#she was in mourning for so long after he died. she had to live with her sister for a long time because it was devestating

[itsyagurlchip]

٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭  ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰Down in N'awleans ٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭  ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰

✰⋆⁺warnings: alastor(!) ace alastor and reader(!) cussing(!) its hell man idk what to tell u(!) very cultural (!) reader has a strong accent(!) reader is more modern than alastor(!) black reader NOT CAJUN SHE IS NEW ORLEANIAN (!) mentions of gore and blood(!) fem reader(!) angst(!) grieving (!) fluff(!) comfort(!)

✰⋆⁺Im so sad that the only new orleans part of alastor we got to see was a few of his music preferences, and the overused dish jambalaya (as good as it is, its referenced too much when mentioning Louisiana and i sorta hate it-) soooo, as an artist i took matters into my own hands 😈 btw, this is long, so enjoy a piece of my culture!!!

fun fact: did you know that Louisiana has about 400 festivals and events annually? (my favs are strawberry fest, mardi gras, and crawfish fest) btw if anyone is struggling to read it: mardi gras is pronounced madi-grahs. (like ice spice grah 🤪🤪/jj)

✰⋆⁺ Oh what a joy!! Your love Alastor is in hell with you!!! After a whopping 58 years after Alastor's death at 33, with you dying barely at 88 before your birthday, you've finally have found your soulmate!! You're a bit different though, you have a stronger accent, and your tone is..."slangy". Times have changed, but has your love? Of course it does! Alastor couldn't love you more, lovers being apart for too long is straining to one's mental afterall.

"His sister's black, but she is sho'nuff pretty. Her skirt is short, but Lord her legs are sturdy. To walk to school, she's got to get up early. Her clothes are old, but never are they dirty. Living just enough, just enough for the city." You sang, walking along the streets of hell. That song by Stevie Wonder had always brought you comfort...

It gives you a sense of memory, deja vu if you will. Not that you could remember. But you being a young black girl, in the struggles of 1916 brings a comfort to your heart.

...

You closed all eight of your eyes, your afro bouncing as you walked. Walking walking walking. Your dark dress would lift up slightly from the ground, wisping away curiously.

It was pitch black, like your gloves that ran from the tips of your fingers, to the upper part of your arm. If you squint, one could see hints of clear web being shown by light.

People would question why you still wore black even years after your husband's death. Now in hell, you had black skin, and spider appendages on your stomach and hips. How ironic.

You still never answered the question.

Alastor had died at the young age of 33, leaving a 30 year old widow to mourn his passing. That man chiseled his way into your heart and croaked years later. All you could do to keep your emotions in check, was continue your dear husbands work.

The radio station he worked at had begged you to host his morning shows. The town was distraught of his absence. And there's a depression? People were sad, now even more broke, and at the hands of phoney mayors and presidents.

Alastor left a big hole in the role he had as the "Darling of New Orleans". And so did the Bayou Butcher...

What else could you do? Each life you blew off was in honor of your amazing husband. Soon radio was bigger than ever! You'd broadcast the annual 8 killings of casualty due to the new 'Wynoriffic Widow.' This had led on for about 20 years before old age came into play.

You killed 162 people in the name of your love. Never caught, yet never forgotten. You became a big shot, killer and announcer.

While you never had the intrusive thought to do so, you finally understood why Alastor felt a rush of righteousness when he came home after his activities with Mimzy.

Damn Mimzy, the hooch she is. (💀💀)

Let's be honest, the name "Widow" hit too close to home due to recent events, but thats why you only killed eight people per year! And to make things even better, you set 8 things that would happen. 8 games. 8 lines all connecting into a web. And to make things worse for the police, your extermination cravings were sporadic, and not so scheduled.

But it all played out the same.

Something subtle. like a box of rotting spiders at the victim's doorstep.

Next would be a missing, or perhaps "disappearing" passport and driver's license...if they could even afford one.

Now there would be 3 warning letters, the classic "i know what you did". Simple as that.

The second one would be more detailed. Writings of the person's actions would be made for a week before the last and final warning was made.

"Im coming" you wrote in squirrel blood, giggling everytime the person panicked, not knowing it was you all along.

Then nothing....for 2 weeks or so. To lower suspicion per say.

Then its the time to strike. Waiting until exactly midnight to knock out and drag your victim to the very same swamps your beloved died in. You'd take the damned soul, and torture them for as long as you pleased. No matter how many screams, how much blood, their life was in your hands and yours only.

Finally, you'd pray. Pray that this offering of love would suffice for being ripped apart for so long. and as for cleaning up your mess, you'd thank the gators and the wolves for "aiding" with your hobby.

But you began getting old, despite exercising regularly and eating the things your body needed. You couldn't go out and fufill your duties. The one thing that made you happy, second to Alastor. And soon enough you died, welcoming your new fate.

The only thing you questioned was your young appearance. You died of old age, so you didn't understand why you looked like you were 30 again.

You hummed, mimicking a trumpet as you continued your short strides. And here you are now! On the way to reunite with your love once more... it's been far too long.

Welp, it won't be long before you see your life again (despite being dead). Adjusting the big puffs and coils on your head, as well as smoothing down your dress, you knocked onto the hotel door.

Your smile was so big! (You cheeks were starting to hurt from subconsciously doing so much, trying to keep memory of something you once lost).

You looked around yourself as you waited. There was a golden fountain of a majestic dragon creature, with building itself huge yet comfortable. Despite the lights in the front being a bit bright, this place pleased something in your mind.

The door opened for you to see...a short blond man?

"Hello? Is this the Hazbin Hotel?"You asked, restraining and chaining the accent you had, not wanting to be perceived as "ghetto" for the first time.

"Why yes~ Welcome my dear, and what brings you to this place?" The half-pint of a man reached for your arm, kissing it three times before hooking your arm. Your face involuntarily scrunched a bit before coming back to that neutral smile you has once before.

"I would like to see the hotel manager. Alastor, correct?" You asked as the man who tried to pull you forward, even though his head barely surpassed your chest. And surprisingly, for his height i mean, he pulled you along easily.

The lobby was a plethora of shades in red accented with bits of gold, black, and white.

"ugh His office is near the top of the hotel or something Can't miss it. The place sorta looks like a swamp."

"Of course" you mumbled. Thinking about the greenery and fireflies Alastor would take you to see.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothin'!" You smiled, already make your way to the prolonged destination.

Thank god there was an elevator, or you would've screamed. If this place was lavish and beautifully decorated, yet no easy place of transportation for inclusivity, or simply to better convenience of the people living here...

Thought pisses you off.

Hearing the elevator dig, you adjusted yourself again before walking out and looking towards the hallways. Ah, you could see what he meant. While every other door looked like a basic hotel door, the one at the end of the hallway was covered in green glowing floorboards.

It made you tear up, knowing he still had some kind of connection to his home. The fireflies danced around the entrance, enticing you to walk quicker in those heels of yours.

Reaching the door made your body paralyze and vision blur for a second or two. You took a deep breath, and knocked 2 times with a pause, knocking 3 times slower.

It was something you and Alastor did to ensure that the police wasn't at the door, back when you weren't interested in killing.

You hear shuffling, then came a fall and a thump. You hear a woman exclaim in worry. With rushed footsteps came an open door, revealing the one you lost so long ago.

He looked much different, much more red ('to hide the blood' you giggled to yourself'). His skin was more gray than that toned brown, you look up to his head to see...

'is this mf wearing a bob?'

"Alastor! Are you alright?" A doll-like woman came out, in a red suit but the brightest aura.

"Love...?" He ignored her, his knees trembling slightly with his eyes watering.

Next thing you knew you were tackled to the wall, embraced with such longing, infatuation, and a whole new level of care.

"Hello sweetheart..." You combed through his hair, brushing over some antlers, making Alastor shiver in your hold. You smiled, embracing him back with a somber sigh.

"Soooo- The Dappa Demon gotta milf for his troubles?" A white and fluffy man in pink stroller over.

"Um Angel- I dont think now's the time for that-" The Doll woman tried.

"And who is you?" You asked, genuinely curious. Alastor was still hugging you, silent, which is disturbing for a man with a voice like his.

"Da name's Angel Dust sweetpie!" He smirked, looking you up and down. "Why you cuddlin' up to Raspberry Daddy(™) like that?"

"Well, Angel, this raspberry daddy is my husband!" You explained, watching the lanky spider (which you now noticed looked like a spider), blanch before guffawing.

The woman, who you keep on forgetting about, gasped with, which you really hoped wasn't, all of her chest and possibly lungs.

"ALASTOR HAS A WIFE!!! WOW! ITS SUPER NICE TO MEET YOU!!!" She bounced up and down, her blond hair flew up along with it. Speaking of, the short man has blond hair too... welp, aint non of yo business so- "MY NAME IS CHARLIE!! THIS IS THE HAZBIN HOTEL!! AND- AND-"

"Charlie, suga mallow, pause pause! Its nice to meet you too baby!!" You started, "Can we just talk about this, as well as the hotel, in a better setting?- I think doeball needs a moment"

You looked down at Alastor, seeing his ears pinned downwards as well as feeling a small damp puddle on your shoulder.

"Oh! um- okay!! That's completely fine!! Yea! Go do your husband, and uh, wife things!!" Charlie said, pushing you towards Alastor's office once more, prompting you to hold your husband bridal style. You would hate for him to have fallen.

"So we aren't gonna talk about how Alastor isn't an edgy inhuman prince of darkness, gifted to the immunity of normal mortal affection?" Angel asked, still in shock.

The door promptly shut. You looked around his office, which was more of a radio station with shelves and a desk. Everything was in tones of brown, red, and burgundy.

The only thing that set it apart was the glowing green floor, with pale green tree moss around the corners. You smiled as a group of fireflies flew past you two.

You walk towards the chair, sitting down with Alastor's body in your lap, head in your shoulders, like long ago.

You move your hands to his ear, running your fingers through his fur, as well as using your bottom row of arms to turn on the radio, sitting so silently on the desk.

Luckily, for the both of you, calming slow jazz was playing.

"You ready to talk now?" You whispered quietly. His ear twitched before he sat up.

"Yes dear..." He said, his voice barely carrying through the air.

"Well... I wanna start with- where'd you go-?...that night i mean."

The room went silent. You continued to rub his back, feeling his boney spine despite the layers of clothing he dubbed.

Soon words flowed out of him. Like a radio host.

The story he told was one of improv, one he hadn't expected to share for a long time. About his killings, the dogs, his last sight. How his last wish was to kiss you one the lips once more.

And once he finished you told yours.

How much grief you were in. The sudden bloodlust you took after you figured everything out. The way you played with the town's mind. How every body you took was in sacrifice for him. The hope that your love would one day be connected once more, never severed again by dimensions.

The night was filled with silent sobs of two deceased lovers.

In the brief morning, you two caught up with each other. Alastor still liked a lot of the same things he did in the past, but you have changed a lot.

You have an accent. Sometimes you'll replace the word 'are' with 'is' and other times you say 'ain't', or nickname drop people. And when you get angry the accent gets even stronger, humoring him to your irritated dismay.

You can cook now! Before Alastor died, he would cook for the both of you. You managed to burn an expensive pan he got from his mother, he never let you lay a hand on the stove ever again.

You also were more...modern. Luckily not to the point where you were addicted, but it still pissed off Alastor that you had some form of flat screen. You listened to rap occasionally, as well as musicals.

But yet, he couldn't judge you for these new qualities you have. You still have that lovey fro, your beautiful and plump lips, and the way your eyes flow across the room almost brings his rotting heart back to life.

Right now in the kitchen, you two were making beignets in coconut oil. As you rolled the dough out, Alastor questioned your uniqueness of cooking.

"Darling, must you stuff the pastries with dark chocolate? Wouldn't the powdered sugar be enough?"

"Don't worry Baby! m'Made these several times!" You replied. You grabbed the strainer, tossing the raw dough into the hot oil.

"And why coconut oil specifically?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes with a loving smile.

"Cuz! It makes it taste better! Not sure how to 'xplain it, but it just does." You flipped the beignets, ensuring they were golden brown before placing them on the brown paper.

"If you say so, my Dear."

You began to hum softly, to a jazz song you heard on the streets, swaying slowly as you worked. Your husband then held you from behind, swinging with you.

His head was buried in you neck, ears flicking with each tickle of your hair. His arms came underneath yours, holding and pressing your hips.

Plating the food, you set it down in favor of dancing with your love. Dancing to the silent song of adoration, fondness, and care.

Behind the kitchen door, which was slightly propped open, you could hear the excited ramblings of the hotel's owner, making Alastor groan quietly.

"WOW!! They're so cute!!! Omg, they are so sweet together!! EEEEK!!" Charlie exclaimed, struggling to keep her voice down. this made you chuckle sweetly, making the woman utter an apology before leaving.

This is all that you wished for. Your husband, loving and dancing with your soul again. Even if it took a couple of bluenoses to accept it. (cough cough Angel and Husk)

All you could think about were those bands, the trumpets, the parades, Alastor, the food and feel of your homeplace. All of it brang you back, and now you have even more to appreciate.

Dreams do come true, down in N'awleans. Even if it takes years to achieve it.

btw i gave her lore

thx to @sharkdukes on Ao3, i now headcannon that you can offer a soul to a demon, which is what reader was unknowingly doing. Which is half of the reason why Alastor is so powerful at the start in hell-

heavily inspired by @drowninnoodles 's Sugar and Sinnamon on ao3.

as well as @pheavampire for this hilarious art

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و tags: @kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @spongejuice @amorisbackandbetterthanever @cyb3r-st4r if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

as for the playlist, if you couldn't read bc of the font, its titled: Wynorrifcly Widowing. (ik i didn't spell it right stfu) Please lemme know if there are any places where i forgot to finish thoughts.

©KAL pls don't steal, repost, trace, or whatever an art theif does. you can inspire yourself! just tag me to let me know<3

#yagurlchip❤️ #yagurl writes #x reader #qpr? #i mean i tried #lemme know how i did on that part- #fluff #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x reader fluff #alastor fluff #asexual alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #ace reader #asexual reader #angst #bittersweet #reminiscing #Spotify #blood #gore #my art #artists on tumblr #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny was born as a Halfa

So! Jack and Maddie are a little More insane in this.

When studying Ghosts, they become convinced that the only way to defeat the Ghostly Threat is to make a Ghost of their own. One who will fight on their Side. And they do believe that a "Good Ghost" is Possible, but only if fused with a Human to balance out the "Inherent Evil".

So, when Maddie gets pregnant they take the opportunity to try and make one of these theoretical "Halfas" by testing on the Baby in the Womb.

Jazz if Born, and she is not a Halfa. She is merely an extremely Liminal Toddler, so Jack and Maddie consider the experiment a Failure. They raise Jazz as per usual, and then 2 years later Jack and Maddie try again.

They have Danny, and this time he is a True Halfa! They did it! Now all they have to do is turn the Baby into the perfect Weapon against Ghosts!

Danny is raised less like a Baby and more like a Weapon. His Parents still treat him well, and give him some amount of love, but there is never any doubt in his mind that his only purpose in Life is to be the perfect weapon against Ghosts.

The only person who really treats him like something more than a Weapon is Jazz, who likes to sneak into his Room and play with him when they parents are out of the House.

