock with a pile of birdseed in your palm. Humiliating? No something worse than that. You must look ridiculous. Desperate. Ridiculously desperate.
'Well, I feel it's too late now don't you? That ridiculous lie is still a lie, also the bird isn't real if you didn't get the memo,' taunted the inevitably superficial voice of the radio host. You could feel him behind you but you couldn't see him. The mans presence was very strong, a quirk, perhaps, that came with being an overlord. Although at times you could hardly tell when he'd enter a room at all. 'Now, why are you sitting, staring at the wall like a dummy? Did dear Charlie put you in time out for being a liar?'
'Fuck you, Alastor,' you huffed, 'you know I'm working on it.'
'Not making much progress I see.'
You could hear his non-smile in his voice. You didn't even turn around, you didn't have to, plus, you didn't want to.
'After you're finished working out your lying problem, perhaps you should focus on your swearing problem,' he said. You could hear the ruffling of Al's suit as he presumably crouched down, and then the cold lick of his breath as he got close to your ear. 'It's not so classy, my dear, for someone like you to have such a foul mouth.'
'Fuck- I know- just fuck off!'
You heard Alastor tut behind you, sighing disapprovingly.
You turned and looked him in the eyes. They looked bemused, however, his mouth told you a different story. He looked slightly chilling without that smile of his. Perhaps that was another reason for your sleeping troubles lately. 'Go ahead and do it you creep, kill me, I know ya wanna,' you declared, he cocked his head to the side, terrifyingly interested in your proposition. You had to resist the urge to swallow. 'Also now I've seen you without a smile I think I've seen it all, kill me I'm ready.'
You were half joking, but you still watched Alastor out of the corner of your eye, a habit you had developed.
'No.'
'That's not like you, Alastor.'
'What can I say? I am a man of many surprises. And you're far too valuable to me to kill you, assistant.' He added the last part in slowly, watching you like a hawk.
And then you saw it.
The faintest glimmer of tooth.
The littlest crease beside his lip.
And did he just call you valuable? A compliment from Alastor? Kill me now, you thought, it wasn't gonna get much better than this. And then Alastor's distinct vocals piped up again, 'ha ha! You look dumbfounded, sweetheart. Is there something I can help you with?'
His smile disappeared. And so did that feeling of hope in your stomach, leaving you empty again, and so you said, 'what do you even want Alastor? why'd you come find me? You're just toying with me now.'
'I'm afraid I toy with everyone, assistant.'
You felt him watching you as you crossed the room and put the birdseed in the bin, you felt him watching you as you dusted off your hands and made your way to the door.
'Smile,' you ordered. One final attempt.
Once again he cocked his head, raising his eyebrows, no expression in the mouth and whatever expression was in the eyes seemed to be told in another language. 'And what do I get if I do that for you?'
'My smile.'
-
Alastor has been a mess lately.
A clean mess no doubt. But he's been walking around half naked for months, alas, he can't bring himself to smile, which was more like a piece for clothing for him now more than anything. It got to the point where the Radio Demon thought that it had finally lost it's sincerity and emotion. But clearly not, as it's absence has been due to nothing but sincerity and emotion, two things which Alastor had never really exercised. Two things which were out of his hands.
And it's been ever since he found you wandering the hellish plains of his mind.
Yes, he was the skeleton in the closet, the monster beneath the bed, the not-your-typical-spooky-guy. But maybe he's finally found a weakness, and that thought slapped his smile right off his face.
And his assistant was all to blame.
You were all to blame.
He found his hands shaking as he looked at you, he carefully analysed that angry look about you as you stood rigidly at the door. There was nothing threatening about you, your face wasn't scary like his was, however he found himself mildly irritated by your defiances' today, mildly saddened at your obvious depression, and mildly livid that he couldn't get you off his mind.
So no, he wasn't threatened, you just mildly made him want to pull his hair out.
'Smile.'
'And what do I get if I do that for you?'
'My smile.'
Your smile? And what was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to rip your mouth off and take your smile for his own? He looked at you, he looked at your lips, imagined touching them, imagining slicing them off you as your blood spilled and you screamed. And then he found himself putting the thought down, finding that he didn't really want that thought. How strange. Your smile wouldn't suit his face anyway, it looks much sweeter on you.
'If you smile at me I'll smile at you back,' you clarified, still with that rather hostile look in your eyes. You didn't really look in the smiling mood darling.
But it gave Alastor pause for thought.
Oh. So that's what you meant. Interesting. An equal exchange.
Al brought the memory of your smile up in his mind. It was pleasant enough. Charming enough... Oh who was he kidding? Sometimes he wished you could tell him the lies he told himself so he'd believe them better.
