#I just love joke so much and I hate that he keeps being beaten down

[fandomfairyuniverse]

It’s times like these when one has to wonder if maybe the reason joke is held to such a weird standard by the people around him is because he. Went to jail. And has a criminal record. And is therefore “tainted.” So to speak. But I’m not going to think about it because if I do I’ll get pissed off and I don’t have the emotional energy for that

[jeonghantis]

✧ — HEAVEN ANGEL (y.jh)

PAIRING ⇝ yoon jeonghan x reader.

SUMMARY ⇝

beautiful, everyone had called you. the compliment lost its charm on you, knowing fully well it’s paid only for the surface-level appearance you kept up and nothing else you had to offer. irritating, he had called you. you let him fuck you.

TAGS ⇝ uni!au, fratboy!jeonghan, fwb, smut, a dash of angst (oopsy!).

WARNINGS ⇝ language, fem!reader (she/her), houseparty scene (not exactly detailed), gossip, explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI!), bathroom (mirror) sex, unrequited crush (or is it?), reader has commitment issues, reader is kinda mean, mentions of p*ss and sh*t but not in a sexual manner, just for jokes.

WORD COUNT ⇝ 4.1k words.

note: funnily enough, i had two requests specifically for house party sex with yoon jeonghan. i lost the ask for them both (accidentally deleted while my laptop glitched). i am insane. and before anyone asks, yes there'll be a part two/prequel :) and also this is somewhat connected to my upcoming cheol fic. so i hope you stay tuned! proofread by the star of my life @cheolhub. sar fr put up with every version and my constant anxiety over every paragraph. i couldn't have done it without them. i love u so much. @szakias was also helpful in keeping me sane as i wrote this out 🙇 i love u so bad. loosely based on the song heaven angel by the driver era. don't think it'd go with the fic but you know :)

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit tags under the cut.

EXPLICIT TAGS ⇝ semi-public setting (bathroom sex while there's a party), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, dumbification, teasing, petnames (angel), degradation (whore, bitch), dacryphilia, marking, briefest thigh-fucking, clit stimulation, cumming inside, squirting, light overstimulation, (a little) aftercare.

A strange rumor went around the campus. A rumor of a person whose beauty was so out of this world that it was terrifying. 

Unreal. Everyone had said. You won’t be able to look her in the eyes! 

But beyond that angelic beauty was a personality so sour, no one dared thought to approach her. Those that tried their luck had it beaten right out of them and they came to hate her to hide their broken hearts.

What a bitch, they had said. Does she think she’s all that?

Yoon Jeonghan, for one, thought they were being overly dramatic. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon how gossip can evolve to add in such theatrics. It was like living in one of those regency novels his sister owned which he had perused over on one particularly boring day. Had these people really had nothing better to do with their lives? Were they trying to live in a novel of their own? Jeonghan never understood them, neither cared for these kinds of things. He’d much rather form his opinions. He had better things to do than to dabble in such frivolity. 

What a stuck-up, one would say. What better things could Jeonghan be doing that puts him above everyone else? 

Oh, fucking the subject of the rumors of course. 

“How irritating,” Jeonghan sighed, abruptly ceasing his thrusts inside you to harshly yank you back by your hair. 

You yelp, a deer in the headlights, when your neck is forcibly craned back, made to look up at his looming figure. You looked pathetic from where you were pinned against the wall, exposed breasts pressed flush against the cool tiles and your mini skirt flipped upwards to reveal the swell of your bare ass flattened against his hip bone.

“I said to keep your voice down,” he tuts. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?” 

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer out, throat raw and chest heaving. 

“Are you?” He mused with a raised brow, mocking and unbelieving. 

You couldn’t meet his gaze, or at least you tried to. Jeonghan liked to make eye contact, he once told you, for he loved to see your sanity visibly ebb away from your eyes, leaving you a mindless, glassy-eyed whore. You had not reached that stage, not yet, not when some semblance of your being remained clear in your gaze, dilated pupils fearfully wavering back and forth between his simpering face and the bathroom door where a rather large, booming frat party laid beyond.

He cocked his head to the side and tightened his grip on your hair, forcing your eyes back on him. He leaned forward until he’s breathing your air, and all you could do is stare up at him pitifully with quivering lips. “Or…” he starts, his lips twisting cruelly. “Do you want them to hear you? Want them hear how good you’re being fucked right now?”

You remain silent, the lump on your throat bobbing as you swallow hard. But your walls tighten around him and Jeonghan couldn’t help the curve of his lips.

“You’re really weird, you know that?” Jeonghan sighed, releasing his hold on you. A lithe finger curls a lock behind your ear, the gesture jarringly affectionate from his prior cruelty, before his mouth moves to hover over it, his warm breath tickling. “You moan loudly when I tell you to shut up. You shut up when I ask you questions. Have I fucked you stupid already? Or have you always been stupid?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you know what to say?” Jeonghan laughs. “A renowned bitch, known to reject her admirers without so much of a second thought, now reduced into this pathetic bitch in heat. What would everyone else think, hm?”

His derogatory spats clamored down to your bones, making you shake with emotions that you couldn’t quite place with your hazed mind. At one point, with the last bit of pride you had left, you’re irritated, and it’s shown in the twitch of your eye and narrowed gaze. Then there’s embarrassment, shown by how your face warms and flushes. There was no denying how fucking dazed and desperate you had been, that much was true, and the demeaning tone of his voice did its job of filling you with shame. The twisted part of it all is that you enjoyed every minute of this ridicule thanks to pure, carnal desire. You couldn’t care less about what other people would say about you, what matters now is when the fuck would Jeonghan move his dick inside you. 

But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he wanted his answers. His last question was rhetoric. You knew. He knew. And yet he looks down at you with cruel expectancy masked in the sweetest, angelic smile that has fooled so many, and had once fooled you. 

“I-I don’t care,” you say, deciding to be honest. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”

“Oh, but I’d like to know,” Jeonghan said. He hums for a moment, looking you over in consideration, before speaking again. “But you’re right. They don’t matter right now, do they?” 

You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

And Jeonghan watched, amused. He wasn’t done speaking. “But I’d at least like to know what you think.”

You blinked. “What?”

Before you could question him some more, Jeonghan pulls out of you, leaving your weeping cunt fluttering around nothing. You cry out, high and broken, from having pleasure ripped away with such cruelty. Jeonghan ignores it and his own throbbing problem as he goes to peel you off the wall with a rough tug on your arm. He has you by over the sink, has you staring at yourself through the vanity mirror. Jeonghan casts a smile at you through the reflection, his gaze weighted as he drinks in the sight of you as well.

Jeonghan had to admit, the rumors weren’t all baseless. You were stunningly beautiful, there was no denying that when anyone with functioning eyes could see it. The way you carried yourself tells him you’re well aware of it too. You held confidence with a raised chin, an allure with your own posture and stance even in this vulnerable position you were forced in, looking as disheveled as you are with tufts of your hair sticking out in every direction, framing your flushed face. Your blouse had been carefully unbuttoned despite how desperately urgent you both had been for each other the moment the bathroom door shut closed, but the rush was evident in how your bralette had been roughly tugged down enough for your perked breasts to spill over. Jeonghan had been anything but kind to your skin, having left angry red splotches blossoming all over your chest; you weren’t either on his, knowing if Jeonghan had craned his neck enough from behind you, they’d find similar markings on his throat, though considerably less in quantity.

Jeonghan also looked considerably less damning. He had not made moves to remove any of his upper clothing and so he remained presentable with his black varsity over a loose white shirt. Even his long hair had not looked loosened from where it’s tied up. But below, away from the mirror’s sight, his dark jeans had been unbuttoned and unzipped for his curved dick to spring out freely, for it now to rub over your ass teasingly.

“So?” Jeonghan asks. “What do you think of yourself?”

You glare at him through the mirror. “Fucking awful.”

“Of course you’d see it that way,” he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “For me, I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”

It’s your turn to look unbelieving, but your pulse rouses. 

Jeonghan grinned. “Ask me why.”

You reluctantly indulge him, “Why?”

“Because you finally look fucking awful,” Jeonghan said cheerfully. You turn to glower at him but stop when he lifts a hand to trace a line over your chest, mapping out the marks adorning you with a nimble finger. “And because I’m the reason for it.”

“A little vain, don’t you think?” You remark, albeit breathily, your face heated.

“I can be proud of my work,” he quipped, pressing his smile against your skin. He looks you over once more, taking in every detail down to the last freckle, and something deep in him thrums sweetly. “And I had a beautiful canvas to begin with.”

“How charming,” you sighed, derisive, as you threw your head back against his shoulder so you could look at him with batting lashes. “Can you fuck me now?”

“But I mean it,” Jeonghan murmured and relented, reaching around you so he could press a roughened finger over your swollen clit.

 “Mean what?” You ask, but you’re barely listening, not when your focus is narrowed to the deft circles he’s making on your sweet nerves.

Jeonghan guides his length between your thighs, letting it glide languidly right under your weeping and throbbing cunt at a lazy pace. His lips are still curled, his eyes bright when he gazes down at you before he’s responding, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Sincerity was not something you’re used to when it came to the ever sarcastic Yoon Jeonghan, and yet here it was, bleeding into his tone in its purest form. Never in the entire three months of sleeping with him had he ever complimented the way he had just now, and if he had uttered any, it was quickly followed with ridicule or said with ridicule.

Good, he called you when you were obedient.

Cute, he called you when you were crying.

Beautiful. It was new. From him at least. 

It was a temporary moment of clarity in your lust-addled head as you blink at him, making sense of what he had said, making sense of the warmth that starts to bloom throughout your chest. And temporary it remained as Jeonghan led his cockhead right back to your entrance, pushing himself in without so much of a warning, and the bare grasp you had on lucidity loosened.

You gasp out loudly, doubling over the bathroom counter as your walls tense and quiver painfully from the sudden breach, but still yield around him nonetheless. Jeonghan was quick to catch you, to force you right back up with his long fingers encircling your throat. 

“Again?” Jeonghan barked out a laugh but it’s hoarse. “You really want everyone to hear you.”

“I c-can’t help it,” you whined, your head resting weakly against his shoulder, warm breath puffing over his marred skin. 

Jeonghan looked unimpressed. “Well, help it.”

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when he starts driving into you with no sense of leniency, your body thrown fully forward and voice shaking from the repeated impact that clatters your bones.

“You’re horrible at this,” he cackled. He grips at your hips this time, pulling you hard against him, balls slapping heavily against your ass. He's practically pulling and pushing your cunt onto his cock as if you weighed nothing, as if you were nothing but a cocksleeve for him to enjoy. Each decadent slide of his length in your heat draws out breathy grunts from him, his head drunk with pleasure.

You weren’t faring any better. Your head is thrown back to reveal flushed skin stained with tears that drip from closed eyes as you try desperately to hold yourself up with palms flat against the cold marble counter. There was nothing else for you to do but feel it, feel his cock stretch your pussy, its silken insides practically making way for him with each piston that has you crying out more in volume and pitch.

“Open your eyes.” His hot, staggered breath wafted over your ear. His thrusts ease its pace, slowing into something more languorous and teasing. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

You whine but your eyelids flutter open. Glassy, unfocused eyes find Jeonghan.

A devious smile splinters across his face. 

There you are.

“Please,” you whimper, your hand reaching to paw at his nape. 

“What is it, angel?” His tone is sweet but it rolls off his tongue sharply. “I n-need - ”

Jeonghan laughed cruelly. “I don’t think you’re in the position to demand something from me when you can’t even listen to my one demand.”

You grab at the ends of his hair and rock your hips back into him, fucking your cunt right on his dick in a faster, but struggling, rhythm. 

“Hannie,” you mewl. “You feel too good. Please, please, just fuck me. I can’t help it, I just - Please? I’ll b-be good. Just please fuck me, Hannie.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away to your pleas, allowing himself to revel in the broken desperation you display with an amused smile and delighted throbs made inside your velvety walls. Perhaps Jeonghan should be used to this sight now. He’s seen you in much messier and miserable states, ruined you far worse than he had now. And yet he’s plenty invigorated than he’s ever been, pure excitement searing his veins.

What would everyone else think, hm?

Jeonghan thought it was rhetoric. Jeonghan said it didn’t matter. 

It wasn’t. It did. 

“I don’t think you can be good,” he began as a hand inches forward between your legs, “But if you’re going to be loud, then at least use my name. That way, everyone will know who’s fucking you so good.”

“H-Hannie!” You mewl, oh so pitchy, as your frame jerks from the brush of the roughened pads of his fingers on your clit, pleasure flickering up your abdomen so wildly that you could not easily bear through it. 

“There we go,” he crooned, pride gleaming in his eyes. Jeonghan was much too familiar with your body by now, so it’s easy when his hips brings back its pace, fucking at your insides at an angle so the length of him glides over your sweet nerves with each impact. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob out like a mantra, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his brutality, your channel tightening around his throbbing girth. “Ngh, Jeonghan, right there! Oh my god - !”

The nectar that leaks out of you coated his shaft with an amazingly significant amount that makes the slides so much easier and louder, the wet noises bouncing off the four walls and meshing with your own cries of his name like he wanted. It was almost enough to drown out the muffled music of the party that seemed many worlds away now.