(Later addition: They also have Ellie as a Kid a few years later, but because they messed up the process she is not as Stable as Danny is. She is 4 years younger than he is)

Then, they day he had been preparing for his whole life comes. When he is 10, a Ghost manages to sneak through a Natural Portal into Amity Park, and the Fentons send him to go deal with it as his First Test Run.

But when he gets there, he doesn't find an Evil Ghost bent on killing everyone in town. He finds a Teenage Girl, with blue flaming Hair, crying to herself.

(Idk how long ago Ember died, so lets just assume she died around 6 years before Canon)

He doesn't attack immediately, and when the girl sees him she invites him to sit with her. Against his better judgement, he agrees and sits with her.

She talks to him for a bit, and eventually explained why she was crying. Apparently she only died a few weeks ago and had finally found her way back to the Living World, back home. But when she got there she found that nobody really cared about her Death.

She had died in a House Fire, and because she had spent her entire night waiting for her Boyfriend to show up for a Date, she was too tired to wake up in time to escape.

Her Parents had obviously mourned, but her supposed friends and her boyfriend had hardly cared. In fact, it turned out that her Boyfriend had stood her up because he was cheating on her. So she had run off into the Park and sat down to Cry about it, where Danny had found her.

And Danny is confused.

His entire life, he has heard that Ghosts are Non-Sentient Killing Machines. That they don't feel any emotion aside from Malice. That they aren't People.

But this Girl is as Human as anybody else he has ever known. Perhaps even More Human.

He decides to ignore The Fentons Orders, and lets her go back through the Portal she had come through.

When he gets Home, the Fentons are less than pleased. They are Livid in fact.

Their Perfect Weapon was a Failure after all! It's too much like a Ghost to ever side with the Humans! It's just another Spook!

And they know what to do with Spooks.

They lock him up in the Lab, and decide to cut him open Later to figure out what went wrong.

They'll be successful next time.

Thankfully, their jeers to Danny are heard by Jazz in the other Room, and she doesn't like this one bit. So that night, she takes Danny and Ellie with her and Runs away. They need to get out of Amity Park, out Illinois even. They run and run, sneaking onto Buses, hitchhiking, even jumping on Trains.

Eventually they end up in a place called Gotham City.

...

Ages at the end.

Jazz: 12

Danny: 10

Ellie: 6

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Danny is Born a Halfa #The Fentons are Bad Parents #The Fentons are even crazier #Jazz is a Liminal #Danny was born to be a Weapon #Ellie is Danny and Jazz's little sister #She was born a few years after Danny and was born with a Defect that makes her a bit more Unstable than Danny is #Not to the level of completely Liquifying #But she will begin to melt a little if she uses her powers for too long #Now which Character will find them? #A Bat? A Rouge? A Cop? A Civilian? #Maybe Jason? #Maybe Oswald? #Maybe the Commissioner? #Maybe Dr Thompkins? #Also Ember goes back to the Human Realm a few days later to visit her little friend and finds him missing #She overhears a pair of Angry Scientists talking about “turning that half abomination into a pile of spare parts” when they find him #She connects the dots #So now she is racing to find her little friend before those two Insane Scientists do

[mallowmaenad]

6'3" Underweight Trans Girl With Eyebags whose wearing an Oversized Black Sweater: I recently remembered all of my past lives. Most of it was spent as various plant life and fungi in the same twenty foot radius in a forest by a rural interstate route until a robin ate the seed containing my soul and flew to another forest where I reincarnated as her child. I would then die a tragic death at a young age to a local fox where I'd live a long life as her kit and eventually die of old age, I then spent several generations as various plant life and fungi in that forest which was eventually destroyed by industry.

I was a tree during that time and my plant fibers were processed to manufacture paper used to make a sticker placed on an orange whose peel was placed in a compost bin, eventually leading me to the dark yet decadent life of a worm until I then eventually expired and awoke as a tomato plant in the care of a kindly older woman, it is that life whose memories I treasure the most.

She was a very skilled and warm woman, and many of my cycles afterwards were spent as my own kin in generations of tomato plants in a blink of an eye. One day she took me into her car in a pot, I remember how she spoke to me. At the time she had named me Reynolds, she had set into a trend of naming me after Hollywood actors she found attractive. It was the day before her daughter's birthday and I was to be her gift, I could not feel bittersweet about this a the time, because I was a tomato plant.

She buckled me into the back seat of a car as if I was a child of her own and drove down a rural interstate route, illuminating the black sea of the night sky with her headlights as the shadows seemed to drown out anything but us. A deer with bone wasting disease stood in the road like a grim reaper, white eyes shining as her aching foot tried to react in time on the break peddle.

The two embraced in a bloody collision, I remember the deer in its last moments weakly nibbling at her flesh as they both bled out in an agony they were ignorant to, I wilted and died in that car along with her and that deer, I do not know what the journey of my soul was like, but my next life was as a patch of semi-feral grass on the side of a similar road caught in the mouth of a possum eating a partially full discarded box of Wendy's fries who was then promptly turned into road kill, when the day was new a burly Appalachian man whose stern demeanor hid a soft heart would legally and cleanly collect the cadaver and break it down, using the remains for a meal some yuppies would find ghastly. This man was my father- or rather my father in this cycle of life.

I know in my heart of hearts that you were that old woman who nurtured me so many times as her beloved tomato plants, you had the rare privilege to live your life as an incinerator at a crematorium, but the march of technology and nut after bolt you grew broken, a death by a thousand cuts, a death by a thousand bodies. Your massive metal cadaver was melted down over time, the raw materials eventually finding itself to a factory that manufactured bullets, a life of darkness in a cardboard prison only to be shunted into a pistol's magazine... your entire existence is interesting, stretching the meaning of what it means to be eaten and to live. The meek 24 year old boy thought nobody would mourn him when he was gone, you lived as an amorphous patch of greenery ahead of his grave stone.

A curious thing would happen during a visit to this boy's grave, his childhood dog either in embarrassing coincidence or a moment of sentience began to dig at where the body was, being wrenched back as it began to desperately sink his teeth into the soil, ripping you asunder. Almost as divine penance, you lived your next life as a member of this dog's litter, you'd be named after the boy, despite being a girl. Maybe the dog was given some precognition and wanted to eat the boy and take his soul into its mouth to get her the life she always wanted. You were unfortunately born with a chronic condition that led you to a young death, the girl's mother crying just as hard after the vet put you down. You were buried lovingly in her back yard where you became a tomato plant, your same mother not being as much of a green thumb as mine but she devoured your fruits all the same, eventually giving birth to another meek boy after growing pregnant during the time when your last tomato was picked off your wilted stem. I have pursued you since that day with my whole body and spirit, one part unintentional one part in this moment of enlightenment. I love you, and I will love you for the rest of forever.

Trans girl who dropped out of high school to make Hello Kitty breakcore who has her girlfriend's dick in her mouth and is high as fuck right now: Waash dat?

Their shared girlfriend sitting across from them playing Wario Land Shake It on her modded Wii U: Was I the deer with bone wasting disease?

6'3" Underweight Trans Girl: ... Yeah...

#long post #microfiction #cw car accident #cw death #cw dead animal #cw suicide

[cryptidghostgirl]

hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3

#x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #radio demon #radio demon x you #radio demon x reader #the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #wife!reader #Alastor x wife!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #x reader requests #x reader fanfic #requested #request #requests #x reader oneshot #x reader one shot #request one shot #one shot #oneshot #part two #cover up

[flamingpudding]

Part 3 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

<<1 Previous Next

Feral brother of mine

When Damien first saw the video from Todd's helmet he only thought of his older brother as an imbecile that apparently couldn't handle children that was until Drake paused the video on the child's face before the video cut off.

Then Richard pointed out the similarities to Damien and of course his first thought was that his mother had made another clone again that they would need to dispose of. That was until he took a closer look at the image when Drake zoomed in. It was still blurry but Damien would recognise that face anywhere and in any state.

Despite his memory being faded it was the face of someone he never wanted to forget and would let freely hunt his dreams. Even if it was to recall the good times or even the bad times through nightmares. Freckles that mirrored constellations and scar by the ear from a training session when the others' dodging ability had not yet been up to par when they were five. Hair longer than his own and less tameable.

Danyal Al Ghul.

His twin that he killed at the age of eight when their grandfather forced them into a fight to death. This was not a simple clone of Damien himself and the teen was pretty sure that his mother must have lost it. Because what else then a clone of his own brother could this be, she probably must have preserved some of Danyal's DNA if not his entire body for this. He must also applaud her cruelty, for the clone was at the exact age his brother had died at.

He does not know why nor how his mother had managed to cause glowing Lazarus green eyes. None of his clones had ever shown these before but a part of him didn't want to know. It already made him sick enough to know that his mother would go so far as to clone Danyal.

All he wanted was to get rid of this cruel clone that wore his long dead brother's face. The knowledge of his brother was something Damien held dear. It was something that belonged to him only and the burden of his death was not something he ever wanted to share either. Besides what use would it be to his family to mourn a member they never would have gotten to meet.

Even as he glared at Todd, who had let loose the feral clone. He could not bring himself to tell them that this was most likely not just a simple clone of himself.

"Come on guys, there is a child running around the Bat Cave. You can fight later about how to safely keep the boy in check."

Clicking his tongue he turned away from his older siblings and drew out his katana. "<tt> I will get rid of that thing myself."

A thing, that was what it was. Damien didn't need his personal feelings or his memories of a twin that could smile brighter than the desert sun despite their pain, get in the way of his rationality. He could not allow this mockery of his twin brother to live on.

He went for the darker areas of the Cave knowing the league trained mind and he was in luck as he was the first to find the feral child hidden away in the area that lead to the medbay. By now the thing was even armed. Damien recognised the dagger as one of his training once, he probably had accidentally left it out of its casing after training right before patrol.

The ex-league prodigy did not give the clone time to react as he attacked without warning. Chasing it through the Bat Cave as it avoided his attacks yet made no move to attack him the way it had Todd. At times the way it dodged made Damien stutter slightly something that never happened before. He slashed at it, ignoring his siblings that shouted for him to stop from the side lines. Ignoring the flashes in his mind of a fight years ago that was similar yet so different.

"I will not let this mockery run free." He muttered pointing his blade as it hissed at him in return. What a feral thing it was, he waited for it to make the first move this time. Clones were not perfect, their forms were lacking, They might retain skills of their original but they rarely were the same let alone cable of thinking outside of what their creator, his mother wanted. He pointedly ignored anything he new about certain clones. They weren't created by his mother, therefore did not count in regards to his conclusion. Yet it was painful seeing this mockery of his dead brother appearing like a perfect copy.

The stance it held with the dagger, despite the feral hissing and movements, it was the exact same his brother had. Sword stances, like martial arts stances had a basic form, every wielder learned and then developed further into their own unique one with time. Danyal had one where he tended to hold the dagger or even swords backwards in his left hand while his right arm covered his empty side with a slight tilt to the back, always ready to reach for any weapon he would carry in hidden pockets on his back.

It was painful to see this clone, this thing mimicking his brother's stand this perfectly. Damien could only narrow his eyes in determination, or was it desperation by now? This was just one more reason to get rid of it. It just hurt even more when with a quick gaze towards the hand that held the dagger Damien also noticed a bad habit his brother had always retained and the league had also never been able to train out of him. It was a small habit, unnoticeable if you wouldn't look for it, yet dangerous to the sword / dagger wielder if they were inexperienced.

Danyal tended to let his thumb rest against the guard if the blade had one or against the blade itself even if it didn't have one. He knows that his twin used to have scaring on his thumb from this habit, especially from their early training years.

This thing was even imitating his brother's habit.

He wanted it gone. Rip it apart and present it to his mother with all the anger and grief it brought to him.

"Guys stop Damien now! That is not a clone!" He heard Drake yell from where the Batcomputer was but he didn't care. This was a clone, so he lunged at the it again. Ignoring how the clone had studied him like he had it. Ignoring how its stance had changed the longer they had watched each other and how that thing let its guard down all of a sudden.

"Damien! Stop!"

It dropped all defenses and Damien could only see that as his chance to deal the final blow to get rid of it. But what he didn't expect despite the dropped defenses was for the clone to also just drop the dagger, close its eyes and smile. The same smile that still hunted his nightmares. His mind flashed back to eight years ago.

"Demon brat! Calm the fuck down!"

The blade stopped inches from the same fatal placement that had killed his brother before. Drake and Richard were right behind him while Todd was by the clone's side gripping at the blade with his bare hands, most likely bleeding already.

"Why?" Damien uttered quietly, his eyes trained on the thing. Richard must have thought that his question had been directed towards them stopping him but that wasn't the case.

"Look Dami, how about listening to what Tim found out first before we decide what to do with that child?"

"Not you." He couldn't help but snap back at them as he withdrew his katana, hearing Todd mutter something about sharp blades and bandaids as well as several curses under his breath. His eyes stayed on the thing. "Why would you let me kill you? Why drop your defence ces? Why not dodge?"

The thing titled its head its glowing green eyes were trained on Damien and he noticed how they flickered into a blue that was so familiar yet so different with the way they glowed. It made chirping noises before it whispered something.

"ahbak, Dami"

Damien froze for a moment there at the quiet words the thing had whispered. How was he supposed to react now? Was this even a clone, no he knew this was a clone. There was no way Danyal was alive let alone still eight years old. He had killed his own brother, he had held him in his own arms as Danyal took his final breath, smiling at him and uttering the same words he had just heard again after so many years.

Even if Danyal had survived somehow then he should be the same age as him. Not the age he had died at. Besides, their grandfather would have never allowed them to use the pits to revive his twin.

"FUCK!"

Intentionally or not Todd's outcry had ripped him out of his thoughts by a rather pathetic yowl of pain. It was like a switch had been flipped in the clone's mind as his brother had reached out to probably detain it again. The moment Todd had touched him, the thing had bitten into his hand before letting go, hissing and running away from them once more.

But instead of running after that thing Damien stood frozen in place, his mind still racing. He could feel Richard's hands on his shoulders, grounding the teenager with the warmth they provided. "You okay there Baby Bird? You seem rather out of it suddenly."

"<tt> I am fine." His only offered answer, ignoring the worried looks he was getting as he moved to wipe Todd's blood off his blade. He needed a distraction before his mind became any more chaotic and unreasonable. "What did Drake find out?"

"Right… you sure you want to hear that right now?" Giving Richard an unimpressed stare, the oldest sighed looking over towards Drake.

"Well I got good news and probably bad news." Side eyeing his brother Damien kept silent waiting for him to continue.

"I can safely say that the child is not a clone. His DNA does not 100% match yours. It differs too much but - and this is where it's probably bad news - it matches with you to 45%, with a matching to Bruce to about 50%, same with Talia. If I run a paternity test I am sure it would be a hit for Bruce and Talia."

Damien swallowed taking in that information, knowing what it meant. Was he horrified? Yes. Did it also awaken a strange sort of hope? Also, Yes.

"But there was a third compartment of the child's DNA structure which was impossible to test. It could even corrupt DNA samples if not taken apart from the rest. It probably has something to do with the green specs I found in his blood too. So I ran a substance analysis and - you probably won't like this - but it got a hit from a substance we have recorded in our database."

"What substance?" Damien knew, he just knew he wouldn't like the next words Drake would say. He could feel Richard squeezing his shoulder as if to help him keep stable.

"Lazarus Water. It matched with what we have recorded from the Lazarus Pits."

"Drake, are you telling me that after eight years, my mother who apparently had preserved my dead twin brother's body, dropped said body into the Lazarus Pits to revive him and then drop him off with Todd of all people?"

