#ok last ooc post for the night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vaedar · 2 years

Text

𝐎𝐎𝐂; 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐃 𝐄𝐩. 𝟕

So have a few things that have resurfaced thanks to that episode that I think are part of Vaedar’s world building, so I wanted to share.

First, that dragon riding scene was beautiful. I don’t know if it’s the muse fanboying over it or me, but I loved it. Vhagar kind of reminds me of a flying godzilla for some reason though. But yes, there were apparently some who were upset with how Aemond ‘took’ Vhagar or how Vhagar ‘betrayed’ Laena, and both things are essentially not true. Laena was dead, Vhagar chose Aemond, dragons can and have had more than one rider so once that rider is dead, the dragon can be claimed by anyone else they choose/allow. I loved how they managed to capture the effect of Vhagar’s size translate into the flying. Like when she takes off, you can see that massive weight in the ‘slowness’ of her powerful wings flapping, you just know she is heavy. It reminded me of watching an A380 from Qantas Airways take off, so that was impressive.

On that note, Vhagar by the Dance was said to be nearly as big as Balerion during the Conquest... So imagine how absolutely massive Balerion was by the time he died. Vhagar was 181 years old, Balerion was over 200 years old ( specifically, closer to 220 if we go with him being hatched in Valyria the same year Targaryens left for Dragonstone in 126 BC, which he might’ve been hatched a year or so before anyway, plus the year of his death in 94 AC ). Meraxes was even larger than Vhagar by the time of the Conquest so imagine how big she would’ve been too.

Now more on Valyria things... the wedding. Finally we have more on how this is. In Fire and Blood, we get the bit of how Visenya wed Maegor to Alys in a ceremony ‘by fire and blood’, in the valyrian fashion, but no details on just what that means are given. I did assume that this meant there was a symbolism in a wedding ceremony of fire and blood, that the bride and groom drank wine together since as the symbol of blood and that together they lit up a pyre while a priest spoke valyrian vows and invoked gods and fire. But now we see that it was in a literal sense that they ‘exchange blood’ pretty much, and it makes complete sense with valyrian customs. This is a civilization that valued the purity of blood, that sought to maintain the magic in it as powerful as possible, because their blood is what granted them that connection with dragons and fire. I also enjoy how they dress the same/very similarly, because this can translate into the man and wife being the same, in equal standing, unlike a wedding of the Faith of the Seven where the bride is ‘passed into the protection of her husband’ when she wears the cloak of the man’s house. Which seems an awful lot like the woman passing over as a possession from her father’s house to her husband’s. So it’s yet another detail that has us think Valyria was a civilization that believed more in the equality of men and women.

And lastly, the tension. The lines are divided more ad more clearly bit by bit and we are getting that foreshadowing of how events will be, which is one of GRRM’s signature styles. This had me remember how similar the Targaryen ‘Dance of the Dragons’ civil war was to the struggle for power that happened in Valyria. The Dance is all about the blacks and greens, two Targaryen successors seeking to come on top one another and claim the Iron Throne, dividing the realms in forcing the houses to take sides. Death followed, by dragon battles and assassinations alike, deception and treasons, etc.. This was the beginning of the end for the Targaryens ( as a dynasty, but also almost as a bloodline ). In time, all dragons died and no more hatched; what made the Targaryens ‘different’ and stronger was no more. This is an echo of how Valyria’s own Doom began. Valyria, where two dragonlord families were in a constant ‘dance’ of struggle for power, rising and falling and rising again, with deception, treasonous schemes and assassinations, likely also dragon vs dragon battles. It’s very likely that the dragonlord families were also forced to choose sides, which is why the Targaryens were deemed as cowards when they simply left. The most powerful civilization in the world destroyed itself, just as the Targaryens eventually did; they survived the Doom only to follow in the ways that led their ancestral home down a path of self-destruction. This is also a very GRRM style right there.

From the beginning in the show, on episode one, we get Rhaenyra’s recount which closes with “The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.” We get from the start the setting on what the show is about. So I find it pretty interesting and telling that we are given all these details and background info on Valyria throughout the episodes. Even the intro is Valyria and its ‘blood tracing’. I’ve no doubt that blood ( the power, the purity of it ) had a lot to do in that conflict for power in the Valyrian Freehold as well. Although we don’t know for sure how the Doom happened ( what specifically triggered the Fourteen Flames to erupt ) the outcome is ultimately ( through the years, for the Targaryens ) the same as the Dance: the death of dragons, the loss of their power. And in the background of both things, we have the element of prophecy.

But yes, I think that is enough of the thoughts for now. I am liking the show but I admit the one main reason why I watch is for all the Valyria tidbits that help develop ( and confirm ) more of the headcanons.

#yes i had to get this out cuz i HAVE TOO MANY THOUGHTS OK #i was talking to the rp wife/bff on discord about this last night so i thought 'should post about this'#so yes i did... instead of you know RPING but yeah idk how i even make time to write this right now #tati ooc #should i tag this as headcanons.... why not so it easier to find #vae headcanons #[ D R A G O N L O R D ] Vaedar #[ L E N T O N ] Valyria

6 notes · View notes

noblehcart · 8 months

Text

me: tODAY will be a luka mikhailov day. sb: -but you don't even write him anymore. he's not even really a muse anymore. me: idgaf im in my feels

#// ooc #yeah im still in mourning #check the posts from last night ok

1 note · View note

eddiernunson · 11 days

Text

I Can Do it With a Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

NOW POSTED

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Excerpt here:

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be this gorgeous, it’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He dusts the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to class its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tilted floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per say. But a sweet girl like Chrissy, one that bore pretty blonde curls, a sweet smile and a sweet disposition, this is like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to the notion of living in a small town, you could recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, watching in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?”

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this isn’t a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you tried to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what is probably another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoked more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

Final word count is about 24k so I think I'll post on the 15 to give my editor a fighting chance. If you want to be tagged let me know <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut

904 notes · View notes

bigfatbimbo · 1 month

Note

ok so like. fluffy shit ab the vees.

