#this is really interesting to know though…makes sense as to why if that’s the case
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May 11 | Prompt: Secret
It’s no secret. Well, okay, maybe to most it’s a secret. But to John, it isn’t.
It’s no secret Sherlock likes the name love. Or darling. Or really, any other pet name John gives him when intimate.
John has always been fond of pet names. In previous relationships, he’s used it casually and his girlfriends seemed to be keen on it. Sherlock, however, has a reaction John would have never guessed.
John discovers it when they first get together. Days after their confession, they’re practically inseparable. After a long and tiring case, Sherlock is just about to lay on John’s chest like he always does on afternoons like this when John says, “Actually, love, you mind handing me my book that’s on my chair?”
And Sherlock stops dead in his tracks. Dead. John wonders if he’s okay, if he’s even capable of breathing. He stares at John, his cheeks flushing crimson. Once he regains his mental stability, he nods and goes to the other end of the room to get John’s book. John’s still eyeing him with concern when Sherlock comes back to hand him the hardcover.
“You alright?” John asks.
Sherlock nods curtly. “Yes, fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Do I not look it?”
John huffs a laugh. “No, you look…fine. Just…” John nods his head in a gesture. “Come lay down,” he suggests, not liking Sherlock so far away.
Sherlock seems to calm at the request and he practically pounces atop John, nuzzling his face into the blogger’s neck with a long sigh. John holds a grin as he props the book on Sherlock’s back, pretending to read. But in truth, he’s thinking of Sherlock’s reaction, silently pleased with his new discovery.
He decides to experiment. While Sherlock is sitting on one of the high chairs at the kitchen table, inspecting whatever form of scientific specimen he’s interested in at the moment through his microscope, John comes toward him and soothes a hand down his back. Sherlock doesn’t have an outward reaction, but John can sense the shiver that crawls through him.
“I really am quite busy, John,” Sherlock says, not looking up.
“Mm, sorry, darling. Missed you, is all.”
And that’s when Sherlock freezes. Everything goes still. Usually, Sherlock would respond with a scolding statement to not be so sentimental and that they’d just gone out for lunch at Angelos. But he doesn’t say anything, only peers up and looks John in the eye. John grins, squeezing the back of his neck fondly.
“But I won’t disturb you,” John says, and he catches the look of disappointment in Sherlock’s eyes. “Was gonna go down to Tescos anyway.”
Sherlock nods dumbly.
John pecks a kiss to the limp detective’s lips, then heads off with a winning smile. That’s interesting.
The third time is the final conclusion. Though, it isn’t as fun. Frankly, John has been careful with this use of pet names, just in case he finds a time when Sherlock truly doesn’t like it. But this situation proves the point that any time is a good time.
Sherlock has just had an outburst in front of all members of Lestrade’s group. Anderson ticked him off by saying something idiotic, as always, but it was during the brink of a case. A case that Sherlock can’t wrap his head around and is losing himself quickly to. Sherlock stormed off to the break room, ignoring the stares. Lestrade gave John a nod to follow him and after sending a deadly glare to Anderson, John did.
John finds him pacing, hands on his hips, and muttering to himself. When Sherlock sees John, he waves a hand.
“Go away, I don’t want to talk,” Sherlock sneers.
“You don’t have to,” John says. “I’m just here to check on you.”
“This is stupid,” Sherlock hisses, continuing to pace. “Anderson always knows how to open his mouth and say something that’s equivalent to a meaningless pit. He doesn’t know what he’s blabbering about, and I can–will, I will solve this case.”
“Sherlock–”
“It’s ridiculous how brainless he can be, and he acts like he is capable of making valid points when he only knows how to spit out jabs. He acts like he can solve a case when he’s proved his idiocy numerous times.”
“Sherlock.”
“I will solve this,” Sherlock repeats, voice cracking. “I’ve already planned out the potential coordinates of where the perpetrator may be, and I want to see the look on Anderson’s face when I–”
“Love.” John doesn’t know when he stepped forward to get into Sherlock’s line of touch, but he does and he cups the detective’s face to calm him. Sherlock stops his rant and clicks his mouth shut, staring at John with wide eyes. “Take deep breaths. Follow my breathing, hm?”
Sherlock does, and John sees his chest moving up and down in slower movements.
“Just focus on me,” John whispers, bringing Sherlock close and rubbing his thumbs across his cheekbones. “Don’t waste your time on him when you have me here.” John sighs, running a finger over Sherlock’s bottom lip. Sherlock’s eyes turn glassy. “You are the most brilliant man I know,” he continues. “You’re right. Everything Anderson says is absolute bullshit. So, I don’t want you worrying about whatever he says, do you hear me? You are intelligent and smarter than everyone in this building combined and you will solve this case with a leveled head.”
Sherlock’s jaw juts, and he releases a shaky breath through his nose. “But what if I don’t? What if–”
“None of that,” John interrupts. “Sherlock, you will solve this. And I will help you and make sure you eat and rest, because my god, you’ve been all over the place for the past week and I’ve had enough of it. We’re going home and I’m taking you to bed.” John leans up to kiss him softly, not giving a damn if the break room door is open. This is necessary. When John pulls away, their breaths intertwine. “I don’t like seeing you so overstimulated, darling. And you know I leave you to your work, but this has gone too far. I won’t let it get this far again, I promise.”
“John–”
“No,” John says softly. “Let me take care of you.”
Sherlock seems hesitant, but John can see it in his eyes that he wants it, he wants to be taken care of because, for some bizarre reason, no one has done it properly before. That’s going to stop.
“Alright,” Sherlock whispers.
“Okay,” John agrees. He takes his hand. “Let’s go out the back.”
Once they’re home, John does as he says. He makes sure Sherlock changes into pajamas and he cuddles up to John in bed. Even if John knows he won’t sleep properly (he simply can’t when a case is going on), he at least holds Sherlock tight, allowing him to slip in and out of consciousness.
It’s not a secret any longer that Sherlock likes the names. Not just the names but the caring part, too. He likes this new feeling of adoration that John gives, the odd sensation of feeling relaxed in his lover’s arms as he’s stressing about every little thing in the world. And John is more than happy to provide strong embraces and reassuring kisses and occasional pet names when needed if it means that Sherlock can finally get the full experience of what it’s like to be loved.
Prompt by @calaisreno !!
Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @7-percent @itsonlytext @chinike @peanitbear @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @dw91165 @jolieblack @cortina @kettykika78 @johnlockbbc
(Please let me know if you do or don't want to be tagged!)
Those eyes...yeah, see? They're in love. It's no secret!
#johnlock#sherlock#bbc sherlock#johnlock fanfiction#writerscommunity#ao3 writer#sherlock fandom#ao3#john watson#sherlock and john#sherlock bbc#sherlock x john#sherlock holmes#pet names#john watson is fine#dr john watson
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TD Alenoah AU, where Noah came from a messed up family like Alejandro did... When Noah was a kid, Noah's parents became divorced and Noah's mother took the sisters, while leaving Noah with his ambitious father (because the mother grew to resent anything male)... Noah's father wanted to take advantage of the fact that Noah was a genius to make Noah a scientist or something and get rich off of him... Noah's father pressured Noah to study hard all the time, to go to a great college and earn the love of his father... The father would sometimes even make Noah stay up late at night studying until Noah knows everything perfectly (which is why present teen Noah gets tired so easily)...
When Noah was finished with elementary school, his Aunt (from his mother's side) and Uncle came to visit Noah and they were horrified at how his father was treating him... Noah's father got thrown in jail and Noah's mother refuses to take care of him, so Noah was taken in by his aunt and uncle; they became Noah's true family... The aunt and uncle were very loving and kind and patient with Noah, which Noah is very grateful for... Noah's little cousins look up to Noah and idolize him, while in return Noah cares about them deeply... His cousins are currently 10 and 12 years old girls; they're chaotic, love sports and love having adventures in nature; Izzy and Eva remind Noah of his dear cousins...
Noah had NEVER told anyone this before, not even Owen, because Noah is ashamed of his past... But Noah eventually decides to tell Alejandro (who he was friends with for a super long time at that point), when Alejandro first told Noah about how horrible his family was... When Alejandro heard what Noah went though, he gave Noah a hug! 💔❤️💖
i do think exploring how noah would not only interact with alejandro in this scenario but how it shapes him outside of his canon characterization could be really interesting here.
because, and please take this with a grain of salt i’ve been patiently waiting to take my ap psych class for months and still haven’t been able to, in-universe at least, noahs general Behaviors are kinda just. there?
granted this is narratively because he’s a comic relief character but my point here is that he’s just kinda an asshole. that’s just how he Is. but here it would make more sense for that to be more of a defense mechanism than a facet of personality — leading into how this hypothetical noah would socialize.
^ sticking in a parallel here to alejandro’s family dynamic (the made-up one. in my head.), there might be a general. lack. of it.
i can imagine what with such a heavy push to focus only on academics, noah ended up missing out on having friends and further than that, potentially believing it as normal for a good while; and while he’d come to learn (pre-td) that wasn’t the case, i’d imagine TD would be the first time that notion is ever confronted head-on.
head-on beyond family, of course, imagining that when everything is said and done and he’s under custody of other family he’s rightfully touchy about the subject and prefers to not confront the issue at all — and of course the potential here for noah to lean hard into academics as a kind of escapism since he really didn’t grow up with much else.
not to say he doesn’t have any growth at all, because i can definitely see burnout hitting noah like a semi around his highschool years (not to mention chronic sleep deprivation and years of ignoring bodily cues).
so say his grades slip, and despite being in a better environment he is still terrified of punishment; he’s, for lack of a better term, really fucking stressed out. and through that, some well meaning family member brings up the idea of total drama (seeing as in-universe it’s implied it was more in-line with a talent show and all the contestants believed it would take place on a 5-star resort), and,, to be honest i can see it as possible that noah would read into it as 'we don't want you here' and accept out of reprimand.
circling back around -- total drama is the first proper thing to confront his lack of socialization; while i am a tragic fan of the 'noah got himself eliminated on purpose' theory, i do think it would make more sense here for him to have genuinely not known. Zero Social Skills.
(^ and is furthermore an example of how his childhood shaped him -- he doesn't think he needs to be good at socializing because he's academically smart and that should be enough. that's always been what he's pushed towards, and the standards are logically lower here -- he'd been taught that's all that mattered and while he's learned since then that is objectively false, this is the first time he's being forced to face it.)
anyway i'd imagine he finds eva, izzy, and owen all easiest to socialize himself with because of all their specific personality traits and how there really are no faux pas he's in fear of making (and ofc the parallels he sees with certain cousins and his friends).
post-tdi but especially post-action i think would be when noah also moves on to confronting those issues with his family specifically (bringing up things like his major stresses with academics), leading to him being pulled out of school entirely and doing self-paced online coursework,,, and of course now giving him time to Get A Job.
world tour,, ngl going full au here i do think it would work better if alejandro and noah left off WT as genuinely just friends -- what with the familial traumas and potentially rather heavy themes, i think it'd work better overall for their dynamic to literally just be friends for a while and have it develop into something more later.
also just as a concept i think it would be funny for alejandro and noah, once learning about each others terrible families and being deeper into the healing process themselves to just make the worst fucking jokes ever. most inopportune. izzy laughs along while eva and owen are quite concerned (sticking alejandro into team escope + owen here btw. put that Guy in That Group)
#anon how did you know ive been thinking of this hypothetical family set-up and how it would affect noah for months now#excuse me pulling this au Right Out Of My Ass at midnight o'clock#if i ever have a burst of random ass analysis ill rb it onto this post#uhhhh smth smth character interactions. idk. am tired. body aches#anyway. gifted kid burnout noah is canon basically to me#had to put it here#if this is incomprehensible no it isnt#sorry guys no thoughts only Wife from slay the princess 😔#kjask#total drama
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One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.
And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.
Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.