Jeonghan soon enough joined in this sinful chorus, letting out panted moans of his own. Some were incoherent but when it wasn’t, it was mostly your name, just in case everyone couldn’t tell who was screaming his name like a wailing prayer. How he’s managed to keep himself restrained and sane for this long was a strong feat in itself. Your everything put him in a trance, every touch of you—nails, fingers, and obviously your tight cunt, was a little too much, it was dizzying. 

Even at your seemingly waning state, your hips somehow finds itself moving back against him, undulating with the same force and rhythm. You’re driven by the tightness both in your chest and in your abdomen, white flashing across your vision the more you keep up your pace, your moan becoming more muddled as your thoughts were. And when balance fails you, having you bow back down and lean all your weight on your forearm, Jeonghan inclines with you, his chest pressed right against your back and you could feel his raging heartbeat that very well matched your own.

“How are you holding up, angel?” He chuckled and pressed his face against your neck, his breathing hard and warm on your skin, as his thrusts become more shallow. “Doing okay?”

“I-I’m close,” you whimper. “Please, Hannie - ”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered back as nails dig crescents on your waist, muscles flexing as the intensity of his strokes inside you extends once again and remains at the same tempo. He doesn’t know what came over him the next moment, his senses just completely overtaken and all he could do was be at awe at all this perfect bliss you’re bringing him, and only him. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathed. “I’m going to fucking ruin you for everyone, angel, you understand that? You’re mine.”

There it was again. The clarity. The warmth. It all happened in a single moment.

You turn your head and stare up at him. Jeonghan stared right back at you. A completely indecipherable expression confronts another.  

Where it had been temporary then, it intensified now. Where there had been questions, suspicions took its place. 

Then came fear.

Jeonghan catches a glimpse of it in your eyes and for the very first time, his stomach sank at the sight of it. 

But his facade is flawless. It comes too naturally before he’s fully aware—a sweet curl of lip, the faintest crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He’s fooled too many. He could fool you again. 

Jeonghan takes advantage of your moment of daze to toy once again with your clit, and is relieved at how immediate your body reacts. 

“Ngh, J-Jeonghan!” You keen high as you reach a hand to cup over to where his fingers flicks and pinches at the delicate bud, pressing down on him for added pressure to alleviate your own self. Oh, how embarrassingly easy it was for your thoughts to be completely overwritten by your own lustful desires, but as you have learned, it always prevails, doesn’t it? 

Your thighs seize up from the overwhelming pleasure crawling up your spine; while your rhythm falters from it, Jeonghan’s is relentless even when his own breathing turned ragged and his body strained from the effort. It all becomes so much so fast; the feverish heat spreads under your skin, tightening up coils in your abdomen, but your frame is trembling, as if a chill settled so deeply into your bones. 

“Hannie, Hannie, I’m going to -”

“I know,” Jeonghan grunts as his face falls in the juncture of your neck, lips pressed right over your pulse point. He can feel your walls start to restrict around his twitching girth, and it did little to aid his own self-control. “Let go for me, angel. C’mon. Let me hear you. Let them hear you.”

And you do. With the most shrilling wail, you come, your warm release spilling onto his cock and, much to your surprise, squirting onto themselves, their clothes, and his hand. 

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan marveled under his breath. If he could burn a memory into his brain, this would be fucking it. Just you shivering and quivering around his dick. Your back prettily arched back with tits hardened and perked. The fluids spurting all over yourself and him so shamelessly and so intensely until you're convulsing back down on your front from it all. 

Watching this whole brilliance of you, just reminded Jeonghan of how lucky he truly was to have you like this, to be able to make you this fucked out with crossed eyes, pupils blown wide out of proportion. Hidden concerns were washed away by this single glance, replaced with nothing but gratitude, pride, and true bliss. And with all that and a poorly thrown out warning, he’s thrown over the edge. A moan is punched out of his gut as he’s releasing inside you with one last valiant thrust, his cum white and hot as it spurts and paints your walls.

And poor you having to tolerate this continued abuse of your insides that pushes you close into the sphere of overstimulation. You’re spent, fatigue already ebbing into your consciousness, but you stay still for him, letting him use you for all your worth until the last few twitches of cock, until the last few spews of his cum is fucked back into you.

For the next few moments, only a dulled bass fills the air as two heaving bodies try to steady themselves. When the remnants of carnality wane, Jeonghan finally pulls out of you, your channel left with nothing but their shared release dripping out of you, beading down your legs. There’s a crack of a smile thrown your way through the reflection just as you feel a light tap made over your cunt. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the gesture. And to rock back into it.

“If I clean you up,” Jeonghan began, eyeing the puddle on the floor, “could you help me with the rest of your mess?”

Now you did roll your eyes. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Hey, I just thought I should ask. It’s a lot.” 

Your face warmed up. “Forget it, I’ll clean myself up. You clean the floor.” You move to lift yourself up from the counter, but catch yourself as your muscles start to strain, limbs shaking. 

Jeonghan raised a brow.

You winced. “Can you help me over to the toilet?”

 “Need to piss it all out again?” He jests and takes a hold of your arm to gently pick you up. 

You sneered. “That wasn’t piss, asshat.”

Jeonghan laughed. “I know it wasn’t. But it was hot as hell.”

“Shut the hell up.”

That only made him laugh again.

Then came a knock, a very aggressive one.

“Yoon Jeonghan, are you done fucking in there?” Said a male voice beyond the door, sounding just as irritated as his knock was. 

“Ah, damn,” Jeonghan muttered quietly to himself, then raised his voice at the door, “There are other bathrooms, Cheol!”

Choi Seungcheol, you now recognized Jeonghan’s fellow frat brother, responded right away. “All occupied! Can you hurry your shit up?”

“No!” said Jeonghan, but he’s quick to guide you over next to the toilet with an arm now encircling your waist; you tell yourself this was just a helpful gesture, but there’s no helping how your skin heats up under his touch. From where you stand leaning against the wall, you watch him rush around the bathroom, first cleaning himself up and shoving his dick back in his jeans before he throws a clean towel down on the floor to soak up your mess.

“I’ll leave first,” Jeonghan explained as he sauntered back to you with soap and another fresh towel in hand, setting them down where it’s within your reach. “I’ll appease Cheol first and buy you some time to clean up.”

“Is he always so impatient?” You asked.

“Always,” he sighed, “but once I explain, he’ll understand. I don’t know why he’s fussier than usual though.” 

“Maybe he needs to shit.”

“Shitting at a party? That’s disgusting of him.”

“He has no respect for the partygoers out there.”

You exchange grins with each other. 

Then another round of knocking came around.

“In a minute!” Jeonghan called back, trying to sound calm but his face was scowling. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you again, “Are you sure you don’t want any help? Now I just want to make him wait.”

“Go,” you tell him and wave him off. “He sounds like he’s about to kick the door open. I’d rather not have that.”

Jeonghan huffed a laugh at that. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Jeonghan turned to leave. Your heart lurched from your chest.

“Jeonghan?” You call out before you could stop yourself.

He looked back. “Hm?”

“Do we…” You didn’t know what to say, how to phrase it. “Should we talk about it?”

It was miniscule, but you caught his wince. “Talk about what?”

“About what you said?”

“Angel, I said a lot of things.”

“Don’t play stupid with me. You said - ”

Another loud knock, quickly followed by Seungcheol yelling. “Jeonghan! Hurry up!”

Jeonghan let out another sigh, a mix of annoyance with a tinge of relief. “We’ll have to talk about it another time.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Jeonghan - ”

“We will talk about it,” he said firmly, his tone spoke of sincerity, but his face said otherwise. “Just not now. Not yet.” 

You gave him a skeptical look. 

He tried for a smile, perfectly saccharine. You saw right through it.

“Fine,” you relented.

Jeonghan gave you a grateful nod of his head and made a move to leave again. You watch again with the strangest restriction in your chest.

“Cheol, you have got to learn patience,” Jeonghan said once he cracked the door open.

“And you have got to learn to be quiet,” the disembodied voice of Seungcheol parried back. “I’m sure the people passing the hallway could hear you both.”

“Well, we were trying to get the whole house to hear us.” Jeonghan spared a quick glance your way and grinned. You wanted to punch his teeth in.

Seungcheol groaned. “Of course you fucking were.”

Jeonghan laughed and finally stepped out of the bathroom. “At least I’m getting my dick wet. You haven’t been with anyone since - Oh, I spoke too soon. Cheol, you sneaky son of a - ”

The door shut closed behind him, leaving you all alone, and you buried your face in your hands.

© jeonghantis. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.

[allzelemonz]

Annoying: John Marston X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 3, Hate Sex Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Hate sex, anal fingering, anal sex, prostate massage, dirty talk, teasing, mentions of John’s situation with Abigail and Jack, Reader is an asshole, pre-Blackwater, violence, punching Summary: You’ve been sent on a scouting excursion with John to find a good spot closer to Blackwater, John is annoying through the whole ride.

It has been two hours. Walking along a barren trail with your tired horse and listening to the endless and constant complaining of John Marston. The man is undoubtedly irritating, wholly annoying. But Dutch picked you for scouting, so you to try to tune out that stupid scratch in his voice and focus on looking for a new spot closer to Blackwater.

“I just don’t get what her deal is.” John continues.

You feel the distinct desire to bash your head against your saddle horn. Maybe that would end this insufferable ride. Why couldn’t Dutch have picked Javier or Charles or someone quiet? At least Micah talks about interesting things on occasion. Bill can crack a joke. None of them have this apparent need to vent whilst riding.

“She just doesn’t-”

“Marston.” You groan. “Shut up, for the love of life itself. Just be quiet for once.”

“Oh, are my problems annoying you?”

“Yes, jeez, just shut it.”

He huffs, looking away to pout like a child.

“No one wants to hear about you and Abigail, the whole camp already has to listen to you go on and on about how the kid isn’t yours. No one cares.”

“Fuck off.” He mutters.

“I wish I could.”

There is a blissful minute of silence before he opens his mouth again. “You think he’s mine?”

“Fuck, Marston.” You sigh. “I have no clue, just shut the hell up.”

“He ain’t.” He mumbles. “Can’t be.”

“You won’t have to worry about it if you keep talking, because I’ll shoot you.”

“Why’re you always so damn irritable?”

“Because you annoy me to no end, Marston.”

You pull on your reins to move towards a clearing that looks promising, only slightly visible from the narrow path between trees. Finally sliding off your horse, you stretch your legs a little and look over the spot.

“How do I annoy you exactly?”

You rub at your eyes, feeling the ache forming behind them from having to listen to his voice. “In every possible way you could ever imagine.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“I’m not the one bothering other people with my problems.”

“At least I find the time to bring money in instead of lounging around camp all damn day!”

That, now that, brings a twinge of much more than annoyance to buzz around in your head. Not only have you been bringing in consistent money since you joined, you just pulled a job with Mac and Davey that scored the camp funds upwards of eight-hundred dollars. So, naturally, you punch John in the face for suggesting otherwise.

“Shit.” He mutters, recoiling and tackling you to the ground.

You roll for a while, exchanging punches and losing your hats along the way until you find yourself atop John. You sit across his thin torso, your fist curled into his shirt as the other stands ready to lay another blow. But, John, he goes still, as if he’s afraid to move. For all the scrapping and talk, you know you’re not scary enough to make him freeze like this so you lower your raised fist and look over your shoulder. You half expect to see lawmen or O’Driscolls or something, but it’s just the forest and the horses grazing by the trees.

“What’s your problem, Marston?” You ask, shifting slightly on him.

Then you feel it, barely brushing against the back of your thigh as you move. John Marston is hard in his pants from being beaten up by a man that hates him. His face flushes and he claws at your arm, but you just push him down harder into the grass. Your mind races for a moment, thinking of the roads you could take. You hate the man quite a bit, but you’d be a fool to deny he’s attractive and something in the back of your mind is begging you to find out what that raspy voice sounds like when it’s full of want.

“We tell no one.” You mutter, giving John a threatening look.

John’s chest moves slow as he processes, then he nods quickly. You lean down and connect your lips, catching the taste of tobacco and the scruff of his stubble. John’s hands find your hips, urging you down to grind against you but you resist.

“You’re not in charge here, Marston.” You murmur against his lips. “You just lay still and let me use you, understand?”

His eyes dart around yours quickly as his face gets redder by the second. “Y-Yeah.”

You move down to unfasten his pants and as he kicks them off, you fish a tube of gun oil from your pocket. It has always been a suspicion of yours that John gets around more than he lets on, and it is all but confirmed by the way he stuffs his pants under his hips and spreads his legs.

“You some kind of whore on the side, Marston?” You ask, fixing yourself between his open legs. “That why you got on with Abigail, a shared profession?”

“Shut up.” He mutters.

He intends to say more but you cut him off easily by inserting your slicked fingers without warning. His back arches, pressing into the feeling as he chokes on a bit of air that turns into a whimper. You’re not going to give him the time to rest or adjust, he doesn’t deserve it after talking all day. So you crook your fingers, running them along until his hips jolt from the contact. Then you focus and focus hard, pressing into that nice sensitive spot inside of him until he can’t even speak to warn you. He releases across his stomach, his softening dick untouched.