"Yes, wait… dead twin brother's body?"

#danny fenton #danny phantom #danny and damian are twins #de aged danny #dp x dc #feral danny #fanfic #damian wayne #jason todd #tim drake #richard grayson #dc x dp #unedited #crossover #no beta wie die like danny #he still only bites jason #I have no idea if I used ahbak correctly #still learning how to best blog fanfics here #dpxdc

[lovifie]

Immortal!Ghost x Reader that always comes back

The first time they met, they grew up together. Neighbours on their little village, since they met Simon felt this attraction towards her. Every second of the day, his mind was flooded with her.

She didn't feel it. A new soul, too anxious to experience, too eager to see, too impatient to learn.

In her first life, she died young, a tragic death that the whole village mourned. A young woman who curiously travelled inside the forest ignoring the threats behind the tree line.

Simon took it the hardest, they were supposed to go there together, but they argued about something so silly, and he stayed home while she perished.

But he never forgot her. And when he grew up, a grown man, travelling to close villages for his business, he felt the attraction again. Feeling mad at himself for breaking your trust, he waited for the woman to turn, as if ready to fault you for his reaction.

But he came face to face with you. Again. After so many years, there you were. He could feel the tears prick at his eyes, teasing to fall; and he felt as if he had been punched on his lungs the moment you looked back at him.

To Simon, he was looking at his old love, the one that never returned said love, that he lost so long ago. But to you, an older man, crying, was looking at you. So you quickly run back to your house, away from him.

Simon doesn't remember much of your second life, there are so many that blend together, at least those on which you didn't love him back. He hates those the most when he had to live through centuries of looking for you, finding you, watching you fall in love with somebody else and then, as always, die.

But sometimes, there are lives in which you would look back at him, with so much love in your eyes. Not as much as Simon, that would be impossible, Simon had a millennium's worth of love saved up inside his heart and you barely had a decade or two; still, you came second to the competition.

At some point, he stopped ageing, or at least it slowed down to the point it seems he stopped. He was relieved he did, keeping his image of 30-something Simon Riley. But it still added pressure to him; now on top of having to find you, there were lives where he needed to stay in the shadows, waiting for the woman he knew you were going to grow up to be.

He was patient, he needed to be, and he didn't mind waiting. At least, in those lives where you were not together, you keep meeting death at a young age. Always involving yourself with dangerous people or just plain old stupid. Not in the lives you were with him, you always died peacefully of old age in the lives you stayed together, impressed with how young he looked, and with him taking care of you until your last breath.

Having lived so many lives, some memories blend into each other and some simply get forgotten, but there are some he remembers as if they just happened.

Like when you first kissed him, or when you first said you loved him, when he first held you at night or when he almost messed it up once.

He thought you were ready to know the truth, that he knew you from many lives ago, that he was immortal and that you have died so many times he couldn't keep count. You almost left your home that night, only stopping after hearing him:

"Wait, you thought I was serious?" Simon laughed. "That's crazy, love. I was just playing, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He never tried it again.

In any of your lives did you have kids, he was selfish enough to keep you only for himself. But having a kid, knowing that he would outlive him, and at some point he would disappear to look for you again without being able to give an explanation. It was not the child's fault Simon was a selfish man. But he was patient.

In some lives, you would reappear close. On one live, he found you going out of his house, meeting you next door when you moved into the apartment next to his.

On other ones, you would reappear further away. On some, he wasn't even able to find you. He came face to face with you once when you stayed in Manchester for a while, only being there for work. You didn't even speak English in that life, not to worry, he quickly got to work on learning your language just so he could tell you how much he loved you in a language you would understand.

Now, he could almost speak every single language in the world, not wanting to risk wasting time, even though he was a patient man.

As you were reincarnated again and again, he noticed your personality change. In your earliest lives, you were so energetic, always looking for trouble, getting under his skin, ready to run around the world. As lives went on, you began to be calmer, preferring being a listener rather than a talker.

Simon didn't mind, of course, you always remained kind, gentle and as lovely as in your first life.

Simon was a patient man, he had waited for you so many many lives. Always finding you, always meeting you. You always came back.

You are taking your time on this occasion, but he doesn't worry. He is a patient man.

The original attraction is slowly growing weaker as time goes on, but he doesn't worry. You always come back.

He is starting to forget the last time he saw you, but he doesn't worry. He is a patient man.

You usually only take a couple of decades to come back, but this time is growing closer to a century. But he doesn't worry, you always come back.

Simon Riley is a patient man. And you have always come back.

Masterlist

Hii, how are you?

I got this idea today and needed to write it and post it before I forgot or regretted it. So I hope you guys like it 💗

I'm testing out the "permanent" taglist, I'm adding the link if you want to be included it is also on the masterlist.

P Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @Nothankyew @darkangel4121 @dumb12bvtch1212

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost imagine #simon ghost imagine #simon ghost x you

[thebubblesareevil]

Family is more than just a word. It means something…

After his “mortal” death, Chronos watched as his children lived their lives, causing chaos among the realms. He watched, and he mourned. He blamed himself, his actions towards his children as the cause of such tragedies. He watched as his children fought and killed, loved and hated, and eventually died. Some joined him in the infinite realms, their forms forever altered. For those who remained he watched… his granddaughter was still new when he first met her.

She was practicing skipping stones on a lake deep in the forest. She was angry that she was not allowed to train with the other warriors. She was too young, or so her mother claimed. After one particularly epic failure she was startled at the sound of laughter from the tree above her. She spun around, stone raised, ready to attack, she scanned the trees searching for the source… There! She threw the stone with all her strength. The blue figure did not move, only catching the stone in its hand before smiling at her.

“That’s quite an arm you’ve got there.” It said. She let out an angry growl.

“IDENTIFY YOURSELF!” She shouted, the intruder just sat there. It’s long purple cape draping down around it’s perch on the branch, it’s blue skin glowing from the light breaching the leaves. It tilted its head, to the side.

“What are you doing all the way out here, shouldn’t you be back home with the others?” She crossed her arms in a huff.

“I’m training of course, I’m going to a great warrior.” She froze for a moment before pointing an accusing finger towards the stranger. “You didn’t answer my question!” It laughed at her, further angering the young child. “What’s so funny?!” She asked stomping her foot.

“I don’t recall you ever asking a question my dear.” The child froze thinking for a moment, before her eyes widened and a slight blush of embarrassment covered her cheeks. She puffed up her cheeks and asked her question.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” The being hummed.

“Those are pretty big questions, for someone so small” the girl gave an indignant shout, ready to protest her size. The intruder looked her in the eye, two red orbs glowing with power. She froze.

“I think I will save the question of who I am for a later time. As for the reason I why I am here… I came to see you my dear.” The girl took a step back, one of the first lessons she was taught was when to fight and when to run. She didn’t think either would help in this instance as the intruder gently glided to the ground, it’s boots not making a sound as it stepped on the leaves below. She gulped.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I wish you no harm.” It made its way over to the waters edge before bending over to pick up a stone. “It only seemed like you might like some help, there’s a trick to a proper skip after all.” It threw the stone and her jaw dropped as it skipped its way to the other side of the lake.

“That was amazing! How did you do that?!” She looked up at the stranger in awe. It smiled gesturing a hand for her to come closer. The girl didn’t know how much time had passed, it felt like hours before she managed an impressive 7 skips before her stone sank. She let out a joyous laugh, hugging her stranger. It wrapped its arms around her, before whispering in her ear.

“I must go now, my dear. But I promise I will return, after all family sticks together.” She let go of her stranger intending to ask what they meant but they were gone. She frantically looked around for the being until she heard a shout.

“Diana! Come child! It’s time for lunch!” Diana looked around one more time before rushing to her mothers side.

“What we’re you doing out there darling?” Diana opened her mouth, intending to tell her mother all about the strange intruder. She stopped.

“Just skipping stones, I managed to get 7 whole skips!” Her mother smiled.

“That’s quite impressive, you’ll have to show me later on” Diana gave her mother a wide grin.

—————

Chronos watched as his granddaughter make her way back to her home with a sad smile upon his face. He knew what was in store for her, of the intense training in the coming years. She reminded him so much of her father. The smile slipped from his face. He would not let her story unfold as his did. There was little he could do without jeopardizing the future, but he would do what he could.

He won’t let her turn into a weapon. He won’t let her be used.

———-

Years passed before her stranger appeared again. Once more she was skipping stones on the lake, though she a bit bigger than she was last time.

Diana froze when she heard the sound of footsteps approach from behind. Diana sighed.

“I know what you are going to say sister, but I won’t take back my words. She Alcibie cheated and you know it.”

“Hmmm, those are rather bold accusations don’t you think?” Replied a voice, one from a memory long passed. She quickly spun around.

“You!… you’re real… I thought…” the intruder, a man, if you recalls her lessons correctly. She takes a fighting stance. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, you are an intruder, and you will identify yourself!” She commands, drawing the sword at her side.

The man tilts his head, completely ongoing the blade he makes his way to the edge of the lake. Just as before he bent down and picked up a stone. Diana growled in frustration.

“No games this time! Answer me!” He looked back.

“How can I answer you if you have not asked your question? Besides I think there is something else on your mind today.” Diana slowly lowered her blade with a huff.

“And what business is it of yours? My mind is my own. Tell me how you made it through the protections!”

“How indeed?” He said, tossing the stone across the lake, just as before. “Now what troubles you my dear?” Diana eased her stance, but did not lower her blade.

“What business is it of yours?” He shrugged.

“Curiosity, nothing more my dear.” He turned to face her “you can lower your blade. If I wished you harm, I would have done so when we met last, when you did not carry a blade” Diana huffed, lowering her blade. He handed her a stone, perfect for skipping.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, but it couldn’t be, as the sun barely moved. Eventually Diana grew frustrated and threw a stone so hard it flew to the middle of the lake, not once touching the water until it sank.

“She cheated” she stated “she cheated and she didn’t even hide it. Such an act is dishonorable for a warrior of themascyra.”

“Is that so?” He asked

“Of course!” She shot back “she knew she was going to lose and she took the cowards way out and cheated!” He calmly looked over at her, tilting his head just so. Diana blushed, embarrassed at her outburst.

“Is it so cowardly to do what it takes to live?” He looked towards the horizon “Have you been told the story of the mad titan?” Diana thought for a moment, nodding.

“The titan Kronos went mad with the knowledge that one of his children would kill him, to stop this he ate them. In the end he was outsmarted by Zeus and killed in the war against his children” She explained.

“But he cheated, didn’t he? He escaped the titans grasp because his mother fed her husband stones instead.” He said with a deep sadness in his voice “It was through trickery that he defeated the mad titan, doesn’t that make him a coward?” He asked. “He even had back up, don’t you think he should have fought his father one on one?”

“Of course not! But that’s completely different!”

“Is it?” He asked

“Of course! He was faced with impossible odds! Kronos was a titan!”

“I see, so trickery is allowed when faced with an opponent stronger than you.” He surmised.

“Exactly!” Diana paused “oh…but she wasn’t facing an impossible enemy, she was facing her student.”

“What was the purpose of this fight? Was it to test your skill? Or was it to teach you?” He asked.

“We fight everyday, it was just a normal spar, but this time she completely changed her approach. I had the upper hand and she…” Diana paused.

“And she increased the difficulty.” He smiled “Take heart my dear, it means you’re improving.” He looked up at the sky “I do believe our time is up, return to your teacher.” Diana nodded, she turned to head back before pausing.

“You never did tell me who you are.” She said as she turned back but once more he was gone. Suddenly she heard the sounds of the forest, she didn’t notice before… how quiet it was.

Diana tucked that information away, in the meantime she needed to apologize to her teacher.

——————-

And so it went that through the years whenever Diana’s frustrations grew too great, or she simply needed a moment away, she would go to the lake and skip stones with her friend. It was peaceful, until it wasn’t and one day when a man breached the shores of themascyra Diana learned the truth of her birth. She journeyed to the world of men and fell in love, in that time away from her mother, away from the pressures of the throne, she thought of her friend and she remembered.

He called her family… but he was not Zeus.

She began to think of every interaction they had, trying to find a clue as to his identity and the more she thought about it, only one thing came to mind.

No matter how long they talked, no matter how much time they spent at that lake, only moments passed when she returned.

She finally had her answer, she wished she didn’t.

So after they won the war Diana went out one night and found a lake. She sat down, and waited, it didn't take long. She felt foolish for not noticing it before... the sudden silence from the world around her any time he appeared. She sighed looking up at the moon as they sat in silence.

"So you finally have your answer." Diana nodded. "Speak your mind child."

"You are Kronos, father of the Gods, what do you want from me? I won't help you. I won't betray humanity to further your madness." He sighed.

"Long before I was father of the Gods I was time itself, Chronos, and in death I returned to my true form." He looks at Diana with a sad smile "Madness is a disease of the flesh, something I am distinctly lacking these days." As though to emphasize his point, his legs vanished, replaced by a wispy tail. "Before the madness took me I greatly desired to be a father, perhaps it was my greed that led me to you. A granddaughter, untainted my sins." Diana clenched her fists. Chronos frowned.

"I will leave if that is your desire, what I wanted from you was a family. That is not something that can be accomplished through force." Diana stood, turning to face the Titan.

"I don't know if I will ever trust you again, knowing what I do now. You have done me no harm in the years I have known you... I will not promise anything, all I ask is some time to think, and decide for myself what to believe." Chronos nodded in understanding.

"You have all the time in the universe, my dear." Diana smiled.

"Thank you Lord Chronos." she began to bow, only to be stopped.

"You have not bowed to me once in all the years you have known me, there is no sense in starting now." He gave her one last soft smile before he turned to leave. "Ah, before I forget. I go by the name Clockwork these days, a bit less alarming, don't you think?" He smirked. Before she could reply he was gone, time resuming it's flow.

Diana smirked. "Clockwork, huh? I like it."

To be Continued...

Part 2

#Diana prince #dp x dc #clockwork #wonderwoman #this is an absolute brainworm that grew too big to ignore #i love grandpa clockwork #probably gonna continue if i do I'll crosspost on ao3 #danny phantom #dc comics #dp Demi-god au

[fatuismooches]

Hello

I just saw your post with the fragile SO and honestly I loved it sooo much ❤️

Now I wanted to request kinda of a follow up. Like what if before you died you wrote them a letter, saying how much you love them and how they made your last days on earth so memorable and stuff like that. And they found it, like maybe a month or so after your death. How would they all react? (I'm specially curious of Capitano because you said you thought he would think that he killed you 😭)

I really love your writing and I plan to make more request in the future 👋

-🦎

♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐝 ♡

synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. But it seems that even such strong beings falter in the face of their lover's death, especially after they find a letter you left behind. Can be read as a part 2 to this.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: Hop on the angst train, everyone. This is the first completely angsty thing I've written, and probably one of my favorites + longest pieces. I hope you enjoy this sadness, anon...!

Pierro:

Pierro carried on. He went about his day, filing paperwork, assigning duties to new recruits. What could he do? There was no time to mourn. The entire Fatui depended on his guidance and orders. He couldn’t just drop everything to fully devote himself to grieving you. But everyone knew - in any spare moment he had, he was thinking about you. Thinking about how he used to be able to go home to you waiting for him. Thinking about the walks he took with you that were heartwarming despite the body-chilling temperature. Thinking about when you were alive.