Your smile. It was sweet and dainty and lovely, and there was not a night that had passed in which he hadn't thought about it in some fleeting way.
Squeezing, hurting, reaching. He wanted to rip his heart out right then and there as he looked at you glaring at him from the doorframe.
And that's when he walked right up to you without warning. You barely had time to back away. And he took in your wonderful face with all of your wonderful features, from the lovely curve of your nose, to the shape of your very skull, to the fat of your cheeks to the pigment of your skin (which had turned wonderfully rosy beneath his fingers).
And then he took in your smile.
And he realised he was smiling too.
And he was so angry with himself, and irritated at you for making him feel this way. And so he leaned in and carefully placed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. Wanting to do it again and again and again but worried that he could smudge away the perfection that was you.
In the end he just grinned at you.
...
And then walked away like nothing happened.
...
A/N- Ik the tiny one shot at the end is shit but it's like 1 am and I have school tomorrow, I've watched like 4 episodes and I don't even know who tf Lucifer is yet so don't even come at me bitchens 🖕🥷
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catalina-infanta · 2 days
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On Free Will in C.S. Pacat’s Dark Rise Series
James Has Free Will With The Collar
Recently I wrote an essay (https://www.tumblr.com/catalina-infanta/748214922159194112/the-question-of-the-collar-the-dark-rise-trilogy?source=share) on how I believed that the Collar was a consensual object between Anharion and Sarcean. I still believe that. I will further argue now that although I think the collar gets Anharion/James to obey direct orders, I also believe the collar is something that allows free will to its wearer and is not forcing him (compelling him) to do anything he does not agree to do, and that he ultimately has free will. This essay is an addendum to my last, so I suggest if you have not read it, you may want to read it first to understand the bulk of the reasoning for this argument of mine, but it is not necessary.
First, I will draw attention to the below scene (in the chapter where the collar is put on James by Sinclair):
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Here, the two sentences say:
“He felt no compulsion.”
Period.
“He felt nothing at all.”
Period.
The way this is written is short and sweet for a reason, in my opinion. The sentence is simply “he felt nothing at all” not “he felt nothing at all when Sinclair ordered him…” This feels like a deceptive trick of writing to me. It is stated in a way to hide information in plain site; we are meant to think he is only not compelled here because Sinclair was the one ordering him around. But he says here that he feels no compulsion. Nothing at all. These are the ways writers trick us until they give us the final reveal and we are meant to look back and it all makes sense.
Another clue is in the below scene. We see James is not an automaton who repeats back Will's wishes (like his people branded with those “S”/snake tattoos must do – I have seen others mention a theory that they are snakes, not “s” tattoos). Instead, James’s personality is fully his own at the end of the chapter when he rescues Will. He willingly calls Will “darling”, therefore giving a personal twist to his phrasing without anyone telling him to do so (and he is not a mind reader for reasons I will explore below)
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and then, James takes initiative to blast them out of the mountain (showing us he can choose the method of escape, Will doesn’t direct him how to do it).
Furthermore, below, James says he will rule with Will, by his side. He has agency. You can’t rule if you have no autonomy. If you can't decide anything you are not a ruler, you are simply ruled.
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Why Was James Acting So Weird? Is He Brain Washed?
James was acting weird in the last chapter. What’s more, James’s mannerisms are different, yes, even different from the chapter preceding it where James rescues Will (calling Will “darling”, acts sassy with the others, etc). So, the final chapter could have been done by Pacat to show that James is brainwashed, but I highly doubt this. Instead, I think it is done to show 1) James isn’t acting weird because he has no agency, but because he believes Will remembers everything too, and 2) He is written strangely to obfuscate the truth. We cannot know too much about James’s condition right now as that is a giveaway, so Pacat chooses to hide it and instead has us focus on the turmoil inside Will in the final chapter and on his interpretation of James’s behavior.
[One clue someone brought to my attention that shows James may think Will already remembers everything is the scene when Will says “both of you” to Viserion and James; James knows what he is talking about (the memory where Sarcean said the same thing to Anharion and the Queen when he was arrested) and probably infers that Will remembers everything as well. He doesn’t know that Will only remembers a few small snippets. What’s more, perhaps James is calling Will “His King” and “Sarcean” because he simply remembers everything now and so Will and the Dark King have both become interchangeable in his mind. Will is now “his King”--perhaps he even believes Will expects to be called as such]
Unfortunately, we have very little description of what he was feeling, or even of his facial expressions in the last chapter; James’s actions often appeared mechanic. Very importantly, however, the five times he is described by Will in the chapter, he is described as “achingly genuine” with “blue eyes full of loyalty” and “as eager as Will” and feeling “warm and real against him [Will]” and, finally, saying something “with confidence”.