His head lulls to the side as he catches his breath and you slip your fingers out. You move as fast as you can, not wanting to hear any of his protests about being sensitive. He’d whine about it, you know he would, so you grip his hips and press inside in the midst of his recovery. John chokes on air again, muttering as he covers his red face with his arm. Only one eye peaks out at you as you start your pace and you ignore it, focusing on the act rather than the who. If you don’t think about it being John, the image of your dick disappearing inside such a nice ass and the feeling of gripping such a slim waist make you groan to yourself. If it were any other man, you’d praise him for feeling so good.

John, however, does not have that control. “God, you’re… fuck you’re good.”

It’s the moan that gets you, raspy just like you imagined, and completely wanton. You double your effort because that sound was so good for something that came from John of all people. And, to your delight, it happens again. As you slam into him, your balls bouncing enough to truly earn the nickname, John begins to pant. Your eyes are drawn to his dick as he reaches for it and stops it from slapping against his stomach. His hand wraps around and pumps in time with you.

You lean down a bit, enough to speak over John’s lewd noises. “You better get yourself off before me, Marston. I’m not helping you otherwise.”

He groans, seemingly all too happy to be treated like nothing but something to fuck in the grass of the gang’s next camp spot. You watch his hand, your eyes flicking down to watch your own fucking on occasion. Both are such a sight. John cums again, spilling a little on his hand this time. The sound he makes, such a shaky and raspy guttural moan, hits the right things for you and sends you right over. You slow your thrusts, milking yourself before burying deep inside of him.

It takes a few minutes before your muscles respond and you can pull out to rest back on your knees. John still has a haze in his eyes, his arms splayed out as his chest heaves. You let yourself relish the sight, forgetting only for a moment that you hate him, then you pick up the tube of gun oil from the grass and pull on your pants. A one time thing, albeit a great one, with such an annoying man.

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu OVA - Book 2, Ush [PART 8]

He looks so confused 😭

Brother, they are about to beat you to death?

FDJGDLFKJJDFKLGJLKDSFGDLSFHGSDJLHBVUJHNDGUVOHZNSERJGHSJKDFHNGJDFGDFAG

Ush during training: "You should keep shooting in one direction and getting his attention and he will never see anything coming from the other side. It will probably work. I mean, he is stupid."

Since the next fight-scene goes by very fast, I want to pick through it very thoroughly:

Kerubim standing so shyly and unsurely in face of a confrontation. While Atcham looks so cool...

(I love this OVA so much it's unreal.)

Ush immediately goes for Kerubim, and while Atcham dodges immediately, Kerubim freezes up — doding not a second too late. He's really out of practice, man...

After spooking Kerubim with his direct attempt to hit him, he switches to Atcham instead.

Atcham reflects a strike of his sword and attempts to kick him, but it backfires because Ush uses this opening to hit his leg with a sword.

Kerubim uses this opening to try and deliver what seems to be a pretty strong punch to Ush. Notably, Ush actually looks worried about this, before he is able to block the attack — and pissed afterwards. Also, the impact of the punch seems to push him just slightly.

Yes, Kerubim is out of practice, but I am a of the opinion that if he did manage to punch Ush, it would hurt. Badly.

Just like Joris, for every single cool thing he does, he has to atone by being beaten up.

I'm a bit insane about Atcham attacking him once more the second Kerubim is down.

Ush blocks the attack, as is expected, and then Atcham blocks Ush's counter-attack, while Kerubim catches himself and tries to recover from being punched.

And while Atcham does block the attack, it throws him off balance, right at the moment when Kerubim begins to attack once more.

As is expected, he dodges. AND kicks him in the head/the neck.

Not going to lie... He's kinda right. 😭

So mean to him for something he can't control. </3

Not every demigod stops aging at a normal age. Some people are Kerubim or Mishelle, and are tied to some very unfortunate ages.... Some people are in hell of either perpetual back aches or never being able to buy a beer, Ush....

He is trying to be so brave about losing one of his lives to Ush. He's literally so "it's jojover" about this situation. It's crazy.

I am INSANE and emotional about this, by the way.

Atcham used to hate him so much for everything that happened between them when they were kids that he wanted to kill and make him into a fur coat.

Now he jokes about having wanted to make him into a fur coat in the past, and risks his own lives to protect him.

I think to this day, Kerubim is a little bit in awe when Atcham protects or shields him. It's probably hard to believe their relationship really blossomed this much...

Considering the life Atcham has led until the Dofus movie, I think he feels anxious when things are good. I think he can't just not train, just in case something bad happens and the other shoe drops.

Considering the life they still lead, he's 100% right and justified for always wanting to be prepared, even when they agree on taking a break from adventuring, or slowing down.

More importantly: He's worried about Kerubim. I'm gpoing to walk into the sea.

[cloudyyoimiya]

Hello, this is my first time requesting so sorry if im vague or awkward with this but i saw your Chuuya & Dazai with Arleechino!Reader, and i wanted to ask if i could have a Chuuya & Dazai with a Columbina!Reader??? thank you for looking at this <3333

don’t worry you aren’t vague or awkward! and yes, ofc i’ll do that! i love how columbina and arlecchino are polar opposites. this request makes me so happy! thank you for requesting!! <3

With a S/o Like Columbina from Genshin; PM!Osamu Dazai and Chuuya Nakahara

Format: Headcanons and scenario

Possible warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, tooth rotting fluff in the scenario

Starting off, you’d be the backbone of the relationship in a sense. Each time the two of them fought, you’d have to be there to calm them down. If they won’t listen to your soft words, then they’ll have to listen to your actions, and they both hate it when that happens…

Considering that Columbina is a harbinger, let’s say that you’re a top ranking mafia executive. How you managed to achieve this feat is up to you.

Your ability to be uncaring and seemingness to be oblivious to what’s happening around you is what drew in Dazai. He thought that you were just acting like this to not rouse any suspicion your way, and some of that was the truth. You were nice to him, and he didn’t expect that.

After all, evil expects evil.

When he first started to realize that this is how you truly were, he started to fall for you.

Chuuya fell for you because he also liked how kind you were to certain people. He of course was one of these people as time moved on.

If you happen to sing like Columbina, then Chuuya would fall harder. He himself loves music, so if he ever hears your singing he’d be mesmerized. He couldn’t put into words how much he loves it.

How you got into a relationship with them wouldn’t be easy, but it would be manageable.

Chuuya was the first to confess his love, then Dazai butted in and confessed as well. You, being the tenderhearted person you were, accepted both of their feelings rather easily. You obviously loved the both of them, and you could tell that they could at least tolerate each other, so why choose only one? It was the only logical thing to do in your book.

Occasionally one of them would come home injured and you’d tend to their wounds, even if they insisted that they were fine. You absolutely hated the sight of them beaten and bloodied.

All in all, a relationship with them wouldn’t be all that bad.

Scenario…

Sunlight slowly creeped in through the windows as you started to wake up. You could hear faint bird chirping outside, specifically a morning dove, alongside the sound of cars rushing to their jobs, as if they were running late.

You opened your eyes slowly, not wanting to get immediately blinded by the bright light provided by the sun. Once you did this, you noticed that your two boyfriends were laying on you, side by side. Dazai was on your right and Chuuya was on your left. A smile slowly crept onto your face as you stared at their sleeping faces.

Bored, you started to hum a simple melody. You didn’t want to get up and run the risk of waking the two up, so you decided to hum as a means to keep yourself entertained.

Slowly Chuuya was the first to wake up. He sleepily looked up at you, his face mellow. “Your humming is beautiful.”

You looked down at him and smiled. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No.” He then yawned. “But you should know that humming could wake up Dazai. You’re so oblivious that it almost hurts.”

You could tell that Chuuya was joking around. He always had a certain glint in his eye when he joked, and he had that glint in his eye as of then.

“Hmm… I think I’ll keep humming. I have nothing better to do,” you smiled.

After a few minutes, Dazai started to wake up to the sound of your humming. He gave you a questionable glance as he looked up at you. “Isn’t it too early for your singing?”

“It’s not singing, it’s humming,” Chuuya butted in. “Get it right dimwit.”

“Hey I just woke up! Pardon my mistake!” Dazai rebutted.

You lightly chuckled and their antics. “Isn’t it a little too early to start your bickering?”

Chuuya only rolled his eyes and Dazai huffed. You could barely manage to tell if they were being playful or not.

“C’mon, let’s get ready for the day,” you eventually said after a little while of silence.

“We have the day off, (Name),” Dazai spoke up.

“We do?”

“We do,” Chuuya confirmed. “How did you manage to forget?”

“Being a mafia executive must be the only thing on their mind, Chuuya. Be more open and considerate!” Dazai said sarcastically.

“Why you…!”

“You two, stop it,” you sigh. “I’m not gonna spend my day off with you two deafening me. Be nice, will you?”

The two of them rolled their eyes in sync.

“You know you love us,” Dazai said in a sing-song voice.

“That I do… Let’s just stay in bed for a little longer, hm?”

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 20: I SIT ON THE HOT SEAT

Annabeth sighed softly as she leaned into Percy's side, ignoring Alex's jokes of Percy being thrown in a pot of soup or something. He threw his arm over her at once to have her closer with the same troubled frown only easing slightly. Her eyes stayed uncomprehending upon the new chapter title as the coming funerals lingered in her mind.

She tried to push the image away with Silena smiling up at Beckendorf. She'd grin at Annabeth finally getting her silent wish of this moment. The daughter of Aphrodite had been the best of her mother, she always smiled no matter what was going on when she'd seen someone being happy in love, and she tried to keep that thought close as she took a shaky breath to start.

"What were you thinking?" Clarisse cradled Silena's head in her lap.

Silena tried to swallow, but her lips were dry and cracked. "Wouldn't . . . listen. Cabin would . . . only follow you."

Alex had, mixed feelings about that. Loyalty wasn't something she was familiar with. Blind loyalty sounded absurd in every way.

And yet...it sounded kind of nice too. To have someone so wholeheartedly believe in you...only you...

"So you stole my armor," Clarisse said in disbelief. "You waited until Chris and I went out on patrol; you stole my armor and pretended to be me." She glared at her siblings. "And NONE of you noticed?"

"Yeah, kinda with Clarisse on that one," Thalia grumbled as she adjusted her hood. Had Silena given a rousing speech? Surely she'd pulled the cabin together somehow, long enough for her own siblings to notice something was amiss. They all weren't that dense! She wouldn't be surprised to learn if Clarisse had beaten them all to a pulp not long after.

...but, well, the thought did cross her mind it was more than likely the Ares kids had wanted to come all along. They might have followed a puppet if someone had put a nice boar helmet on it.

It bothered her a bit, that her first instinct would rather the ones who wanted to be there should have ignored their head and snuck out...but then when Silena arrived to pull this ruse Clarisse never would have followed and blasted the drakon. They might not have won at all. She could feel her father's powerful blue eyes spark with joy somewhere in the back of her mind as she understood what he must always feel as a god. Sacrifice from others that lead to his own victory. It made her feel miserable.

The Ares campers developed a sudden interest in their combat boots.

"Making sure none of that monster dust got in their socks," Magnus nodded in understanding.

Alex called him an idiot in ASL, which was a nice change of pace. He had no regrets teaching her that.

"Don't blame them," Silena said. "They wanted to . . . to believe I was you."

Something that had been mentioned a lot these past days, Jason frowned. Wanting to hope, wanting to believe something even if you knew not to deep down it wasn't true. The idea was a cold, icy feeling he knew all to well, the kind that when it thawed out he wasn't sure what he was going to be left with. It was unpleasant, nauseating even, but almost exciting too to find out what was going to be beneath it all.

"You stupid Aphrodite girl," Clarisse sobbed. "You charged a drakon? Why?"

"All my fault," Silena said, a tear streaking the side of her face. "The drakon, Charlie's death . . . camp endangered—"

"Stop it!" Clarisse said. "That's not true."

Silena opened her hand. In her palm was a silver bracelet with a scythe charm, the mark of Kronos.

Percy stiffened painfully as his mind splintered with understanding. He'd known there was a spy for so long, had hated and loathed this unknown face ruining so much...it felt impossible to reconcile all of that with Silena Beauregard. The two wouldn't mash together. Like someone had told him Annabeth was the spy. It didn't compute with the person he'd known.

He waited for the betrayal, for the anger to catch up with him, but he just felt tired. As he thought about Micheal, and Beckendorf, and all the other campers over the years he and Silena had both known, that he and Silena had both had a hand in their deaths. Two sides of the same coin.

With a cold, heavy heart, it wasn't hard for his imagination to cook up the idea he and Silena even could have switched places this day. If Luke had never told him it was his plan, his shoes that had nearly dragged Grover away, Percy would have been none the wiser. Luke could have stuck around camp, kept whispering in Percys' ears thoughts that still floated about to this day of how wretched the gods were and all the horrible things they'd done. He was just a manipulative prick like that who snared up everyone.

The chips had fallen where they did though, and he brushed that aside to instead settle a scowl into place he didn't feel. He was left wondering where her loyalties had gone. He wanted to hate her, wanted to think she'd just been trying to lead more kids to their death with this scheme...but it just didn't match the fact that she'd charged a drakon! She could have sent them on ahead if that was the plan!