It was another day when one of your maids came to him with a piece of paper. Of course, she was terrified at being in the presence of the Harbinger, but she presented a folded piece of paper to him, stating that she had found it while cleaning your room. Pierro hadn’t been in there for a while. He was consciously trying his best to avoid it, choosing to pick up work instead. He nodded and the maid quickly scurried out of the room. It was most likely a final memento from you. He should honor that, he thought as he took off his mask.

Dear Pierro,

Hello there, my love. I hope your day wasn’t too tiring. I know how you’re always swamped with your Fatui business and such. You’re the head Harbinger, you know! You should definitely abuse your power to get some more days off. You didn’t hear that from me though, not like I wanna keep you to myself or anything. Totally not because I’m dying to spend some more time with you before I quite literally die. 

You know, sometimes I wish I was a Fatui soldier just so that I could admire you from afar some more. Those recruits are damn lucky, getting to see you more than I do. I don’t mean to complain though. I’m still tremendously grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying the best moments of my life with you. Yeah, even when I made jokes you still had that stoic look on your face but it was still hilarious. I loved when you would wrap me in your coat and tell me stories about Khaenri’ah. Even when you weren’t here, I loved when these random recruits would be scurrying to my room every so often to deliver your handwritten notes. 

Truly, there’s no life I’d rather live than this one… minus the illness part though. I am sorry to make you shoulder another death, my dear, but I love you greatly. I will always be with you.

Quietly, Pierro put the paper down and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ever since the fall of his nation, his heart had long gone numb. He had tried to ignore the prickling of his heart after your death, but your letter was really rubbing it on. When was the last time mere words could stir up such emotion in him? He didn’t know. But he promised you, this would not be your final resting place. Pierro knew, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s promise, he would see you again.

Capitano:

Capitano wasn’t very photogenic. After all, all you saw was a helmet shrouding his face in darkness along with his pitch-black armor and clothes. But you had insisted on taking a variety of pictures with him, claiming that it kept you happy. It wasn’t until later on when he stumbled across a scrapbook, with pages covered in photos of the two of you together, that he understood why. Since then, he let you do as you please. The doctors said it was good for you to keep occupied by doing things you liked. And well, it was rather cute, with all the decorations and fancy tape you added. Capitano often found himself looking at it to see what you added when you weren’t around.

But ever since your death, he hadn’t looked at it since. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to control the emotions boiling up inside of him. If he looked at your smiling face again, the pain and regret would be too much to bear. But as the days passed by and he continued to think about you, he couldn’t help but flip open the scrapbook, revisiting the memories he made with you so long ago. He flipped until he found a envelope in the middle, causing him to perk up. It had been sealed perfectly, even stamped with one of his seals. Now, Capitano didn’t want to invade your privacy, but what was inside called to him too much, and he very carefully unsealed it with a knife. Inside was a piece of parchment, similar to the ones he used to send you letters.

My knight,

I’m writing this after you just left for an expedition. You’ve just fed me breakfast (a/d fa//ed, but it’s f/ne b/ca/se it w/s c/te.) (The ending part of the sentence has been erased, but it’s still a bit readable.) We took an early bath together, and you helped me choose a nice outfit for today. You dutifully assisted me with my medicine and tucked me back into bed for some rest. Lastly, you’ve just tenderly kissed me with all the love in the world, my favorite part of course.

It’s too bad that I won’t be able to receive any more of your kisses soon. I think the sickness is really catching up to me, haha. (There are some doodles of the two of you randomly drawn in the middle of the paper, with lots of hearts and stars and rainbows. Maybe you stopped because you didn’t know how to continue.) To be honest, I’ve asked the doctors not to tell you, and somehow, they’ve listened to me. I just don’t want you to worry about me. Somehow, for someone as menacingly looking as you, you worry a lot more than I thought (no offense, though.)

I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything, my love. You genuinely made my life so, so much better. Even towards the end, I can only feel happiness that I was able to share some of my life with someone so incredible. You aren’t a monster. You’re the man I love dearly, the one who many people look up to all the time. You did everything and more, which really warms my heart.

I’m saying this because I know how you are and I need to knock some sense into you before you start getting any crazy ideas. Please don’t beat yourself up. If I could choose my destiny, I’d rather choose to be sick and be with you rather than being healthy. I’d choose you again and again, over and over, my dear. I love you, truly.

Carefully folding the letter, he tucked it into the envelope again and resealed it. He snugly placed it back into the scrapbook and closed it, placing it back into the drawer where he usually kept it. Capitano was used to the grief and destruction that war brought. But he wasn’t used to it when love brought these feelings upon him. His heart still hurt - terribly so - but… your letter seems to have brought him some peace. You would forever be in his heart.

Columbina:

It had been a while since your death. By now, everyone had become accustomed to hearing her songs every day. It was a constant reminder of your passing. Oftentimes,  Columbina had begun to stay in your room longer than her own. You were gone, but something about your space soothed her soul a bit from all the grief she was going through. And she also liked to go through your stuff and remember different things about you.

There was a box that contained a compilation of the many songs and poems she gifted you, along with some that you created yourself with her help. Sometimes, she liked to go through the box and think about you, but she never had the time to inspect every piece. Until now, when she noticed that there was an unfamiliar piece of paper that she didn’t recognize. Columbina picked it up and began to read.

My lovely melody,

Lately, I’ve begun to sing more. I think you’ve inspired me. I hope you don’t mind me stealing that one song you like to hum the most. The only problem is that I don’t have enough stamina to sing for that long, and I think my voice is kind of off-key. But I promise I’m working on it! I’m not going to tell you yet because I want to surprise you with something nice, as a thank you for taking care of me for so long.

Actually, there’s another problem, and it’s that… (it seems that you wrote a lot of words here and then scratched them out; perhaps you were unsure how to word it) Well, I guess I don’t really know if I’ll live long enough to perform for you. It’s been kind of tough lately. But I’m going to persevere for you. Your poems have been helping a lot. We should make a book of them one day. And um, in the case that I don’t make it, I would like you to know how happy you made me.

I always got so giddy when I heard you humming down the hallway. Nothing felt better than when you would croon to me and massage my scalp and play with my hair. You are so comforting and sweet, and just - lots of things that would be too much to write. I always feel eternally fortunate that I was able to have a lover as amazing as you. You really did change my life. I love you very much, Columbina. Please don’t forget me.

Columbina’s usual smile had turned into a downward curve. Oh, how she wished she could hear you sing. Your usual voice and laugh had already been angelic to her, she knew your songs would be beautiful too. But you were no longer here. She would have really loved to hear your song. You would have been the best duet partner. But perhaps, you could hear her songs from the other world as she laid on your coffin once again.

Dottore:

Dottore hadn’t entered your room since your death. He was far too busy with his research and experimentation with resurrection. Mourn you? No, no, you weren’t going to be dead for long, after he finds the answer. You would be back in his arms soon enough. Both of you would be fine. That was, until no matter how hard he researched, he always seemed to hit a dead end. It was frustrating. He couldn’t believe it, but he was at the point where he willingly needed a couple of minutes to rest. Dottore headed to his room, but as he placed his hand on the doorknob, something stopped him and he looked over to the room next to his, yours. He silently walked over and opened your room, having not been in it for a while. The only reason you didn’t share a room was that his was very… bland, boring, not very comfortable, and not spacious enough for the medical equipment.

It was the same as he had left it, not bothering to change anything. You liked to decorate it, and he let you. Framed photos of the two of you were on the dresser, lights hung up around the room. It seemed to make you happy. But there was something he had not noticed before - a slip of paper sticking out from under the pillow. Dottore walked over and took off his mask - something he unconsciously tended to do when it was just the two of you - and opened the folded paper.

To Zandik,

I remember when you first took interest in me, looking at me up and down with your mask on, a wide smirk on your face. I knew my parents said they hired someone intelligent to cure me, but I sure didn’t expect it to be the second Harbinger. I think you already know this, but when I saw you, I was kinda scared for my life. And I was for a while, especially when you made me drink the most hellish concoctions and injected strange things into me. But long story short, I still fell in love with you somehow. Even though you were probably trying so hard just because you wanted to solve the mystery of my illness, I couldn’t help but think you were quite handsome when you focused on something so intensely. Your pointy teeth were the cutest. (The previous sentence has been erased but Dottore could still make it out. You were an idiot, he thinks.)

I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or skill… but I don’t think I’m going to make it, Dottore. I know you’ve been trying really, really hard (I was there the whole time, after all) to help cure me, but I think you know better than me about my condition. So yeah. I guess this is my goodbye… my parting letter.

I know you don’t care about anyone or anything really, but I hope you accept it when I say I genuinely enjoyed our time together. Yea, you were hella terrifying and a lot of scary stories drifted about you, but there was a lot of maniacal laughter and you rambling on about things I had no clue about, but I would always happily listen to you, Zandik. I would write more, but I don’t think you’re one for sappy words and stuff like that. So I’ll leave end it here. I love you very much.

His mouth was a straight thin line at the end of your letter. Dottore put his mask back on and tucked your letter into his coat. For once, he couldn’t blame someone for insulting his intelligence. He did fail, after all. But Dottore was no stranger to failure. Experimentation was a series of trials and errors, failures and successes. He swore to himself that you would not be a failure. Perhaps his journey to Sumeru, the land of wisdom, would grant him some more insight for your resurrection.

Pulcinella:

It was just after your funeral. Surprisingly, all the Harbingers had gathered too. It seemed like they had grown somewhat fond of you after Pulcinella introduced you to them, at least enough to attend your funeral. Pulcinella was grateful. He had spoken a few words in memory of you. He couldn’t keep everyone for long. They had other matters to attend to. But in his heart, he had a lot of dear words for you. 

Pulcinella sat down at his desk, deciding to do some paperwork to distract his mind. He pulled out the drawer to retrieve some items but he noticed a piece of paper stuffed to the back of it. He certainly had not put that there. He reached for it and opened it to read the contents.

Hey Papanella,

Do you like that nickname I came up with? I haven’t said it to you yet because I’m not sure how you’ll react. But I think it’s pretty cute. I haven’t said this out loud yet either but… um, I guess you’re like my dad to me. My own parents never cared much for me after my illness proved to be too much work, but you always treated me so kindly. So yeah. Thanks for being a father figure to me. Archons, this is kind of embarrassing.

I’m admitting this because I don’t know how much longer I have. I know you’re always encouraging me to keep living on, and I really do appreciate it. I’m sincerely trying my best, but I think my sickness has been getting worse. Ah, and thanks for introducing me to the Harbingers. They’re pretty scary but they’re kind of cool when you get to know them. Some of them are cute too. Please don’t tell them I said that. But really, for the longest time, I thought my life would amount to nothing, and that no one would remember me. But you proved me wrong. I truly enjoyed spending the last of my days doing old people stuff with you (just kidding of course!)

I’m going to ask you to tell me lots of more stories when I see you again. They really make my day. I like the ones about you in your youth the best. They’re the funniest. Anyway, I love you, gramps. Don’t miss me too much.

Pulcinella was old. He had seen things be built and broken down, people come and go. But he always hated it the most when he had to see youngsters go before he did. Especially innocent ones who had done nothing wrong. He just prayed, that whichever world you were in now, treated you better than this one did.

Scaramouche:

Ever since your death, the soldiers had been on the receiving end of Scaramouche’s insults even more. No longer were you here to hastily save them from his berating, much to their dismay.  They actually appreciated you for stopping Scaramouche from giving them another verbal (and sometimes even physical) beating. But now if he wasn’t yelling at someone, he was deathly silent, which was why even scarier than his words. Everyone knew they were forbidden from speaking about you in his presence.

When Scaramouche had to visit Inazuma for whatever reason, he always found himself walking towards your house. Once he had came across the Tenryou Commission moving your items out of your house, due to no one living there anymore and the want for someone else to buy it. Needless to say, he swiftly dealt with them and sent them on their way with rage. They had tried a few more times and he did not hold back, until later they stopped coming, apparently after the head shrine maiden gave an order on the behalf of the Shogun to leave the residence alone. Hmph.

He doesn’t know why he keeps coming here, the only thing that’s different is the new collection of dust on the dresser. But the want to see you again keeps calling him, only to leave Scaramouche sorely disappointed. He thinks he knows every nook and cranny of your house, that is until he walks on a floorboard that caves in and nearly makes him fall. He’s about to lose his temper until he sees a piece of paper hidden under the floor. The words die in his throat as he picks it up to inspect.

To my beloved Kunikuzushi,

As I write this, you’re probably yelling at some unfortunate Fatui soul and they’re all trembling in their boots. Haha, I wish I was there to see that. You should be nicer, you know. But it is kinda funny to see you mad. I hope you come back soon… it’s getting too quiet around here without your quips and remarks.

But I know as you read this, I’m no longer alive. Kuni, I… (There are wrinkled spots around this area, presumably from your tears.)

I love you, and I don’t want rage and hatred to consume you again. I’m sorry to make your heart bear such pain again. It may be fruitless to say this, but please don’t blame yourself… it was out of our control. Please know I enjoyed every moment with you, whether you were cursing at some guy who bumped into me, even when you teased me relentlessly, or silently crying in my arms about your fate. But my favorite part was your soft smiles which grew more frequent. You are loved very much by me too. I want to see you smile more, many more times before I- (The rest of the sentence was scribbled over with a pen, making it unreadable.)

I wish I didn’t have to depart so soon… I wish I was born someone else, someone more strong and healthier… if I was, would our story be different, Kuni? Perhaps we’ll meet again one day… hopefully, sooner rather than later, and maybe I won’t be the same as I am now, but…

Will you wait for me, Kunikuzushi?

Scaramouche hated when he cried. He felt weak, stupid, and disgusting, especially when you were there. And somehow, he couldn’t help but feel worse than that when he finished reading your letter. He was never favored by the Gods, having been betrayed by one already. It seemed as though he was always fated to be betrayed by people he cared about. But he knew deep down that you didn’t betray him, he did instead by not being able to protect and save you. In an effort to bury his despair, anger, and grief, he would wipe himself clean of foolish human emotions, ready to ascend to godhood with his creator’s Gnosis…

Arlecchino:

Arlecchino’s days had been exactly the same ever since your death. They were the same as before she had met you too. Bland. Boring. Dull. It was after your passing that she truly realized how much your presence had added some thrill and color into her life. Now they were empty. But she was used to that. She had felt that way for a long time.

Arlecchino didn’t do much in her room besides sleep. Her room wasn’t anything special, just the standard and rich master bedroom. That was, until you took it upon yourself to decorate it. She hadn’t bothered to change it despite the style being very much different from hers. Today she had come in briefly to retrieve some documents under her bed. But, there was a random piece of paper there, collected dust on top of it, most likely from being placed there a long time ago. Arlecchino opened the folded paper and was greeted with your handwriting.

To my sunshine,

I bet you’re wondering why the hell I chose “sunshine” of all names. Even I can admit that you are nothing like sunshine. But I wanted to spice things up a bit, and to be honest, you bring a lot of sunshine into my heart and dreary little life, despite your stone-cold face. So yeah! I don’t think I can call you that to your face though. It’d be too scary.

I didn’t tell you, but I’ve had some people ask me why I chose to stay with you despite my health being what it is. My answer is always very easy - I love you, Arlecchino. Plain and simple. They don’t know how you are with me (which I’m kinda glad for… I want to keep this side of you to myself; yes, I know I’m greedy.) The way your lips quirk up for a split second then always turn downwards because you don’t want anyone to see. The way your eyes soften for a bit when I tell a corny joke. Or when I do anything actually. Your facial expressions are pretty cute.