THEY WOULD DEF HAVE MOVIE NIGHT DATES WITH YOU AND YALL WOULD PLAYFULLY BICKER OVER WHAT MOVIE TO CHOOSE (but it would prob end up being ur pick cuz they all would love u sm and also bc they all have drastically different tastes in movies. val would pick a porno, vox would pick like a shark documentary or like fucking openheimer and velvette would pick like the barbie movie or mean girls or something relatively generic but still awesome)

i also think yall would have the BEST cuddle piles cuz val has enough arms for everyone and they all would be fantastic cuddlers bc i said so (canon what canon? ooc haha idk her)

yall def have self care nights too, and sincw vox can't really participate much he usually ends up just resting his head on your lap while vel and val do skincare and haircare and all that jazz

hope this suffices i love them all sm (maybe val slightly less cuz im lowkey an angel fan and he creeps me out a tad bit but u didn't hear anything)

STARTING THE DAY OFF WITH A CUTE FLUFFY POST. The last one is actually adorable and I love you forever. Anyways, good morning tumblr!

also hate sex with lute probably later today because i’ve been extremely pissed off lately and my writing is 10x better when I project.

#hazbin hotel x reader #the vees x reader #inbox open

109 notes · View notes

chadillacboseman · 7 months

Note

Hiii :)))

I saw your Makarov posts and I am obsessed with how you write him! I was wondering if I could request a writing? Could you write a oneshot where the reader is completely unaware of just WHO Makarov is and thinks he's a regular guy (established relationship) but she somehow finds out what he does/ has done and he lowkey kinda panics bc how tf did she figured that out??? And is she gonna leave??? But he explains how much he's doing to make sure she never is exposed to his work and he becomes more desperate to make sure she stays? Idk i like him lowkey kinda OOC 😌

If not that's totally ok! Have a good day!!

HELLO GREAT IDEA I LOVE YOU.

ALSO- Jason Isbell has a song called "Live Oak" that I feel fits really well:

There's a man who walks beside me

He is who I used to be

And I wonder if she sees him and confuses him with me

And I wonder who she's pinin' for

On nights I'm not around

Could it be the man who did the things

I'm living down?

Makarov had worked very hard to keep his "work" away from you. He crafted believable stories, spun from whole cloth, to explain his extended absences and late nights spent away from home. When his men kept an eye on the house, he made them do it in secret, hoping, no- praying that you wouldn't notice the familiar cars that parked on the street every night.

As they say, though, even the best laid plans can go awry.

Makarov's phone rang in the middle of the night, the soft thrum of the vibration just enough to wake him, but not you. He scrambled from the bed, quickly swiping to answer the call while making his way into the hallway.

"What is it?" he asked, sleep still clinging to his voice as he paced in the small space.

An errant creak in the floorboards made him curse in Russian, glancing over his shoulder to make sure it hadn't awoken you.

In the bedroom, you stirred, reaching a hand over to his side of the bed and blinking awake when you found it empty.

"V?" you croaked out into the darkness.

No answer.

You could hear the soft sound of his voice coming from the hallway, words muffled by the distance between you. You rose to your feet quietly, trying to shake the tiredness from your mind.

Makarov had his back to you, his phone pressed against his ear; he was whispering, but you could hear the angry hiss in his voice.

"I told you to tie up the loose ends!" he paused to listen to the man's response and scoffed quietly, "Make sure he's dead before morning, or I'll put a bullet between your eyes myself."

Your heart hammered out an erratic rythm in your chest, so loud that you were sure he could hear it. Had you misheard him?

Makarov ended the call and immediately swiped his thumb across the numbers, dialing a contact you didn't recognize.

"Ivan just called me," he hissed into the phone when the person picked up, "After that stunt at the train station in London-"

His next words were lost to the ringing in your ears.

Train station? Your memory flashes to the news articles, the tv coverage- dozens dead, and hundreds more injured in a blast that NCA and Interpol were still investigating.

Before you could stop it, a small gasp fell from your mouth, impossibly loud in the quiet space. At the sound of it, Makarov's shoulders stiffened, his broad frame becoming rigid in the darkness.

He ended the call abruptly and tried to swallow his heart down out of his throat. His mind was on fire, racing with what to do- what to say-

When he finally turned to face you, his face was pale and his eyes were full of desperation.

The two of you stood in silence, neither willing to break it and confront what had just happened. You'd shared your life with him for the last four years- had laid in bed next to a killer. How many plots had he orchestrated? How many people had died at his behest?

Makarov finally broke the silence with a whisper of your name, "Please- let me explain."

You looked so afraid, wild-eyed like a doe that hears the errant crack of a twig in the forest. His heart was in his stomach now; he felt as if his entire world was about to fall down around him.

Part of you wanted to leave. To pack a bag and find a cheap hotel to put some distance between the two of you. But another part of you, a bigger part, wanted a fucking explanation.

But what could he possibly say?

Makarov closed the distance between the two of you, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. You flinched at the movement, and he felt his heart break.

"I did everything I could to keep you safe," he murmured, his dark eyes never wavering from yours, "I didn't-" he paused for a moment, searching for the words, "I didn't want you to know who I am- what I am."

"You'll never have to find that out. I promise."

"And what are you?" You whispered. You felt as if your life had been upended entirely, pieces of your broken image of him scattered like a shattered piece of china.

"And what if the enemies you've made come for me?" You asked, defiantly, pulling your face from his grip.

A possibility he'd considered thousands of times. That you pulled away from his touch while you asked it pierced his chest like a knife.

How could he begin to explain the details his men kept on the house? The late nights he spent awake when a noise roused him from his sleep, ears strained in the darkness and a grip on his pistol?

"My men watch the house when I'm gone," Makarov searched your face for any sign of relief, "I will always keep you safe, Любимая."

There was so much more he wanted to say-

Don't leave me.

You're the closest thing to normal I have.

I love you.