(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#trans leonardo#rottmnt headcanons#rise leo#trans leo#it’s like 4 am and I’m having trans leo feelings again sorry guys#totally get if other people disagree with me on this! but it’s always gonna be my no.1 headcanon fr#his complexion the vibrancy of his colors staying even in adulthood his general demeanor and this? this hc is LOCKED in my brain#plus the times Leo’s depicted in pink white and blue throughout the series like I KNOW it wasn’t on purpose but damn if it doesn’t help#(his nails are also the exact same as his toe nails/claws but I don’t super count this one tbh)#(even though it is TECHNICALLY another point in favor of trans leo)#(mainly because all the boys’ nails are very much more humanoid than turtle)#(just like how their tails aren’t really a factor either since we see them only in their baby forms and never again)#I really like the idea that he was a female red eared slider pre mutation#and Lou Jitsu’s dna paved how his humanoid features came out (aka a more masculine build and voice)#but his turtle features are all very much more in like with a female res#love the thought of rise bros meeting og comic turtle boys and Leo being like wait you guys are res too?? but…you’re not colorful……#one headcanon I have is that - you know the cute chirping and stuff we have the boys do?#I like to think that Leo’s chirping actually sounds more feminine to himself and his bros (so he tends to not do it)#idk I love thinking about this hc a lot and there’s no time like four am to talk about it huh?#future scenario has future Donnie going up to future Leo all smug like ah Nardo how’s the weather down there#and Leo’s all like good *sits down* why don’t you join me :)#Donnie: …*sits and stretches his neck out to be taller still*#Leo calls him a cheater but Donnie calls it ‘making use of his species’s advantages’#but yeah basically for many turtles the case is - bigger carapace? female. smaller carapace? male.#so it’s very interesting to take that knowledge and apply it here#did you know one of the turtles that this rule of thumb DOESNT apply to is alligator snapping turtles? male ones are the bigger ones there!#by a big difference too so Raph’s size makes a LOT of sense
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-- Poorly Constructed Enchanted Tool --
A small tool carved from a fruit tree seed. Energy to power the enchantment has seemingly run-out long ago, and the method of recharging is unknown - but, based on the appearance, it's very likely that this was once used for detecting magic. Usually, looking through the glass center would highlight areas of higher magical energy concentration present in the viewer's environment, even if they were otherwise obscured to the naked eye. While this form of enchantment itself is highly advanced, the craftsmanship of the item is far less neat or complex than what might be typically seen in similar devices. It may have been made as part of training/practice, or as a hasty replacement for a previous tool that had broken.
#written from the perspective of some fantasy traveler who checks all of the local thrift-stores and lost & found places for every#town they visit - looking for interesting items and documenting them or something#In reality - just another one of my goofy little avocado pit carvings lol. Still working on inlaying little stones in them and stuff#I don't really have the tools to make super intricate stuff but doing little plain swirly patterns is still fine enough lol.#WORKING ON NEW POLL ADVENTURE also I know I know it's been months.. I have been Busy and struck by the evils of summer#But like I mentioned in the previous one I do want to at LEAST finish the quest with the egg lol#ANYWAY.#Things like this would plausibly exist in Nanyevimi (my fantasy world) but wouldn't be very common as - like mentioned- this would be an#extremely advanced enchantment. REALLY advanced mages could sense magic around them (to varying degrees of pinpoint accuracy of location#) without even having to use any external device. But for a majority of people there's really no way to know someone is using magic near#you unless you either see visual proof or if it's strong enough to feel effects from it (since magic is kind of like radiation in that the#higher energy/more of it youre exposed to the more it damages you/can make you sick/etc.) and even then most people would just be like#'hmm why do I feel so nauseous and bad out of nowhere?' likely wouldn't directly think to link it to magic. Thus the only really reliable w#way isto just hone your senses over like 500 years as you become an expert mage - OR use enchantments like these. But a 'sense magic' encha#ntment is not as common as a just 'magic is not allowed here' enchantment. If you wanted to prevent magic from being usedin a space#it's easier to just put up a broad barrier enchantment around that space than to have some sort of Magic Sensor to pick out if it's being#done and then handle each individual case of it . etc. etc. These sort of things can have their uses (especially for people investigating#things or trying to be secretive about detecting something etc.) but are less common - especially in this form (where visuals are used. itd#be more likely to jsut have like 'piece of metal that gets warm or cool depending on magic nearby'.) ANWAY so this is why it's a notable#object. Though a majority of the realm is not very magic literate - if you were a researcher or a mage and found this at a pawn shop you'd#definitely be like 'oohhh!! :0 inch resting... ' if not you might just be like 'oh cool necklace!' lol#also love the quick 2min ''costume'' for the image of it being used. literally just 'wrap yourself in scarves from the waist up' and slap o#a wig and ears lol#on this blog I guess since it's worldbuilding related and technically art.. maybe more like crafting? I should have a crafts tag lol.. hmm
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Grow a Uterus and We'll Talk
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.
Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff, an absurd amount of baby rabies, and fluff. Don’t blame me if y’all get pregnant.
“You lay one finger on me and I’ll bite it off, Dixon.”
You’d done the same damn dance once a month, every month for the past two years, and you were starting to grow annoyed with your boyfriend’s advances.
“Would it really be tha’ bad if we tried it out…just once?” Daryl huffed.
“I don’t know,” you answered, shrugging, “Grow a uterus and we’ll talk.”
The archer playfully lunged at you from across the couch, but you easily side-stepped and took residence at the far end of the room. You reached for a stiletto to throw at his head if he came any closer.
“Still on the baby business, huh?” Carol called as she strode past the living room toward the kitchen.
“Ya know we’d make some damn cute crotch goblins,” Daryl yelled back. You rolled your eyes.
“That isn’t for you to decide, Daryl,” Carol’s voice seemed to toughen, even give him a scolding look from a distance away, “And if you knock her up before she’s ready, I’ll string you up by your balls and feed you to the walkers.”
The woman did not fuck around—and you loved her for it. Presently, you stuck your tongue out at Daryl as if to say, ‘See? I told you so’ and the man simply scowled. Flopped down on the couch and propped his dirty boots up on the coffee table.
“‘Course I wouldn’t try if ye weren’t ready,” he grumbled, “Jus’ wanted you ta consider it.”
You joined him on the couch and nudged his feet off the table.
“Is that why you’ve been parading every baby in Alexandria in my face for the past six months? Hoping I’d ‘consider’ things a little more?” you quipped, raising both eyebrows.
Daryl paused a beat, seemed to chew on his thoughts for a moment or two. Then he offered you a sheepish grin and said,
“Rick and Michonne really need the free childcare.”
You were itching to grab that high heel again. Before you could, though, a sound thundered through your foyer and the front door was thrown open wide. In the blink of an eye, Rick had stumbled through your entryway, passed off his infant to Daryl like a sack of potatoes, and raced back to the door.
“Rick, what the fuck?!” you shouted before he could escape.
“Date night,” Rick answered in a ragged breath, gripping the door frame while he glanced over at Daryl.
Daryl smiled and held Judith to his chest like she might’ve been the most precious thing in the universe. You narrowed your eyes.
“He put you up to this?” you asked, tipping your chin in Daryl’s direction.
Rick didn’t hesitate; he said that he had. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl shooting daggers at his friend. Promptly, Judith pawed at your boyfriend’s stubbled cheeks and babbled.
Sensing the tension in the air, Carol gathered her belongings and contemplated baking her bread elsewhere—or at least give you and Daryl some space to talk. She started toward the door,
“Walk a lady home?” she said to Rick.
Rick shot her a curious look but accepted anyway. Casting a sidelong glance to the man on the couch and the woman who was currently staring him down with an irate look in her eyes—you—he quickly surmised it was in his best interest to leave. Hopefully Judith was too young to catch on to any curse words that might be hurled in the next several minutes.
“Be good, you three,” Rick gave his parting words before following Carol outside. The door crashed shut behind them.
As soon as it had, you were back on your feet and traipsing out of the room.
“Come on,” Daryl whined.
He followed your steps into the kitchen with Judith still cradled in his arms. There was a pregnant pause as you rifled through your cabinets, wordlessly searching for some ingredients to bake whatever pastry it would take to get your mind off the discomfiture of this situation—you decided on muffins, at length.
It wasn’t like you hated babies. You loved their big bald heads and their pudgy, wobbling legs. You loved the way they giggled and smiled and dribbled food all over their fronts. You didn’t even mind the thought of pregnancy; carrying a pint-sized redneck in your belly for nine months wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.
It was the world that frightened you most. The thought of a newborn child’s slim chances at surviving a place like this. The fear of that alone was enough to have you fighting that dreadful outcome, tracking your cycle like a hound and fighting Daryl off every month when you knew that day was coming. You’d been pretty successful thus far. But by the looks of the man across the kitchen beaming down at the baby, you weren’t sure how long that winning streak would last.
“Wanna hold her?”
“No.”
“Wanna do her hair?”
“She hasn’t got any.”
Daryl shot you a look of mock indignation and stroked Judith’s head.
“You kiddin’? Little Ass Kicker’s gotta have at least fifteen strands by now,” he retorted, tugging at the short blond tufts as if to prove a point.
Judith smiled a toothless grin up at her Uncle Daryl. You all but had to leave the room to stifle the sounds of your reproductive organs screaming, 'Give that man a baby! NOW!' You clenched your stomach and turned away to start preparing the pans.
Daryl perched Judith on his lap and starting puffing out his cheeks. The infant shrieked with laughter. You assembled the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together on the counter and sought after a bowl.
“Dada, Dada!” Judith chanted. Trying in earnest to say ‘Daryl’ but ending up sounding like she was calling him dad. You dropped the mixing bowl on the countertop with a clatter.
“Daryl, kiddo, Dar-yl,” your boyfriend tried to teach her, enunciating his name a couple more times.
“Dada!” the little tyke howled again as she fisted his shirt in her fingers.
Milk and oil and— eggs. Where are the eggs?
You tore through the fridge and wanted to sob into the shelves with the sheer force of delirium coursing through your veins. Damn you, Charles Darwin, I am not in a place to be procreating right now.
You tried turning your mind to other things���cooking, crying, contemplating the course of human evolution—but when you turned back with the carton of eggs in hand, you almost sent the dozen of them crashing straight to the floor.
Daryl was pinching her chubby cheeks.
If you weren’t so violently inclined to breed a whole new gaggle of progeny with this man, you probably would’ve chucked an egg at his head.
You sighed as you dropped the last of your cooking supplies on the surface of the kitchen island. You planted your hands flat on the granite and stared shamelessly at the two of them. Daryl was feigning ignorance, tapping Judith’s tiny pink nose with the tip of his finger and watching her giggle. When he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, you spun around to kick the oven door shut and cut the appliance off, immediately.
“Alright, you win, you bastard,” you said in a huff.
Daryl looked up from his present occupation, eyeing you innocently.
“What do you mean, hon—”
You cut him short, raising a finger to halt his speech before starting toward the door.
“Shut up,” you muttered as you headed for the stairs, “Meet me up there in five.”
Daryl deposited Judith in her portable playard in a second’s time and went scrambling up those steps faster than he ever had before.
Silently, speedily, he thanked every one of his lucky stars and his best friend, Rick Grimes.
#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#daryl dixon fluff#fluff#daryl dixon imagine#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead#daryl dixon one shot#twd imagine
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Buttercream
Hello my loves! This is the first part to our Patreon exclusive series, Buttercream. The ready is available on Patreon (over 18 parts) and is still being updated. You all asked to see what’s available to read and I’m giving you sneaks of it!
A series featuring an Alpha Architect Harry, a bossy bakery owning omega Y/N, the sweetest treats taste tested and some steamy smut.
Check out our Patreon for all parts of the series and 150+ exclusive writings.
——-
The smell kept him coming back.
In his life, Harry had been to a quite a few bakeries. He could be considered an expert on fudge brownies, a specialist on cupcakes and the swirls of icing, a connoisseur of croissants. He treated himself a bit too often, if his mother had anything to say with it. His sweet tooth had always been prevalent in his life.
The new bakery down the road from his job, though? That had made him a true problem.
Every day before work, he stopped. Suit and all, pulling into the parking lot and nearly drooling the moment he got out. His feet carried him towards the door and the smell hit him immediately. Sweet buttercream, frothy vanilla, spiced cinnamon, and… something else. That something else that had him nearly vibrating, and now on a mission to have the whole menu to figure out just what the hell that scent was.
It was intoxicating. Mesmerizing. If Harry didn’t have work, he would spend hours just sitting here to smell it. It had a weird hold on him, and he didn’t quite know how to ask if it was an air freshener. That was unlikely for anywhere but restrooms anyways considering how offensive it could be for the noses of alpha’s and omegas alike. A bad scented one could send them into moods. Or even sickness. The sense of smell was very important.
“Mr.Styles.” The teen manning the cash register saluted him. He came in every day and was known to the cashiers, so he had ruled out it being one of them. Thank god. They were either young enough to not have a scent or too old for it to be possible. “What will it be today? Y/N’s been whipping up a storm for the holidays. New recipes. We’ve got a peppermint bark brownie that would go well with the peppermint mocha you like.” She chirped, watching as he scanned the cases.
Harry was a little intimidating but he was exceptionally charming. He smiled, he conversed, he tipped well, but he always seemed to be looking around. Trying to find something that no one could really place. The bakery was empty besides a mum and her friend with their kids, munching on treats and coffee as they watched the traffic go by. It wasn’t them. Harry’s ears did perk up when he heard an unfamiliar name.