A cold fist closed around my heart. "You were the spy."

Silena tried to nod. "Before . . . before I liked Charlie, Luke was nice to me. He was so . . . charming. Handsome. Later, I wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell. He promised . . . he promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt. He told me he wouldn't hurt . . . Charlie. He lied to me."

Annabeth read that...gods she read that with understanding! With hurt and pain, and sympathy all at once!

Thalia wanted to shake her and ask if she was nuts! She knew she couldn't have gotten through that without gritted teeth and having to pinch her own side to stop from breaking down crying in frustration of what Luke had done to yet another person.

I met Annabeth's eyes. Her face was chalky. She looked like somebody had just yanked the world out from under her feet.

She never would have believed that Luke would threaten someone like that until she heard it from Silena's dying lips. Percy had never felt more blue that she finally did.

Behind us, the battle raged.

Clarisse scowled at her cabinmates. "Go, help the centaurs. Protect the doors. GO!"

They scrambled off to join the fight.

Silena took a heavy, painful breath. "Forgive me."

Will swallowed a painful lump in the back of his throat and was glad nobody was going around the room demanding to know if they all had. He'd have said yes, now. With time passing and the hurt easing as he stopped drowning every day after, learning to float in the misery of how empty his cabin was when he went home. He wasn't good at holding onto resentment. He just hadn't cried at Silena's funeral.

Annabeth instantly had, she thought Percy had too, but there was a troubled look on his face she didn't like to see now. He still had his fingers linked with hers, but his other hand was fiddling with his pen again like all he wanted to do was walk off and charge into battle. He liked to blame Luke for everything, and she'd finally been forced to see Percy had been right. Hopefully, that's all this anger was.

"You're not dying," Clarisse insisted.

"Charlie . . ." Silena's eyes were a million miles away. "See Charlie . . ."

She didn't speak again.

Jason shivered as he imagined her sightless eyes. The child of Venus hadn't been much of a notable figure in Percy's life before this moment. A pretty girl with a friendly boyfriend.

That day with the mermeks though had already shown she could have been more if Percy had ever spent time with her. Silena's determination to save Beckendorf had been the admirable stuff leaders were made of.

Sonder, the realization that a random passerby was living a life as vivid and complex as your own. They'd spent so long now focused on Percy's life that it felt like a slam in the face to fully realize what this girl had been going through entirely in the background of everything they'd been hearing.

Clarisse held her and wept. Chris put a hand on her shoulder.

Finally Annabeth closed Silena's eyes.

"We have to fight." Annabeth's voice was brittle. "She gave her life to help us. We have to honor her."

Clarisse sniffled and wiped her nose. "She was a hero, understand? A hero."

Magnus was used to living in a world of gray. Of knowing better than many a teenager just why people did what they did to be in a sleeping bag under the bridge, of watching it happen from the shadows. He wasn't going to sit around and try to engage the right and wrong of all that had gone on during this mess. People died every day for choices they'd made and decisions they'd been given no alternative out of. He just wished someone out there had a happy ending.

I nodded. "Come on, Clarisse."

Annabeth wasn't sure she wanted to move on for a moment. That she even wanted to hear Percy's thoughts reflecting on this during the rest of the battle. She'd made peace with what Silena had done, but Percy might have a tendency to lean into it as fuel for the slash of his sword.

But Percy sat next to her, maybe a little to calm and put together as his miserable face watched the book. She sighed as she pressed on when he showed no signs of stopping her. He always reminded her of a glass building. Structurally sound, of course, but with nothing to hide inside. He'd never made a single bereft of them hearing every stray thought that crossed his mind.

She picked up a sword from one of her fallen siblings. "Kronos is going to pay."

"Ooooh, yeah," Alex drawled out in an amorous tone for the violence about to take place. Gods she wished she could hug Clairsse right now for the visual stimuli about to take place!

The idea that this was all for a traitor mused quietly in the back of her mind. She knew exactly who her mother was in her world, how she'd be received by anyone of Norse descendants, though she'd never come across another like her before now. She suspected Magnus was only because of Hearth, and he was an innocent white lily to pure to grasp how that's what he should see her as even if she did decide to tell him.

Traitor, the word lingered in the back of her mind as she focused sharply on Clarisse and her crusade to rip every monster a new one for what they'd done for her friend. It was probably as close to redemption as she- Silena of course, would ever get.

I'd like to say I drove the enemy away from the Empire State Building. The truth was Clarisse did all the work. Even without her armor or spear, she was a demon. She rode her chariot straight into the Titan's army and crushed everything in her path.

She was so inspiring, even the panicked centaurs started to rally. The Hunters scrounged arrows from the fallen and launched volley after volley into the enemy. The Ares cabin slashed and hacked, which was their favorite thing. The monsters retreated toward 35th Street.

Clarisse drove to the drakon's carcass and looped a grappling line through its eye sockets. She lashed her horses and took off, dragging the drakon behind the chariot like a Chinese New Year dragon.

Will hated that thing so much. She'd taken it back to camp and put it up in the forest, her cabin often using it during capture the flag to terrify the opponents. Alex had no idea how close to true her jokes were about chasing kids around with a fake drakon for practice, because sometimes the Stolls really did do that. If he didn't have a heart attack every time he saw it, he would have buried it by now.

She charged after the enemy, yelling insults and daring them to cross her. As she rode, I realized she was literally glowing. An aura of red fire flickered around her.

"The blessing of Ares," Thalia said. "I've never seen it in person before."

Alex's laugh was chaotic and quickly drew the others in. It was an ability she proudly used whenever given the chance, and she even sort of hoped that if Oceanus heard it somewhere he at least chuckled a little too.

For the moment, Clarisse was as invincible as I was. The enemy threw spears and arrows, but nothing hit her.

"I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON-SLAYER!" she yelled. "I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?"

"Clarisse!" I yelled. "Stop it. Withdraw!"

"What's the matter, Titan lord?" she yelled. "BRING IT ON!"

There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. The twohundred-foot-long drakon carcass made a hollow scraping noise against the pavement, like a thousand knives.

Meanwhile,

"There is nothing you could follow that up with!" Jason declared. "Unless the gods themselves show up out of the blue, there is no meanwhile, anyways, or also that could top that Percy!"

"I'm sorry my life dosen't revolve around her, I had other things going on," Percy said with a slightly wounded look Clarisse of all people had somehow overtaken his life. He couldn't even be that offended, it really was awesome.

we tended our wounded, bringing them inside the lobby.

"Important enough?" Will mock sniffled into an invisible handkerchief.

"Yeah, yeah, we all know you're a hero too Will, don't rub it in," Jason sighed for his outburst. He'd known it was going to bite him in the ass when he did it.

Long after the enemy had retreated from sight, Clarisse kept riding up and down the avenue with her horrible trophy, demanding that Kronos meet her battle.

Chris said, "I'll watch her. She'll get tired eventually. I'll make sure she comes inside."

"That is easily one of the top five bravest guys around camp though," Will shook his head in exhaustion at the mere idea. Nico was a kitten in comparison to the beast of a task in trying to convince Clarisse La Rue to do such a thing as get tired and come inside.

"What about the camp?" I asked. "Is anybody left there?"

Chris shook his head. "Only Argus and the nature spirits. Peleus the dragon is still guarding the tree."

Magnus was rather proud of himself he didn't shiver in dread, after that drakon it really didn't sound as bad, but he was still pretty confident he was the only one thinking that was still bad enough.

"They won't last long," I said. "But I'm glad you came."

Chris nodded sadly. "I'm sorry it took so long. I tried to reason with Clarisse. I said there's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here. I'm sorry it took Silena . . ."

"My Hunters will help you stand guard," Thalia said.

"Yeah, not much you can say to that," Jason nodded for his sister. Interrupting awkward silence was the best anybody could do.

"I'm back a few sentences trying to figure out what other friends Chris was talking about her having," Will really sounded odd when he purposefully tried to sound sarcastic. Like a kid at a play having just read his lines. His eyes got so big.

Nico chuckled and patted his hand for the stilted humor anyways.

"Annabeth and Percy, you should go to Olympus. I have a feeling they'll need you up there—to set up the final defense."

The doorman had disappeared from the lobby. His book was facedown on the desk and his chair was empty.

"Well now Percy has no choice but to win this war," Magnus said with a tragic expression. "Can you imagine anything more painful than not being able to finish a book you started?"

Alex chuckled but shook her head. "He might have just gone to the bathroom and he'll be back at his post any second, don't be so dramatic."

"Or maybe it wasn't even a good book, they can't all be best sellers," Annabeth grinned.

Magnus scoffed at the pair making light of this.

The rest of the lobby, however, was jam-packed with wounded campers, Hunters, and satyrs.

Connor and Travis Stoll met us by the elevators.

"Is it true?" Connor asked. "About Silena?"

I nodded. "She died a hero."

Travis shifted uncomfortably. "Um, I also heard—"

"That's it," I insisted. "End of story."

Jason was a bit surprised at Percy. He'd have thought, given his track with people holding information over his head, Percy would go around telling the whole story of the traitor and what happened, not just the final result.

But then, Percy's loyalty had always been with his camp since the day he woke up there. He might not have admitted it or even instantly realized it, between the shunning and shoving from cabin to cabin and his mom's absence hovering over him every day, but Silena Beauregard had made a sacrifice that had bought his camp family enough time to live through another battle.

"Right," Travis mumbled. "Listen, we figure the Titan's army will have trouble getting up the elevator. They'll have to go up a few at a time. And the giants won't be able to fit at all."

"Can you even imagine the determination it must take if they had to use the stairs?" Will asked in horror. His thighs were screaming in pain at just the thought.

"Kronos might have won that day if so. Only the bravest would make it to the top," Percy said with a begrudging look at the book for only a Titan with that level of determination making it up there.

He might not have been one of them.

"That's our biggest advantage," I said. "Any way to disable the elevator?"

"It's magic," Travis said. "Usually you need a key card, but the doorman vanished. That means the defenses are crumbling. Anyone can walk into the elevator now and head straight up."

"Was the doorman secretly the keycard all along?" Alex asked with interest as she narrowed her eyes at the book in thought. "Was he handing out bits of his essence?"

"Ew," Percy frowned at her as he rubbed his palm against his jeans.

"More symbolic of him abandoning his post causing weaker defense," Will offered instead. He had been just a mortal after all. A mortal granted an immortal gift.

"Then we have to keep them away from the doors," I said. "We'll bottle them up in the lobby."

"What are we calling this strategy?" Jason asked Annabeth. "Genie in a bottle? Message in a bottle?"

"Bottleneck," Annabeth grinned in delight at someone asking her. Percy grumbled to himself for a moment he would have asked too if he hadn't been so busy, but she just grinned and kissed the back of his hand before continuing so he quickly let the thought go.

"We need reinforcements," Travis said. "They'll just keep coming. Eventually they'll overwhelm us."

"There are no reinforcements," Connor complained.

It was so rare to hear the Stolls being so, serious. Will had shivered as he heard them whispering while visiting some of their siblings in beds about injuries and man power, rather than the usual of whose soda can to shake up and put back. His crush on Connor had been at an all time high as he glanced over at him, but the son of Hermes hadn't even seemed to notice he was in the same room as he went over to check on Katie's fading concussion.

Ah well, he'd always hoped the two would stay happy together, he smiled to himself now without the touch of bitterness it had once held.

I looked outside at Mrs. O'Leary, who was breathing against the glass doors and smearing them with hellhound drool.

There was a nice moment of gentle laughter all through the circular room for that descriptor. Magnus was shocked at himself for it, but it felt nice too, to think next time he saw a dog on the street he might not flinch at the sight of it if he kept her in his mind.

"Maybe that's not true," I said.

I went outside and put a hand on Mrs. O'Leary's muzzle. Chiron had bandaged her paw, but she was still limping. Her fur was matted with mud, leaves, pizza slices, and dried monster blood.

"Bath time," Percy chuckled. It's a good thing he was water proof, because he might never be dry again afterwords. "You game Alex?"

"Any day," she savored with a laugh of her own. The county might be out of pink scrub brushes when she was done, but it would be worth it.

"Hey, girl." I tried to sound upbeat. "I know you're tired, but I've got one more big favor to ask you."

I leaned next to her and whispered in her ear.

After Mrs. O'Leary shadow-traveled away,

"You would just gloss over that," Jason muttered in betrayal. "We could call this Percy Jackson and- Anyways!"

"Couldn't even be mad at the title," Percy nodded. "Very on brand for how my mind works."

"Should I even bother wasting breath asking what you asked her to do?" Magnus sighed.

"You can waste hand motions, it would do the same amount of good," Percy said with an impish grin. They both knew he'd play the 'my head hurts' card if they kept pushing this.

"You're a jerk, there, no breath wasted," Magnus smirked.

I rejoined Annabeth in the lobby. On the way to the elevator, we spotted Grover kneeling over a fat wounded satyr.

Thalia had been a tad embarrassed to admit she'd been surprised to hear he'd even fought. Some of the Hunters had gotten a bit excited when they heard a lord of the wild had shown up to help, but she'd quickly snapped away that hope by just waving off it was some useless satyr who would probably just stand around yelling insults that weren't even going to make someone pause.