"No one will ever lay a hand on you," he brought his hand to your face once more and you let him, closing your eyes as his thumb swept across your cheek gently, "Please, give me a chance."

You wondered, now, how many sleepless nights he had spent making sure you were safe. How many times he'd been away, nerves on edge with worry of your safety.

Could you still see him as the same "V"?

"Promise me something?" You stared up into his eyes, sparkling in the dark hallway.

"Anything," he breathed, bringing his face closer to yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours as he spoke.

"I want things to stay like they were. I don't...I don't want to know about what you do."

You weren't even sure that was possible. But you had to try.

Makarov brought his lips to yours, his stubbled chin grating gently against your skin as he kissed you. For a moment, everything felt right again as he pulled you tight against him, the warmth of his body such a familiar comfort you could almost forget what you'd heard. When he broke the kiss, he was breathing heavily, his eyes flitting to yours once more.

"I promise."

#makarov x reader #vladimir makarov x reader #my writing #bird meme: 'AND THEN THEY FUCKED'

374 notes · View notes

yesitsmewhataboutit · 27 days

Text

Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind

Alpha!Shoto x Omega!Reader

➤ Part 2 to this fic - Shoto has no memory of what happened, or what he did (u can find request in part 1 comments)

Warning ⚠️: injury talk

»»——⍟——««A/n: I feel like Todoroki is OOC here…. The title sucks and I feel like the fic sucks. Why am I posting it? Who knows 😭😭but ig maybe yall will like it

Omegaverse Key

Masterlist

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ Requests open　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

You spend the rest of the night there with Todoroki. When he's asleep, you manage to slip away to put the groceries away and clean up the blood from his face and hands. By the morning, he's still out cold. You call his agency to tell them he won't be in and start making breakfast, preparing to wake him.

You walk to the couch and kneel down next to Shoto, putting your hand on his shoulder and shaking him a bit. "Sho. Sho, wake up," you say gently.

He groans, his eyes opening and chest rising as he takes a deep breath. Shoto tries to turn his head and look at you, but the second he moves, you can see the slight flitch in his face, his hand rising to his shoulder, feeling the bandage over his scent gland.

"What happened?"

"Your scent glands got infected. Do you remember yesterday at all? Or how it may have happened?"

Shoto groans. "That's the last time I use that stupid detergent from Kaminari."

"What?" you laugh.

"There was a... incident after a fight, involving some weirdly constructed slime, some dirt, and flower,” he mumbles. “Anyway, long story short, I had to wash my suit at the office, and Kaminari offered a special mix of detergent he uses. Considering his "special mix" of slime was part of how I got into that situation, it was a poor decision on my part. Must’ve had a reaction.”

You can't help but snicker a little. "Oh, Shoto." You shake your head and stand. "Come on, I made breakfast. Let's go to our room."

Shoto spends the day recovering in bed. While he's taking a nap, you begin washing the dishes from breakfast. In your own world you don't hear him walking up behind you. "Hey, Love," he says, resting his hand around your waist and leaning on your back, a normal action for him. Before you can respond, though, you feel the slight surge of pain jolt through you, him unknowingly touching the bruise on your back, making you jolt away from him.

You try to play it off, turning around and smiling at him. "Hey, how are you feeling?" You lean up to give him a kiss, but he backs away, a frown on his face.

"What was that? Are you ok?"

You turn around, shrugging like it's nothing. "Yeah. I'm fine." Shoto stands behind you, watching you closely. He raises his hand, gently touching you again. You don't react as much, but he notices how your body tightens up a little. "Y/n-"

"Shoto, I'm fine-" you begin, turning around to face him again, and as you do, you hit a glass off the counter, it shattering on the floor. "Oh, sorry!" you say, putting your hand out so he doesn't get cut.

"Y/n, be careful!" Shoto says, reaching out his hand to help you over it. You take his hand, stepping over the glass and grabbing the broom.

You and Shoto being cleaning, you'd like to believe it really was an accident and not a subconscious way to distract Shoto from your reaction. You knew he'd feel crushed if he saw the -still fresh and red- marks all over you, and you know he doesn't remember, so you decide to move on and not mention it to him until they're a bit more healed.

Three days later, Shoto is feeling better and heading back to his agency. In the area you work for, your schedule is one week on, and one week off, but the week off is set as only on-call, this's your on-call week.

You end up getting a call around two o'clock, and by the time you're done, you're tired and sore, especially where the claw and teeth marks are, your hero suit having been rubbing against them for hours. When you get home, you shrug off the top of your hero suit, figuring Shoto isn't home yet from the fight you heard he was in earlier in the day.

You stop at the counter in the kitchen, wanting to make a quick snack that you can take with you to the bedroom. You hear shuffling in the hallway, and then a voice. "Y/n." You turn around and smile.

"Oh! Hi, Shoto," you smile. You can make out his figure in the darkness, and you're hoping he can't see you clearly with only the light you turned on over the sink.

You know if he sees you, you'll be busted. You have a tank top on, but it doesn't hide what's on your shoulder.

"Hey! I was just making a snack," you say, turning around and reaching to grab your plate and turn the light off. When you turn back, he's only a few feet from you, and he stops with only inches between you. He takes one hand, taking the plate out of your hand, and at the same time reaching behind you and flicking the light back on. You can only look up at him, as his eyes focus on your shoulder and his hand slowly sets down your plate. "Y/n," he asks lowly.

"Yeah?"

"Who did this to you?"

"Sho, it's nothing," you say, trying to turn and walk away, but getting caught by his hand instinctively flying out, catching your side and again, making you flinch.

Shoto makes a face, his hand dropping away from you. "Let me see."

"Shoto-"

"Let. Me. See." You sigh in defeat, turning around and lifting your shirt. "Are those claw marks, Y/n?" The color in his eyes darkens, the color of an alpha coming out, the telling sign of anger levels rising.

"Yes, but they're not even that deep-"

"Who. Did. This."

You couldn't look at him, you didn't know what to say, how to say they were his claw marks. "They aren't that bad, Sho, it's fine."