“Y/N?” He asked, tilting his head as his attention went back to the cashier. “Who’s that? The owner?” Harry had never met the owner. For some reason, every time he came in the morning she had stepped out for her own break. It didn’t bother him so long as his compliments to the baker got passed along, but hearing her name stirred something in his chest.
“Yep.” She popped the p in her word. “She’s awesome. She started this all on her own after she went viral on the internet. She got the funds from online orders. You see the custom cakes and stuff but she does awesome experimental flavors. She doesn’t care if they’re hits or misses and let’s us go home with leftovers.” There was obvious pride to be working for someone like Y/N. It peaked his interest.
“Oh?” He asked, leaning his body against the counter. “That’s incredible. I’d be very happy to taste some of the new things.” He flashed a smile, tapping his card against the wood of the counter. “What would you think Y/N would suggest?” And why did saying her name make him feel silky and hot? Like it was meant to live on his lips? They tingled as the word left his mouth, making him shift his stance slightly. His skin was buzzing slightly as he heard someone else come from the back.
“She would suggest the peppermint bark brownies, the s’mores donut, the lemon cream cookie and the chili chocolate cupcake. Spice and sweet work surprisingly well together.” The airy voice went to his bones.
Harry could smell it fully now. The scent that laced the bakery was now engulfing him. Filling the space, making him inhale it with each breath. His hand tightened on the card, curling into a fist at his side as he caught a glimpse of her. She had been the source. It wasn’t a baked good or a cashier, but it was the baker herself that was making him addicted to the sweets laced with her scent.
He was silent as he observed her, a smile quirked on her lips. Slightly glossy and deliciously plump as she greeted the cashier with a simple hey and asking her to go to the back to grab the other new tray of cinnamon buns. Sliding them on to the rack, she used her hip to gently nudge the counter open and grabbed one for Harry.
“Here. On the house.” She slid the bag over to him with her soft simper, hands tapping on the wood.
She was marvelous.
Harry was speechless. Something he never usually was- the alpha could talk to a brick wall if he needed to- but this sweet little omega has been slowly hypnotizing him with her scent over the course of a month and now he was finally seeing her. He loved delayed gratification, a fan of edging, but this? He wished he had seen her far earlier.
“Hi.” He peeped. His face looked like he saw a ghost. The woman in front of him was like a mirage- and he wasn’t trying to be dramatic. He swore she was familiar to him in some way. Some how. She was all omega in the ways that called to him. The curve of her face and her soft voice… he could have started purring if he didn’t have some semblance of self control in his body.
“Hi.” She returned the greeting with a soft chuckle that heated his chest. “I hope you like the suggestions. I recognized your voice. You’ve been in here every morning we’re open and I figured it was about time to meet the loyal customer.” She chirped, brushing the stray hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ears. The adorably disheveled look added to her appeal.
A candy apple red apron was dusted with various baking material, tied around her waist snug. It showed the curve of her waist went deeper than what he could tell under her sweatshirt that appeared to have the bakery name printed on it. A swipe of flour was decorating her forehead, like she had wiped hair from her face and simply forgot about flour coated hands. Little details he was memorizing to think about later.
“I love the smell.” He blurted out. Immediately, he winced. That hadn’t been what he had meant to say, at least how he had meant to say it. Heat crept up further under his cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth, watching her giggle a bit as he tried to find his bearings.
“Fucking hell- I meant to say, I love your bakery. It smelled amazing when I went past it so I decided to stop in a few weeks ago and now it’s become a part of my daily routine. I bring in pastries for the office.”
“Aren’t you a star coworker.” She cooed, turning from him with a wink as she grabbed one of the red boxes and began to construct it. “They must love you at the office. I have on good authority that the one that brings the snacks, gets the pats on the back. Especially hand made, beautifully crafted baked goods.” She teased, opening up the case and beginning to place some sweets into it.
“I’d hope they like me. I’m their boss.” He laughed quietly, scratching the back of his neck. Never has he felt more like a schoolboy talking to a playground crush. He was head to toe in a suit good enough to meet his best clients, and a girl with flour on her face was sending him to his knees. Each time she moved, a gentle waft of her scent was given his direction and made that ever loved self control hang by a thread.
“Ooooo. Bossman.” She grinned, wiggling her brow as she placed another iced brownie with crushed peppermint bark sprinkled on top into the box. “Should have guessed. Love the suit, by the way. You look very handsome.”
That little compliment made his day. The pretty omega with the prettier smile and mouthwatering scent thought he looked handsome. That would be lingering in his brain all day. How she thought he was handsome. The casual compliments.
“Thank you.” He preened. “We do interior and exterior design for businesses. Up and coming places and remodels. So if you ever need a guy- I’m here.” He placed his hands in his pockets and lifted up on his toes rocking back and forth.
“Oooo. Is it that bad in here? Do I need a renovation?” She sucked her teeth, tilting her head. It had him freezing, mouth falling open to grovel. He hadn’t meant to offend her at all, hadn’t tried to insinuate it needed a remodel.
“Shit- no, I’m sorry. It’s very cute in here, I didn’t mean to insinuate it needed any help. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how it would sound-“
“Cool it, bossman.” She cooed, laughing at how he had nearly fallen over himself. “I’m just messing with you. The place does need some exterior work, actually. I hadn’t had the budget when we first started, nor the time. But I didn’t take any offense to it. You’ve got to market yourself. Don’t worry.” Her reassurance made him melt into relief, leaning into the counter. This whole encounter had him feeling a bit on edge in the weirdest way. He wanted to snuggle this woman, yet he was almost afraid of her. An omega. He was afraid of an omega.
Anyone else would laugh at him, perhaps, but he felt the nervousness creeping in his bones. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to think he was cool and want to know him better. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. She had unarmed his normal charm and made him feel like a nervous bundle of sweat and it was exhilarating.
“I’ll take a card, though.” She placed her hand out flat. “If you’ve got one. I’m gonna check out your website.”
Harry fished one out of his wallet, thankful he kept them on hand. It had his office number, and part of him wanted to offer his personal cell but he knew that would be a bit weird. Especially if she wanted to use his services. He almost hoped she didn’t- asking a client on a date wasn’t good for the image, was it? He wasn’t sure.
“If you’ve got any questions you can reach out on the email there, it’s a direct line to me- or uh, I come in every day so.” He shrugged. “Around this time. You’ve got very good coffee too. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good hazelnut. People put a lot of syrups and things… but your shop does it the best.”
“Thank you.” She seemed chuffed with his praise. “I taste test everything with the crew here. You’ll be in for a treat. If you’re coming in every morning, do you think you’d want to be a bit of a guinea pig for me?” She slid the box across the counter. “I’ve been experimenting like my lovely employee was saying. But I’d love a real customers opinion. Even if it’s bad. I want to know what the consumer likes.”
Harry was shocked. Y/N was kind of treating him like a friend, like she valued his exact opinion. He couldn’t deny he felt exceptionally special. Having not only the owner of the bakery but an omega he had some sort of crush on suddenly want to sample the new things she sells and get his opinion on it.
“Oh- uh. Alright. Of course! I can do that.” He grinned shyly, handing his card over for her to pay for the things she had put into the box. “I come in every morning during the week so… you can just let me know what’s new to taste.” There was a giddiness in his stomach. An excuse to talk to her every day. Or at least a few times a week. He’s never really reacted this way to an omega before, the scent craving, the shyness he suddenly felt, all of it was so new to him and he was unsure how to navigate it but he didn’t want to stop. He only wanted more.
“Perfect. What is your name, by the way?” The card was handed back to him and there was slight disappointment their fingers didn’t brush, but Harry took today was a victory.
“Harry. Harry Styles. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Y/N. I’m glad to meet you too. I hope to see more of you soon.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#alpha Harry#alpha harry styles#harry styles abo#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry fluff#harry smut#harry angst#harry fanfic#harry styles fanfics#harry styles fic#dom harry styles#patreon#patreon exclusive
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Alt Assistant AU - Game Night
“Hey.”
Kara lets herself into Lena’s office, her greeting pulling her girlfriend’s attention to her.
“Hey,” Lena returns. At this hour, she should be tired, but there’s not a trace of exhaustion in the focused gaze that meets hers with a smile. “How’d it go?”
Kara grins. “I signed my contract with CatCo forty-three minutes ago.”
Lena’s smile widens to beaming. “I knew you’d wow them.” She rises from her seat and leans in to press a kiss to Kara’s lips. “Congratulations, love.”
Lifting the bag of Big Belly in her hand, Kara shrugs her eyebrows invitingly. “Dinner to celebrate?”
Without a further word, Lena moves with her to the couch. Though she brings a stack of contracts with her, she holds off on reviewing them until after their burgers are devoured and the leftover fries long cold. Kara doesn’t mind Lena’s preoccupation– it gives her an opportunity to study Lena in profile, from the line of her jaw to the curve of her nose.
“Hey,” Kara murmurs.
“Hmmm?” Lena hums back, not quite looking away from the pages in her lap. Kara smiles.
“I’m hosting game night tomorrow.” Her declaration is met with a nod and another hum. “Wanna join?”
“Not really.”
That’s another difference of this reality– this Lena declines invitations just as often as the old Lena used to, but not out of self-preservation. She simply feels no need to commit herself to something she’s not interested in. Most times, Kara admires her forthright, but tonight she can’t help the disappointment that courses through her.
Lena senses the change in her mood, and sets the contract down to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I want you to come,” Kara returns plainly.
Lena’s brow furrows. “Why?”
It’s not an unreasonable question– Kara’s been hosting game not regularly since the reality reset, eager to reclaim one of the few things that helped her feel like nothing had changed. Lena has never expressed interest in attending, and Kara hasn’t extended the invite until now. But something has changed.
“My friends will be there,” Kara says. She lets her fingers trace the seam of the back couch cushion. She keeps her eyes on Lena’s. “I want you to meet them.”
Lena’s chin tilts to one side. “I see.”
“All of you are important to me,” Kara continues. “I want you all to know each other.”
She’s lived separate lives before– she has no interest in suffering similarly in this reality.
Lena’s pink lips twist into a smile. Her gaze teasingly turns askance, even as she gracefully scoots herself closer to Kara. “Well,” she purrs. “In that case…”
She leans in, and Kara closes the distance, capturing her lips– still tasting faintly of grease– in another kiss.
“I suppose I can make the time.”
—
Game night is better than Kara could have imagined. In the previous reality, Lena’s first three game nights had seen her stiff and reticent, coiled tightly as though expecting a physical blow. But current Lena… Lena is on full display. All of her magnetism that draws investors in like moths to flame now brings Kara’s friends into easy conversation, her features bright and open.
She absolutely dominates at Monopoly, of course. And Trivial Pursuit. Kara cherishes every cheer of excitement when Lena succeeds, be it collecting rent or a correct, obscure answer. Lena’s clearly enjoying herself, which was Kara’s secondary goal for the night. Joining the two halves of her life will only work if both sides have fun.
The night ends when Lena heads out first. “Early meeting,” she explains, but Kara suspects she’s bowing out– at least in part– to give them time to report in and render judgement.
When the door closes behind Lena, Kara takes a moment to deliver a load of dishes to the kitchen. She can’t help the grin that spreads her features– she can’t wait to hear her friends’ approval. But when she turns back to the line of solemn features lined up before her, her stomach drops.
“What? That– things went great! I thought—” She scans their faces. Alex, she can kind of understand. As her sister, she’s predisposed to being protective. Brainy, less so, but to Kara he seemed to be demurring to his own girlfriend, on whom Kara locks her gaze.
“Nia?”
Nia at least, she expected to be receptive to Lena. They’d been friends in the previous reality, to Kara’s recollection, and her easy-going nature surely would have left her primed to adore Lena.
Except Nia’s grimace is widest of them all.
“I dunno…” She draws out the word, stretching it into an audible apology. “She’s nice, I guess, but… she’s also a little… intense?”
Kara blinks in surprise. “Intense? How do you mean?”
Lena can be intense. Kara knows this. She wouldn’t be a good executive if she wasn’t. Nor would she be able to go head-to-head in a male-dominated industry. But Kara hadn’t seen that intensity tonight. She’s genuinely confused, and waits for Nia to elaborate.
“Well…” Nia seems at a loss for words, and she shoots a glance at the others for support. “She’s, uhh…”
“Obsessed with winning, for one,” Alex delivers bluntly.
Kara stares at her sister. “You’re mad because she… won?”
“It’s more than that,” Nia follows up quickly. “I don’t know how to really explain it, but she just doesn’t seem to… fit.”
“She has nothing in common,” Alex continues. “And I don’t like how she treats you.”
“Like what?”
“You waited on her hand and foot the entire night! Like you were her assistant!”
“It just felt like there wasn’t space for anyone else when you’re talking to her,” Nia says softly. “It might just be me, but…”
“It’s not.” Alex all but scowls. “All of us felt it, and the fact neither of you picked up on how uncomfortable we were says more than it doesn’t.”