She'd been wrong, and she'd admitted that during the goodbye ceremonies. She hoped her father heard it too.

"Leneus!" I said.

The old satyr looked terrible. His lips were blue. There was a broken spear in his belly, and his furry goat legs were twisted at a painful angle.

Will had made notes on each person's file what had happened to them. Morbid curiosity, details he could share with family, some way to counter act the ailement in the future, or a mix of it all had made this a habit since his first day.

He had been, empty, at how many folders were left blank that day. Nobody had seen what had happened to Leneus to sustain such injuries same as a lot of bodies that day. To many monsters, not enough people to watch each other's backs.

He tried to focus on us, but I don't think he saw us.

"Grover?" he murmured.

Alex opened her mouth, the crude comment on the tip of her tongue the old lump wanted to insult Grover one last time, but it felt crass. She'd at least hear his dying words before she tore him one last insult.

"I'm here, Leneus." Grover was blinking back tears, despite all the horrible things Leneus had said about him.

He had such a big heart, Annabeth smiled, wishing she could put her hand on his shoulder again like she had. She'd seen it every day while he was guiding them through the streets, a smile appearing at every weed that appeared through the cracks in the sidewalk. Every day at camp when he answered every question she had with only some mild anxiety and tugging at the fur on his legs. He'd grown so much.

They all had after this really.

"Did . . . did we win?"

"Um . . . yes," Grover lied. "Thanks to you, Leneus. We drove the enemy away."

"He's always been such a terrible liar," Percy's chuckle sounded a tad watery. Whatever. Son of Posideon. He'd seen a lot of crap those past few days. Nobody was dumb enough to mention it.

"Told you," the old satyr mumbled. "True leader. True . . ."

There was a blurry, nice, delusional moment where Magnus could pretend that Leneaus was talking about Grover. That it was his way of apologizing for all the miserable days he'd put that kid through.

He wasn't naive enough to belive it. He just wanted to.

He closed his eyes for the last time.

Grover gulped. He put his hand on Leneus's forehead and spoke an ancient blessing. The old satyr's body melted, until all that was left was a tiny sapling in a pile of fresh soil.

"A laurel," Grover said in awe. "Oh, that lucky old goat."

He gathered up the sapling in his hands. "I . . . I should plant him. In Olympus, in the gardens."

"Can he just, do that?" Jason tried not to look at the book distastefully.

Thalia still gave her little brother a pitiful look he still might respect any authority figure after all they'd heard in here. If anybody said a word to Grover about where he wanted to plant someone even mildly important to him, Percy would shut it down faster than the shovel went through the dirt.

"We're going that way," I said. "Come on."

Easy-listening music played as the elevator rose.

"Which just went so well with the mood I'm sure," Nico muttered at all of their haggard forms slumped against the rails in exhaustion. Like a Greek freeze frame in modern times. Casual Tragic.

I thought about the first time I'd visited Mount Olympus, back when I was twelve. Annabeth and Grover hadn't been with me then. I was glad they were with me now. I had a feeling it might be our last adventure together.

"Not one of your gut feelings though," Jason noted with interest, though Grover wasn't in here now so the exclusion might prove Percy right all the same.

"I'm not trusting the thing to win me the lottery, let alone this," Percy said with a tired smile. A part of him, a very large part, hoped it was true. That somewhere Grover was out there kicking it with Juniper frolicking in the forest while he and Annabeth sorted this out to get back and have a nice, peaceful life.

But considering where they were...and how they were nearing the end and he still wasn't even sure what the outcome of all this was...yeah. Jason was probably right he should trust his gut's lack of reaction on this case.

"Percy," Annabeth said quietly. "You were right about Luke." It was the first time she'd spoken since Silena Beauregard's death. She kept her eyes fixed on the elevator floors as they blinked into the magical numbers: 400, 450, 500.

It wasn't a very wild guess to think she wasn't actually seeing those numbers. Or maybe they were marking all the other times she'd been wrong in her head about him. Thalia sighed and wished Annabeth was still young enough she could hug her until the problems melted from her shoulders.

Annabeth just cleared her throat and brushed her hair out of her face before continuing with the same stoic expression she'd started this with. They all knew she hated saying those words, let alone twice.

Grover and I exchanged glances.

"Annabeth," I said. "I'm sorry—"

"You tried to tell me." Her voice was shaky. "Luke is no good. I didn't believe you until . . . until I heard how he'd used Silena. Now I know. I hope you're happy."

"Why would that make me happy?" Percy asked quietly.

She gave a listless shrug. "Being right about something makes me happy." She was still getting a handle on how that worked for Percy. So far she'd narrowed it down to blue food, (something sacred between him and his mom she didn't partake in much after their anniversary) and her.

At least they were still figuring it out together.

"That doesn't make me happy."

She put her head against the elevator wall and wouldn't look at me.

Thalia swallowed at the distance she still felt between them. She should have had her head on his shoulder now like at the start, but instead she had suddenly needed both hands on the book as Percy watched her sadly without protest. This still felt like an unresolved conversation she was standing in the middle of that neither knew how to approach. She'd always thought Annabeth talked to Percy about everything, but suddenly she wasn't so sure. Gabe? His constant doubts about her feelings? There was plenty she'd been witness to down here.

Grover cradled his laurel sapling in his hands. "Well . . . sure good to be together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look. It's our floor."

"Someone get Grover a plasma knife already the way he cuts through you two's tension," Alex chuckled.*

"I hate every implication in that sentence," Percy sighed.

"A plasma knife would just cauterize a wound instantly, so it wouldn't make a very good weapon," Will shrugged.

"It is if you want to torture someone," Nico corrected.

"Why would you stab someone with a knife that can make toast?" Magnus protested.

"I'd use a toaster as a weapon any day," Alex scoffed at his naivety.

"Off. Track." Thalia oh so patiently reminded.

The doors dinged and we stepped onto the aerial walkway.

Depressing is not a word that usually describes Mount Olympus, but it looked that way now. No fires lit the braziers. The windows were dark. The streets were deserted and the doors were barred. The only movement was in the parks, which had been set up as field hospitals. Will Solace and the other Apollo campers scrambled around, caring for the wounded. Naiads and dryads tried to help, using nature magic songs to heal burns and poison.

As Grover planted the laurel sapling, Annabeth and I went around trying to cheer up the wounded. I passed a satyr with a broken leg, a demigod who was bandaged from head to toe, and a body covered in the golden burial shroud of Apollo's cabin. I didn't know who was underneath. I didn't want to find out.

Will was so, so grateful that nobody stopped to turn to him and ask for a name. He'd had more than enough of it. His exhaustion was slowly seeping into something deeper the longer this dragged on.

My heart felt like lead, but we tried to find positive things to say.

"You'll be up and fighting Titans in no time!" I told one camper.

"Might have worked on a Hunter," Thalia sniffed at his giving away all the good motivation.

"You guys had plenty of motivation to kill all the Y chromosome monsters as is," Percy shrugged.

"You look great," Annabeth told another camper.

"Bet you a donut that kid was on fire at some point," Magnus muttered, thinking how that would only cheer up some Aprhotodite child. Alex sure wasn't taking that bet.

"Leneus turned into a shrub!" Grover told a groaning satyr.

"He has such a way with words," Will gave a dramatic sigh he wished he'd thought of something half as pleasant to say during all that.

"Really showing off why he's the best searcher over and over again," Jason nodded.

I found Dionysus's son Pollux propped up against a tree. He had a broken arm, but otherwise he was okay.

"I can still fight with the other hand," he said, gritting his teeth.

Percy vividly remembered wanting to get a chain and tie him to that tree. He was pretty sure the spirit within might even help if he told who the request was from.

"No," I said. "You've done enough. I want you to stay here and help with the wounded."

"But—"

"Promise me to stay safe," I said. "Okay? Personal favor."

He frowned uncertainly. It wasn't like we were good friends or anything, but I wasn't going to tell him it was a request from his dad. That would just embarrass him. Finally he promised, and when he sat back down, I could tell he was kind of relieved.

"I bet he had to suspect the reason though," Will muttered. The amount of kids he'd passed all praying to their parents, in some cases just the god they hoped was their parent, had been a lot. Everybody knew Pollux was the only son of Dionysus, and the torrent of feelings it must have caused him to realie his dad had reached out to Percy for this 'personal favor' wasn't something to be fixed with ambrosia. Maybe that's why he'd refused any as he'd diligently assisted.

Annabeth, Grover, and I kept walking toward the palace. That's where Kronos would head. As soon as he made it up the elevator—and I had no doubt he would, one way or another—he would destroy the throne room, the center of the gods' power.

The place had never sat right in Jason's mind merely for Percy being in its existence in the first place. Every little letter he used to describe the place had made an itching sensation all along him.

He considered the hunger to hear it all anyways unhealthy. Like craving something he knew he was allergic to. A part of himself knew he'd hate himself when he got the connecting cord back, making it all make sense. Until then he'd stuff himself on forbidden fruit and deal with the underworld of it all later.

The bronze doors creaked open. Our footsteps echoed on the marble floor. The constellations twinkled coldly on the ceiling of the great hall. The hearth was down to a dull red glow. Hestia, in the form of a little girl in brown robes, hunched at its edge, shivering. The Ophiotaurus swam sadly in his sphere of water. He let out a half-hearted moo when he saw me.

Will wished he could spare a hug for the goddess and the half-cow-half-serpent. He'd had other priorities going on, but the idea of walking into this room and seeing such a sad scene just automatically made him want to open his arms in offering.

In the firelight, the thrones cast evil-looking shadows, like grasping hands.

Standing at the foot of Zeus's throne, looking up at the stars, was Rachel Elizabeth Dare. She was holding a Greek ceramic vase.

"Rachel?" I said. "Um, what are you doing with that?"

She focused on me as if she were coming out of a dream. "I found it. It's Pandora's jar, isn't it?"

"Rachel's uncanny ability to just be where I need her most, now with bottomless items, feels like a cheat from the universe," Percy said with the dull confidence of his limited gaming experience. He had one of those gut feelings he wasn't going to enjoy this coming conversation with her.

Her eyes were brighter than usual, and I had a bad flashback of moldy sandwiches and burned cookies.

"Please put down the jar," I said.

"Did it turn into a grenade?" Magnus asked in concern. He could never even be sure something was what Percy saw it as considering the mist. The spy had been revealed, obviously Rachel wasn't there to blow up Olympus on anyone's orders, but that didn't mean she might not do it of her own accord considering everything else going on.

"The jar itself was dangerous enough," Percy shook his head.

"I can see Hope inside it." Rachel ran her fingers over the ceramic designs. "So fragile."

"Rachel."

My voice seemed to bring her back to reality. She held out the jar, and I took it. The clay felt as cold as ice.

Something about that felt, mystic. Alex toyed with words in her mind, trying to place why something felt so deeply powerful about that exchange. Rachel felt, possessed. The way she'd been described was unnerving. Rachel was at the precipice of her story, and Percy watching from the outside couldn't begin to grasp all the intricate details within.**

"Grover," Annabeth mumbled. "Let's scout around the palace. Maybe we can find some extra Greek fire or Hephaestus traps."

"But—"

Annabeth elbowed him.

"Right!" he yelped. "I love traps!"

"Who says you can't learn something new about friends you've had for years," Thalia chuckled.

"Now we need to know what kind of traps," Percy nodded solemnly. "I bet he'd love a good snare to help catch those pesky rabbits."

"Grover still won't consider eating his bullies Percy," Annabeth sighed.

"I've never tried rabbit to vouch if it's worth it anyways," he grinned.

She dragged him out of the throne room.

Over by the fire, Hestia was huddled in her robes, rocking back and forth.

"Come on," I told Rachel. "I want you to meet someone."

We sat next to the goddess.

"How long were those two just chilling in the same room without acknowledging each other?" Magnus asked. Yeah, it was a room for gods to be, so the place shouldn't have been able to get any stranger, but it still managed it.

"Given how perceptible Rachel is and how a goddess can be invisible if she wishes, nobody can ever properly guess," Nico shrugged.

"Lady Hestia," I said.

"Hello, Percy Jackson," the goddess murmured. "Getting colder. Harder to keep the fire going."

"I know," I said. "The Titans are near."

Hestia focused on Rachel. "Hello, my dear. You've come to our hearth at last."

Rachel blinked. "You've been expecting me?"

Magnus could barely wrap his head around that. Being a mortal in a sea of demigods and having a goddess's undivided attention. Having the feeling, even for a second, that this god could look at her and see her as someone important with no attachment to her dad. It probably made her feel less like a freak given her sight.

He knew from personal experience it could be a very conflicting feeling, when your perspective on life kept being shaken around so you never knew which way to look at something normal anymore.

Hestia held out her hands, and the coals glowed. I saw images in the fire: My mother, Paul, and I eating Thanksgiving dinner at the kitchen table; my friends and me around the campfire at Camp HalfBlood, singing songs and roasting marshmallows; Rachel and me driving along the beach in Paul's Prius.

I didn't know if Rachel saw the same images, but the tension went out of her shoulders. The warmth of the fire seemed to spread across her.