"You're bleeding Y/n! How could you say that!"

"It's only sometimes, they're healing. How'd you know?"

"There's been blood on your shirts. It's small, not super noticeable, but not to mention every time I'd get too close or touch a certain spot you flinch. How did it Y/n? These are claw marks, deep claw marks. And a bite, that's frankly too close to your mating mark for my taste. And I know it is not from a fight, that no part of this is from a fight. What happened Y/n?"

You look down at your hands. "You did. Um, you were pretty out of it when Recovery Girl came over. So, to make sure you didn't attack her and stay still, I had you lean over me. You're body reacted automatically, it's really no big deal, Sho." You look up at him, and part of you wishes you hadn't. The anger and darkness in his eyes were replaced with hurt and sadness.

"Y/n, you- why didn't you tell me?" his voice sounds so small, so broken and it nearly breaks you.

"Cause, I knew you would beat yourself up. It's really not that bad."

"Y/n, it could get infected. Why aren't you treating them?" Shoto takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, making you sit and take your shirt off.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," you say as he starts treating the marks on your back.

"It's alright Y/n, just please don't do this again. You need to tell me next time. Accident or not. I thought you were attacked."

You sigh again. Shoto coming around and looking at your face, his eyes meeting yours, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek as he places a kiss on your lips. "I'm sorry, Love. And I promise I'll make this up to you."

"There's really no need. I told you, I'm fine."

No, Y/n. You're my omega and I left marks on you. Lasting marks. I will make this up for you. Promise."

Masterlist

#shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto scenarios #todoroki fluff #todoroki shoto x reader #alpha Todoroki x reader #alpha Todoroki #alpha shoto #alpha!shoto x reader #alpha!shoto x omega!reader #mha omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #alpha!todoroki #shoto x reader

107 notes · View notes

elioherondale · 6 months

Text

Bette Kane: The original Batgirl and how her history never technically got retconned at all

So this is basically a repost from an old reblog I did but I doubt it's gonna get any traction so I've decided to post it here so more people can actually know about it. (I suggest actually reading what I wrote in the original thing cause there's some parts where I did at OP's comments and it'll look a bit weird here OOC)

let's actually talk about that "continuity dependence" So Bette is regarded by most of the fandom as having only been Batgirl only in Pre-Crisis (some people also think that she just never re-appeared after 1967 but that's not true since she appeared as a key character in the ending three-parter conclusion to the 70s Teen Titans run which set up Titans West). As in, Bette has only ever been Flamebird Post-Crisis and Hawkfire Post-Flashpoint.

Something to explain the whole thing about how Bette became Flamebird, Marv Wolfman decided that the Titans West three-parter was canon and this wrote about it in the Secret Origins 1989 Annual. Except Babs was the first person to become Batgirl Post-Crisis which meant it couldn't be Bette (for some reason), thus the story was rewritten so that instead of being Bat-Girl, a competitive tennis named player Bette Kane joined the Titans West under the mantle of Flamebird (where she got the name, we'll never know). So basically, Post-Crisis Bette was never Batgirl, right? At least, not until that very small duration of time when Morrison brought back Kathy Kane, right?

Below is the following panel from Young Justice Issue #21 where Bette herself confirms she has been Batgirl in the past. (after the New Titans Secret Origins issue tried to make it seem like she'd always been Flamebird the entire time). Take not that she says this whilst fighting alongside the latest Batgirl, Cass Cain

ok, so that only means the between 1985-2000, Bette was never Batgirl. Except that's not true. I especially know it's not true because of a key story that I think a lot of Batgirl stans are familiar with. Say hello to Page 10 of The Killing Joke. Also known as Bette Kane's first Post-Crisis first appearance.

Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying? Are you saying that Bette's history as Batgirl was never erased with Crisis? Are you saying that the argument that Babs, Steph and Cass stans that "oh, but she doesn't count/oh, but she was written out of continuity" isn't true? That's not possible. Oh, you toxic autumn child. It was always possible. It was merely that the spoutings of Babs stans who were angry that she wasn't the first Batgirl were taken as gospel /j (that or just how low her appearances have been throughout her creation)

Now, that just leaves us with one final era to go: Post-Flashpoint. Now unfortunately, I don't have anything from New 52 that implies she was Batgirl and I can't take the whole contracted timeline thing as concrete either so I'll just say this: Bette is in the same boat as Steph and Cass in terms of their backgrounds as Batgirl being erased in the New 52 before reclaiming their histories back.

Now I do have evidence of Bette being Batgirl Post-Flashpoint - Dark Nights Death Metal: The Last Stories Of The DC Multiverse. More specifically, the story "Together" where it shows nearly every single Titans and Teen Titans member (along with some Fearsome Five, Project Defiance and Young Justice and weirdly missing Team Titans). On the bottom left hand corner, you can see cast of the 70s Teen Titans run which includes Bette Kane as Batgirl.

And so there you go. Bette's history as Batgirl was never erased and is a legitimate member of the mantle as its originator.

If you sincerely think she doesn't count as Batgirl, I think you should go and take a deep look in the mirror and see for yourself what that speaks about you.