Anger starts to build in Kara’s belly, but the hurt in her chest tamps it down. A lump lifts to her throat when she looks to the one person who hasn’t weighed in yet.
“Brainy?”
His expression is pensive. “I too noticed the magnitude of Miss Luthor’s presence, which perhaps may not be well suited to such intimate evenings between friends.”
Kara presses her lips together. She takes a deep breath, then a second. Once she’s sure she can speak without her voice breaking, she swallows thickly.
“I see.”
“Kara…” Nia trails off when Kara lifts her hand.
“I know you all must be tired. I’ll clean up,” she says. Nia opens her mouth to protest, but Alex places a hand on her shoulder. The younger woman slumps minutely as she quietly sighs.
“Okay.” Nia rises from her seat, tugging Brainy towards the door. “I’m sorry, Kara. I just worry–”
“Thank you for your honesty,” Kara clips out. It effectively silences Nia, who glances sadly at her before she and Brainy slip out of the apartment. It leaves Kara alone with her sister, whose gaze she studiously avoids.
“I’m not going to apologize,” Alex states. “She wasn’t the only one in the room tonight, and she was too full of herself to see that the rest of us weren’t gelling. And you deserve better than someone who treats you like the help.”
Kara doesn’t respond or look up from the knot of wood in her butcher block table.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear–”
“I need to get up early tomorrow,” Kara grinds out. She’s heard enough. “Please leave.”
Alex doesn’t push any further. She nods, reaching for her jacket.
“Call if you need anything.”
Kara doesn’t breathe again until the door clicks shut. Only then does she release the pressure in her chest with a gasp, as the tears splash onto her cheeks.
—
Kara had lied about the early morning, but she finds herself sleepless regardless. She waits until the sun rises before she finally texts Lena.
What’re you up to? She sends, doing her best to sound casual and unaffected. She thinks she might have succeeded when Lena’s pending response immediately appears in the form of three pulsing dots.
Work, comes the quick reply. Seoul needs some cajoling.
Kara sends a sympathetic emoji back.
Should have everything handled in a few hours. Meet me at the office at 10? We can go to brunch.
Despite the gloom hanging heavy in her thoughts, Kara finds herself smiling.
Absolutely.
She’s in front of LuthorCorp twenty minutes to ten, and sends a querying question mark to see if Lena’s already on her way down. Unsurprisingly, she gets a ‘ten more minutes’ in response. Kara decides to spend the wait inside, and makes her way up to Lena’s office. As the elevator lifts higher, Kara’s stomach sinks lower.
She won’t be able to hide this from Lena. Lena knows her too well, and besides that it wouldn’t be fair to let Lena believe something that wasn’t true. Still, Kara plasters on a smile before pushing the final door open.
Lena looks up, and her eyes spark with joy at the sight of her. She rises from her seat, meeting Kara halfway to the desk to greet her with a brief, sweet kiss.
“Hey,” Lena says. “I just wrapped up the call. I just need to document what was discussed and then we can leave. They were ornery, but I’m persistent, so they eventually came around.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Kara returns. She watches Lena return to her seat and soon the soft clicking of rapid typing filled the air.
“Last night was fun,” Lena says, glancing briefly up to catch Kara’s gaze. Her eyes are bright, betraying the honesty of her words. “And your friends are nice. I like them.”
“Yeah,” Kara breathes. Her fingers reflexively reach up to adjust her glasses. Lena’s typing pauses. She looks up at Kara for a poignant moment, and Kara can see the moment her walls shutter into place behind her eyes.
“Ah.”
Lena’s gaze returns to the computer screen, and her long fingers resume their typing. Her tone is even, but the neutrality in it is clue enough that she’s more affected than she wants Kara to know.
“It… It’s not that they didn’t like you–”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lena says coolly. “I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“What I mean is–”
“It’s fine, Kara,” Lena cuts her off, irritation leaking through her facade. “It doesn’t matter–”
“It does to me!” Kara blurts. Her vision wobbles through angry tears. Her throat aches, but with the truth hanging between them the dam has broken. “It matters to me.”
Lena’s fingers fall still. Her gaze softens as her eyes find Kara’s. After a moment, she pushes her chair back and rises. Crossing around her desk, she leans back against it, arms folding over her chest. Lena studies the ground at her feet for a long moment before lifting her chin.
“Is it something I can fix?”
The question is plain yet loaded with thinly veiled hurt, and it breaks Kara’s heart to hear it. Then in the next heartbeat, anger flares in Kara’s chest. The one thing she admired most about Lena in this reality, the one thing she was never forced to do here, was to remake herself into something she wasn’t. To change herself to be more palatable to others.
And here she is, offering to do just that.
For Kara.
“No,” Kara croaks. Then, stronger, “no.”
Lena takes a deep breath. “Kara, I can see how much it means to you, to live your life as a singular whole. And I get it– I do. But I’ve seen this before. I know if it comes down to a choice between them and me… I know I won’t be the one to keep you.”
Her voice cracks, and Kara’s heart stutters to see the sudden tears in Lena’s eyes. Her own cheeks are already damp, and her breath hitches in her chest. Lena pushes towards her at the sound of it. Her palms frame Kara’s cheeks so gently Kara only sobs again.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers, lips quivering. “Kara...”
“You’re not.” Kara swallows, her hands coming to rest on Lena’s waist. The contact grounds her, lending her the strength that drained out of her the night before. It bolsters her, drying her tears even as Lena’s thumbs brush them from her cheeks. “You won’t.”
Kara leans in and kisses Lena firmly on the mouth. Then she wraps her arms around her, hugging her close enough to whisper low in Lena’s ear.
“I love you, Lena.”
Lena’s arms tighten around her waist, burrowing her face against Kara’s neck.
“You will never lose me,” Kara vows. Her jaw tightens. “Never again.”
She pulls away with another fierce kiss. Lena lets her go, but her touch lingers as they disengage. Kara backs up, keeping her gaze on Lena for a long moment.
“I have to go. But I’ll be back.” She smiles. “And brunch’ll be on me.”
Lena does her best to smirk, and it almost reaches her eyes. “Promise?”
Kara knows it’s meant to be a suggestive tease, but the nod she gives in return is as solemn as a vow.
“I promise.”
—
Kara issues only a short text to the group.
My place. Now.
If any of them had other plans, her tone plainly supercedes them, as fifteen minutes later her friends are all sitting on her couch watching her glare at them.
“I am angry,” she states, unnecessarily. “With all of you.”
Nia is the only one to quail at her tone. “Kara…”
“You are so indescribably selfish, each and every one of you. And you have the gall to say Lena is full of herself?”
Alex’s mouth opens in defiance, but Kara doesn’t give her the chance to speak.
“But you’re right about one thing– last night was a test. Lena might have failed yours… but you failed mine.”
Nia and Brainy look at each other, but Alex’s features don’t soften a bit. It only rankles Kara further.
“So what if she wins at all the games? None of you can pretend you wouldn’t do the same in her place.”
Brainy’s head tilts in concession, but her focus is caught once more by Alex once more drawing breath to protest.
“And the fact that I wait on her, as you so aptly put it?” she barks. “That I refilled her glass and kept her snacks topped up? What you conveniently failed to notice is that she didn’t ask me to do any of that!”
“No, she just expected it–!”
“I did it because I wanted to! Because I wanted her to be comfortable around my friends! Because I love her!”
Her voice rings out sharply in the sudden quiet. Kara hadn’t meant to admit it to them, not here, not now, but she refuses to take it back. She lets her scowl deepen.
“I love her,” she repeats, this time calmer. She looks at each of them. “I introduced you to the woman I love, and all you could think of were yourselves.”
Nia’s guilt visibly deepens, her shoulders bowing in on themselves. Brainy’s chin lifts, suffering the accusation stoically without denial. Only Alex remains unrepentant.
“Lena is kind and confident, and wonderful. She’s also stubborn, strong, and ruthless when she needs to be. I will not let her compromise any part of who she is just because you can’t handle who and what she is.”
A beat of silence follows, before Alex sighs.
“She was your boss, Kara,” she points out. Her tone, at least, has softened. “A boss you hated. And now she’s got you wrapped around her little finger? I don’t buy it. I don’t buy whatever she’s told you about how she’s changed, just to get you into bed–”
“Enough!” Kara shouts. Her hand slices through the air, silencing her sister, if only for a moment. She trembles with rage. “Don’t you dare say anything about something you know nothing about–”
“I’m your sister,” Alex fires back, “I know plenty–”
“She’s not the one who changed!” Kara cries, finally shocking Alex to a standstill. “You say you know me, but I’m the one who changed. For months, I’ve been different, and none of you have noticed.” She glares at her sister. “Not even you.”
None of them seem to know what to say. Even Brainy, astute and perceptive as he is, seems perplexed. She continues to glare at them, but ultimately reaches for her purse to leave. She’s done with this conversation.
“Lock up after yourselves,” she snaps. “I’ve got brunch to get to.”
She leaves them all where they sit, gaping after her until she slams the door shut behind her.
#supercorp#alt Assistant au#game night#read em and weep#got at least one more snippet on the brain#should have it up this week
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Something I’ve been thinking about when listening to ‘Crooked’ is how Ozzie seems to really relate to Fizz with lines like ‘I think you’re messy but I’m messy too’ and singing about his own ‘crooked heart’ and how he finds Fizz’s imperfections beautiful.
And I think this could get really interesting if Asmodeus and the rest of the Sins are fallen angels just like Lucifer. I mean imagine what Ozzie’s sense of self-image is like if he was an angel who left or was expelled from Heaven and took on this new form in Hell?
Like we’ve always wondered why the Sins look the way they do, particularly in contrast to the demons they seem to rule over. Asmodeus rules over the succubi and incubi yet is this multi-headed fire-rooster, Beelzebub rules over the hellhounds yet is some mashup of a fox/canine and a bee, and now Mammon rules over the shark-demons yet is some weird spider/pine-tree thing.
What if the reason they all look like this is the RESULT of them being Fallen Angels? Specifically, the result of their expulsion from Heaven? What if this is the whole reason for them being ‘embodiments of sin’ in the first place? What if it was all originally intended as a PUNISHIMENT by Heaven for whatever transgressions they may have committed? Something meant to ‘curse’ them when they fell.
In which case, I think it’s all too easy to imagine why Ozzie empathizes, relates and connects so much with Fizzerolli and his struggles. Because Fizz is going through a struggle likely all too similar to one that Ozzie may have gone through, what ALL of the Sins likely went through after their fall. Expelled from their home, having their bodies massively changed and told it was BAD. And I think Crooked shows how Ozzie coped with it: By embracing what he had become and finding the beauty in it, something that he now uses to help Fizzerolli, showing that there is no shame in all their crooked, messy imperfections, and that there is even beauty in them.
And I imagine that ALL of the Sins did more or less the same: They embraced and OWNED this ‘curse’ Heaven sought to ‘punish’ them with. Embraced these ‘sins’ they are supposed to embody and made them their own. It’s why Ozzie and Bee are able to express this very positive interpretation of Lust and Gluttony respectively. As a way of making a new life for themselves and also probably a big ‘fuck-you’ to Heaven.
Now that’s not to say that ALL of the Sins were able to do this in a positive manner, Mammon being a clear example. I imagine that as we are introduced to the rest of the Sins, we’re going to see more of a range of positive and negative ways they’ve chosen to express the ‘sin’ they embody. Like even Asmodeus has been shown to have had his hang-ups on Lust and Love being exclusive, leading to him keeping his true relationship with Fizzerolli secret.
Though it’s clear over the last couple episodes that Ozzie isn’t worried about that anymore.
And I think that in particular is REALLY interesting, because it implies that the Sins aren’t actually bound to a particular way of indulging. Rather, the way they express their ‘sin’ is not by compulsion but by CHOICE. Which I think puts all of the Sins’ actions in a pretty interesting light.
Like it means that Mammon being this petty, skeevy, manipulative asshole isn’t some grand, nebulous ‘Embodiment of Greed’ thing, but rather simply a Mammon thing. The product of his own personal issues and hang-ups. Which also weirdly enough implies that there’s hope for Mammon. The possibility that he doesn’t HAVE to be this way. Admittedly it would almost certainly take a (pardon the pun) HELLUVA family intervention to have a hope of making that happen, but you never know. It would certainly be in keeping with the themes of the show.
All in all, I’m finding more and more the possible backgrounds of the Seven Sins to be VERY compelling. Not just for ‘The Lore’ reasons, but because it further develops the Sins as characters. It takes these monstrously powerful and ancient beings and shows them to be far more grounded and, for lack of a better word, human than we might give them credit for.