She saw Percy, Annabeth thought with absolute confidence. Rachel saw the summer of them together, the times she spent with someone who made her feel normal and seen and alive. Annabeth did not think for a second she was just projecting she would have seen the exact same, it just made sense to her Rachel would too.

"To claim your place at the hearth," Hestia told her, "you must let go of your distractions. It is the only way you will survive."

Rachel nodded. "I . . . I understand."

"Wait," I said. "What is she talking about?"

"Percy does not understand," Jason oh so helpfully pointed out.

"Congrats on finally making note of something nobody else picked up on," Percy rolled his eyes.

Rachel took a shaky breath. "Percy, when I came here . . . I thought I was coming for you. But I wasn't. You and me . . ." She shook her head.

"Wait. Now I'm a distraction? Is this because I'm 'not the hero' or whatever?"

Annabeth wanted to yank on his ear and call him a seaweed brain so badly, and only restrained herself because Rachel didn't need her help explaining this to Percy. Still, she couldn't stop herself telling him, "you don't have to be the hero all the time Percy!"

She knew it wasn't his fault, he'd walked into Camp and had that placed on his shoulders mere days later, never to escape it until this coming birthday. She knew why he felt like it defined him in theory.

She still wanted to smack the idea out of his head eventually.

"I'm not sure I can put it into words," she said. "I was drawn to you because . . . because you opened the door to all of this." She gestured at the throne room. "I needed to understand my true sight. But you and me, that wasn't part of it. Our fates aren't intertwined. I think you've always known that, deep down."

I stared at her. Maybe I wasn't the brightest guy in the world when it came to girls, but I was pretty sure Rachel had just dumped me, which was lame considering we'd never even been together.

"Give the boy a cookie," Thalia chuckled.

"Glad someone around here admits when I can keep up," Percy sighed.

"Dumped is a strong word Percy," Will said bracingly. "More like she's moving on to other things without you."

"Not better Will," Percy shook his head. He wanted to be happy for her, of course, she always should have had the choice of deciding where her life was headed. He just wished he could be a part of it.

But as he took Annabeth's hand with confidence, he at least felt comfortable knowing which part he wanted. Maybe it was better this way. Rachel doing this now might have made him keep hesitating like a bafoon in that memory where Annabeth kissed him.

"So . . . what," I said. '"Thanks for bringing me to Olympus. See ya.' Is that what you're saying?"

Rachel stared at the fire.

"That means yes," Jason was still oh so helpfully narrating to Percy to make sure he got all this.

"Thanks man, where were you when I needed an interpretation to all this?" Percy huffed.

Jason had a funny feeling it was in a vaguely similar situation. Lots of confusing feelings about girls, enemies on his doorstep, the entire world about to collapse if he didn't manage it all. Typical half-blood stuff.

"Percy Jackson," Hestia said. "Rachel has told you all she can. Her moment is coming, but your decision approaches even more rapidly. Are you prepared?"

I wanted to complain that no, I wasn't even close to prepared.

Percy glanced over at the first book again. Instead of his life coming full circle, it felt like he'd never left that closet in Yancy where he'd once hid from Chiron and Grover. No clue what was going on, half terrified out of his mind, and still unprepared for the crazy test to come.

I looked at Pandora's jar, and for the first time I had an urge to open it. Hope seemed pretty useless to me right now. So many of my friends were dead. Rachel was cutting me off. Annabeth was angry with me. My parents were asleep down in the streets somewhere while a monster army surrounded the building. Olympus was on the verge of failing, and I'd seen so many cruel things the gods had done: Zeus destroying Maria di Angelo, Hades cursing the last Oracle, Hermes turning his back on Luke even when he knew his son would become evil.

Surrender, Prometheus's voice whispered in my ear. Otherwise your home will be destroyed. Your precious camp will burn.

"Yeah, anyone would lose in the face of all that Perce," Magnus promised. He wouldn't be surprised if the next sentence said he pressed his face into his knees and stayed there the rest of the battle.

"Minor god of the Lake of Dispair has a pretty cool ring to it?" Alex offered in some kind of trade at the end of all this. Percy didn't seem to want to go for it for some reason.

Annabeth just shook her head at the pair. It was nice to realize that, though they knew Percy so well, she didn't have a moment of hesitation in knowing what came next. That Percy even considered giving up hope alone surprised her, even though she knew he'd never have gone through with it.

Then I looked at Hestia. Her red eyes glowed warmly. I remembered the images I'd seen in her hearth—friends and family, everyone I cared about.

I remembered something Chris Rodriguez had said: There's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here. And Nico, standing up to his father, Hades: If Olympus falls, he said, your own palace's safety doesn't matter.

Nico made a spluttering noise like he was drowning over there. Percy looked around in mild concern if he was supposed to do something about that.

As usual, Nico just seemed to be freaking out he'd been mentioned at all, so he was apt to let it go.

He'd never realize how much it still meant to Nico he was mentioned, in any kind of positive way, being included in Percy's reasons to keep fighting.

I heard footsteps. Annabeth and Grover came back into the throne room and stopped when they saw us. I probably had a pretty strange look on my face.

Annabeth wasn't entirely sure how she'd describe it if pressed, as Percy looked curiously at her now if she was going to. She wanted to call it, not hope, but the desire to hope. It made perfect sense now, hearing how he'd been thinking of his family, those he cared about most, and how he'd had a moment of weakness in giving in.

"Percy?" Annabeth didn't sound angry anymore—just concerned. "Should we, um, leave again?"

Suddenly I felt like someone had injected me with steel. I understood what to do.

I looked at Rachel. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean . . . you talked to Chiron, right?"

"Those two sentences mean nothing together," Alex scoffed, and it wasn't just her lack of faith in authority figures fueling those words.

"Chiron sent you on your first stupid quest," Magnus agreed at the lack of correlation.

"Eh," Jason said, waving his hand about like he was fifty-fifty on the matter.

Nico watched in amusement as the Campers seemed mildly offended his advice wasn't taken as law in them, but Thalia was suppressing a smile too, clearly still swallowing a laugh from Alex's comment.

She managed a faint smile. "You're worried about me doing something stupid?"

"Pot, kettle," Annabeth honestly agreed.

"Soup, hot tea," Percy grinned like they were playing a game.

"Seaweed brain," she chuckled.

"Wise girl," he was still grinning back.

"But I mean . . . will you be okay?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "That kind of depends on whether you save the world, hero."

I picked up Pandora's jar. The spirit of Hope fluttered inside, trying to warm the cold container.

"Hestia," I said, "I give this to you as an offering."

"Well you did promise her more offerings," Jason grinned. "Glad to see you holding up to that."

"Does that count as giving up hope?" Magnus asked in concern.

"An offering doesn't necessarily mean giving up, just acceptance of something more happening," Thalia smiled.

The goddess tilted her head. "I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?"

"Because she said that," Percy chuckled, as if he hadn't been confident enough in his decision before. A god who went around saying they weren't important? Oh yeah, good call Percy. He even gave himself a real pat on the back.

It was pretty hysterical to watch for the others and they couldn't even laugh at the sweet moment.

"You're the last Olympian," I said.

"What a dramatic way to phrase that, would have made a great title," Alex grinned. "So ominous, so captivating when you get to this explanation."

Percy was not the only one grateful these books had not come with titles all of a sudden. As if Alex needed more to blabber on about in the great mess that was his life.

"And the most important."

"And why is that, Percy Jackson?"

"Because Hope survives best at the hearth," I said. "Guard it for me, and I won't be tempted to give up again."

Percy had been out shopping with his mom once when he'd seen one of those silly plaques. Home is Where the Heart Is. Right next to one of those live, laugh, love things. He'd rolled his eyes and kept walking and carried all the groceries in one hand and the water on his shoulder up the stairs for her while she protested and made grabs for the bags the whole time as they laughed.

It wasn't hard to guess why his brain had offered up that specific memory as his heart brimmed with love and hope now that his confidence had been renewed with Annabeth and Grover coming back into the room. If Home is Where the Heart is, then he was homesick every time she wasn't there.

The goddess smiled. She took the jar in her hands and it began to glow. The hearth fire burned a little brighter.

"Well done, Percy Jackson," she said. "May the gods bless you."

"We're about to find out." I looked at Annabeth and Grover. "Come on, guys."

I marched toward my father's throne.

"Neptune's?" Jason's voice came out a squeak of protest like he'd been turned into a gerbile. Percy would know.

"No man, Posideon, keep up," Percy grinned.

"But- you- hot seat..." Jason was struggling to look at him without swallowing.

"You can have my seat if you really want it," Percy shrugged.

"No!" Jason yelped. He didn't know why he was even surprised anymore. It was so, Percy. Was there any line this guy wouldn't cross?

"Well okay then, we're moving on," he chuckled.

The seat of Poseidon stood just to the right of Zeus's, but it wasn't nearly as grand. The molded black leather seat was attached to a swivel pedestal, with a couple of iron rings on the side for fastening a fishing pole (or a trident). Basically it looked like a chair on a deep-sea boat, that you would sit in if you wanted to hunt shark or marlin or sea monsters.

Magnus made a disturbed face at the idea of sitting anywhere near that thing. Fish was a disgusting smell that lingered as far as he was concerned, and he'd never been fishing, nor was he sure he ever could again knowing Percy might hear their tiny screams.

Gods in their natural state are about twenty feet tall, so I could just reach the edge of the seat if I stretched my arms.

"Annabeth didn't give you a boost up?" Thalia gasped.

"I'm about to cut off your head and spike it on Ares's throne," Percy scowled.

"He'd consider that a reward," Thalia scoffed.

"Help me up," I told Annabeth and Grover.

"Ah, there it is," Thalia continued grinning as if nothing had happened. "I was so concerned you were going to start ripping up the leather or something hauling your ass in. Even your dad might not forgive that. This is better."

"No! It's not!" Jason was still fighting off spasms in his hand like he wanted to put Percy in a headlock for even speaking of this.

He was being ignored. "Ah, Thals, I always knew you had my best interest at heart," Percy chuckled. "Okay, fine, lop off your head and sacrifice it to Hestia?"

"Getting warmer," she rolled her eyes.

"'Are you crazy?" Annabeth asked.

"Probably," I admitted.

"Percy," Grover said, "the gods really don't appreciate people sitting in their thrones. I mean like turn-you-into-a-pile-of-ashes don't appreciate it."

"What a shock to Percy this is I'm sure," Alex gasped as theatrically as possible. "Poor innocent Percy couldn't even fathom offending someone before all this!"

"I don't think anyone's ever called me innocent," Percy said in surprise. "Poor, sure, but even my mom's never called me that." He couldn't seem to decide if he was insulted or not.

Alex grinned with delight and nodded as if he'd thanked her anyways.

"I need to get his attention," I said. "It's the only way."

"We need to get you a cellphone," Will sighed. "Surely the gods owe us one that doesn't attract monsters! Your dad has to owe you a favor after all this so there are easier ways to get in contact with him in the future!" He didn't much like the idea of this blasphemous act either, even if he wasn't having a heart attack like Jason clearly was over Percy's newest stunt. Between him and Magnus, Will probably should have had an emergency pouch of ambrosia on hand this whole time.

"I could finally order my own pizza on quests," Percy grinned at this proposition. His mind flickered to Beckendorf with grief the guy couldn't even whip up a prototype. Maybe Tyson would like the challenge.

They exchanged uneasy looks.

"Well," Annabeth said, "this'll get his attention."

"So you're just done trying to talk him out of his crazy plans huh?" Jason's voice still squeaked just a bit as his vocal cords kept trying to cross in surprise while hearing of this.

"Never bothered to try," Annabeth shrugged, "he never gave me the chance. After all these years, I just sort of roll with it." A very large part of her mind had been wondering and calculating if his curse would prevent him from being blasted into kelp, but it hadn't been helping much.

They linked their arms to make a step, then boosted me onto the throne.

There was a quippy comment somewhere on Nico about booster seats and thrones never being a good match, but he didn't really have the heart. It was to admirable. Percy had no fear of his father in the slightest to openly address him.

I felt like a baby with my feet so high off the ground.

They could all easily imagine it too. Percy sitting in a highchair, swinging his feet around with blue food smeared all over his face. Probably something to do with that warm memory of Posideon visiting him as a feisty tot.

I looked around at the other gloomy, empty thrones, and I could imagine what it would be like sitting on the Olympian Council—so much power but so much arguing, always eleven other gods trying to get their way. It would be easy to get paranoid, to look out only for my own interest, especially if I were Poseidon. Sitting in his throne, I felt like I had the entire sea at my command—vast cubic miles of ocean churning with power and mystery. Why should Poseidon listen to anyone? Why shouldn't he be the greatest of the twelve?

Then I shook my head. Concentrate.

"I'd actually like to continue this train of thought," Alex grinned a diabolical look. How the God of the Ocean could be playing the long game to overthrow Zeus with his son at the spearpoint of it all.

"Please keep your theories to your head for now," Thalia sighed. She did not like to imagine the tipping point where she might see that as a good thing one day. She'd had a few close calls in her youth she already feared he knew about.

The throne rumbled. A wave of gale-force anger slammed into my mind:

WHO DARES—

The voice stopped abruptly.