#Bette Kane #Batgirl #Bat-Girl #Flamebird #Barbara Gordon #babs gordon #Oracle #Stephanie Brown #Spoiler #Cassandra Cain #cass cain #Black Bat #Orphan #Teen Titans #Batfam #Titans West

82 notes · View notes

bugflies00 · 1 month

Text

do i have a presentation due at 8am that i have barely started even though its midnight? yes. however i was thinking again about the category 5 ctommy event last night and all the things i talked or saw people post about and it got me thinking

i was especially thinking about how ctommy is too often, in fan interpretations, forced into the role of the perfect, quiet, palatable victim — which, i mean, we've all made various posts on the subject, i don't need to get into the how again — but i was trying to think about why.

because on one hand, a good part of it, its true, circles back to what society has deemed the "acceptable" victim, which many of us have internalised and unknowingly refer back to, hence why many automatically try to sand ctommy down to be more "pitiful" (not saying people do this intentionally btw . we all have biases like that and they show up in different ways . i just like Talking about this stuff this is Not a callout or god forbid telling people to harass fic writers they disagree with. Ok.)

but i also think, in ctommy's case, a lot of it can come from. projection? well this might be the case with many other characters obviously but im focusing on ctommy here because like. i think he's a character who's very relatable for so many people, who are also loud and not subtle or discreet and who feel annoying most of the time, and a lot of whom are kids and teenagers. and something that's always struck me when reading comments etc about him is theres this sentiment of- when this fictional character is annoying it's seen as loveable and endearing, so why isn't it the case for me, as a person, in real life? a lot of those fans have also been hurt or perhaps even abused and found a way to relate through ctommy's own abuse

and so i think sometimes this tendency to "sand ctommy down" is less out of a desire to actually reduce his character but rather because, through him, they want their hurt and pain to be recognised. and as we all know, when ctommy is quiet, that is so unusual that in fics, it often immediately strikes a reaction of "oh, what happened to you, who hurt you". it's the idea that him being annoying and loud is missed, but people only realise that when he's gone quiet. so the more "quiet" and "docile" he is shown as, the more striking that reaction from other characters will be, and the more support he receives. im not in any way saying this is something you should apply to real people or anything, im saying that this is a trend not just in ctommy fics but in general media — if you're someone who is loud and brash, it's often portrayed like the only way people will acknowledge that you have feelings at all is if you lose that "spark", and suddenly people miss you being annoying.

and suddenly, it makes a lot of sense why so many fic authors write ctommy as so oddly ooc and quiet and pliable and docile — because they've been taught that's what a victim should be, but they're not like that! and you can live vicariously through a fictional character who's able to undergo a much more drastic outward transformation than you and be showered in love for it, and theres a desire for that to happen to them in real life, to have their hurt actually acknowledged. is this word vomit does anyone understand what im trying to say here

#i dont even know if this makes any sense lmao #also Absolutely none of this is personal experience i have never given a thought to ctommy in my life. hope this helps .#alex.rambles.txt #c!tommy #mcyt #tw abuse #tommyinnit

46 notes · View notes

mccnstruck · 6 months

Text

the dreams you let me follow.

characters: kazuha x gn!reader

tags: hurt/comfort, reverse comfort but also comfort both of you guys are a mess, not proofread, 2k+ words, long fic, gender neutral, no pronouns besides "you" for reader, self-indulgent, op is possessed by kazuha brainrot, could be seen in the same storyline as “never alone”, mentions of mental breakdowns, implied emotional abuse?, very ooc i don't know man

a/n: i know i posted like a few days ago but as today comes to an end i literally couldn't let myself go to bed without making something for kazuha. happy birthday kazuhaalkdlwklkaw AHHDHDHHAH ok. but anyways the ending was HORRENDOUS but if i carried it on any longer i would never finish this. reblogs and tags are much appreciated. oh and also you and kazuha both have abandonment issues LMFAOOAOOAOA

You looked beyond the windows of your Mondstadt home and onto the rain that poured on Monstadt City. The sun hid behind grey clouds, whose sobs embodied the roaring thunder. Its tears fell onto Mondstadt soil, and you saw people quickly run back home to the warmth of their homes. You turned on the lamp beside your bed and took a journal out of the bookshelf next to your bed. Your fingers felt the embroidery on the book’s spine and grazed over the writing on the cover. The red ink on the front read: “To Kadehara Kazuha.”

You opened the journal and grazed over your handwriting. Pages upon pages of messy handwriting took you back to the days when you first settled in Mondstadt.

You remembered the night before you set your travels for Mondstadt. You entered your cabin (for quite possibly, the last time in a long time) and saw him writing in his journal. Crimson eyes looked up at you and Kazuha smiled. The moonlight barely shone inside the cabin, but even you could make out the tears that slid down his face.

Your heart shattered when you heard his voice. “Hello, dear.”

“Kazuha, what happened?”

You rushed to his side and sat on the bed. You brought your hand to cradle his face and gently slid your thumb over the tear stains on his face.

You whispered, sadness lacing over your voice. “Kazuha…is it because of me?”

He sat in silence, and both you and him stared at the journal laid on his lap.

“As a wanderer, I should know your situation best. It is not your fault, by all means. You should be allowed to embrace the love of Mondstadt City.”

“Kazuha-”

“Yet. Yet I keep trying. I keep…on trying…to cling on…”

His tears fell onto the blanket and he hid his face from you; trying to wipe his tears away.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your world crumble around you.

Kazuha’s demeanor crumbled, and you pulled him into your arms.

Seeing Kazuha’s usual smile taken from you….because of you. He said it wasn’t your fault, yet you felt the loneliness of Kazuha’s future travels. You felt the future lonely nights when you would have to stare out the window: wondering where your lover would share his love.

But, you had to do this.

You had to escape. And Kazuha knew. Both of you knew.

Instead of comforting him with false lies you both knew to be meaningless; you instead made him promise one thing.

“Kazuha. Keep on writing. Keep on writing and exploring the world.”

He looked at you and paused at your words. “Why wouldn’t I do that in the first place?”

“Just…Just keep on writing. Never lose that spark. Do what you love, okay?”

You held out your hand to him and your pinky stuck out. The child in you, clinging to whatever promises you could believe in, desperately hoped for Kazuha to respond in kind.

You softly smiled when he intertwined his pinky in yours. He promised, no matter what happened, to always follow the spark in his heart.

At the thought of Kazuha, the journal in front of you became blurry. You looked up to find your home to be blurry as well. You were crying. Your tears fell as the gray clouds cried louder.

Archons, you wished to see him again. The unnerving fear of forgetting his face ate you alive every day, and you yearned to hear his voice once more. You were so busy laughing and working throughout the day that on nights when you only accompanied the thoughts in your head, you realized how long it had been.