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Sadly, all of these lovely things Will noticed are (in the same chapter/moments) doubted by Will, leading the reader to doubt too. However, Will’s filter is often unreliable as his thoughts are often just his opinion and/or the full extent of his real memories are concealed from us.
The thing is, if James has just gotten access to all his memories, maybe what Will perceives to be genuine is really actually genuine! We kind of know it is from James's point of view given what we read after the collar is placed on him; James's description of his experience wearing the collar seemed to invigorate him. I fully expect that after Book 3 we will be able to look back on these moments in book 2 and everything will make sense.
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To that idea, I find it hard to believe that Pacat would call this unbearably erotic (above) if we weren’t meant one day to come back and read this as a situation that is…kind of romantic? Sexy? But NOT lacking in consent or love or taking place with a brain washed partner.
No, James imo has not suddenly become a brainwashed Anharion. He refers to him as Will in the below pic, so he knows he is with Will in the present moment as much as with Sarcean:
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To my final point, more importantly, James BELIEVES that Will remembers too! That’s why his responses are so weird to us and to Will. He now knows Will was lying about who he was, so he must assume Will knows too and still is aiming for the same goals as the Dark King.
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Hence why he thinks (above) that ruling over the world was what Will wants to accomplish, but it is NOT what the present Sarcean/Will wants (not yet, at least). Notice also that James’s answer to Will asking if he was telling him what he wants to hear (in the above scene) was evasive; perhaps another tool Pacat has possibly employed to make us THINK James is talking about one thing when maybe what he is really saying “yes” to is something else entirely?
Finally, I would like to draw your attention to this final question I have:
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This scene where James was asking, “what’s wrong?” always confused me until I realized James thinks Will is on the same page. If James believes Will remembers everything (which I firmly believe based on how he acts in the final chapters) then this question “what’s wrong?” makes sense if he believes Will knows the methods of the collar.
It makes sense because when Will has a virtual panic attack upon seeing the collar on James, James doesn’t immediately try to explain to him the history of the collar to make him feel better (because he thinks Will knows it’s history). So, in the above, James has no idea why Will is so upset.
I wonder if at this point in time here, however, if James remembers and is questioning why Will discouraged the use of the collar and wanted to destroy it?
Perhaps it is as simple as James believing that this incarnation of Sarcean wants him to follow him (Will) first and foremost because he wants to? This is what Will said in the Throne Room. Perhaps James is thinking now it is done, why cry over spilt milk? It’s not the end of the world, after all. Or maybe James hasn’t thought yet about how Will hadn’t wanted him collared and is just too excited to learn the truth (thanks @tackletofset for this idea). Upon thinking further, it is also possible that James doesn’t have to wonder why Will didn’t want the collar if maybe Anharion was always the driving force between the two towards the collar, and Sarcean more hesitant? Or perhaps it was something else altogether? I mention all of this because if my theory is true, it will spill over into book 3 as they try to figure out each other’s feelings in the first half of the book.
Conclusion
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Finally, as we see at the end when James reveals he remembers all in the end scene of the book (pic above), we don’t get to see the rest of the conversation: we don’t get to see them talk about what they both remember. That’s for the next book! And I can’t say I have any idea when they will both be on the same page. Hopefully soon enough!
In James saying “You are him”, it’s comforting to see that James believes Will (the loving and loyal person he is) and Sarcean are essentially the same. That Sarcean isn’t the demon the Light side made him to be, that he is worthy to be held in esteem. This bodes well that the Dark King is no cruel man, as Will is not cruel either. James is telling us something about Sarcean’s character here, and I believe him.
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female-overlord-3 · 2 years
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With RNM back for S4 I'm also back on my malex and dumb alien show bullshit! Missed going feral over this show AND I would like to make one prediction which is that I have a feeling that a certain someone will try and sabotage her health again because with her treatment done she no longer has her "powers" so ya and also I WOULD DIE FOR A MALEX HANDPRINT AND MORE BADASS SCIENCE SQUAD VIA LIZ KYLE MICHAEL AND HEATH, BADASS ALIEN SQUAD, AND THE EVIL TRIAD CAN DO WHATEVER THEY WANT TO ME! ALSO EVERYONE LOOKS GOOD YES EVEN THE BATTENDER EVEN IF HER SCENES MAKE ANNOYED
I've got some things planned! Excited to share them AND HEY MY 🐧 ANON SEND AN ASK 💖
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starflungwaddledee · 5 months
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offering three cookies 🍪🍪🍪
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(<< part 1)
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bugsbenefit · 3 months
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all i'll say about Noah's video is that i think it's weird people are calling it a "bad apology", because it's not even an apology video. the only thing he says is that his opinions have been misconstrued and that he doesn't want people to die, which, yeah, he already said before. there's no sorry, from the video alone you wouldn't even know if he's aware of what he did that made people turn on him so fast in the first place
i know the norm nowadays is to call any response to an issue/a situation an "apology" but sometimes it's just a statement, which is what this is. if he was genuinely "apologizing" he'd have to address the actual things he did, like keep misinformation up, even after it's been disproven and worst of all the "zionism is sexy" thing. what he's doing is just cautious backpeddling by saying everyone got him wrong. just a pretty obvious pr nothing-statement sadly
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rolandapostatize · 2 months
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cannot get over how theodore 7th time loop is written actually. 13 year old's suicidal tendencies resolved by having polite conversation with the person he loves most and whom he was doing all that for, and who has never before in his life clearly communicated with him at all, and who due to his own emotional immaturity decided that the best way to protect his desperate younger brother is to never talk to him and act as terrifying as possible around him. one unwell child eliminating another unwell child's problems, that he was contributing to, in a single conversation
like i cant get over how quickly the conflict was introduced and resolved.