"Percy dares," Magnus nodded without surprise, on the same level as a god. That was a new one.

The anger retreated, which was a good thing, because just those two words had almost blasted my mind to shreds.

Percy rubbed the side of his head while repressing a shiver. He'd wondered a lot down here if his dad had done this to him. That wasn't really making him feel better.

Percy. My father's voice was still angry but more controlled. What—exactly—are you doing on my throne?

"I'm sorry, Father," I said. "I needed to get your attention."

"And it worked," Annabeth said with a begrudging laugh how he always managed to do that.

This was a very dangerous thing to do. Even for you. If I hadn't looked before I blasted, you would now be a puddle of seawater.

"Ah, the mystery is finally answered what he'd curse you into," Thalia nodded for a long answered query.

"Yeah, I was happier pretending my dad didn't do that so willy nilly," Percy sighed even though he knew better.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "Listen, things are rough up here."

I told him what was happening. Then I told him my plan.

His voice was silent for a long time.

Percy, what you ask is impossible. My palace—

"Dad, Kronos sent an army against you on purpose. He wants to divide you from the other gods because he knows you could tip the scales."

Be that as it may, he attacks my home.

"I'm at your home," I said. "Olympus."

The floor shook. A wave of anger washed over my mind. I thought I'd gone too far, but then the trembling eased. In the background of my mental link, I heard underwater explosions and the sound of battle cries: Cyclopes bellowing, mermen shouting.

"Is Tyson okay?" I asked.

The question seemed to take my dad by surprise.

"This entire conversation is one surprise after another for him," Will assured as if Percy could be thinking anything else.

"Yeah, I seem to have that effect on the gods," Percy agreed in his own surprise after all these years.

He's fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry.

"It's very unique," Alex grinned.

"Very Tyson," Nico agreed.

"You let him fight?"

Stop changing the subject!

"It's like you have some kind of attention disorder or something," Thalia chuckled.

"That I get from him, he can't be to mad," Percy sniffed. Annabeth had a pained look on her face for them mocking this. He was a god. He could be as mad as he wanted to.

You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed.

"And Olympus might be saved."

'Might be,' Will still shook his head at that. Percy had been running most of this on faith, luck, and friendship. No guarantees of survival. He really should be the hero everyone thought of first. He hoped the guy at least accepted a constellation before his death.

Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years.

Annabeth actually had a look of sympathy on her face for a moment for his dad. It was nice, and something Percy was sure she'd deny if he pointed it out.

"Dad—"

Very well! It shall be as you say.

"Only Percy," Jason said with a kind of deep, respectful awe in his voice Percy wasn't used to hearing when the guy was talking about anyone but the gods. It made him want to blush. His voice went gruff with more gratitude than attitude as he scoffed and brushed it off.

"And don't you forget it."

But my son, pray this works.

"I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?"

Oh . . . yes. Good point. Amphitrite—incoming!

The sound of a large explosion shattered our connection.

"I bet Amphitritie still thinks you're a useless stepchild," Thalia easily redirected his ire onto her. "Still holding her husband's attention even in the middle of battle Percy."

"Well at least it's nothing new," Percy shrugged.

I slipped down from the throne.

Grover studied me nervously. "Are you okay? You turned pale and . . . you started smoking."

"I did not!" Then I looked at my arms. Steam was curling off my shirtsleeves. The hair on my arms was singed.

"Now just imagine if you sat on Hepheastus's throne," Nico frowned. "Even one of his kids might not have lived through that unless they were made of pure fire."

"Sounds hot," Alex busted out laughing at her own pun.

"If you'd sat there any longer," Annabeth said, "you would've spontaneously combusted.

"Wasn't very spontaneous considering how long the conversation was," Percy frowned. "I had a whole mini question about Tyson."

"Yes, that was the important part about a sentence involving the word combustion," Annabeth sighed.

"Average day in my life," he reminded as he kissed the back of her hand. "I know you can do better."

I hope the conversation was worth it?"

Moo, said the Ophiotaurus in his sphere of water.

"We'll find out soon," I said.

Just then the doors of the throne room swung open. Thalia marched in. Her bow was snapped in half and her quiver was empty.

"Which I'm guessing she was totally fine with and not about to kill the next person who annoyed her," Alex said oh so innocently, before coughing, "Percy."

"I had bigger monsters to fry, otherwise you'd be right on the money," she chuckled.

"You've got to get down there," she told us. "The enemy is advancing. And Kronos is leading them."

"At some point, this has to stop ending on that like it's dramatically new we're all about to die, right?" Annabeth sighed as she passed the book to Thalia.

"I'll let you know," she promised.

PJOPJOPJOPJO

*I take no credit for the following conversations dialogue. It was one of the very first tumblr posts I ever read and it made me laugh every time I saw it in my youth. I've been dying for a way to slip it into a fic for ages now.

**I personally believe this is symbolic of Rachel giving up hope of fighting against being the next Oracle in this exchange, but it's just a slice of headcannon I couldn't work into the characters. None of them know her that well or have a clue when/ what her motivations really are except Percy

[softlyapocalytpic]

Deacon

My interpretation of Deacon is very much in the camp of, “every good lie has a seed of truth”. Got no idea if that what makes a good lie, but I think it’s a fun story telling device so idc. I never want to take away from him being a liar because it feels like it’d be a disservice to his character, but from his dialogue it feels like there’s always that grain of truth. Rather than just flat out lies, he twists the truth. The only time it ever feels flat out is when you’re supposed to doubt him, (like that he’s been to Greenland or played cards with Mr. House). It’s wacky, outlandish, and he plays it straight because that’s apart of the joke.

Because at his heart he’s a goofball! I think that Deacon shows more of who he truly is than he realizes by the mere fact that he doesn’t really know who that is anymore. If you spend sometime time as the lie, when does it become the truth?

He’s so edgy in own head, but I think that his true colors show from his actions which are usually spent either a) protecting the people he loves, or b) keeping their spirits high. He may be cynical, but he doesn’t want to be. He admires optimism and hope and surrounds himself in it, and I think some of it rubs off on him when he isn’t looking.

How can he not? The way that I can hear his voice SPARKLE after you blow up the Institute… Like the whole world has just taken on a new brighter shade. But also the way that he fights, and he fights, and he fights even in the darkest hours of the Railroad. At times I think he feels beaten down and broken, like he couldn’t get up again, but then he looks at these beacons of hope like Dez, Glory, and everyone else and he can’t help it! While he definitely has the “man loses last bit hope he didn’t know he had” moment, he doesn’t stay in the darkness. He’s magnetized to the light. Something something a lantern in the dark hehe.

Piper

I’ve fallen in love a little bit with almost all of the Fallout 4 companions, and Piper is the latest 💞. I made a conscious effort to spend more time with her on my survival play through and she’s just so charming. Bethesda knew what they were doing and they got my pansexual ass hook, line, and sinker. She’s sweet, and awkward, and passionate, and quirky, and goofy, and driven. What’s there not love?

I think my Piper is definitely a reflection of what I’m feeling like in my early twenties, except a more fantasized “country girl in the big apple vibes” version. Life is an adventure, and oh fuck being an adult with responsibility is difficult. I care so much about my community yet feel so isolated for one reason or the other. She’s fighting for justice but doesn’t have it all together yet. She trips, stumbles, and is learning.

I think the biggest roadblock for loving her character had been the contradiction of being ostensibly pro-synth but also lambasting McDonough for being a synth publicly. However, when I took a look at that as a character arc I really began to appreciate her!

Piper’s point was never to promote synth hate, and I’m so compelled by her grappling and dealing with the fact that she did. That her constant strive to deliver the unabashed truth, along with her (rightful) disdain of McDonough as a person meant that she helped the paranoia. That she made synths the bad guys rather than the Institute at large. Her seeing the toll of a full out war with propaganda from all sides, and developing another layer to her belief system. An awareness of her words and how they effect people.

Cait

I know that for some character arcs it’s about learning to be okay in your own body, on your own, but it’s SO important to me that Cait ends her story with someone absolutely smitten for her. It doesn’t matter the gender (although I’m personally partial to a girlfriend for her), she needs someone to hold her. To be patient with her. To call her out on her shit when she’s being dumb, and stand by her through the roughest parts of her journey. I want her to feel warm, and safe, and held and to be surrounded by people who love and appreciate her.

Also want her to have a complicated relationship with drugs that isn’t easy, but that she feels like she has agency and choice over. That she doesn’t need to feel ashamed for her drug use! That sure she’s got baggage but she’s so worth carrying it. I want Cait to live an easy breezy life where she’s surrounded by laughter.

(Man I guess this was less meta and more me wanting to give Cait nice things lmao).

In such a bad mood after reading something that I won’t say more about because I don’t care for engaging in internet discourse! So instead I wanna post something positive! These are just some thoughts on a couple of the companions. Definitely not the full breadth of my thoughts, but I’m kinda just not in the mood to be critical right now. Just need something good to cheer me up. Hope it can do the same for you!

My interpretations generally tend towards the sweeter more optimistic end, and I’m aware of that. But I stand by them none-the-less. I want the wasteland to become a softer place, not a harder one, and I think that while characters start out in dark places they can be lifted out of that. Fallout already spends so much time really showing off the depths of the horrors of humanity and I think that it needs to foster hope. Hope and growth give meaning to the struggle. The violence may be pointless but then we can choose to be different. Idk y’all it’s nearly two in the morning and I just want some feel goods after being absolutely STEAMED.

If you wanna join in on the fun and add your own thoughts I’d love to hear them. About these guys or any others. I just picked a random three myself. It can be angsty! I just ask to keep things respectful and compassionate in how you talk about it.

[brokengem]

Hi 😊

Do you have any head canons for Gilvie when the barrier came down? Thankies

Hehehe, oh course! Okay so I had to add a cut for this because I realized it was starting to get longer then I intended XD. Can you tell I may have missed talking about some of my faves from Descendants?

I know I've mentioned this in the past, but one of my favorite head canons is Gil helping Evie with her business.

Evie asks Gil to help after a mishap with one of her models and needs a fill in since he's the exact match for the outfit. Gil is surprisingly good at it, being the little friendly charmer that he is. And Gil had fun doing it. It was simple and just has the sweetest and best smile. Evie continues to ask him for help after.

Gil likes to hang around while Evie is sewing, asking questions about it and keeping her company even though he's definitely not needed it. Evie thinks its cute that he's genuinely interested in what she's doing.

She shows him some simple technics and while he won't be designing any dresses with his skills, he's amazing at repairs. Any rip or tear is given to Gil, who happily has the piece of clothing looking as good as new. He also sits with Dizzy, helping make accessories to go with Evie's designs.

Another head canon ties in with Speaking with the Enemy, with Evie and Gil having been friends before the Mal vs Uma rivalry.

Gil never hated Evie for turning her back on him. He gets it. Mal was basically her escape from the Isle, one she deserved. He always thought she was too good for the likes of Isle. But this doesn't stop Evie from apologizing to him now that the dust has been cleared.

She's grown so much and Gil hadn't deserved to be pushed away like some toy just because she got new friends. When he was always trying to be a good friend to her.

They start over (even though Gil 100% has already been seeing them as friends once again since D3.) She invites him for walks around Auradon or the woods around her castle.

Now that the barrier is down and they can go back and forth between homes, Gil takes Evie back to the Isle. They revisit old haunts. Gil even gives her back a little beaten up rabbit she'd given to him that he never got rid of.

They visit Silver (one of my all time favorite head canon is Silver from Treasure Planet begrudgingly adopting Evie, Jay and Carlos and a few others who love to bother him) who's happy to see the pair back together.

Evie loves listening to Gil prattle on about all the things that excite him. His happiness just so contagious.

They get teased often by their friends, who joke whenever one is with out the other since most days they are always seen together.

When Gil goes off with Jay for a few months to explore the what they can is when Evie realizes she may have started catching feelings for him.

She's become so use to the Gil's presence in her new life, that he's missed when he's gone. The months away are torture, even if Gil is sending her letters and calls every now and then, its not the same.

Evie talks to Uma about it after dropping off a letter for her that Gil had sent with Evie's. Uma laughs, pointing out how obvious it was and asking if Evie had plans to do something about it.

She isn't sure at first and Uma reminds her to not play games with Gil again because this time Uma will do something about it.

When Gil finally comes back, Evie's made up her mind. Jumping into his arm when he's visits her for one of his bone crashing hugs. She tells him everything, even if she's no sure how he feels, but it's nice to get it off her chest.

She's never seen him happier at her words. Gil swings her around and kisses her cheek, the feelings being mutual.

[azurdlywisterious]

And Strange Moons Circle Through The Skies...

AN: heheheh harvey sequel go brrrr. Okay this is a slight embellishment of me actually fighting the [spoilers] in the game (mainly because i don't remember that well lol) (and also im adding psychology to what in actuality was “red health bar must hit must go down to zero” with no remorse because i, azurdly, am playing a video game) (harvey is a bit unlikeable here but oh well)

Word count: 1k

CW: general blood/injury but nothing that wouldn't be pg-13, alcohol/potentially implied light alcoholism

My curiosity and confidence in my sickle weilding abilities have beaten back my common sense. I want to explore what's in my backyard. I want to see what the Mole Miners prevent me from knowing.