#helluva boss#helluva boss analysis#helluva boss theory#asmodeus#helluva asmodeus#queen beelzebub#helluva beelzebub#mammon#helluva mammon#helluva seven sins#helluva boss lore#i feel like the fandom is really sleeping on the possibility of the other sins also being fallen angels like lucifer
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My question about growth/the venture capitalist mindset is like … how have venture capitalists and the like not figured this out already? It’s been a decade, give or take a few years, since the internet started being monetized to hell and back, and if we all know they’re not really making a profit (bc no one clicks on ads, obviously) then why are the structures still in place?im looking at all this and I feel like a dunce bc I just don’t get how ppl can keep ofunelling money into something that we all know doesn’t work lol ! :0
there's a couple reasons for this, but the tldr of it is that if you're wile e. coyote and you're running in the air over the edge of a cliff, it's in your material interests not to look down
let's say you're a venture capitalist and you've put $10 million into hypnospace, the hot new social media site. when you invest into a company, you invest at a certain price--the company has an idea of how much it's worth, and that determines what price they'll sell their shares at. let's say you buy at $10 a share, so you have a million shares in hypnospace. that $10-a-share-valuation was based on hypnospace telling you (in, say, 2012, when this was still believable and even seemed self-evident) that becuse they were seeing huge growth in daily active users, they'd eventually become insanely profitable.
now usually even you, a venture capitalist, a lifeform mostly resembling a parasitic flatworm, might be a little cautious about this investment. will they really become profitable? it seems risky. however because it's 2012, the US federal reserve has been giving out loans at their ZIRP (zero interest rate policy) for four years in a response to the 2008 financial crisis. what that means is that it's incredibly cheap for banks to borrow money, which in turn means it's incredibly cheap for you, a venture capitalist, to borrow that money from banks. when money is cheap, risky investments make a lot of sense--when you can get an extremely low-interest-rate loan, throwing that money down the toilet is unfortunate but no longer catastrophic. so you put your $10 million into hypnospace because the risk is artificially lowered by the ZIRP, making it well worth the reward.
now it's five years later and it's 2017 and it's becoming increasingly clear that hypnospace.horse is probably not going to became the new facebook and that perhaps there will in fact only be one facebook. bummer. but you've still got a million shares in it. this means that you're directly invested--not in the company becoming profitable, but in the valuation of that company going up. if people can be convinced to buy hypnospace shares at $12-a-share, you can make off with a cool $2 million even though the website never did anything useful or made any money. on the other hand, if people start thinking 'hey, this website has never made any money and it's obviously never going to, why would we buy shares in it'--shares plummet to $1 a share, and you're out $9 million! worst case scenario!
so even if you, the venture capitalist, realize that the website's a boondoggle, it's in your best interest to convince everyone around you that no, it really will become profitable, and its shares (that you hold some of!) are really valuable and you should want to buy them. and this doesn't just mean lying to other venture capitalists (although they love doing this)--capitalists pay close attention to sales of stocks. if you realize that hypnospace is never going to make money and decide to cut your losses and abruptly offload all million shares, other capitalists will interpret that for what it means--that you've totally lost confidence in seeing return on your investment--and many of them will panic and also start selling their shares, while capitalists with no hypnospace shares will think 'boy, this hypnospace thing seems like a real wash, i don't want to buy shares in that'.
so what do you do? you keep putting money in. if the company's increasing in valuation the more it grows, then even if you're crystal-clear aware that growth has no path to profitability, you still gain wealth for every month that the business stays afloat by burning money, because the valuation goes up and your shares are worth more. the ideal outcome for a venture capitalist investing into a tech company is to make a big investment, let the company bleed money while it grows for several years, then sell--not all at once, not abruptly, and not while the price is in stagnation or decline. it's one big game of hot potato for when the gig is finally up. not every venture capitalist has to be a totally credulous dipshit--just the last one in the line.
#ask#now a lot of the calculus on this has changed with interest rates on the rise again#but this explains basically the last decade of the tech sector
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I just read some of your works and god do you write good better than the actual show I would even say.
I really want to request a Yandere headcannon for mainly Ozzie and Fizzarolli they don’t get enough love as they do, but with a little twist
Whichever you choose I would love either one you pick cause im indecisive.
1: a powerful reader maybe even more stronger than Ozzie being lovers with the two
Or 2: a chubby but physically strong reader that could lift Ozzie with ease as example
If you do see this I hope you consider writing this, you have such a lovely writing style and I would love to see what you cook up
Also call me 🥟-anon if you will cause I hope to request and talk more
ᯓ★ Murder is Okay, Shutting Us Out Isn't.
Yandere! Asmodeus & Fizzarolli / Overlord! Reader | Oneshot
TW! - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK: romanticizing yandere(s), obsessive behavior, def not proof read (because we die like Adam in this household /j), Vox (/j), boner mention (no sexual content), self harm, yelling, possessive
ᯓ I actually loved both ideas you gave me, so I'm going to mash then both together into one! For that, I'm going to give you all a little crash course into the background for the Reader (you) in this story so things make a little more sense:
The reader, though an Overlord, is both physically and magically stronger than Ozzie, though doesn't show it off often. Also, this happened due to their mix of blood; The reader is the child of an an old overlord and a Sin (I'm going for Wrath in this story) and had gained the physical strength from their overlord mother and the magical strength from their Sin father.
With this they're able to be known as the Wrathful Overlord, or 'The child and will of Wrath', though Satan doesn't claim them to be his own and has no interest to.
Also, no the Reader isn't stronger than other Sins, just Ozzie for this case. Since Ozzie is claimed to be the weakest (or one of the Weaker) Sin that we currently know of, the Reader is matched right around his level. Yet they, much like Alastor, cannot beat other Sins or even Adam, as even with their strengths, are set back by the rather large power difference.
So with that out of the way, please enjoy!:
ᯓ You had been living with Ozzie and Fizz for a few months, silently having moved away from your district on the Eastern side of the Pride Ring after their proposal. While it was not uncommon for love to bloom in hell, even with the eternal suffering or the large amount of (usually) taboo topics being put on display down here, you were still not big on having your private life being posted for all of hell to see.
Especially those in the Pride Ring, where you were sure Vox would take any chance to slander and drag your name in the mud for having a 'blasphemous' relationship. And really, you didn't feel like cleaning up the blood of another Sinner.
Oh no, not because you killed them. Dear, Lucifer god no! Why do that when you had two perfect body guards at your beckon and call?
ᯓ "Honestly, I don't even understand how there can be blasphemy down here. It's hell, God is not watching what we do and I pity him if he did." You would mutter, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching News 666 on your cellphone silently with Fizz; Who had became curious open hearing the news topic and bounded over, wrapping his snake-like arms around your waist twice.
He squeezed you a little tight, yet you didn't mind, especially when his head was rested upon your shoulder. You could practically see the growing smirk on his lips before he even spoke, "You know everything we do down here is blasphemes right? That's why we're in Hell, not Heaven.
I mean the murder, the sex, the gr-" Though Fizz's little list was caught off short as you hushed him, pressing a quick finger up against his lips.
ᯓ Ozzie was cooking in the background, occasionally taking peaks behind him to make sure you nor Fizz were doing anything stupid; Like trying to cook despite knowing neither of you could do so. It was always a nice gesture until Ozzie has to get the kitchen repaired... again.
"And this in, News 666 and it's broadcasting will be disturbed quickly for a message from The fucking V's themselves." Katie Killjoy would crack her neck to the side, seeming oh so annoyed at the interruption. You were too, and Fizz didn't miss the way your face scrunched.
"You know Tom, their news isn't even repu-" Katie tried to shout before their segment was cut off, their news source becoming engulfed in The V's logo before the man of the hour, Vox himself, overtook the screen. Him and his snicker, you knew this couldn't be good.
ᯓ Vox never hit the air unless he knew something, unless he wanted something to happen, unless this was his calculated and curated response to something.
ᯓ And the last time that happened, Alastor wiped the floor with him.
ᯓ Fizz drew away from your shoulder a little, his eyes narrowing at your growing irritation before he glanced back towards Ozzie, who already had his arms crossed in confusion. Sure, they've heard about this Vox, mostly from you, but they never expected you to have this much of a detest about him.
What happened between you and this TV-head that they didn't manage to dig up? And most importantly, recent or not, did he ever hurt you in anyway. . . or was he planning to?
ᯓ "This just in, news is starting to come up from higher-ups, and close friends, in Wrath Town that their leader, supposed their supposed Overlord, the Child of Wrath, themselves, have gone missing!" Vox stated, trying to carefully keep his voice leveled yet failing miserably; From the twitch in his eye and the wide, plastering grin across his flat face, you could just tell this was another Alastor situation.
Yet an Alastor situation that was not pointed directly towards Alastor rather You; Which you had saw coming, maybe even expected it, but fucking Lucifer did you hope you could at least get a good year under your belt before Vox came in to spread 'miss information' all over the Pride Ring.
All just to keep his viewers attention on him, just to keep his support. What a loser.
ᯓ You would scoff, trying not to laugh at his obsessive allegations, which were true you guessed, as Fizz and Ozzie silently listened from beside and behind you. While you didn't seem alarmed, or even frightened at the least (as they were sure you would be, seeing as this seemed common for Overlords to not get along) they sure were.
Well, not alarmed per say, rather on guard; carefully lingering on the words that Vox was so carelessly spewing to all of those who watched his broadcast. And you noticed how Fizz drew back closer, leaning over your shoulder to glare at your phone, to glare at Vox like Vox might feel his stare, like he was daring Vox to say something else; All the while you couldn't help but laugh, chuckle, giggle, and kind of make fun of Vox as he continued on.
His senseless chatter played in the background as you tried to wave off your fiancés' concerns, "Please, guys, don't get worked up over him, he's no threat; More like an annoying bug under everyone's shoe."
"One who, from what we hear, likes to stick his non-existent nose in other people's business." Ozzie would comment from the stove, his glare still harsh on the screen even as he flipped over the bacon in the pan. His tone was leaking with annoyance, or maybe irritation and ire is are better words; Either way, you shrugged your shoulders as he continued, "Really, doesn't he have like any other news? that's all basically weightless if it's coming from other people's mouths!"
"It's gossip, it keeps his viewer's attention and support up. That's the whole point," You would explain, slightly rolling your eyes at the crazed look Vox gave you. Granted, it was through the screen, but, "I would have thought he would know better than to talk about me, especially since I've shattered his screen more than once."
Though Fizz was less amused, "You both give than man way too much credit-" Was the only part of his commentary he could get out, hands on the counter now, before a shout from Vox drew all of your attentions back in.
ᯓ "Oh, ho-ho!" And there was a cackle, one that caused your eyebrows to frown downwards and scrunch your face. One that rang out like an annoying fire alarm and drew a growl from Fizz's throat and a flicker of hellish flame from Ozzie's coat. It's like you all could smell that the shit that Vox was going to spew.
"THIS JUST IN," And there was a slam of his hands on the table, "I JUST GOT WORD FROM A TRUSTED SOURCE THAT THE WRATHFUL OVERLORD IS NOT ONLY NOT IN THEIR PITIFUL, SHIT-HOLE OF A TOWN, YET THEY'RE NOT EVEN IN THE PRIDE RING!-
Where the fuck are they, you might ask? Well, not fucking here and maybe that's for the better, this place was turning into a shit down with them around." His grin would tease you from behind the screen, and you grew slightly worried that he could see you. That, as his eyes widened and he drew closer to the screen, that he could see right through it. . .
ᯓ "You're in the fucking Lust ring, you absolute SLUT! What the fuck are you doing hanging around an, who's that? An Imp and- And is that Asmodeus himself in the background!" Clack! You would drop your phone like it had burnt you and stumbled backwards, not out of fear, you could never be fearful of someone like Vox, yet out of . . . what would be the word?
Ire? Exasperation? Irritation? Preservation?
Fizz was quick to lock his arms, just to keep you from stumbling back too far and hitting against the countertops near the stove, potentially burning yourself; As Ozzie stepped up, standing protectively between the phone and the two of you, the flickering of his growing detestation and bubbling anger slowly flickering around his coat, which threatened to burst flames.
"This just in, your little Wrathful Overlord, has not only abandoned the Pride Ring yet is sleeping with the Sin of Lust and his weak-dick, limp ass Imp!" Vox's cackle echoed around the room, "That's so fucking sad!- Oh, looks like no one will ever have any sort of reason to be scared of you anymore," And his name spilled out from his lips with venom, poisoning the air with his slithering voice.
That was, until his broadcast was cut off, cutting his maniacal laughter short, with a crackle then pop. It seemed like Ozzie had enough of listening to Vox, and seemingly had enough of your phone, as he had slammed his fists into the counter. Effectively ending the broadcast and your phone all in one go.