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sonknuxadow · 3 days
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they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it
#i pirated that shit Btw just so we're clear. also gonna talk about it a little bit in the tags#nothing too spoilery but also might not wanna read if you want to go in knowing absolutely nothing? idk#anyway he WAS a main character still he was present for a decent amount of the first couple episodes#but the amount of screentime he gets just starts dropping after that . hes barely there at all in the second half ???#and it feels like theres a lot of scenes mostly focusing on wade and his problems and not near as many for knuckles and his whole deal#overall it feels more like a wade show with knuckles in it than a knuckles show with wade in it. which sucks#and human characters having plot relevance isnt the problem here i dont mind human characters at all i think they can be really fun#its the fact that the human characters are taking over the story and spotlight when the show is called knuckles#and all the marketing makes it look like knuckles is the main focus#and i also would have preferred if they just went with a differnet character to be knuckles' human friend#because i dont particulraly care about wade. and the knuckles (and sonic and tails) i know would not be friends with cops </3#well at least the story wasnt knuckles training wade to be a better cop like a lot of people were expecting but thats like.the bare minimum#also aside from the issues relating to knuckles' screentime (or lack of screentime) i thought the ending was unsatisfying#regardless of all that though there WERE some parts i enjoyed or found kind of funny or whatever. because knuckles so cutesy as always#knuckles being a cute little guy is the most important part of the show actually#and i liked the parts with sonic tails and maddie even if they were only there for like 5 minutes#(i really wish those three had gotten more screentime. i feel like they could have easily worked in at least one more scene with them)#and its a minor thing but the opening sequence is cute. was honestly expecting just a title card or something#overall the show is just . kind of okay i guess. not the worst thing ive ever seen but still disappointing ? idk how to explain..#my expectations also werent very high in the first place#so maybe im being a bit more generous than i would have been otherwise. idk#and i definitely would not recommend this to anyone who already dislikes the sonic movies . youll probably hate this more#like people who thought the human characters got too much screentime in the second movie would lose their minds if they saw this
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wonder-worker · 5 months
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"In reality Richard III invented a Woodville scare as a screen for his own conspiracy"
-A.J Pollard, "Richard III and the Princes in the Tower"
#lmao#r*chard iii#my post#I think that's true for all usurpations and coups to an extent#but its 10x more applicable and accurate for Richard III#Not only because of the compressed length of time (a mere 3 months as opposed to years of back-and-forth tensions)#but also because ultimately one of the key reasons Richard could do what he did was because he did it from the heart of the political#institution (ie he was an internal threat rather than an external one)#and he was someone who was trusted and loved rather than mistrusted and hated. His betrayal was political but it also had far more personal#ramifications for everyone involved - most people simply did not expect it from him and cooperated with him precisely because of that#which enabled him to seize power before most people even realized what he was doing#And there's the fact that he actually did stage a conspiracy by accusing the Woodvilles of plotting to attack and ambush him#and produced weapons from his own war in Scotland as fake 'proof' - when in fact we know that HE deceived and ambushed THEM#there's also the (propagandic) lie that they usurped him from the position as Lord Protector when they certainly didn't#either Edward IV didn't appoint Richard Lord Protector meaning the Woodvilles denied him nothing#OR the council collectively chose to have a council rule during Edward V's minority rather than a Protector (something they were entirely#within their rights to do both socially and legally)#so claims that they wrongly defied Edward IV's last wishes or broke the law (which Mancini repeats in his account) must be seen as exactly#that - propagandic lies to vilify EW and her family#when in fact Richard was the one plotting a seizure of power - whether it was as Lord Protector or as King#(of course these are just two things - there's a whole laundry list of others)#so this is definitely applicable to him
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