Would you even be able to show your face in front of him? You just…left Kazuha and went on your travels.

No…you both knew. You had to leave Sumeru. You needed to build a home somewhere.

Sumeru…

But why….why did you feel something for Sumeru? Your chest felt heavy, full of sin. Your happiness felt sinful, almost as if you needed to go back and plead for the Akademiya to take you back.

Let them rip your designs to shreds, have them accept your crumpled academic papers with messy writing and dried tears.

Mama, Papa.

They wouldn’t even let you acknowledge them.

Did you mess up? Oh, you messed up. Did you? You could’ve lived with stability, with respect. You could’ve sacrificed your dreams, because everyone knows you’re just going to wake up anyways. Yet you lived your life sleepwalking, clinging to your dreams and ignoring reality.

Was this what your parents wanted you to see? No. They could’ve supported your ambitions. They could’ve pushed society’s whispers and helped you build your wishes.

Yet. They didn’t.

You couldn’t even remember their faces.

Mama. Papa.

You couldn’t remember their faces. Yet their voices haunted your very being every day.

Mama. Papa.

Mama. Papa. Mama. Papa. Mama, Papa, I’m so sorry Im so sorry im so soryryr mim sodttyt iams oso soryryruh please pforgive me PLEASE

Your thoughts were corrupted of pure hatred and that night, the beloved engineer of Mondstadt was left to rot in the hell of loneliness and insecurity.

No one was to go through the rain to find you crying, so you could’ve screamed at the walls in your home and still would’ve gotten no response. Yet, knowing how alone you were, you quietly trembled and wrapped yourself in your arms. Your journal laid at your side, and the hopes of seeing your beloved turned into desperate cries to not be alone. The dried tears on the page said it all.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying. Your chest felt the same heaviness, but your tears had stopped. You didn’t have the energy to wipe them off. You shifted on your bed to turn the lamp off when…

A thud shook your house, followed by a knock.

You would’ve excused the thud to be the thunder, but a knock? Who was to be at your home in the rain?

“Give me a minute!”

You felt extremely bad to delay some warmth to the person outside, but your face was completely unrepresentable. You rushed to the bathroom to wipe your tears off and disregarded the other visible signs you were crying. You pulled out a scarf to offer and rushed to the door.

When you opened the door, your eyes widened at the white hair with a crimson streak running through it. Crimson eyes looked back at you with glee, and the figure grinned at your shock.

“Hello, dear.”

“You’re lying. You’re lying. No, I’m dreaming. This is a joke-”

In your state of denial, he pulled your hand towards him and wrapped his arms around you. He hid you in his embrace, and not even the pouring rain could separate you from him.

Kazuha whispered, “It’s been so long…so…” He paused, his shoulders shaking, before he continued. “I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you.”

You gritted your teeth to hold back your sobs, yet the tears started again when you enclosed Kazuha in your arms.

Your voice shook, and your chest gasped for air. “Archons, I missed you. So much.”

Even with your warmth, Kazuha shivered from the cold winds. You led him inside and let him warm up by the fireplace while you prepared something to eat.

Kazuha noticed the tissues stacked up on your bed and your attempts to hide your journal in the bookshelf.

“Dear?”

Your head turned rapidly toward him and you put on a fake grin. Your tears were wiped off, yet your eyes looked pained; as if they were about to close with agony. “What’s up?”

“I…Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah. I’m ok. Why? Need anything?”

Kazuha worriedly smiled. “You seemed tense. And when you opened the door, your face looked pained. Desperate.”

You paused at Kazuha’s words and almost whirled back into your thoughts. You never understood how Kazuha could see past you, but it was an admirable skill, yet it made you very vulnerable.

You regain your voice and shakily respond. “Hm. I’m just.. stressed. Don’t worry, it's a usual thing. Don’t worry yourself about it. Can’t have your pretty little head anxious over me.”

Your flirtatious remarks would’ve gotten to him, had your voice been more steady and confident.

Kazuha, to your relief, let you drop the topic. Yet you knew he wasn’t going to let you go without talking.

He pulled out a journal from his bag and laid it on his lap. The journal was colored red with designs that originated from Inazuma. He opened it to the very first page and began to speak.

“That night before you left the Crux, I wrote in a new journal I had gotten. Remember the shop we visited in Inazuma?”

You hummed, acknowledging the memory.

“I awoke in the middle of the night and wrote my first entry. It was dedicated to you. Here,” he held the open journal and gestured for you to read it, “you can read it.”

You take the journal from Kazuha’s grasp and sit down in the seat next to his.

“To My Engineer,

You’re so far away in the land of dreams, that I’m afraid I cannot reach you even in the night. I had a nightmare, but I don’t want to bother you right now. You have a long day ahead of you.

My Engineer. I hope I get to see you again so that one day I can show you this journal and you can ask me why I called you ‘my engineer’ instead of ‘my dear’.”

You cheekily ask, “Why did you call me your engineer?”

Kazuha chuckled and gestured for you to read further.

“Ever since I met you, I was so enthralled with your dreams that I forgot that those dreams aren’t stuck in place. Yet I clung on.

To the future engineer who sees this. I am so proud of you. Leaving home, knowing it doesn’t call for you, hurts. I am so proud of you.

I miss you. Yet you lay next to me as of right now, sound asleep. I’ll miss you, so very much, my engineer. Yet I know your dreams will inspire little kids and make Mondstadt proud. That’s what I admire about you. Your dreams don’t stop with you, but grow to communities, and will grow around Teyvat, in time. No matter what anyone says, you deserve to follow your dreams. You shouldn’t have to be stuck in one place. You’ve taught me the same.

This journal is dedicated to you. When you told me to follow my spark, a part of me hoped my spark would lead me to you.

My engineer, I hope you build your dreams and smile at your designs. I hope I can see you again.

Your lover,

K. Kazuha”

Your voice lost all of its stability when you whispered Kazuha’s name. You looked up with teary eyes to see Kazuha staring at the journal with a bittersweet smile.