ᯓ And nothing but silence filled the room, just as you were sure nothing but silence (and soon an eruption of hatred and irreverence) filled the Pride Ring, and Wrath Town.
ᯓ "Fuck. ." Was the words that left with an airy breath.
ᯓ "THAT FUCKER IS SO DEAD!" Was Ozzie's first words; his hair combusting into flames, his irritation and outrage boiling over and finally having struck that match.
ᯓ Maybe it was slight shock overwhelming you, never having expected your engagement to be outrighted for everyone in the Pride Ring to hear, or maybe it was Fizz carelessly (accidentally) spinning you around, but you found yourself exasperation against the kitchen counter; Your eyes still locked on where your cellphone was now intended into the counter.
"I've got the rope!" Fizz's voice barely registered in your ears, along with the sounds of his mechanical arms and legs moving to easily wrap himself around Ozzie. "Let's go kill that fucker!- or maybe tie him up and leave him exposed and naked on his own stupid broadcast. Like, really, who does he think he is trying to come for us like that?"
Fizz's agreement with Ozzie's irrational solution caused a growl, a very lion-like one, to seep through Ozzie's gritting teeth, "A two timing nobody, that's who he is, and I won't stand for it! He comes for what's mine and I'm going to show him who the FUCK he's dealing with!"
ᯓ You know, maybe you've enabled their behavior a little too much; Sure, you loved the way they grew overprotected about you (and as you were sure they loved when you did the same) yet logically, you knew you had to stop them. When news gets out about Ozzie and Fizz going up to the Pride Ring and killing, or humiliating, an overlord not only will Vox's words be taken as facts, which can cause a whole other set of issues, yet Lucifer might also get involved.
Of course, though, your knowledge about how Sins worked together and how they could interfere with each other's rings was limited. Yet, you can only guess a Sin killing an Overlord in another person's ring would just cause some sort of uproar.
ᯓ So when Ozzie, with Fizz coiled around his arm as to not get burnt, were about to leave the kitchen-living room, you had to act fast. Even while a little dazed, a little out of your own body, stilling trying to reel in the information of the situation that just happened, you dashed forward towards them. Or maybe your feet did so because they knew you had to catch them, and it sure felt that way rather than your own doing.
It all felt like you were watching through a pair of another's person's eyes as you rushed over, your tail trashing out to stag the Ozzie's heel and trip him (you would have to apologize later). It bought you some time to slid in between him and floor, effectively catching him in your arms.
"Yeah, as to hell we're going to go do anything boys! We're," You slammed the door closed, effectively walking away from it, "Staying here!" And that was your final verdict and that was what you were going to do as to make sure you can control this situation as much as possible. While frazzled and your finances' not thinking properly, giving into their own natural urges that some would call taboo (even for hell), this was no time to do that. Ergo, this was no time to be out murdering people!
ᯓ At that time you failed to notice the blush and wide eyes that had sprung to Ozzie's face when you dropped them both onto the couch, as well as the slight boner he had to hide by crossing his legs; Which Fizz defiantly noticed and teased him for with a snicker.
Often times, not on purpose, did Fizz and Ozzie forget that out of all three of you, you were the strongest. Physically and magically, as you tended not to flash it off like some demons like to do, instead you flashed where you shined mentally. Though, damn, does it get Ozzie every time you swiftly come in and pick him up like he was weightless, with the same ease he picked up Fizz and you (even after you had told the first few times he didn't have to, later learning that you were conscience about your weight due to your chubbier figure).
So it managed to calm Ozzie down, at least a little for the time being. Fizz would follow after, not really looking to murder people by himself - or at least not wanting to or not believing that he could.
ᯓ Calling your name from the couch, yet to no effect, the two would watch as you walked away from them to only circle right back round and leave again; pacing around the room with a constipated look on your face, leaving them confused, and slightly concerned, on the couch.
Fizz slinked down to sit on Ozzie's lap, seeing as Ozzie had sat up to make sure you were alright while walking circles around them. Them both noticed quickly the way your tail trashed dangerously, the slight glare you gave to your phone anytime you passed through the kitchen, and the way your left hand clutched and curled in on itself. Fizz was sure your claws were digging into the skin of your palm, where marks from previous punctures of your claws laid fresh.
"Hey," Ozzie started, calling out your nickname yet watching it effectively fall onto death ears. Even so, he continued, what's going on?" An invitation to talk to them, an invitation that received the acknowledgement of you hitting the tip of your tail against the floor to ceiling glass. Your own way of letting them know you heard him, yet needed a moment to gather your thoughts.
To find something that can fix this situation without it blowing over and becoming bigger than you needed or wanted it to. To find a way to sweep and brush it under the rug. To just- make it like it never, ever fucking happened!
ᯓ Crack!
ᯓ You barely felt it, the smoke of Wrath infesting your very mind and blurring every other sense. Yet, Fizz and Ozzie caught it with ease. They heard the crack of your bone, the saw the way your nails not only had dug into your skin with the increase pressure yet suddenly broke through your palm and to the other side of your hand.
Fizz covered his mouth, trying to hold in the gag that threatened to escape from the shock that filled him. Ozzie, wrapping an arm around Fizz to support him up to his chest to comfort him, would stand. . . and he didn't know how else to get your attention but exploding; Calling your name with a tone he rather not use with you.
"WHAT?" Yet you would snap back, a green lining the inside of your eyes, right by your pupils. "WHAT CAN BE SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU CANNOT WAIT, OZZIE. I'M TRYING TO-"
A tug at your wrist, Fizz, despite not being able to stand the sight if your claws puncturing through your hand, dragged you over to them. He rose your hand up to eye level once you were in front of the two, and he didn't want to make you watch the black blood that flowed down from it, that coated your claws thickly, he knew it was the only way to get you to pay attention.
To realize that you hurt yourself in the panic of trying to fix a problem that could best be fixed together. To realize the scowl that was placed upon Ozzie's face at your actions, yet the underlining concern he had. To notice how Fizz was a bit sickened at the fact that you could so easily hurt yourself, and hurt that you wouldn't talk to them and effectively just shut them out again.
Even though they have both told you countless times that you could talk them through your thoughts, that they can help you, that they want to help you! Even if you felt like you needed to handle everything that happened by yourself, even if you felt like the world was crushing in they were here! They were always here for you, and they were ready to help as long as you just talked to them.
ᯓ Fizz and Ozzie, out of everyone and anything, care about you (and granted each other) the most. And to see you physically hurt yourself over someone you told them not to worry about . . . well it stabbed them in the heart and made them ever so more concerned.
ᯓ "I just, I need time. I can figure this out if I'm given enough time." You would try to explain to Ozzie and Fizz as you sat on Ozzie's desk, where Fizz usually sat to replace any problem limbs. Fizz sat beside you, securely holding your right hand in his own and nuzzling up to you; His head resting against yours. Ozzie was in front of you, carefully trying to bring your claws out of the palm of your hand without hurting you, so he could then disinfect the wounds and wrap them up.
He would have gotten a doctor, but felt a bit too fired up to let any medical professional touch you when you were so vulnerable. "Honey, get us, we know," Ozzie started, then let out a heavy sigh.
"You say that every time something shitty happens in Pride. It's like- your go to thing!" Fizz added on, his tone a bit chirpier than Ozzie's; trying to lighten the mood, bring at least a small tug of a smile onto your face.
Ozzie would soon apologize as you let out a hiss, feeling your claw carefully yet strikingly painfully being pulled out from your palm. You squeezed Fizz's hand, he nuzzled his head further against yours. And yet, you still spoke through gritted teeth and hissing, "I just! There never seems to be- FUCK, Ozzie that shit hurts!"
"Love, I'm sorry, but I'm trying my best to make it as painless as possible. Yet, it's kind of hard when you managed to stab yourself right between your own bones." Ozzie mumbled, quickly working on the exposed wound, trying to wrap it with a towel just for the time being so he could work on the other three fingers (your thumb didn't puncture through skin, but did leave a good wound on your middle finger).
Fizz would let out a nervous bit of laughter, trying to turn the situation away from your pain, just so you wouldn't have to think about it. "Hey, why don't you tell us why. . . you were so against us going to go kill the guy! I mean, I'm sure it would be easier than thinking of a whole counter plan and stabbing yourself through the hand, wounding yourself for someone you-"
"Froggie," Ozzie warned, though his tone was still soft, noticing quickly how he began to ramble out of nerves. "I don't think that's helping."
ᯓ Yet you didn't mind much, it kind of did set your brain a little more straight and screwed in properly. So in a way you kind of did need Fizz's nervous rambling right now, "No, no it's fine. I. . . needed that. I just," A frown stretched upon your face, letting out a heavy sigh that was quickly replaced with a painful hiss and quickly followed by another apology from Ozzie.
Your face scrunched at the pain, yet softened as you felt Fizz trying to comfort you once more. His hand squeezed your undamaged one, and when you turned your head towards his, he connected your foreheads.
The distress that came from your fiancés were slowly becoming more apparent to you; Especially by the way Fizz looked into you, his own eyebrows frowned and scrunched, worry laced around his eyes. You felt the pressure of Ozzie wrapping your newly oxygen exposed wound with the towel, trying to cover it gently yet firmly enough.
"I just. . . didn't want them to hurt you." The words left your mouth before you could think about their weight; Even if they were nothing but the truth, all the worry that struck your brain the moment Vox had called you out was all due to your worry that Fizz and Ozzie might get hurt.
That they might be caught in some sort of cross fire between Vox and you and you would have to deal with their blood on your hands. That was a thought your couldn't bear to stand.
ᯓ The silence was thick for a good few minutes as you kept your eyes squeezed shut, afraid to open them and face Ozzie and Fizz. You could feel as Fizz leaned in, nuzzling your nose against his in an attempt to comfort you, coax you to open your eyes. But he just saw they way they twitched and you squeezed harder.
You could feel as Ozzie paused, his fingers gently grabbing around yours yet not giving it's usual tug. And without looking at them, you felt the nerves build in your stomach at the thought that you might have offended them in some way, or they were disappointed in you for some reason. Yet they weren't. Logically, you knew that they weren't any of those things, yet they worrying thoughts still crept in your mind.
"Baby, no. . ." Ozzie's sweet voice would ring through the unwanted chatter in your mind, almost like he could hear or feel what was happening in your tornado of a mind. "No, you don't have to worry about us, we were more worried about you. Trust me."
You felt Ozzie's engulfing hand rest against your cheek and Fizz nod against your head, "Oh yeah! Our names have been racked through the mud since the whole Mammon incident. Trust us, we can take a little shit, but-" And Fizz paused, always a little hesitant to speak about these topics, "This is new to you, and we know how important your work is to you."
"And Just like Sins, I'm sure an Overlord's power also comes from your reputation among people. And that guy, well, directly went for your reputation," Ozzie mumbled, his thumb rubbing sweetly against your cheek. He couldn't dent it, but he loved how they were a little chubbier than most, making your skin a little more plump and soft. "And for that I would have killed him! But you don't want that, for some reason I still don't understand!- But, we respect that. Just know we're here to help anyway we can."
"Yeah just say the word!" Fizz playfully moved his head to nuzzle his nose against your other cheek, effectively earning a smile from you and a few bits of suppressed laughter that dared to bubble out your throat. You weren't sure why it was always ticklish when Fizz nuzzled his nose against your cheek, yet it was.
"Okay, Okay!-" A giggle slipped through your lips, "I'm sorry. . . I should have, talked to you guys instead of-" You paused, chewing over your words.
Yet, you didn't have to think for long as Fizz cut in, "Pushing us away?"
"Hurting yourself?" Ozzie swiftly added after, both with their own sassy yet caring tones as they stared down at you.
"Yeah. . . that." You would mumble, with an heat rushing up to your cheeks out of embarrassment. You didn't realize you were actually being that big of a dick to the two most important people in your life. Wow, you really did need that reality check from Fizz earlier.
ᯓ "Well, thank god we love you." Fizz's sarcastic voice trailed out with a cheeky grin spread across his face, showing off his pointed teeth and his ever so adorable cheeky attitude. "Or else this would be such a different story! You might have ended out on the streets, or worse, dead." And even if his words would be less than comforting for anyone else, you couldn't help but smile at them; Shooting your own cheeky glare back, finally gaining the courage to open your eyes again.
To bask in your lovers' faces instead of cowering in the darkness, fearing a rejection that was never there to begin with. Something that would have never came.
Ozzie took the chance to, while you were laughing and smiling and paying attention to Fizz rather than your own pain, to gently yet swiftly take out your third claw. Instantly, your tail trashed and a hiss escaped your mouth. And while he felt bad, Ozzie couldn't help but shake his head and rather seriously state, "Yeah, but don't ever do this again."