Ahem, moving on from that, I guess you can say that I’m not too scared to say these things because I might be leaving you soon. Not of my free will, of course. Rather, it seems like the time my illness is allowing me to live is limited. Hopefully, you don’t notice anything off about me. I don’t think I could explain all of this in person… 

But I am really thankful to you for sticking by my side for so long. Even though you don’t tell me, I know sometimes you lament about your lack of ability to be verbally and affectionately comforting. But I hope you know that I don’t really care about that. You are more than enough for me. You’ve done a lot more than you think. I’m forever appreciative, my dear.

Arlecchino was left speechless, the usual bite in her throat died down. As someone who had few kind words to say to others, having such sweetness directed at her was not something she was used to. But of course, a part of her wasn’t surprised, because the only person who’d utter such things was you. It pained her, and even the children who cried after your death, greatly. But whenever she needed a reminder of you, she would uncharacteristically gently trace her fingertips over the words of your letter.

La Signora:

Everyone knew to stay out of La Signora’s way after your death. She was cruel before, but your passing seemed to reignite all the flames of anguish and hatred she harbored deep inside her broken heart. Once again, her walls had been put up to be unbreakable.

Rosalyne had gifted you a lot of makeup and accessories. She liked to experiment on you and liked it when you tried it yourself too. You had kept everything in a nice big box so nothing would get lost. One day she felt drawn to it again. She knew she was missing you dearly again, and although opening it would just cause her heartache, she couldn’t help but pry it open to see how you kept it. But on top was a hastily folded letter, stained a bit by the surrounding makeup, tucked into a small compartment. She flipped it open and began to scan the contents.

My dearest Rosalyne,

Hello there, pretty lady. You know, that’s the first thing I thought when I saw you. Tall pretty lady. Did you know that? Now you do. Anyway, I was wondering - how many of your flame moths can you create at a time?? Can you make them form a heart or something? 

Haha, I’m sorry for beating around the bush. The truth is I don’t know how much longer I have left. No matter how much warmth your moths provide me, for some reason, I always feel the chill of death creeping up my spine…

I don’t mean to be your second heartbreak. I’m really sorry… you deserve so much better than that. But for what it’s worth, you made my life a lot better than it was before. I hadn’t had much confidence in myself because of my illness for a long time. But you, Rosalyne… you made me feel like an actual person, as strange as that sounds. I feel like, when I’m with you, you make me feel so loved and special. I’m far from it but I actually feel like royalty. And royalty is really a life worth living. I don’t even know how you did it, but thank you. My life is so, so much happier thanks to you.

Hopefully, I make it a lot longer after I’m writing this letter. Maybe the Gods could finally take pity on me and give me some kind of blessing so I can stay with you longer. But if anything happens, I really, truly love you, Rosalyne. (The end of the letter has an origami moth colored in and taped to it.)

Signora’s hand trembled as she finished your letter. Her heart had returned to being ice, but it felt like her whole body was being swallowed up in red-hot grief and anger. Signora would dedicate herself solely to the Tsaritsa’s noble dream. It was the only thing she could do now, with nothing else to do and no one left for her freezing heart to love. No one could ever hope to understand the grief and pain she’s been through. Perhaps, that was why when she stood in front of the Raiden Shogun’s sword, she did not feel much regret.

Pantalone:

Whenever Pantalone went out, he often found himself looking through the windows of many stores to view their products. It was almost an instinct to pull out a large sum of Mora to buy anything he thought you’d like. And he still did this, only that he stopped halfway every time when he remembered that you were no longer with him. And his heart felt painfully heavy once again, like how heavy his smile felt with the pressure to keep it up.

The silence of his office had become a norm once again, your joyful presence no longer around to brighten it up. Pantalone opted to drown himself in paperwork to ignore it. Actually, he never realized how much the tick of the grandfather clock bothered him until now. Usually, your voice was loud enough to hide it. He sighed and reached for the bottom drawer to get some new pens to sign the documents. But his eyes widened as he saw a paper clearly laid out there, addressed to him at the top. His heart beat quickened as he carefully picked it up and realized it was from you. It seemed like you had experimented with some fancy calligraphy pens he had gotten you a while ago. And you had also stolen every stamp you had from him and stamped all over the paper.

Darling,

Hello, my love. Sorry for all the random stamps. I wanted to see what they looked like. Why does the Fatui need so many different-shaped stamps? You should make one of us, actually. And do you see I’ve been practicing my cursive script? (Indeed, on the back on the paper, your name has been signed in different styles.) I’ve been trying to do my signature all fancy like you. Hopefully, I’m improving.

I am thinking to make you read me a bedtime story tonight. I found a new one that seemed pretty cute. It’s a commoner falling in love with a nobleman… a tale of forbidden romance. It seems to go fine, until the commoner s/cc/mbs to (It seems that you scratched off the rest of the sentence.) Actually, I won’t spoil the ending for you. But by the time you read this letter, we may have finished it already. I’m just going to abuse that pretty voice of yours as much as I can (kidding of course… but no joke. Have you tried some kind of service where you just read things to people? I think you’d make a lot of money from that. I sure would give all my life savings to you.)

I guess since I’m writing this, I should say another thing I’m thinking about. I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on. I’m trying my best because I don’t want to let you down. I know you’ve been trying your best, with all these fancy doctors and equipment, but um… yeah. But I should also say that I’m not regretful having spent my time with you. You made the last days of my life so relaxing, so stress-free, so… nice. I’m glad I don’t need to worry about anything with you. Let’s move on from this, actually.

I’m thinking of a lot of things, actually. I wonder what you made the chef prepare for us tonight. Mhm… I’m getting hungry. Will you feed me dessert again too? Hah, I’m going to miss thinking about such mundane things. Hmm, I think I can hear your voice down the hall, so I’ll wrap this up. I love you.

Pantalone gazed at your words forlornly, his mouth formed into a downwards line. He had never thought the loss of something besides Mora could squeeze his heart so painfully, but here you were, making his eyes sting once again. Blinking back any tears, he made sure to store your letter in a safe place. He made a note to visit your grave today. He’d bring your favorite snack too, and read you a story perhaps.

Sandrone:

It was almost ironic - the puppet master had become a puppet herself. She didn’t speak much to others anymore, choosing to lock herself up in her lab. A part of her debated making some kind of robot or doll replica of you. But it would never be the same. She wouldn’t feel your warmth, or your natural, free laugh. Nothing would be similar.

Sandrone had begun inspections on all of her created robots. It was a grueling process she had gotten used to, but she missed the chirping of your voice as she did so. She worked in silence, opening the compartment of one of them when she was caught off guard by a formerly white paper, caked in dust, inside. The only person who had access to her Automatons was you. So could it possibly be…?

My forever,

I’m actually writing this in the same room as you. You're too preoccupied with your robot building and engineering and all that stuff, so you don’t notice me rushing to write all of this. I’ll make this quick. Actually, it’s hard to concentrate when you look so pretty and intelligent. Ahh, I’m so lucky to have you with me.

I think you’re repairing one of your robots so it can lift us up and take us on a walk. I’m excited. Those are always so much fun. I know you aren’t a sappy person. But I want to make my feelings clear, since I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to watch you unscrew some bolts and hammer down the nails. I don’t need to say it outright, do I? We both know I’ve been getting worse. Neither of us wants to say it out loud, but it’s reality.

Before I go, let me make it clear, since I know you like being blunt. You are my everything. Seeing your cute little robots send me these cute little messages really made my day. I think you told me a long time ago that you didn’t care much about human emotions. I think that’s changed now. I love waking up to see that calm and content expression on your face and watching it become a bit more softer when you see me. You’re more human than you think, you know. Some people think that being cooped up in a lab with a Harbinger is not an ideal way to live. But I beg to differ. I would choose no other way to live as long as I’m with you, Sandrone.

I think you’re finished with your tinkering. I’m going to have one of the robots hide this paper in them. I think some of them like me better than you >:) I wonder how long it’ll be until you find it. Hopefully, you don’t find it too quickly because it’ll be awkward to explain this to you. Either way… I love you dearly, Sandrone.

Sandrone gently brushed off the dust on your letter. She wished she found it sooner. She didn’t know whether it was good or bad her heart was finally feeling some emotion again, but she was grateful to have some final parting words from you. Sandrone had a bubble of inspiration float up in her. She had a good idea of what she was going to build next.

Childe:

Childe had found it after he was cleaning out your apartment in Liyue. He wanted to bring all of your stuff to his home in Snezhnaya. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t throw any of your items away, even the random useless trinkets. Childe’s chest felt hollow as he opened the door to your residence. He expected to see your face brighten and eagerly pull yourself out of bed to hug him. He’d easily lift you off the floor and spin you around, drinking in your gleeful giggles as he pressed his lips to yours. But now it was just the creak of the floorboards as he walked in.

Childe had a memory connected to every piece of clothing that you had. That one he gifted to you for your birthday. Another he remembered twirling you around in on a picnic. One of his sweaters that he doesn't remember you stealing from him, mingled with your scent and his. Archons, his chest hurt so badly, but there was nothing he could do as he neatly placed your items in boxes, emptiness consuming him. He was finishing up the packing when a piece of paper folded in half fell out of one of your pants’ pockets. Childe picked it up and his eyes widened when he recognized your handwriting and his real name. Sitting down on your bed, he began to read.

To my one and only Ajax,

My greatest wish is that you’ll never find and read this letter because it means that we’re living our best lives. We’re happy, content, still deeply in love with each other… living in bliss. 

But if you’re reading this, then we probably didn’t go and do all of the cool and exciting things you wanted us to. I didn’t move to Sneznhnaya and I didn’t meet the rest of your family. We didn’t go travel to all the nations like you wanted to…

Heh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing the same sights you saw on your travels. The pretty bloom of Inazuma’s sakura trees, the beautiful snow-covered streets of Snezhnaya. Remember that time you asked me if I wanted to conquer the world with you? Of course, since I can’t ever say no to you, I accepted your proposition. But in my head, I couldn’t help but think that you should probably choose someone who can match your ability and someone who is act/a/ly g/i/g to b/ ali/e. (The previous words have been haphazardly erased, making it hard to make out.)

You know I… (The ink here has bled through the paper, most likely due to you stopping there for a good while.) I don’t even know what to say, I’m just sorry. I don’t wanna leave you, I wanna be by your side forever, wanna be attacked by your cuddles every day. But the only thing I can do now is to make sure you understand that I’m truly grateful for you. No one else has ever cared about me as much as you did. You never stopped believing in me and always smiled when I needed you. You made my feeble life worth living.

Please don’t be sad. Teucer and the rest of your siblings need you. I love you so very much…

He didn’t realize how hard he was digging his fingernails into his skin until he started bleeding through the paper. Childe had been through endless battles, and fought countless enemies, but no wound had ever burned as badly as his heart did right now. Even in the Abyss, he did not feel as bottomless of despair as he felt right now. He wanted to hold you again too, Childe thought. He wanted to kiss you all over and show you how much he loved you. But you were gone, and the letter just solidified it more. He laid down on your bed, hand covering his forehead as he stared blankly at your ceiling. Biting down on his lip hard, he tried to prevent tears from flowing again. He would just go back to being the Tsarista’s weapon again, drowning himself in battle and blood just to feel something after your death.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #capitano x reader #pantalone x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #pierro x reader #columbina x reader #arlecchino x reader #la signora x reader #sandrone x reader #il dottore x reader #tartaglia x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #genshin dottore #pantalone genshin #fragile reader <3

[miguelhugger2099]

A Knight's Oath

Summary: You're a princess in need of a personal guard after your father's passing. Miguel from the enemy kingdom, is assigned to become a spy that kills you. Next>>

Knight!Miguel x Princess!Reader, Enemies to Lovers(?), Angst, Fluff, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,005

Like any tale as old as time, history is never clean. Freedom is never gained through peace. It is violence, a necessary one at that, in order to get what you need. Even if it means becoming the villain to some and the hero to others.

Your father was no exception. As a young king, his father had died in battle protecting the kingdom during a famine. With its citizens crying for help and other countries trying to step on their kingdom, your father had picked up a sword and began to lead a slaughter in the name of freedom. With your mother at his side, she helped on the inside, providing jobs, and a sense of community for hope and pride of their heritage. It had been a long thirteen years of bloodshed, but ultimately, the king had successfully pushed back intruders and helped bring his kingdom back to life.

In the middle of the war, you had been born–a princess–a new era of hope and peace for the land. Your people had celebrated your birth with parades, art, music and dancing, while your parents always showed you off with pride. For the next couple of years, you had been raised to be kind, resilient and humble. You were still just a baby when it had ended, so you did not know the true extent of it. You did know there was a war where other countries had looked down upon you and despite the small size of your army, you had won. You knew your father did whatever he had to do to protect the faces of the common people and the future of your life so you never faulted him for it.

Unfortunately, your father passed just before you reached adulthood. An unknown illness and went in his sleep. Everyone had mourned the terrible loss of their protector and beloved king, father and husband. Despite his actions in war, he was always incredibly kind to his people and was a great role model of a man in your life. You took pride in the fact you were his flesh and blood and that would never change. So with honor and grace, you worked hard to follow in his footsteps to be a great leader.

Others, however, did not share the same feelings. In other stories, your father was the devil himself. A cruel king that had struck anyone who had gotten in his way, caused the downfall of armies and used wicked ways to poison and torture troops to his advantage. When word of his passing had spread, many had celebrated the death of the evil king and hoped all those who lived in his kingdom perished with him.

Miguel O’Hara was one who thought the same. He hated the king that had started a war and it killed his father, hated how the aftermath of it left his mother depressed and his family starving. His homeland was in shambles because of your father and for years, he prayed for a chance to help his own country in gaining revenge.

So, for years Miguel had worked his way up in the ranks of his homelands army. A protector of his people and a way to finally fight back if another war were to break out again. He not only trained hard for his home, but to also feed his family—his mother and little brother. He often worried about them but little Gabriel was always eager to help while Miguel was away. Always a kind soul, he was.

When rumors had gone out that his king had been planning on planting a spy and an assassination on the princess of the enemy land, Miguel’s interest had been piqued. He thought to himself, without an heir, that wicked kingdom would surely fall to its knees and get what they deserve.

Naturally, Miguel had been called in for an audience with the king. He bent down on one knee and bowed his head.

“My Lord.” He greeted.

The king’s slicked back white hair practically glinted in the sunlight where its rays were seeping through the tall windows of the throne room. “Stand, soldier.” His voice boomed.

Miguel stood back up, the metal of his knight armor clanking against each other and he rested his wrist on his sword by his side. The king spoke again. “My boy, you are the finest gem in our armed forces. Your victories are endless and you make all of us here proud.”

Miguel’s face didn’t move, still as ever and it only made the king’s grin curl up even more.

“Which is why I’ve assigned you a special mission,” Miguel took a deep breath. “As the princess of Etheria’s guard.”

Now that had made Miguel’s face scrunch up in disgust. “My Lord, forgive me but–” He quickly shut his mouth when the king raised his hand.

“You will portray yourself as one of them. Eat, sleep and breathe like them and gain a position of a knight in their castle,” He explained. “There are talks of the princess needing a personal guard. Once you have gained information and the trust of those lowlife scum, you are to kill her. Once she is dead, we will invade their land and finish what they started.”