“Ever since you told me to never stop writing, and to follow my spark, I thought about Inazuma after so long. For so long, I refused to remember the decline of the clan. But, that night, I thought about the promise between my father and I. I…”

He fell silent, yet his face remained the same.

“You’ve shown me, indirectly, how dreams heal the soul. Dreams are such temporary illusions we indulge ourselves in, but it is also a future promise to ourselves. Humanity cannot stay forever in one place. If a wounded animal wants to escape from a trap, it has to sacrifice the hind leg that was caught. Staying in the trap has far more deadly consequences.”

You held Kazuha’s hand and slid your thumb over his skin. Kazuha finally looked at you and closed his eyes; letting the touch of your skin ground him to Teyvat.

After a little while of shared silence, you let go of his hand and wiped your tears. You stood up and moved to your bookshelf, taking out the journal with the embroidery on the spine.

Kazuha raised his eyebrows with curiosity as you sat back down. You laid out the journal in front of him and gave him a teary smile.

“I wrote a journal dedicated to you too. I don’t think my dreams ever not consisted of you in them.”

He opened the journal to find pages upon pages of messy handwriting in front of him; all consisting of different dates, all to him.

“I…Even though I couldn’t see you, I still felt your presence with me. So I kept a journal of my own.”

Kazuha flipped through the journal and saw his name on every page he flipped through. Messy handwriting spelled out his name through times of sadness and times of joy. Your handwriting spelled out his name, Kazuha. Kazuha. Kazuha. Kazuha.

“Kazuha?”

He looked up at you and realized he was crying.

“I…I don’t know why. I tried to ease my mind by thinking that you would be so caught up in your work. I just…you dedicated this to me…”

You stood from your seat and pulled Kazuha into your arms. He rested his head on your shoulder, and both of your journals laid next to each other.

All of your problems, the guilt, the shame, it would never go truly away. But knowing Kazuha was here, whether with you or traveling the world, kept you chasing your dreams. You only hoped that he was here to see those dreams become reality.

The thunderstorm of the night continuously roared throughout the lands, yet for a moment it calmed itself at the two lovers’ embrace, who couldn’t be bothered by the world’s burdens placed upon them. The thunderstorm paused its cries to listen to the quiet declarations between two lovers, before starting back up again and letting its tears merge with the Mondstadt soil.

mccnstruck. do not plagiarize or repost.

taglist: @risekuni, @omori-1, @tearsasmascara, @yinyinggie

#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #[ the lost library ]

54 notes · View notes

queer-here-and-in-fear · 3 months

Text

underneath (silver linings are found)

A03 version

tags:

Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Lilith Magne | Morningstar, Post-Canon, Feel-good, Protective Charlie Magne, Lilith Magne is a Bitch, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lilith Magne owns Alastor's Soul, owned actually. past tense, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), look. hes technically a bit ooc but its also 2 years post canon SUE ME, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel)

note: uhh hope this is good!! my first hazbin fic lol!!! if you like this feel free to send me writing or art requests in the comments, or on my tumblr, @queer-here-and-in-fear!!

It had been exactly two months and three days since Alastor had last grinned, and Charlie was starting to lose it a little. She wasn’t the only one in the hotel to notice, no, Vaggie had been giving Alastor weird looks since it started, and Angel Dust had been joking about it up and down, but nobody else was concerned. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, but so much had been happening, Charlie couldn’t really blame them for not asking.

But someone had too.

It wasn’t like there was any reason for this, at least none that Charlie could figure out. Everything was better now. Sir Pentious wasn’t dead, he was ok (even if he didn’t remember them - because they could fix that, they couldn’t fix death), they had managed to push back extermination while heavens court deliberated, and Alastor wasn’t stuck in the deal with Charlies mom anymore, he was free. So everything was supposed to better.

.. But something was still wrong, because Alastor still wasn’t grinning. He was still smiling, sure, but it didn’t reach his eyes and compared to the big wide grin Charlie had grown to know over the past two years; it wasn’t much. He was still Alastor, Charlie knew it wasn’t all just faked because of the deal with her mom, but.. it was odd.

She had tried her best to ignore it, really, she had tried so hard. Alastor warned them (in what she could swear was meant to be a moment of vulnerability, holy shit her hotel was working) that he was gonna need some time to get better. That was okay by Charlie, she knew a solid half of that deal was just meaningless torture on her moms part (which was not messing with her head, thank you very much.)

It had been two months, though, and Alastor had said he felt mostly better now, and he still wasn’t grinning. Charlie wasn’t sure the last time she had seen his teeth where he wasn’t eating or baring them. It was a stupid, small thing to get caught up when everything was better and they were working to make it even more better, but she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was going to go Nifty levels of insane if she keeped trying to ignore it.

So, after a long long hour of pacing and ringing her hands and running her fingers through her hair and ranting aloud to herself (she wasn’t sure she could thank her dad enough for the sound proof room), she slid out of her room and into the lobby. She had a good feeling Alastor was in there, and it took about two steps into the lobby and a quick look around to prove herself right.

“Oh, Charlie, my dear! Any reason why you’re up at the devils hour?” Alastor looked up from his book and asked with a small little smile, the hum of radio static steady under his voice, and Charlie felt her heart ease a bit up at the soft sight. Right.

There was another reason she hadn’t asked yet, other than her anxiety - Alastor was genuinely getting better. She could see it now as Alastor placed his book on the table and shifted to the side to give her room to sit down. He looked, and acted, genuinely better.

All his movements felt lighter now; less deliberate, more genuine. She was pretty sure Husk had said it best one night when they were talking over whisky. (“I damn knew somethin’ was wrong with the bastard when he came back. He was all tight strung and quick spoke - wasn’t like that before. I swear, I thought he had been a professional actor past seven years, he did nothing naturally! Feels more normal now, and I’m damn glad for it.”)