"Yeah no, I don't think I can take looking at you stab through your own hand either." Fizz agreed, shaking his head. Either way, he went back to nuzzling you to comfort, trying to distract you from the pain of your hands as Ozzie moved the towel over your third wound. One more to go.
You tried to keep in the giggles that threatened to escape due to their words, yet you couldn't help it. With a roll of your eyes and a sarcastic, yet playful, tone, you muttered back to them, "Well, fuck, if I ever get stabbed I'm never coming to either of you!"
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ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
[ A/N: Also, thank you so much for this request, it was a joy to write! I can't wait to hear from you again the future!
And thank you to everyone for supporting my work, I've gotten so many nice comments in my inbox and I promise I'm trying to get through everyone's requests, or as much of them as possible. There's a good handful of them that request the same thing, so they will be clumped together, just because I don't think I can make enough content to make four separate posts about Adam with a Goth girlfriend or Yandere Lucifer lol! But, thank you all for the support, really, I wouldn't be able to do this all without you :) ]
#helluva x reader#helluva asmodeus x reader#helluva fizzarolli x reader#fizzmodeus x reader#helluva boss x reader#asmodeus x reader#asmodeus helluva boss#helluva boss asmodeus#asmodeus x fizzarolli#fizzarolli#fizzarozzie#fizzaroli helluva boss#fizzmodeus#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#helluva boss#helluvaboss#tw yandere#yandere#yandere x reader#adam x you#yandere imagines#not proof read#not proofread#x reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#helluverse#hazbin hotel
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Never Again.
Platonic Yandere Metal Family x Reader
Prompt- “It’s midnight! Where the hell were you?”
Notes- Reader is Dee’s twin. No gender mentioned that I remember. Heavy is 13 as in canon and Reader and Dee are 16
Warnings- Reader is injured, Reader was stabbed, Victoria yells at reader, Victoria and Heavy torture people in the living room but we don't talk about that, reader is scared of being seen as weak
The red head ranted and threw items across the room. You didn't pay much mind to the words because you knew whatever you answered wouldn't matter.
Finally the woman, your mother, hovered over you fuming. “It's fucking midnight! Where the hell were you?! Huh?!” She looked expectantly while crossing her arms.
The floor seemed more interesting than the anger or at least that's what you pretended was the case.
“I lost track of time at the library, that's all.” You exasperated.
Finally your father who stayed quiet spoke up. A menacing smile and a tilt to his head. “The library closes at 9.”
Sighing you look up. “I'm friends with the librarians kid she let's us stay as long as we stay in one spot and keep it clean… Normally she let's is know when it's closing time but she got busy and we all forgot.”
“Heh, and you expect us to actually believe you?” Your mom sneered.
“Why wouldn't you?” You asked nervously. “I've never done anything like this, I don't skip school, or get in trouble, or talk back… I made a mistake and I'm sorry.” Your hands shook lightly as you held yourself up. Only glancing at your parents as the seem to boil.
Nothing you said seemed to matter though as you spent the next hour be berated by both your mom and dad. On top you're grounded. 2 weeks. School then home then school then home. Nothing else, nothing more.
It was 1:13 when you finally got back to your room. It didn't make much sense to you how your twin or little brother acted out but you do something wrong once and you get banned from living a life.
At least they didn't find out the truth. Maybe they knew you were lying and that's why they really punished you, but it didn't matter as long as they didn't know what really happened.
Because what really happened will haunt you, and you refuse to let them know how weak you truly are. You would always pride yourself in being independent. While Dee and Heavy leaned on their parents you distanced yourself from them.
You had a job, you had good grades, and as long as no one noticed, you had good health
But of course that's what the big problem was. Bruises from where the men hit you rose across your body. And blood spilled onto your clothes where they slashed at you. The room was dark and your parents didn't see anything, but there were bruises forming on your face.
You were exhausted and you knew if you went to sleep now you might be woken by someone else and they'd see the mess that's been made of you.
You laid for 2 hours in that alley. That's enough sleep right?
Dee opens your door and slinks into your room. He thought you were pouting. He knew you got into trouble last night, but didn't expect what he saw.
If only you could have stayed up.
~~~~~~
You were sitting slouched on the floor book loose in your grip. You had tried staying up, but it clearly didn’t work. Bruises dispersed against your wrists, arms and face. Your tanktop bunched up slightly by your slumped form showing off the bandages delicately wrapped around your midsection.
Dee had made a decision at that moment to let you rest and to figure out what the hell happened to you.
You woke up to chaos. Your eyes were still heavy and blurry. The noises still didn’t quite reach your ears yet. It was the warm palm on your face that had you trying to wake yourself up. Your body was weighed down with pain.
Blinking quickly, large blue eyes and a frown were the first thing you were met with. “Dad?” you choked out, “What- what you doing?”
Your throat burned slightly, but it was nothing compared to the pain in your side. You couldn’t comprehend the fear of your family finding out what happened, you were too drained, too hurt.
“I’m putting you in your bed. You fell asleep on the floor.” Your father says smoothly.
It was disturbing hearing this voice so early. His normal pitch was lowered several octaves and his smile was nowhere to be seen.
You tried to help by standing, but you were quickly tutted and moved into his arms. Of course you wanted to try, you still didn’t want to seem useless. It was concerning, you could hear your mother hollering in the background.
The worry was overwhelming. Was she angry with you or what happened? Will this change how they see you forever? Are they disappointed? What were you supposed to say?
Breathing deeply you were still held to your dads chest. It took a moment to realize he was in the bed with you. Holding you close to him as you lay on your non injured side.
“What’s happening?” you rasped out. As nice as it was to be held, your mom was upset and he should be with her.
Your dad let out a breath. “Your mother is taking care of some things while I take care of you.”
Humming acknowledgement to him you rested your eyes again.
Of course Glam kept it simple. He didn’t need to tell you he already stitched your side. He didn’t need to tell you that Dee hacked the library cameras and found the men who hurt you, or that the “things” Victoria was dealing with were the men that harmed you. He didn’t need to tell you that Heavy was so upset that he offered to help Victoria deal with these men. He also didn’t need to tell you that Dee was handing in the paperwork to the school for you to be homeschooled and a letter telling the librarian you won’t be coming back.
All you needed to know was you were safe.
And you’ll stay safe no matter what your family has to do. This will never happen again.
#metal family x reader#yandere metal family#platonic metal family x reader#platonic glam x reader#platonic dee x reader#platonic heavy x reader#platonic Vicky x reader#yandere metal family x reader
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If Emesis Blue really is a Dream, I love the fact that BLU Medic sees RED the way he does.
Think about it, BLU Medic is a Catholic who knows he’s mentally ill and is trying his best to keep it under control. RED Medic is a megalomaniac who likes the challenge of playing god and made a deal with the devil.
And beyond that, BLU has other personalities that he doesn’t understand [who freak him out] and hallucinates them from time to time.
That’s the actual reason he didn’t attack RED immediately, he thought it was one of them from afar. It has to be trippy and difficult to deal with that guy IRL in battle with the personality issue.
And even if BLU doesn’t know it, if he thinks his other personalities are demons or something, they still act like people. Angry, revengeful people, but not monsters. This picture is such a good representation of the difference between the two. RED is feral and messing with powers he shouldn’t…. For fun. Fixing respawn failures is not “for fun” it’s meant to save mercenary lives. So RED would be Monstrous.
He’s still red hued even in this blue room, skin and hair too, like a demon. And given he joined Classic team in hunting his own crew and BLU mercs, it makes sense that he’s literally two-faced.
Something else that’s interesting is that BLU Medic’s eyes are only ever black/brown as the funeral version, and he has hallucinations that make that personality look demonic.
But again, funeral Medic acts like a human person that’s 100% done with BLU Corp and their lies, not a cryptid. He’s not actually evil like Ludwig thinks.
But RED Medic is criminally insane in ways that transcend other Gravel War mercs, and that’s disturbing to someone like BLU.
O no he crumchy
He just put Scout’s body in a coffin as respectfully as he could given the circumstances. RED Medic brought their team’s sniper back to life and there’s no way BLU hasn’t heard about it post-comics. He didn’t want RED touching Scout, even if it could bring him back. He doesn’t trust that maniac, and that’s 100% valid. Why?
BLU team doesn’t know RED personally. What they’re like at their base, living with each other. They don’t know that RED Medic was infiltrating Classic, not truly joining them. They don’t know what he was doing in the early 40s or how close he is with RED Heavy. And here’s the proof:
BLU Medic doesn’t know that this is BLU Heavy; he knows that he’s at RED base, and wouldn’t have a reason to believe that this isn’t RED Heavy. Especially after what happened to Scout. So from his perspective, RED finally pushed nature too far and it blew up in his face. Resulting in RED Heavy loosing his mind and attacking.
That’s also why he hesitates to run away from the big Hoovy; he might be in hearty agreement with defeating RED Medic and leave BLU alone. But that’s not the case, and so the context changes from “this guy no longer serves RED” to “this guy has lost the plot altogether, he’s just attacking anybody’.
We, the tf2 fans know that this isn’t how RED Heavy acts; he actually didn’t question Medic’s loyalty in comic 6 and was ride or die, so if anything he’d still be docile to RED. But nobody on BLU team knows that.
And BLU’s doctor believes that something terrible will happen to RED if he doesn’t stop messing with the powers that be, even though he has no idea about the demonic deal.
#tf2#emesis blue#character analysis#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#Honestly BLU team would have no idea that RED team has their chill moments#I mean RED Medic stole their Spy’s living head and kept him from respawning for at least a few days.#Same reason RED Sniper is so creepy in this movie. He got brought back irl
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im so excited you've got some time to write!
i'd love to see spencer and reader having to cancel a holiday because of a case he's back late from, and him making up for it by planning a staycation? If that makes sense?
Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰!! Loved writing this. Warnings: fluff, kisses, use of pet names, (0.7k)
You've been so excited about the vacation with Spencer, and so has Spencer. You couldn't wait to get to the beach, and not have to worry about anything important. It would be just you and Spencer spending the much deserved time off alone together.
But as usually the criminals have other plans and the case Spencer works on goes on for longer than expected so you have no other choice, but to cancel the vacation.
Spencer apologises like crazy over the phone, he knows how excited you were about the vacation. But he can't leave the case, the team is already short on people, JJ home with sick boys, and Dave helping his daughter, and you understand .
That's why you aren't mad at Spencer, you know there's nothing he can do, and you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating him.
And even though Spencer knows you understand he still feels pretty bad. He rakes his mind for a solution, for something to make up for the cancellation as the team heads home, and it doesn't take him long to figure it out.
Emily gives the whole team four free days because the team's been working nonstop and everybody deserves some break. It gives Spencer the perfect opportunity to spend the time with you.
When Spencer comes home you greet him right at the door. You basically throw yourself around his neck, and kiss him all over his blushing face.
"I missed you, honey, "he tells you with affection. Spencer closes the door behind him, and at the same time he manages to give you a kiss, too.
"I missed you, Spencer. How was the flight home? Did you manage to get some sleep?" you question, while you play with the hair at the back of Spencer's head lovingly, and as you scan his face for any hint of tiredness.
You conclude he doesn't look tired just very handsome as always.
Spencer basically ignores both of your questions, and says, "I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise?" you smile at him, eyebrows up in question.
"Yes, c'mon." Spencer pulls you after him towards the living room so he can cuddle you on the couch (he really meant it when he said he'd missed you), and at the same time tell you all about the surprise.
"What's the big surprise? Come on Spencer, just tell me," you beg him while you make yourself comfortable with your legs over his thighs, hugging him tightly from the side.
"Okay, okay, sweetheart, " Spencer chuckles at you impatience, "so I know that you were very excited about the vacation, and I'm so sorry that we had to cancel it-"
"It's okay, Spence, I understand-"
"But it's not okay, yeah? I promised you vacation so you should get the vacation, sweetheart," Spencer smiles softly at you, "Emily gave us the Friday and the Weekend free so I was thinking...."
"Yeah?" you suddenly get very interested, giddy smile on your face.
"That maybe we could still get out of here for a few days. David's got this house by the lake just an hour from here, and he's happy to let us stay there if-if you would want to. The lake is cold, but there's a hot tub there, a-and it's very close to this small town. We could visit some coffee shops, too. So what do you say? Would that be okay?" Spencer unsurely asks you, and you find his uncertainty ridiculous.
You suddenly kiss him, happy as one can be. "Spence, of course I want to. That would be more than okay."
"Yeah?"
"Definitely Spencer. How did you think of this? This is maybe even better than the beach," you ask happily. Your excitement about the vacation back.
"Emily suggested it so we have her, and Dave, to thank for it. And really? Better than the beach? You're such a liar, you were too excited about the cocktails on the beach," Spencer teases you, and rightfully so. You really do think the beach is better, even though you love this new idea.