Miguel let his words seep into his thoughts. To live amongst the people he’s loathed since the beginning? It was barbaric and humiliating.

But this was his chance. A chance at revenge. He was angered when the king had died before he could even get close. Now, with the opportunity of sticking a sword in his own daughter’s heart–Miguel felt that was an even better alternative.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by his king. “Do what you must to be as convincing as possible. Care for her, protect her, admire her, kill one of our own if need be– just make sure that no one expects a thing… Especially the princess.” Miguel stood up straighter, saluting the man in front.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Dismissed.”

A/N: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara imagine

[madcatlad]

Aaron Needs Friends

Having him be aloof and mysterious was cool for the first few adventures, but for the amount of time that Aaron was traveling with Aph he should have been making SOME sort of relationship with her squad. This man was present since BEFORE Garroth was lost to the Irene Dimension. Yet all anyone had to say about him was "I didn't know much about him" "he was a good man". The group didn't even need to know him all that well, or be super close. He didn't need to expose all his secrets or be particularly socialable. But you're telling me that during the span of time that Aaron was around the same people, all the time, risking their lives...and he didn't interact with them on a more personal level? He ONLY interacts with Aphmau. That just isn't human nature.

I vaguely remember multiple characters getting shamed or dismissed for being concerned about his intentions. But looking back that is completely valid! From Aph's perspective, Aaron is a good guy who had proved himself, and doesn't need to explain himself ever. From everyone else's perspective, he is a complete stranger, with vague intentions and questionable goals, who they have know for at least a year in close proximity but goes out of his way (quite literally every single time) to interact with NO ONE but Aphmau.

Suspicious Behavior. That or he seems rude. But their distrust of that kind of put out is not unbased. Especially when his past comes to light, yet he is still no more than a stranger, and shown to be purposefully secretive. Suspicious Behavior. But the cast is supposed to ignore all that because...? "He's a good guy" how would anyone else know that?

I mean he doesn't have to open up to them in great lengths and cry about his tragic life, but by time he died he should have had a surface level relationship with the main gang. More than never knowing jack about him as a person. Training/mentoring with Laurence, amicable acknowledgement with Garroth, maybe teasing flusterable Katelyn. A joke or two outside of Aphmau. Just any amount of relationship outside of Aphmau. Please.

Otherwise his mysteriousness becomes an archetype instead of characterization. And it became more of a hindrance to the story, especially later on.

Having Aaron never build relationships with anyone BUT Aphmau sets him aside in a way that is very odd. Aaron is essentially NOT a character, but a plot point. He only exists to advance the plot, add suspense, or subvert the plot. But he himself had no character- other than grief.

And it especially took away from the significance of his DEATH! When he died the only person really grieving HIM was Aphmau. Everyone was sad for HER. It made so Aph could be sad but - "oh nobody else understands my grief". While Aph was grieving nobody could really grieve with her. It isolated her in a way so jarring and disconnected from the story it felt more like a plot diversion than a plot point. And everyone just continued with their respective plots, yet the STORY had to come to a screeching HALT after Aaron's death because aph was mouring and she is quite literally OUR EYES.

There in lies the problem. NOBODY could mourn for Aaron, because he was a stranger. But HE DIED! He died without ever getting to grow or build new relationships as his story was clearly building up to do. HE DIED with no mourners! What kind of depressing precedent is that?!? "You don't need to grow past your grief, and build new relationships after great lost! You just need to be HOT and (somehow impregnate) the main character! Plot 😃".

What a Lackluster death for a character!! A main character!!! To be mourned by no one. It should have been Aaron's death that brought the story to a halt, the fact that they had lost HIM. Not that Aphmau had lost him.

Aaron's death should have affected the entire cast, or at least the main one who had traveled with him so long! Yet everyone else is allow to move on as they would because essentially they lost nothing.

Yeah, we were all sad when Aaron died as kids. Because Aphmau was sad (that scream was something else). And, yes, Aaron's death was sad. But imagine how devastating it would be if EVERYBODY knew him- to some capacity- if everyone mourned his passing. Imagine how much more significance it would bring to his SACRIFICE.

Aaron was a man with nothing to lose from DAY ONE. BUT HE STAYED THAT WAY! He never grew! What kind of sacrifice is it for a man with nothing to live for, no mortal ties, to sacrifice his life.

It dumbs down his death to in essence, achieve his ONLY goal in life: revenge, and make his girlfriend-not-girlfriend happy.

He A STRANGER. Not because HE necessarily wanted Garroth back, but because Aphmau wanted Garroth back. It doesn't work well. Aaron should have sacrificed himself for Garroth because HE wanted to, because HE cared for Garroth.

It objectified him in a sense. His decisions- his world revolves around Aphmau, and only her? (And Zane strangely enough). He has free will but his choices like agency, desire, depth. He's a means to and end, hardly a character. He experienced no growth, no change, no discomfort.

He only experienced pain and Aphmau. Tragic.

#minecraft diaries #mcd #aaron mcd #aaron lycan #aphblr #aphmau

[consistencynevermether]

The Garden of Heroes- Astarion X Reader

content- gn! tav x Astarion. angst (but kinda more bittersweet), with a good ending. sfw. cannon typical violence but nothing extreme. soooo many character deaths. Astarion and tav forever endgame im sorry to this man he will not be moving on

Summary: Astarion learns how to live on after you and the others are gone.

word count- 2.4k

Out of your party, Karlach was the first to die. It wasn’t unexpected that she would go first. She was always headstrong, rushing into battle and putting the safety of others before herself. She died a hero's death, and so she was honored as such. After all, your group had saved Baldur's gate, and not just from the mindflayers. Even after, your party continued to do great deeds of heroism across the sword coast. Sometimes all together as a group, and sometimes as individuals. Regardless, Karlach was a hero, and so when they buried her, they erected a statue in a beautiful plot of land outside of Baldur's gate, which they titled “The Garden of heroes”. A beautiful name but also a melancholy one. A reminder that her statue would not be the last one to be built in this grove. Losing Karlach, it was painful for everyone, Astarion included.

 But what really stuck with him was that garden's name. The promise it brought of more of his friends becoming just old statutes and legends. And of you, someone far more precious than a friend, becoming the same. 

Wyll was the second to go. Taken from you all far too soon, just like Karlach. And just like her, he died as he lived, honorably. Despite everything in life that tried to extinguish his spirit, nothing could. He was happy and kind and loyal till the end of his days. When his statue was put up next to Karlach’s, everyone grieved. But over time when your hearts all healed a little, Wyll’s proud, tall, beautiful statue made Karlachs look less lonely, like she had a friend now, and there was a certain comfort in that. But there would be no comfort for Astarion when the next statue would be built.

Because the next one was you. 

Tav. The great hero of the sword coast. Felled in battle. Your sacrifice had saved the world once again but left Astarion all alone. 

You died far before your time. How far? Were you an elf who still had hundreds of years ahead of them? Were you a half-orc who only had maybe 20 or 30 left? Regardless, it was too soon. Astarion had thought he’d have more time. More time to come to terms with you leaving him. That he would be allowed to let you go, not have you ripped from his embrace by this cruel twist of fate. 

And just like that, you were the 3rd statue in the Garden of Heroes. To everyone else that’s just how it was, another hero lost and life went on. But not for Astarion. The world seemed to stop for him. 

He knew it would happen one day. He probably told himself he would go on living even without you, that he wouldn’t waste his life mourning someone when he could still live. After all, he deserved that, he had been alive so long and yet had barely begun to truly live. Yet the gaping hole that you left behind in his heart could never be filled. 

Still, because of his experience with Cazador, he refused to let himself waste his freedom. Despite you being gone he didn’t want to stop living.

But he couldn’t bring himself to love again. Nobody could compare. No one’s laugh could make his heart flutter like yours, nobody’s kisses could be quite as sweet. You who loved him at his worst and showed him the light. You who reached out your hand to him, but ultimately let him become his own savior, letting it be his choice to be good. To feel good again. It was a tragedy that he had lost that love, something that made his world so much brighter. But he cherished the memories, and that made it easier to live on.

That is until the memories began to fade. 

He doesn't know when it started. It was definitely after Gale and Lazel had joined you in the garden. Shadowheart too probably. After all, they were all only human, Giyth, and half-elf, at most the oldest of them could have been Shadowheart at 200 years or so, and Astarion couldn’t ever forget you in such a short amount of time. 

He mourned all 3 of them of course, and Shadowheart’s lack of snark towards Astarion (which over the years had become just friendly banter) was missed. But it wasn’t the same as when he lost you. 

But after decades of them being laid to rest in the Garden of Heroes, he’d started to forget little details of his former party members. But he remembered every detail of you. He heard your voice in his dreams, imagined your smile as he daydreamed, and wore a piece of your jewelry as a reminder. Even though you weren’t here anymore, he honored you.

But as the years went on, it became… twisted. Some nights Astarion would wake up in a cold sweat, muttering to himself as he tried desperately to remember what color your eyes were. Every night his dreams of you became more fuzzy with time, and every morning he clinged a little harder to the little reminders of you. In the end, he was no longer honoring you, but instead clinging to a memory. He had promised himself, promised you that he would continue to live. Yet ever since you left he had just been alive. He was spiraling.

Why what happened next transpired isn't exactly clear to Astarion. Maybe it was you from beyond the grave, maybe it was some god your party had helped before, or maybe it was just dumb luck. But by whatever force, he was sought out by a young group of adventurers looking for help. 

They were inexperienced, reckless, and worked horribly together, which is exactly why they came seeking out one of the great heroes of the sword Coast, to help them. It was easy for Astarion to forget just how legendary he and his friends were. Don't get him wrong, he thought very highly of himself, but the way these inexperienced adventurers would look at him with wonder in their eyes whenever he mentioned your name, was…odd. On the one hand, it saddened him that you were nothing more than a mere legend now, but on the other, it gave him a strange sense of happiness knowing that your memory lived on, that even the people who didn't know you were influenced by you. And having a bunch of idiots to keep alive was strangely comforting. He often wondered if you had felt the same way when you had led the motley crew of tadpole-infected weirdos all those years ago, and it gave him a connection to you that made his heart ache, but in a good way. 

It kept those nightmares at bay and kept the loneliness from consuming him. It's what he needed, that human connection, to stand up on his own two feet and keep going. It would never be the same, he knew that. 

Sometimes, sitting around the campfire, eyes closed, he could almost feel like he was back there with you. The crackle and warmth of the fire, the overlapping voices in the background, the sound of the forest. Some things never changed, and sitting there, he could almost imagine you next to him, polishing some weapon next to him in the light of the campfire, its metallic glint bathing your features in warm orange. 

And when he opened his eyes and saw that you weren't there, and hadn't been for decades now, he was ok. The pain did not consume him, the sadness did not break him, and the hurt felt good in a way because it showed how much he was loved, and how hard he loved you back in return. 

Astarion wasn’t alone anymore. And he was able to truly live again. He imagined if you could see him now, you’d be quite proud. However, occasionally at night, his thoughts would wander to more than just imagining. In Faerun, there were many ways to speak with the deceased and even bring them back. But what stopped him was your last moments. Even now what you said was crystal clear, and would never fade no matter how many years went by, it echoed in his mind constantly:

“My only regret is leaving you behind.”

As much as it hurt to be alone, Astarion knew that you were satisfied with the life you lived. And loathe he was to admit it, deep down he always knew that if he suggested some way to make you immortal to stay with him, you would decline. You burned brightly and fast, it’s who you were. You lived your life the way you wanted to, and it wasn’t his right to drag you back up with him. He knew this. But it didn’t make the thought any less tempting. 

Whenever that temptation arose, he found solace in a bit of a strange place. Or more accurately, person. Halsin. Astarion and Halsin were never terribly close, the two just had quite different personalities. Not that there was any real bad blood, just never that closeness he felt with some of the others. But as the years went by, he and Halsin became the only two people left of the original group, and that caused them to share a few bittersweet bonding moments. 

Halsin was one of the few people Astarion could reminisce with. Not only that but someone who loved so freely yet lived so long the way Halsin did made him good at dealing with loss and grieving in a healthy way, something Astarion didn’t always excel at. So he frequently went to visit the Archdruid, and Halsin was always happy to see his old friend. After a while, they even started a tradition, once every 10 years the two of them would travel to the Garden of Heroes together. Not many words were spoken during those trips, but it meant a great deal to both of them. 

All too fast it seemed, the pair had visited the grove dozens of times. And every time Astarion couldn’t help but notice Halsin had more and more gray hair with each passing visit. Elves were long-living, but not immortal. Halsin would soon be gone from this world too. 

At this point, Astarion could handle the loss. He had learned to deal with the short lifespans of those around him, at this point the young heroes he had once traveled with after your passing were now seasoned, veteran warriors, or had passed themselves. It wouldn't be the loss of Halson that broke Astarion, it would be the fact that he would truly be the last of you all. 

After Halsin's passing, nobody knew enough about your group anymore to erect a statue of him in the garden. It had been centuries and you had faded from legend to myth. Ancient heroes of days gone past. So Astarion decided to take matters into his own hands and learned to carve stone. 

What? He was an immortal after all, he had eternity to perfect the craft. For decades he’d bring in stone slabs and practice carving, his reasoning being that no way in hell was he lugging around a Halsin-sized statue, but really your own statue looking over him gave him a sense of comfort. And when he had perfected carving stone, he sought other reasons to stay in the garden. After so many years it had become neglected and overgrown, so Astarion took it upon himself to take care of the place. 

After decades of staying in this garden turned to centuries, he began to become a legend in his own right. But not the heroic type you were known as. No, the tales people spun about him were quite depressing. He became known as the caretaker of the Garden of Heroes, and many theorized as to why he did this, spun many a dramatic and tragic tale to be told at the local bar or to gossip about with friends. He’d almost feel insulted, but he rarely left the garden anyway. Being there made him happy, and after so many centuries alive, that’s really what his main pursuit was now. Just happiness. It wasn’t truly living, not entirely. But he had done so much living, far more than even the longest-living elf had ever done, and he figured it was ok now. To just be happy was enough. 

There were rare times when he left the garden, when people came there asking for his help, or when there was a major threat to Baldur's gate, he would offer his aid. The centuries of living never seemed to dull his blade, and with everything he had seen and accomplished, there was no doubt Astarion was one of the most skilled people alive. He truly was a hero from ancient times. 

That’s probably why his death was even more legendary than yours. 

To lose a hero was tragic. But to lose someone who had lived for so long, known so much, seen so much, it was a different type of melancholy for the people of Faerun. Like they had lost an ancient protector. For someone who seemed mysterious, infallible, and all-knowing to fall was a scary thing in some ways. But it wasn’t also without honor.

The people of Baldur's Gate who lived during the time Astarion died probably had no idea why the garden was so important to him. But they did know it was important. So when he died saving Faerun, much like you had done oh so many centuries ago, they decided the most respectful thing to do was return his body to the garden to be laid to rest. Some even debated that he should have his own statue erected in the garden. Ultimately these people didn’t know the significance of this place, who stood here, and why Astarion cared for it, so they decided it would be best to simply return the body. Though later a statue of Astarion would be put up inside Balurs Gate, along with a plaque. maybe people would remember him a little longer than they had remembered you. But everyone fades to the sands of time eventually. Every legend is told one last time. 