“Just a bit antsy,” she answered with a smile she was pretty sure held her painfully obvious anxiety. She slid into the spot Alastor had made for her and quickly pulled her ankles up to sit criss-cross, her hands running over her legs and her eyes, for the moment, glued to her lap. She knew her anxious tells were painfully obvious, but she was pretty sure trying to act normal would make her combust. After a second, her gaze drifted back up to Alastor, “what about you?”

“I’m doing just splendid darling!” He answered with an ease that soothed Charlie a bit. It was.. nicer to hear him speak now, knowing that every word was of his free will. Even if he was lying, at least he was choosing to lie. That had to count for something. “Say, Charlie, what has you oh so antsy at this witching hour?”

“I just,” she cut herself off and took a deep breath before looking back to Alastor, and explaining, “ok, so - I know a lot has changed and a lot is changing and I’m ok with that, of course I am! And if you don’t want to answer that’s completely fine, no bad blood - and no matter what you do answer, if you even choose too - I won’t be mad or anything. I just - I have a question. For you.”

Alastor blinked, giving her a blank stare for a moment as he processed the ramble. After a moment though, he gave Charlie another of his too small smiles and a clapped a hand on to her shoulder. “Well, ask away my dear! No need to leave me or yourself waiting any longer now.” He said, giving her an expectant look.

It took Charlie another five seconds of painfully staring at her lap before the words wouldn’t be held in anymore, and the whole question came tumbling out so fast Charlie was pretty sure it counted as one word- “why haven’t you been grinning at all?”

It took about another two seconds of no answer until Charlie was rambling again, the words spilling out before she could really stop them. “I mean, it’s not like you have to, of course not! I would never make you do anything you don’t want too, I’m not like my mom, I’m just.. concerned, I guess. You used to grin all the time and now you don’t and-”

Alastor cleared his throat and Charlie snapped her head up so fast she vaguely worried she was going to give herself a neck injury. “I take no offense to the question, Charlie,” he started, “and my will is not so easily swayed that I will change my behavior just because of a simple question you asked.”

“Right, right, of course,” Charlie said, hands still ringing in her lap as she practically brimmed with anxiety.

There was another uncomfortable silence before Alastor started speaking again. Just a year or two ago Charlie would’ve called herself stupid for even thinking it, but now she could recognize the furrow to his brow as nervousness. “I will answer your question. I just.. would like to give some context first. Charlie, do you know how your mother could be cruel?”

Charlie did. She couldn’t unknow it, because it all made her sick. The same women who preached about being their to impower demon kind could torture one of them, needlessly. She fucking sowed his mouth half shut instead of just making a vocal deal about it like a normal person to- to fucking what, prove a point? Alastor had been cooperating, he hadn’t done anything, and she fucking hurt him for fun while playing at being an angel-

It was only when Alastor’s gentle hand tapped against the point of her horn she realized she had horns to be tapped, and she cleared her throat with embarrassment. “I’ll take that for a yes,” Alastor started, a small bit of brimming affection in his tone, “there was.. one more incident of that I haven’t brought up yet.”

The words already set a chill to Charlies spine and her mind racing, a million god awful and painful to think about possibilities running through her head, but Alastor’s next question made her blood run cold. “Do you remember a single time I wasn’t grinning before the deal was broken?”

Charlie.. Charlie couldn’t, could she? That was why she was so concerned about his lack of teeth baring in the first place, it was so normal that the loss of it sent her mind spinning. But now that she thought to it, the dates lining up perfectly - oh. She was the last to realize, wasn’t she.

“... No. You couldn’t stop grinning, could you?” She whispered with mounting horror.

Alastor gave a small nod. “That is true.”

Charlie suddenly threw herself back on the couch, groaning with painful frustration and hiding her face in her hands. “Of course you didn’t want to grin while crying! Shit, how didn’t I realize it earlier? I- fuck, I could’ve done something, I could’ve helped you.”

Alastor blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. Hesitantly, he reached down with a comforting hand, lightly patting her shoulder. “There there, my demon belle. It is no bad blood you didn’t get me out earlier - I’m out now, am I not? As well, it might’ve been.. for the best, that the deal stayed as it was for a while. Even if it was terribly unpleasant.”

That caught Charlies attention as she sat up again, looking over to Alastor with pure, unmarred confusion covering her face. “.. What do you mean it’s for the better the deal stayed in place? The deal nearly got you killed, like.. twice!” She said, waving her hands around with frustration.

“..I’ll concede, it is true that the deal did cause me great detriment,” Alastor said, before continuing, “however - it wasn’t all bad. I would’ve never came to the hotel if your mother didn’t force me too.” He pointed out with a small smile on his lips, “I would’ve never met Vagatha, or Angel Dust, or our dear Sir Repentious, or even-” he reached down, suddenly tapping Charlie on the nose, “you, my dear.”

Charlie laughed softly before turning back around again, guilt still brimming under her voice. “Sure, I guess, but you should have never been forced to stay. I wanted that to be a choice, y’know, and you, my co-host, were forced and I didn’t even know. It just.. it bothers me.”

“Well, even if the situation was forced, my affection wasn’t,” Alastor held up one finger to stop Charlie from contesting him, “I know it wasn’t, because for a long long time before you freed me, I had resentment building.” Charlie blinked, staring up at him with surprise.

“I wanted to get my just-deserts, my bloody vengeance in glorious fashion once my wings were unclipped - however, after so long of having only you as a symbol of your mother, I missed sight of who was at fault,” Charlie listened, vaguely recognizing the emotion in his voice as guilt. “I wanted to get vengeance upon you, even when I was more than aware you weren’t at fault.”

“However, over time, that rage faded - not for your mother, of course, but for you. After so many nights of you healing wounds and helping souls and showing me kindness, even as I loudly detested everything you stood for with a grin on my face, I realized that you weren’t the one to blame. So, really, it was for the best.”

Charlie blinked up at him, before slowing leaning over and resting her head on Alastor’s shoulder, taking in the warm and familiar silence of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

#nox text posts #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie magne #the radio demon

40 notes · View notes