"Yeah, you're right, "you giggle, " but I love your new plan too Spencer. The only thing I care about is that I get to spend some time with you whether it's on the beach or by the lake, I don't mind where."
"Me too, baby," Spencer leans in to kiss you again, happy that you're happy.
He can't wait to spend the next few days with you. Just you and him, and no stress. The only thing he plans to do is to make you cuddle in the bed with him as long as you let him, before you'll want to actually explore the small town or try out the hot tub. Either way he knows he'll be content.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid
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Yandere! Sugar daddy x "pure"! Reader
EEEEEEEEE Time to write my baby, the fruit of my dark rofan loins (jk) Basically, this yandere is my first yandere OC and when I gave life (lol) to him in Char/ai yesterday, I just knew he had to be next.
Also, I contemplated what title to give him since he's also a mafia boss, but I decided to go with Sugar daddy since it's the most integral part of his story.
Also, "pure" just means that you dress light, really. But in Rowan's eyes, you were like an angel, a pure being that he needs to taint (oops spoiler)
Yandere! Sugar daddy name: Rowan Silas (Yes, he even has a last name)
notes: Rowan is not old, OLD. He's not a Dilf/Gilf level sugar daddy. In his lore with my other OC (his love interest), he's older by five years. Also, reader has a womb, due to mentions of pregnancy (why did I do this pregnancy shit twice? Dunno really.)
TW: noncon pregnancy, trackers, nsfw stuff
ALSO, REQUESTS ARE OPEN <3 (I don't even know if people will request but LOL just in case.)
The man only knew pain and crime all his life.
He never experienced anything good, apart from gunning down his enemies alive if that even means the same as what people deem as "good".
His life of crime was because of his adoptive father, who picked him up from the slums to become one of his personnel.
He was only seven by then. But his hands stained with blood as he killed the other kid who drowned his precious pet kitten in the lake. That's where his father knew that Rowan is not normal.
I mean, who would sport a smile while choking his fellow kid alive?
All Rowan said was "He deserved it though."
"He took what's precious from me."
That was enough to make his father set him straight to become the heir of the mafia family.
He grew up battered and bruised yet the vices he only knew is his smoking from his precious churchwarden pipe, and violence.
He told his father that it was enough for him.
Yet his body raged on, wanting more and more as greed consumed him for more.
Yes, he's a greedy man who wants more.
After all, he had nothing, then had one precious thing, then lost that thing. And then, when he eliminated the person who stole his precious thing, he got everything.
Did that make sense? To Rowan, it didn't.
He already got everything, but why does he want more?
So with a clean shot to the head, he killed his father and immediately inherited the family.
Now, he can spend the money and the resources as much as he wants. So he did. He went to casinos, brothels, luxury hotels and cruises. Everything he thinks that he needs.
But he still wants more. He still needs more.
And by god, he did get more.
He bumped into you one day, with you in your soft outfit of creams and pastels. Your pure, clean eyes made his heart skip a beat as you said sorry to him.
His greed triggered.
He wanted you so bad.
When he learned you needed a job when he saw your folder filled with resumes, he felt like he won the lottery.
"How about becoming my sugar baby? Don't worry, I won't ask anything. Much."
And as your cute figure pondered what to do, he smirked. You, in the middle of his dim office, in light clothing and an innocent face, was such a contrast in the dark office filled with his smoke from his beloved churchwarden pipe. You stuck out like a sore thumb, and he liked it.
He loved it.
And as your lips dropped the answer he wanted to hear, he shivered and gave you a lopsided smile.
"Good. Now, what do you want, love?"
Rowan sat down on his office chair, he cracked his neck and sighed.
He was bone tired. He just finished a cartel mission that he himself as the boss had to interfere. It was annoying because it was due to his incompetent new recruits.
At least they're sleeping with the "fishies", as what you call the finned sea creatures.
He grabbed something from his pocket and brought it up to his face. It was an intricate jeweled choker with a lot of rose gold arcs, jewels that match your eyes, and a diamond encrusted opal centerpiece.
He imagined you wearing it. Wrapping the choker on your neck himself, seeing your eyes flash in wonder and amazement. He imagined you also getting shy and saying that it was too expensive, and him saying that it was okay, and he wanted to give you this entirely by his own volition. And he got excited.
...In one way or another.
He chuckled and shook his head, swinging on his swivel chair as he dialed your number.
After two rings, you picked up.
"Love, come here. I got a gift for you."
You whined, getting shy again. He chuckled.
"You know what I say, I don't want to hear you say no. So come here now."
So you did.
Once you got there, he smiled and kissed your lips softly, bringing you close to him by your waist and lifting you up easily with his tatted arms.
"Come, I'll give you the present myself."
You got curious naturally.
He settled you in front of the floor length mirror which also saw... Much more intimate and sensual things you both did other than this gift giving thing he's doing.
Rowan slowly grabbed your hair and raised it, making you shiver with goosebumps from the action. He smirked, seeing you so flustered from the simple act of him grabbing your hair.
Well, that, and he also liked to grab your hair a lot while fucking you senselessly. There's that too.
You closed your eyes when he told you too, and you felt the familiar cold sensation of jewelry resting on your neck. But this time, it hugged it, making you open your eyes. It was the beautiful choker he was admiring earlier.
"Do you love it?" Rowan asked, looking at you through the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You nodded enthusiastically and said yes. He smirked.
This was the first time you didn't say to take the gift back with such a flustered apprehensive look. You're starting to get greedy.
He loved that. A lot.
"Now, how about you kiss me in return, hmm?" You rolled your eyes and gently kissed him. You know this day is not just going to end in a kiss.
But you didn't mind.
And he knows that.
You went home that day with Rowan driving you. He gave you more gifts that you shyly accepted once more, making Rowan shiver in glee. Again, you didn't reject them at all.
You're slowly getting tainted by his greediness.
And hopefully, you will be greedy enough to bring up your relationship to him, and tell him that you wanted more to this.
That you wanted his love.
Oh, he trembles at the thought.
It's not a question of if, but when, after all.
But now, he's just slowly moving forward with your relationship. Slow and steady wins the race, after all. Despite him living such a fast paced life, he knows he's patient enough to wait for you.
But if you backtracked and got out of his tight grasp...
Let's just say that the tracker he planted on your laptop, your phone, and now your precious choker will help him find you if you ran away.
You were the light to his dark, dreary life.
He'll be crazy enough to let you go.
And he's already crazy about you.
That's why he's making you addicted to him also. Showering you with gifts and love. Praising your body, worshipping it, pleasing it until you reach the heavens like the angel you are.
And if you still didn't want him... Let's just say the condoms with holes in them that he himself poked will do the trick.
It was a dirty tactic. But who cares? He's a mafia boss for god's sake. Dirty tactics aren't new to him.
And if you still somehow didn't end up pregnant and got to run away, he'll use his influence to find you.
You got no escape.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
You were his love. His greed.
With a drag of his churchwarden pipe, he drove off to plan your wedding.
You were going to be his after all.
No matter what.
I don't know if I did my baby Rowan justice i'm going crazY FUCK.
Can you guys tell I have favoritism? Because I do LOL
#male yandere x reader#yandere boyfriend#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere writing#tw yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere fic#lizzaneiaelizalde#yandere drabbles
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Astarion is so interesting with his charlatan background when considering his approval/disapproval versus what actually gives him inspiration... it really can add a lot of nuance to his character.
in Act 2, there's a scene where you're in a den of enemies and you're being told to handle a group who failed their mission any way you see fit. You can kill them, fight them honorably in battle, or let them go. If you let them go, Astarion disapproves. Later, you're questioned as to why you let them go, where you'll get a persuasion or deception check: if you pick persuasion Astarion doesn't approve but he does get inspiration.
So now, he's not approved, exactly. But he's inspired. Which reads very, very interestingly if you're going for a "good" ending with Astarion. He disapproves of you saving the goblins. Why? He approves in most cases of you sparing "monsterous" things: the goblins in act 1, the hag, the gnolls. Why does he disapprove saving them here?
Well, the circumstances are different. You are, literally, surrounded by enemies at this point. And you're choosing mercy in an environment where that is objectively the stupid thing to do. But Act 1 shows us he wants us to be understanding towards "monsters" ; what he doesn't want is for us to be put into danger doing it.
Which makes sense. 200 years of abuse. If you play through his story, you know how compassion was treated by Cazador. And Moonrise tower, with it's viscera hidden in the walls and all these casual cruelties, must feel a bit like going back. So it's easy, then, for Astarion to fall into the mindset again; you've shown mercy where it isn't safe to show mercy. You're going to get yourself killed. of course he disapproves.
But then, later, he does approve of you lying about their fate (or, more accurately, you're intentions). He's inspired by it. He disapproved of what you did, but if you successfully lie about it he turns that around. Kindness doesn't have to be a death sentence. Mercy doesn't have to be weakness. Yes, it's more dangerous to be compassionate: that's what makes it so important.
So, in a "good" playthrough the way this can be read is Astarion, fearing for you, himself, the crew because you're choosing the wrong time to be nice. Only for him to be inspired when it works out. When no one gets hurt. Everyone gets to live (for now), even though you choose to be kind.
And I would like to add: it's only a -1 approval if you spare the goblins. Given there are actions in this game that can make approval sky rocket or plummet I think it's significant that acts of compassion only ever net a -1, consistently, throughout Acts 1 and 2.
I think a fair reading then would be: it's not that Astarion hates kindness or goodness or compassion. It's that Astarion has, quite literally, only just escaped 200 years of abuse. Kindness after horrors often chafes worse than cruelty, especially when it's long-term sustained horrors. Where was that kindness for him, throughout the last 200 years? Where was the compassion then? It's not anger towards you for choosing kindness: it's mourning the fact that no one ever showed that towards him. Of course he disapproves; if people are truly good and kind and compassionate and worth saving... why did no one ever save him?
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Crowley was Raphael?
WARNING: MAJOR GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS
Ok, so in the last few years we all enjoyed the headcanon that Crowley was the Archangel Raphal pre-Fall. To be completely honest, in season one this theory didn't make a lot of sense because we knew basically nothing about Crowley as an angel except for the fact that he helped create the stars and fell because he asked too many questions. So, even though it was a nice and interesting theory, I thought it would remain that, a theory.
Well, seems like this theory is basically confirmed now at the end of season 2. But let's start at the beginning.
First, we have to talk about the Hierarchy of Angels in Christianity. This Hierarchy was theorized by Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite in his book De Coelesti Hierarchia (On the Celestial Hierarchy). Dionysius described nine levels of spiritual beings which he grouped into 9 orders.
Highest orders:
Seraphim
Cherubim
Thrones
Middle orders:
Dominions
Virtues
Powers
Lowest orders:
Principalities
Archangels
Angels
Now, a lot of people asked Neil why the Archangels have so much power if they are so low in the Hierarchy and he said that he and Terry actually tought of archangels and Archangels as different beings.
So we have the arch-angels, in thre sense of being just above the lowest Choir of angels, and then we have the Arch-angels, in the sense of being above all angels.
Actually, the term archangel itself is not found in the Hebrew Bible or the Christian Old Testament, and in the Greek New Testament the term archangel is used referring to Michael, who is called 'one of the chief princes,' and 'the great prince'.
The idea of seven archangels is most explicitly stated in the apocryphal Book of Tobit when Raphael reveals himself, declaring: "I am Raphael, one of the seven angels who stand in the glorious presence of the Lord, ready to serve him."
In Judaism the Archangels are given the title of śārīm, meaning "princes", to show their superior rank and status, so they are also called "Princes of Heaven".
In season 2 episode 6, when Crowley is in Heaven trying to find any info on Gabriel, Muriel gives him the missing Archangel's file explaining that even if they wanted, they couldn't show it to him, since only angels above the rank of Dominions could access it. Immediately after, without putting in any effort, Crowley opens the file, saying that he was an angel once and they never bothered to change passwords. (I totally read a fic like this btw).
When the Archangel Saraquel meets them and recognises Crowley, she says that they worked together on the Horsehead Nebula. So Crowley must have been pretty high up in the ranks if he worked with an Archangel.
When they show us the scene of the trial, Gabriel is ready to be cast down to Hell, but the Metatron stops him and says:
"You are not going to hell. For one Prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem."
So we know that one of the Seven Archangels has Fallen, and it could be Lucifer, even though in the bible it is never stated that he was an archangel, but wouldn't they have said so if it were the case?
Also in episode 2, when Shax tells Crowley that Heaven and Hell think Aziraphale has something to do with Gabriel's disappearence, she says:
"A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed".
Reminds you of something? Raphael, one of the mightiest of Archangels?
I really hope they will confirm the theory in season 3.
#go2 spoilers#good omens spoilers#good omens#crowley was raphael#antony j crowley#ineffable husbands#neil gaiman#good omens 2
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