Luckily for the rouge vampire spawn, his legend didn't end with his death. It ended when he opened his eyes a few moments later, a gentle touch awakening him. The feeling of fingers running through his curls, and he knew. He knew immediately. No matter how many centuries apart, he could never not recognize your touch. He didn't know where he was, where he ended up after death, but it truly didn't matter to him in this moment. Because wherever he was, you were there with him. After so many years of looking up at your statue, its face faded and details lost to time, he finally got to see the real thing again. He got to know the color of your eyes once more. And in Astarion’s book, that was the best ending he could have gotten.

#astarion fic #astarion romance #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion my beloved #astarion angst #astarion fanfic

[justabigassnerd]

Protective Friend

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 2,182

Warnings - physical violence, mentions of cheating, blood, angst, mentions of Goose, fluff

Summary - after someone picks on Bradley one too many times, you handle the situation and secretly impress your father

A/N - it's been a minute huh, y'all? I think I'm doing a bit better (no promises), so maybe I'll be uploading more fics. anyway I won't bore y'all with a long A/N so as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy

Growing up alongside the Bradshaw family, it was basically inevitable that you would become best friends with Bradley Bradshaw. After all, you’d practically known the family since birth with your dad working alongside your Uncle Goose and it had devastated you when Goose died, understanding the finality of it all even at a young age. After Goose passed you made even more of an effort to be a good friend to Bradley, doing your best to keep a smile on his face.

However, the kids at your school were not nearly as kind. They had found out that Goose had died one day during an activity in the build-up to the summer holidays where your teacher gave you the freedom to make Father’s Day cards to store somewhere safe until the day came and Bradley had innocently asked your teacher what he was supposed to do. When the teacher had crossed the room to crouch down alongside him to ask why he couldn’t write a card for his dad, some kids had overheard him saying that his dad was dead and apparently thought it was the funniest thing to them. The teasing started off light before it got worse, but you could tell it bothered Bradley all the same, especially given the sensitivity of the topic. You ended up telling your dad about the teasing and bullying and without hesitation, Maverick had gone straight to Carole to make sure she was aware as well. Carole, of course, wasted no time going to the principal and telling him about how he needs to be doing better in making sure the bullies get punished.

When the principal did nothing about it, nonchalantly saying he couldn’t control kids’ actions, Carole went and tracked down the parents of the kids who were picking on Bradley after you gave them their names. Once again, Carole reached a brick wall as when she spoke to the various parents of the kids, they just shrugged her off and said that both Bradley and Carole needed to stop being so sensitive over something that happened years ago and that a bit of friendly teasing wasn’t hurting anyone so according to them, Bradley simply had to man up and learn how to take a joke. It took everything within Carole not to slap anyone when she heard the same answer multiple times. Her son was being bullied and no one was doing anything about it when this was the time to step up and do something. She didn’t care if had been ten minutes or ten years since Goose’s passing, he was still Bradley’s father, and her son was allowed to mourn the loss he suffered.

When Carole next met up with Maverick and filled him in on what had happened, Maverick immediately offered to give it a try himself, more than willing to be assertive and to even drag Iceman into it if needed. Carole told Maverick not to worry about it, and that he probably wouldn’t get much further than she did, even with Iceman.

“Do you want me to sleep with their wives?” Maverick had jokingly suggested which resulted in Carole hiding her giggle as she lightly slapped Maverick on the shoulder.

“You wouldn’t dare.” She replied, continuing to laugh as Maverick shrugged jokingly.

“All I’m saying is I could give them the best night of their lives, end it then and there and then ruin their marriage. That’ll teach them for picking on Bradley.” Maverick says nonchalantly, leaning back against the sofa with a grin.

“Mav, I love you, but no you can’t ruin people’s marriages over this.” Carole says as Maverick holds his hands up in mock surrender, both of them chuckling lightly.

“It was a good idea though.”

A couple of days later, one Saturday morning, you managed to coerce Maverick into taking you to the local playground and when you asked if Bradley could come with you and so he walked you over to the house just down the road and asked Carole if Bradley wanted to come to the park with the two of you. Carole was of course extended an invitation to join you all, but she politely declined, saying she had housework she needed to do. Now with Bradley in tow, the three of you make your way to the park, entering the gated park and both of you immediately head over to the swings while Maverick sits himself on a bench just outside of the park, watching you play with a soft smile.

However, at the most crucial moment, Maverick found himself distracted by a pair of attractive women who smiled flirtatiously at him as they passed, deciding that since both you and Bradley were happily playing in the park, he had the perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation with them.

In the park, a boy that was in your grade named Johnny decided he wanted to pick on Bradley, calling over to him and once again picking on him for the fact his dad was dead the moment, he realised you had crossed the park to talk to another one of your friends.

“Stop it.” Bradley said firmly, standing from the swing and attempting to stand up for himself against the bullies.

“What are you going to do? Tell your dad?” Johnny said before eyeing the way Bradley’s hand clenched around something hanging on his chest.

“What’s that?” He then asked teasingly, eyes glinting with glee as Bradley took a step back, fist tightening around the dog tags that once belonged to his dad. With nothing more than a look exchanged between them, Johnny’s two friends put a hand on Bradley’s shoulders and forced him to the floor, while Johnny pried Bradley’s hand open and removed the precious dog tags from around his neck, inspecting them and chuckling to himself.

“Goose? What kind of stupid name is that?” Johnny says, reading the callsign displayed on the tags.

“Give them back!” Bradley cries out, attempting to get up and grab his dog tags but Johnny’s friends were quicker, forcing down on his shoulders harder to prevent him from moving.

Across the park, you had heard Bradley’s demand and so glanced over and immediately removed yourself from your conversation and immediately rushed over to Bradley’s defence, taking less than a second to realise what it was Johnny had stolen.

“Give it back, Johnny!” You say firmly, holding your hand out expectantly and gritting your teeth when Johnny just laughs in your face.

“And why would I do that?” He taunts, sniggering as he glances over at his friends who laugh too.

“Because you’re not going to like what I’m going to do next.”

Just as Maverick was bidding goodbye to the two women, making sure to give each of them a cheeky wink as they went, he turned to look back at the park and instead came face to face with a rageful-looking mother who had a boy alongside her who was holding a tissue up to his bleeding nose.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” The woman all but yells in Maverick’s face, barely giving him space to breathe, let alone process what she is saying.

“I’m sorry, what?” Maverick says, trying his best to calm the tension. He had recognised the kid instantly; you had pointed him out to your dad one afternoon when you had first told him about the bullying.

“Your brat of a daughter punched my sweet Johnny for no reason! I can’t believe you’d raise a child to think that’s okay.” The mother says, glaring at Maverick who takes a moment to glance over at you where you were crouching down alongside Bradley, clearly talking to him before taking a moment to look over at your dad with a worried expression.

“y/n wouldn’t hit someone.” Maverick says, getting up from the bench to be more level with the woman.

“She punched him!” She repeats, even louder and begins to get looks from people surrounding them.

“Okay, okay, cool your jets. I’ll speak to her.” Maverick says, waving his hand dismissively before crossing to the park gate, opening it and catching your eye before gesturing you over and waiting patiently for you to approach.

“Hi, dad.” You mumble, glancing down at your shoes to avoid looking Maverick in the eye.

“Hey squirt. So, I heard you punched that Johnny kid. Want to tell me what happened?” Maverick says, crouching down to be at your level and gently encouraging you to look at him. You mumbled something in response but none of it was audible to him.

“You gotta speak up kiddo.” Maverick encourages gently, reaching out and resting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing lightly, silently promising you he wouldn’t get upset.

“He took Uncle Goose’s dog tags from Bradley.” You say, a little louder so that Maverick can hear you. Upon hearing the reason you had lashed out; Maverick knew he couldn’t be mad at you at all, but he also knew he had to try and dissuade you from using violence in the future.

“Okay, sweetheart, you can’t punch people. I understand why you did it but if you’re ever in a situation like this, you come and get me, Carole, Ice, whoever. We’ll sort it out. I’m sure you did try but make sure you use your words. Punching people isn’t okay, no matter what it is they do.” Maverick says softly, watching as you carefully take in his words, nodding softly.

“Yes, daddy.” You say before Maverick gently pulls you into a hug.

“Go and grab Bradley and get ready to head back home. I’ll speak to Johnny’s mother.” Maverick says quietly before releasing you from the hug, letting you go over to Bradley then standing up and heading back over to Johnny and his mother.

“I didn’t see you disciplining your daughter. How do you know she won’t do it again?” Johnny’s mother says firmly, gripping her son’s shoulder and pulling him closer to emphasise the injury.

“I spoke to her, and she knows it’s wrong. But she did tell me that your son took something that was special to not only Bradley, but his family and my family too. And when your son clearly refused to give it back, she did what she thought she had to do. She won’t do it again, but I won’t say she wasn’t justified.” Maverick explains, folding his arms across his chest and raising an eyebrow as he anticipates her freakout.

“She hurt my son and you’re saying it’s justified?” The shock and horror was painted all over her face as she yelled at Maverick.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say she wasn’t justified in what she did. Your kid stole something special from Bradley and has been bullying him for a while. You have refused to teach your kid better so no I will not punish her for standing up for her friend.” Maverick says firmly, deciding then and there that the conversation is over and turning to find you and Bradley.

“Come on you two, we’re heading home!” Maverick calls over to you and Bradley and when you and Bradley rush over to him, he wraps an arm around each of your shoulders and ushers you away from the woman and her son and begins the walk home. First, you drop Bradley off at his house, both of you greeting Carole as she opens the door. Just before Bradley heads inside, and while Maverick is explaining what happened earlier to Carole, Bradley turns to face you with a small smile.

“Thank you for getting my dog tags back.” Bradley says softly, making you smile before hugging Bradley.

“You don’t need to thank me.” You insist gently, squeezing Bradley softly before releasing him from the hug and letting him head inside with Carole while Maverick wraps an arm around your shoulders and encourages you to head home with him.

When you make it home, Maverick guides you into the living room and asks you to stay put while he grabs you an icepack. He soon returns with an icepack in hand, sitting down alongside you and taking the hand you had punched Johnny with and placing the icepack on the knuckles, biting back a frown when you wince slightly.

“This should help with any swelling.” Maverick says tenderly, his voice quiet as he lets you hold the icepack in place.

“Are you mad at me?” You question quietly, eyes fixed on the icepack to avoid looking at your dad.

“No sweetheart, I’m not mad. I do wish you had handled it a little differently, but I can’t be mad at you for standing up for Bradley.” Maverick admits, watching as you finally get the courage to look up at him.

“I wish I didn’t punch him. But it was satisfying.” You say quietly, a shy smile covering your face as Maverick lets out a soft chuckle before carefully pulling you into a hug.

“Well between me and you. I think he had it coming.”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell x daughter!reader #maverick x reader #maverick x daughter!reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x daughter!reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell #pete 'maverick' mitchell x reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

[shittygaypornmagazine]

I know that I'm supposed to be working on chapter 6 of The Future Left Behind but there was a Cass Apocalyptic Series update today and I had to cry a little so here we are:

Donatello Hamato knew that death was no big deal.

It was a natural biological process which brought every person aware of it to the easy conclusion that everyone and everything died at some point. Dad, Cassandra, the others… They all died, yes, but it was fine. Of course, it was. It’s not like he thought about it almost every day, mourning them and their lives more than he knew them. No, of course he didn’t. That’s not what they would’ve wanted him to do. Well, maybe except for Cassandra. She would enjoy a lifelong mourning for herself. Even though Donnie never understood that.

Never – until now.

Until it was finally time for him to think about it too.

Donatello Hamato knew that he is going to die.

He couldn’t change it. Couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t delay it. He knew. He tried. He tried so many things in the quiet of his lab, but none succeeded. None of them got any results. None of them did anything. He didn’t do anything. And now it was too late. Too many responsibilities, too little time. Too many Krangs too few defence mechanisms and artillery. Too many words and not enough air to say all of them. Too many turtle piles that will be incomplete. Too many lives will be broken. Too many evenings will be spent in dark silence…

Too many things that he will miss.

Donatello Hamato was sure his family will win the war.

Not him. Not the Krang. Not any other survivors group. His family. He knew that they were the last and only hope of this planet. He knew that if there was anyone he could count on, it was them. Raph, Leo, Mikey, April, Draxum, Casey… He knew that they will be fine. They will be okay. Maybe they’ll hurt, maybe they’ll lose a limb or two. But they will survive. They’ll stay alive. They’ll carry on. He wasn’t as important as they pictured him to be: he could easily be replaced by a quantum computer! Not like he had one, of course, but he could build one.

Back in the day.

Maybe.

He wanted to, for a long time now.

But apparently, that was not a dream he could fulfill.

Donatello Hamato wanted to be remembered.

He didn’t say it, but he was sure everyone knew. His desire to get a Nobel prize, to be in a history book, to put his name on everything and anything… Everyone knew why he did it. Because he was scared of being forgotten. Because he was scared that once he will leave this planet, everything he did will too. He wanted to be irreplaceable. And now it seemed his main problem. Why didn’t he build a program that would be accessible to others? Why didn’t he give everyone a password? Why didn’t he think about this possibility? Why did no one tell him to wake up and stop feeling immortal? What if he suddenly died in battle instead of slowly decaying as he did now, having a limited, but still significant amount of time to prepare everyone for his passing?!

Donatello Hamato felt himself being placed in Raph’s metal hands, a soft blanket and the warmth of Mikey’s magic wrapped around him, just like all of his brothers’ arms.

Donatello Hamato stared into the space before him, slowly feeling his chest getting tighter.

Donatello Hamato tried bringing his fingers together into a fist to try and hold on to Mikey’s cloak and Leo’s scarf.

Donatello Hamato couldn’t move.

And after a couple of seconds, Donatello Hamato was gone.

@somerandomdudelmao I just wanted to say that I am a huge fan and I absolutely love the way you show emotions through your comics. like I can't explain it but the absolute pain in that one last frame was AHKGKFJSJFJKDHKFKFK.

#cass apocalyptic series #hyperfixated on rottmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #peepaw multiverse #rottmnt bad future #rottmnt bad timeline #rottmnt future donnie #rottmnt future donatello #future donnie #future donatello

[amiti-art]

ToA Headcanon

At same point during Apollo's trials (or after them) Hera and Leto reconciled.

I think that best moment for that is after Jason's death.

After Hera saw how her husband did nothing to save his own son, her own chosen one. After she saw how little he cared for his life. How when she cried and grived, he sat at his throne unmoved and unbotherd, annoyed by her tears.

How he did nothing when Apollo, his godly son, his fellow Olympian, tried to kill himself so his friends, demigods, could live.

That was Hera's breaking point. When she finally admitted to herself that her anger was always misplaced. It was not her husband's bastard children she should hate but Zeus himself. She always knew that, deep down in her cold, broken heart. But it was easier to go after weak mortal women, nymphs or minor godesses. It was easier to go after defenseless innocent children who didn't asked to be born.

She was always doing that because she could not go against her husband, her king.

The same way Apollo went after cyclops when it was Zeus who killed Asclepius, Apollo's beloved child, because it was easier, safer.

So Hera, heartbroken after Jason's death, haunted by image of Apollo lying on the floor, bleading to death with an arrow in his chest, went to see Leto.

Because Leto would understand her pain as she was also suffering. Because Leto needed comfort as much as Hera did. Because they were friends once, before the Twins were born. Because Hera after over 4000 years finally understood that she had to apologize.

And maybe Leto wasn't ready to forgive her yet, but when she saw queen's pained face she knew that no one could understand her better right now, so she let her stay by her side for moment. One mother greaving the child that was wasn't even hers and one mother who could lost hers at any moment now, both longing for comfort when the father of both sons sat unbotherd on his throne while his childern were suffering and dying.

Maybe I'm giving Hera to much credit here but those 2 scenes she had in ToN are so heartbreaking to me. Come on, how many gods openly cries and mourns for their children? And Jason wasn't even hers. Nor is Apollo, but she was the one to tell everyone to shut tf up when they started to discuss who could become an Olympian in his place after he dies.

#I wrote it as a platonic friendship but it could also be Hera x Leto enemies to lovers slow burn 130k+ words #Hera's gonna be Apollo's stepmother one way or another #hera #apollo #leto #zeus #jason grace #trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa #headcanon #lester papadopoulos #rick riordan #riordanverse #greek gods #apollogists #asclepius #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus

[cemeteryspider]

Ballet on the Bayou Pt. 4

Alastor x Ballerina! Reader

Summary: Who lives, who dies, who tells your story ig...

Trigger Warnings: Violence, grief, mourning, death, and drug use

Word Count: 1156

Previous | Next

Ballet on the Bayou Masterlist

"Blah, blah, blah, blah. This is boring stuff. I thought you would have done something interesting by now" Angel practically yelled at the pair.

"I am getting there, Angel Dust, context is important" Alastor said to get Angel to stop talking.

"Yes, Angel the good part is coming, I promise dear" Your finger brushed up against Angel Dust's cheek to get him to look at Alastor again.

"Fine but this better be worth it toots" Alastor's eye twitched and his smile lessened just a little, but the little laugh you let out was enough to make him calm down again.

"Now where was I? Yes!"

~~~

You had recently gotten the plaster off of your foot and you were on a long road to recovery. Your dream had not fully died yet, and you thought of other ways you could reenter the dance world. You could be a choreographer, direct a ballet, or be a stage manager. None of these options felt right for you, so you kept looking.

You often walked with Alastor to his job and went to some stores. Then you would go home to be with his mother for the day. Cook, clean, listen to music, whatever she wanted to do. Then you would go meet Alastor outside the radio station, and walk home together.

Somedays this was just too much to bear, and you would end up in bed with as many pillows stacked under your foot as you could have. Those days Alastor worried, but as time wore on those days were few and far between.

As a few months passed since your injury you thought more about getting a job. Even just a couple days of the week out of the house would do you good. Talking to other people and making friends was something you longed for since you left home.

So you spoke to Alastor about getting a job.

"Why, Cher, I make enough money to support us. Stay home be comfortable"

"Al, I want to dance again, maybe not like I was, but I think I want to teach" Your eyes softened as you looked at him. This was not a spur of the moment decision. When he looked into your eyes, he knew you had been thinking about this for a while.

"Do not push yourself too hard, Cher, I couldn't bear to see you get hurt again" He pulled you close and rested his chin on your head.

The next day you went to the nearest dance studio and asked if they would let you teach a class.

~~~

Soon enough you were teaching children how to dance. It gave you hope for the future, however, after one long day at the studio you came into an empty house. No smell of dinner, and Alastor on the couch with his head in his hands.

As you got closer you could hear the silent sobs coming from him.

"She's gone, mon cherie, she's gone"

He never gave you the full details but you knew for the past few weeks she had been extremely ill. Everyday you left for work, you would ask her if she needed you to stay. She always smiled and told you to go.

The next few months were ones of extreme mourning. Alastor dragged himself out of bed for work, used all his energy there, and then came home to collapse in bed.

Although you might say that you weren't helpful, Alastor called you the light in his darkest days.That the one good thing that happened in his life, saved him. You saved him.

Unfortunately, the killing that had miraculously stopped a year prior had mysteriously started again. This put you on edge, but as more time went on and more people went missing, Alastor got better. Although to you it was coincidence it was in fact correlation.

~~~

"Wait, how did you not know he was a murderer?" Angel Dust interrupted Alastor once more, and Alastors antlers grew longer for a moment then retracted when he looked at your patient face.

"I only saw what I wanted to see, Angel, to me he was perfect in every way. He still is despite, you know, everything"

"I still don't understand why you're here though? I mean you taught kids to dance, here that makes you practically a saint" Again a small laugh emanated for your lips.

"That's coming, Angel, just listen"

~~~

One day Alastor was waiting for you to come home. He was going to surprise you by going to the new upscale fancy restaurant in town. However, just before he went out to look for you, a police-man knocked on the door.

On your way home a car had struck you. Either you hadn't seen it or you froze, but the car had hit you and you died on impact. Alastor didn't quite believe what he was hearing and collapsed.

~~~

However, you were greeted at the pearly gates. That's where you waited for your love to come and find you. When you looked in the mirror you saw your Odette costume. A beautiful tutu and white pointe shoes. Not only that but a gorgeous pair of white wings had sprouted from your back. Once this would have made your heart swell with happiness. However, you couldn’t enjoy it without Alastor by your side. 

After many years you were finally informed of his whereabouts.

He went a little crazy after you died. He killed more and more. He made more mistakes and got even sloppier. Until the fateful day of his death. He died a couple of years after you. Bullet to the head from a hunter that mistook him for a deer.

The day of his death, he was put in Hell. No second thoughts about it. He had killed many, and would kill many more to gain power in Hell. Somehow when he arrived he could feel you weren't there. He knew deep down you didn't deserve to be there rotting in Hell with him.

You argued with the angel council.

"It must be a mistake. He had only ever been good to me, and to his mother. Please, why is he down there"

They had told me what he'd done. What he'd done before he met you, while he knew you, after you had died, and how he had died. In that moment, you forgave him. Not a moment of doubt crossed your mind.

The council was horrified. You were put on trial. They even waited. Try to see if you would change your mind. Come to your senses. See the light again.

You were cast out. You were no longer naive. You were no longer innocent. You were fully aware the man you loved was a monster. Yet you wanted to be with him anyway.

Casting you out was a curse, the worst form of punishment.

To you, it was a miracle. You would get to see him again. 

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbinhotel

[blues824]

How about Female ubuyashiki in the remarried empress.

👩‍🦯A ill noble woman who is known for her heat of gold and motherly figure for most nobes they all call her mother in a respected manner.

🌸Her being there for navier when she is having difficulty with rattrash and sovieshit and calming her down even staying a couple of months in the eastern empire.

👩‍🦯How would everyone react to her slowly dying of her illness but she doesn't care about it she cares more about others than her health and always treats people with respect.

🌸imagine kosiar being her husband and how caring he is about his lovely wife and them already having children because they never know when she dies so her children whoud be there for kosiar when she passes away .

👩‍🦯The children don't have the same illness as their mother so they will have a normal life unlike their mother so kosiar whoud not have to worry about them dying before he does.

🌸How would everyone react to kosiar being a father of twins (spoilers navier get pregnant with twins later in the Nov ) and that the children are absolutely angels like the mother.

👩‍🦯Imagen the twin children of the female ubuyashiki and kosiar hanging around navier and them being more behaved than rattrash and them being loved by everyone.

🌸Imagen rattrash trying to spread rumours about her because she thinks she is a easy target because of her personality and illness only for people to get mad at her.

👩‍🦯Imagen rattrash pushing her and trying to make herself the victim only for people to help her up and ask her if she okay glaring at rattrash and people wanting her to apologise for pushing her even sovieshit can't do anything but to say she needs to apologise.

🌸She has always a person guiding her because of her losing her eyesight and loves to walk in the gardens to enjoy the beauty of natures.

👩‍🦯Her training crows to speak and sending a few to navier and the crows singing happy birthday to the and Queen and the crows vibing.

🌸What whoud be there reaction is she died because of her illness and seeing all the nobles morning her death and sending there regards to kosiar.

(I don't know why but that crow in the picture is so adorable)

Preface: You are a part of the nobility who is loved by all because of your motherly attitude towards everyone. You are married to Kosair, which makes you Navier and Sovieshu’s sister-in-law. Your children, one boy and one girl, are the perfect mixture of you and Kosair.

Sovieshu

He also considered you a ‘motherly’ figure, as you always offered him guidance in both political and personal matters. His earliest memories consist of him leading you through the palace gardens as he told you about problems he was having in his daily lessons. Needless to say, you were very close.

Even when he took on Rashta as a mistress, you gently asked him if he thought that he made the best choice for the Empire. You did not discriminate, even when he made mistakes, and that’s what he appreciated (and no, he did not harbor romantic feelings for you). Even after you were wed to Kosair and had children, the closeness between you two was not severed. He still went to you for advice. 

He was originally going to name one of your children the Crowned Heir of the throne if he and Navier did not conceive, but Rashta was pregnant so that threw a wrench in his plans. Still, you harbored no resentment. You even congratulated him on the news (although, you knew that it wasn’t his).

However, he also knew of your sickness. That was mainly why he had to lead you through the gardens, since the illness left you blind. He was aware that you wouldn’t live long, as your family was often cursed. It was typically thought that when you take the last name of another man, your illness would be cured but you chose to keep your last name. Your children had the name of Trovi, though.

When you inevitably passed away, it was the first time that everyone in the Empire gathered together to mourn. Even some people from different Kingdoms and Empires attended the funeral procession. Tears ran down Sovieshu’s face, and he held his wife to comfort her. Your spirit, before ascending, was happy to see that the Emperor and Empress came together for one final time.

Rashta

You were the first person to make her feel welcomed into the palace, and she appreciated it. However, she realized that since you were loved by everyone, both high-ranking and not, ruining your reputation would do good for her because all of the negative attention wouldn’t be on her anymore. Plus, you knew that the baby wasn’t Sovieshu’s. You had told her that you didn’t judge, but she felt threatened.

She invited you for a walk in the garden, and you accepted as long as she would guide you through. An odd request, but she agreed. Within the garden, she led you to the center, where she pushed you to the ground and screamed. A guard heard and went to investigate, only to find you on the ground. Rashta tried to say that you had tried to attack her, but the guard told her that you were blind.

That guard reported it to the Emperor, and he was angry at his mistress for daring to harm his ‘mother’ and try to paint herself as the victim. However, you argued that you weren’t terribly hurt, and maybe just got a bit of a scratch at the most. Thus, the punishment should fit the crime.

Of course, the fact that you were blind caught your attention. So, she asked a servant to bring her to see you, and you gladly accepted her into your chambers. There, you opened the conversation with ‘What is wrong, my child?’ She didn’t know how to beat around the bush, so she directly asked how you became blind. You smiled before giving her a painfully honest answer. It made her tear up a bit, to be honest.

When you passed, she did not attend the funeral procession. She was advised by the Emperor as well as Duke Ergi not to, as the people were still angry at her for hurting you even though that was. However, once you were buried, she placed a single white tulip upon your grave. She has been told that it would be best, as it is a symbol of an apology.

Navier

Since you were her sister-in-law, it was no wonder that you both were very close together. She too seeked out your wise counsel when she went through times of despair. It was a surprise to no one that a lot of the nobility had given you the honorary title of ‘mother to all’. She often leads you through the gardens whenever she is troubled about something, and your conversations always leave her mind at peace.

Your twins were her niece and nephew, and she loved them dearly. They were quiet and kind, just like you, but they weren’t afraid to stand up for the people that they love, just like Kosair. Navier loved it whenever she heard them yell her name and she would kneel down to hug them. She was happy that they did not inherit your disease, as that meant that she would only lose one person that was important to her.

Speaking of your illness, she also knew of it, and she saw how you pushed through it day after day. There were times where you couldn’t get out of bed without major assistance, which did make her uncharacteristically upset. She could tell that your twins and her brother were silently suffering at seeing you sick and weak.

She was definitely angry when she heard that you had been pushed to the ground by the mistress, but she was surprised to see you arguing that you weren’t hurt badly and thus any punishment given to Rashta should be light. But, she was not going to argue against you, as you always knew best.

When you passed away, she stood with her older brother and her niece and nephew as she cried. It was raining that day, and black umbrellas as well as black attire under a sky of rain clouds were all that could be seen. Sovieshu surprised her by wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and she let a few tears fall. She swore that she could feel your spirit next to her.

Every year, for her birthday, the same crows that you trained would come and sing her Happy Birthday.

Heinrey

He had first met you at the ball, and he could see that you were basically like a mother to all of the noble families. So, he chose to get to know you since you were a motherly figure to Navier. Almost immediately, you both were sitting down as you listened to the problems that he was having.

This is where he accidentally lets it slip that he is the bird that keeps visiting Navier, and you smile as you say that you can’t see anything, so you can’t say anything. Heinrey had noticed that you weren’t looking at him throughout the whole conversation, so now he realizes that you are blind. Your husband, Kosair, actually led you everywhere.

During his visit at the palace, your husband brought your children to see Navier, which was the first time that the Prince got to see them as well. From what he could tell, they looked like Kosair but acted like you. They seemed to not have inherited your curse as well.

Unfortunately, he was not informed about your declining health, as it was deemed to be untimely since his brother was on his deathbed as well. So, when he inherited the crown of the Western Kingdom and went to visit Navier, he was wondering where you had gone. Unfortunately, the wound was still fresh when he asked Her Imperial Majesty.

It felt like he actually lost his mother all over again. He mourned, and he did not take the grief well. However, your last words to him were in a letter, and they were to make the Empress happy. So, he would do that to the best of his ability because it’s what you would have wanted. 

Kosair

You both first met when you were children. Sure, you both were betrothed to one another considering it was believed that if you got your husband’s last name then you were exempt from the curse, but he still loved you with all his heart. However, for some unknown reason, you stuck with your original name. As sad as it made him, he did not argue against your choice.

The twins that you had given birth to were his entire world aside from you. His daughter and son had him wrapped around their fingers. He never told you this, but he was glad that you chose to give them his name, Trovi, instead of Ubuyashiki. But, you were still suffering from the curse, so he believed that it was his job as your husband to help you.

He loved leading you through the garden that you both had grown because it was a symbol of how you built a life together through the struggles. You loved that he cared about you so much, and it was always a wholesome moment. Eventually, your children would inherit the Manor and the garden, and you hoped that they would continue to help it thrive once you had inevitably passed.

Unfortunately, your health had deteriorated to the point where you were bedridden. Kosair held your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it as he spent as much time as he could by your side. Your children cuddled up next to you, which made you smile. Your crows were perched on the window sill, letting out sad cries.

Then, you passed away peacefully in your sleep. Because you were loved by everyone in the Empire, your funeral procession was one that would be typically for the Imperial Family. Everyone, aside from Rashta, attended. Kosair and your children as well as Sovieshu and Navier stood front and center as the High Priest said some words over your casket. Once the casket was covered with dirt, your husband placed your wedding ring within the dirt so that it would be buried with you.

#remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #the remarried empress #remarried empress x reader #sovieshu vict x reader #sovieshu vict #emperor sovieshu #sovieshu x reader #sovieshu #rashta x reader #rashta #navier trovi x reader #empress navier #navier trovi #navier x reader #navier #heinrey lazlo #heinrey alles lazlo x reader #heinrey alles lazlo #heinrey x reader #heinrey #heinrey lazlo x reader #kosair trovi x reader #kosair x reader #kosair trovi #kosair