"You sure about this, Harvey?" Punk asks me before I go. "Those Mole Miners are no joke."

I smile. "They can't be any worse than super mutants or those things that go bump in the night."

"Look, just be careful, okay?"

"I promise I'll be careful," I swear to him as I strap on my gas mask. "Plus there's only one way to know what's beyond their base. What if there's orange juice? What if they're hiding it?"

"I know, I know," he tells me. "I just worry that one day you won't come back. And then I'll have to take care of this base all by myself. And I don't want to do that."

I think long and hard before responding, "I swear I'll make it back alive, Punk. Can't leave my best friend on a cliffhanger."

I see Punk flex his hands and flick his fingers before giving me a silent nod and walking back upstairs to his radio station. I bite the inside of my cheek and head out the door.

The green foliage soothes my anxious nerves as I begin my crusade. The atmosphere desaturates the further I walk up the mountain. I brandish my Juggernaut sickle. I can take on any foe with that in my hand.

I hear the scraping of the Mole Miners in the area. I can tell they're close. I climb up the tower to some abandoned office and wait for one to venture up the stairs. Divide and conquer, baby.

A shot to the arm notifies me that I need to get to work on them. I shut my brain off, my only thoughts being swing sickle and inject stimpack if my heart starts to go.

Hack, hack, hack. Stab, stab, stab.

Before I know it, I feel the adrenaline leave my body knee deep in mutated bodies. I take deep breaths. I'm drenched in blood. I don't know if I love it or I hate it. I keep going up the road.

I se a pack of super mutants off in the distance and veer the other way before they spot me. I don't have super mutant killing energy in me today. All I want to do is explore and scavenge. And I've found some good scrap so far!

Further up the mountain and off in the distance, I see the light of a fire illuminating a crude structure. What is it? I move closer to find out.

As I get closer, I see the Mothman cultists surrounding it. Sadly, my arrival was not subtle, so they see me. A shame too. I add a couple more bodies to my long list of everyone and everything I've killed. It's kill or be killed outside of the vault I've learned; and if you attack me, I won't hesitate to fight back. My mom and dad want me to rebuild this place since they no longer can. My mom and dad deserve one last gala at Camden Park.

"They deserve this!" I hear myself scream as I slay the last cultist.

I hear him breathe out, "I regret nothing," before falling limp to the ground. I stopped feeling sorry for the cultists long ago. If you keep running into my sickle, don't be surprised when you eventually bleed out.

I loot what I want from the gazebo and keep walking. I drink a bottle of vodka as I trudge. I don't want to think about the blood. I just want to explore, and scavenge, and rebuild the outside word and give my parents one last gala.

Something glowing catches my left eye, a purple light shining off some old train cars. Like a moth to a bug zapper, I move closer to the light. There’s drones and stuff flying overhead, but what’s right in front if me is much more interesting.

In front of me is a pack of mongrels, glowing with an otherworldly purple light. In the center of the pack is a creature I have only ever heard of in fiction and in the ravings of so-called madmen. We’re far from Flatwoods, but I don’t think this alien monster in front of me cares. I hit it once before it teleports, leaving me to dispatch its dogs.

I make quick work of the mongrels before I notice that Flatwoods Monster come back. And I won’t let it get away this time.

It attacks me, but only briefly. I wail on it with my sickle before getting frustrated and pulling out my laser pistol to do the job quickly. I show it no mercy. Whatever cut open my face made that choice for me years ago. This is another one of those creatures. I will kill it.

The Flatwoods Monster falls, still glowing purple. I take what I want from the corpse and make my way back down the mountain. I can barely close my backpack, which is my queue to head back to C.A.M.P.

I make it back, weary from the hiking and the fighting.

“Glad to hear you made it back, friend!” I hear Punk say from upstairs.

I join him on the second floor to drop off all the extra junk I found. I hear the sound of his headphones being dropped.

“What happened to you out there, Harvey?”

“Calm down.” I roll my eyes as I take off the gas mask. “It’s just a little blood.”

He wipes his fingers down the sleeve of my leather jacket. “Why is the blood purple?”

“Killed a Flatwoods Monster,” I reply nonchalantly.

“You did what?!”

“Killed a Flatwoods Monster.”

“Oh, man. The network is gonna be so fucking hyped to hear that! What was it mind controlling?”

“Mind controlling?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he reiterates. “I’ve heard rumors that Flatwoods Monsters can read and control minds.”

Read minds…? Did it read my mind? I was thinking about that night ten years ago. Did it see that?

“Uhh… a pack of mongrels,” I answer.

“Kinda lame, but whatever. It’s dead now.”

“Mhmm,” I nod before we return to our solitary activities.

Eventually, I drift off to sleep downstairs, my dreams now flooded with purple light amidst the tattered cloaks. I regret nothing.

[luifaro]

heh.... bet.

I think it'd take me a good amount of resets to figure things out I'm not so good when it comes to memory plus I'm not too good with a LOAD of physical activity.

Ok, so first of all I think the fall would make me kinda groggy and disoriented. I'd wake up and be kinda confused until I remember that I climbed the mountain. While I'm confused I think I'd spend of my time checking that this is real by doing things like counting how many fingers I have, stomping around to see if the texture feels real, etc. I'd be kinda nervous but go forward. Then I'd meet Flowey! I'd think he's adorable and be like "ok i'll hear him out." and then I get obliterated. Just youch. I'd probably say something like "What the fuck did I do to you man???" From that point on I think I'd hate him a hell of a lot. Because I was just chilling and then he decided to kill me for some reason. When Toriel saves me I'd be kind of confused and unsure if I should trust her but because I don't like confrontation I'd just kinda follow her. The long hallway is my worst enemy I'd hate that room so much. Probably on the verge of tears walking through it. I would've tried to run but then I'd end up getting tired and slow down anyway. I'm so relieved when I realize Toriel didn't go anywhere.

I think I'd feel really safe with Toriel and actually wait for a bit before deciding to keep going. Monster encounters cook me a good amount of the time but with every reset I'm able to get better and realize what I need to do. I think if I killed any monster it would've been out of frustration, though it likely wouldn't come to that since I'd just run away for the most part when I get beaten up. After all of those tries I make it to Toriel's house. I think I'd stay for a good period of time because I trust her when she says outside the ruins is dangerous. Even though I don't like Flowey I'd probably consider if he's only acting so aggressive because of Asgore's influence and feel a teeny bit bad for him. I'd probably get to actually SEE Toriel's favorite bug hunting spot!! After I get incredibly curious I admit I want to leave. I'm built different I could convince Toriel I'd win trust. (joking but I would definitely try.) I think I'd be afraid to kill Toriel so I'd just try hitting her a little and end up killing her on accident. Tears in an instant. I'd almost immediately reset and try again. This time she lives!! let's go!

Flowey terrifies me by knowing that I killed Toriel the first time. Tbh I'd probably become terrified of him after his speech and begin looking around to make sure he's not still following me (he is). Similar to you, I'd end being really cold in Snowdin. Unlike you though, I'm pretty used to the cold so I wouldn't suffocate to death. Probably would end up experiencing frostbite a few times though since I wouldn't realize how cold I'm getting (one time lost feeling in my thumb and didn't think much of it, if i did NOT tell my mom idk what would've happened to it.) SO yeah being used to the cold is not that good in my case. I'd really want a scarf or a cape or at least mittens... I think I'd absolutely love Papyrus and Sans because they're such funny guys. I'd try to be Sans and remember I'm not that good at puns.

I'd also find Papyrus really funny because of how it seems like all his schemes fail in one way or another. Generally just talks funny. Would die for him. Hangout is almost immediately happening once we're on good terms. Man if I thought FLOWEY was bad I'd really really be terrified of Undyne because of how determined she is to kill me. I'd both fear and hate her, mostly fear. She would kill me so many times ngl I sucked ass at dodging the overworld spears. I think the bossfight would be better for me though since I'd get a shield. Still dying but not AS much. I'd absolutely hate Hotland. I'd be dying of heatstroke like a boss. It's too fucking hot for me, I really really hate the heat. Does not help they don't have railings so if I mess up I could fall straight into the lava. Puzzles wouldn't be too hard for me since I got Alphys helping me out (i'm so cool it's not even a question). I think I'd grow to like Mettaton, especially after realizing he was just acting and is only killing me so he can save humankind from Asgore. Still kills me a lot. I'd probably have fun dancing though I'd probably pass out after it from exhaustion. I really wouldn't like Core. It's even HOTTER... More heat stroke pleeasee!

I agree with you... Like most of my deaths would probably be fighting monsters since I'm not the best at dodging and would probably forget abilities I have.

I don't think I'd have much of an opinion on New Home but the story told there would make me REALLY REALLY SAD... I don't think I'd realize the gifts aren't FOR ME though so I'd take them anyway.

Omega Flowey... I'm gonna stare at that thing and try to run in the opposite direction as fast as I can. I am NOT fighting that!! Running until Flowey gets bored of chasing me and puts up an invisible wall so I have no choice but to fight him. Six souls make me :) instead of ;-;. I think I'd die a couple times since he wasn't the hardest boss but I'm sure it'd be more difficult if I was actually IN the GAME and had to dodge. After he's cooked I'm sparing him with the power of sheer spite. I'd kinda pity him after he keeps saying he doesn't understand but be really happy when he leaves me the fuck alone.

True Pacifist also playing out mostly the same for me I think. Pretty easy to do when I've already died plenty and gotten chances to figure shit out! After all of this I think the first thing I'm doing is going to bed. Honk mimimimi... I don't think I'd choose to stay with Toriel because I'm assuming my family still... exists and I'm just taking Frisk's role instead of being LITERALLY FRISK.

if you were like sent into undertale like the exact storyline and all the mechanics from undertale still work the same but the cost is you lose all memory of undertale's plot (example: you forget flowey's evil so you might run into his bullets) so you just have to figure shit out, how many resets do you think it'd take to complete it?

I fear I would not survive. /hj

In all seriousness, a lot. Like Clover times a lot. I am not the most fit person, I practically die every time I go to my classes because they're on the third floor or when I have to go to another building for a class, so traversing the Underground alone would kill me honestly. To add to that, I cannot be in extremely cold places without proper clothing (as in multiple layers of coats and sweaters) or else my lungs will kill me. The moment I get locked out of the Ruins and enter Snowdin, I will be lying in the snow suffocating to death, that is if hypothermia doesn't take me first.

I would probably stay with Toriel much longer than Frisk does before venturing out. I don't see myself having problems in Snowdin besides the cold, I would love to hang out with Papyrus. Waterfall would probably be where I die the most due to Undyne. Hotland.. I'm going to be real, Hotland would exhaust me. It's high up with no safety railings, if you fall it's straight to lava, and that would set my anxiety on fire. I live in a hot country and I survived its 40°c-50°c summer heat so I don't think I would have a problem with the heat, my main problem would be with the puzzles and traps in Hotland unless Alphys helps me. The same thing can be said with the CORE. New Home would be the easiest place for me to travel since you just have to walk.

Fighting monsters would probably be the thing that would kill me the most. I already died a lot of times from random encounters (more times than bosses actually) in my Undertale playthrough, just apply that in real life but 100 times worse. I would probably do a pacifist run because I'm scared of confrontation that I would either flee, freeze, or initiate an uncomfortably long staring contest.

Honestly you're right in assuming that I would fall for Flowey's tricks at first but after that he would probably be on sight for me. I would have major beef with him for many reasons and when Omega Flowey comes around, I would freeze and accept my fate before I remember that I hate him and start throwing punches. I would probably choose to kill him after that.

I honestly think the rest of the True Pacifist route would play out the same just with a bit more death from me. And when everyone finishes their "What I will do now that we're free" speech, I collapse on the ground from exhaustion and the game would end.

[slashersidewhore]

How would different slashers react to an s/o who has a service dog? Please include Jason Voorhees thank you!

Slashers! HC S/O with a service dog

Slashers x gn!reader

Including Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, and Vincent Sinclair

Warnings: Beefy murder boyfriends, Established relationships, talk/mentions of murder, mentioned shitty people, cutesy stuff

Requests are open! Inbox or ask!

Michael Myers

A service dog 👀

…

Michael isn’t exactly a ray of sunshine, nor someone who cares at all about those around him

I can see him being cold seemingly distant in a relationship, although deep rooted with insecurity and self doubt

I mean he was locked up for years without proper psychiatric treatment

He knows what it means to be seen differently, not understood and frankly not given a shit about, whatever the reason you have a service dog for, he can relate it to some degree

Stalking. This man is a literal psychopathic murder, he can’t be seen with you out in public, but leaving you unwatched? Unprotected? Not happening.

Most of the time you notice a pair of eyes on you, comforted by the fact the man is somewhere keeping you safe with his presence

Other times, you’re distracted by certain people

You know those people when it comes to service dogs, we all do

The ones that feel inclined to pet it, or insist if you say no, or better yet question why you even need a service dog in the first place

Yeah they aren’t alive for much longer, especially considering the threatening man clenching a knife a few blocks away, heavy breathing under his mask

He doesn’t give a shit about your dog

The one thing keeping him from killing the mutt is you, the fact that whenever he’s not around, he knows that little guy will always be there for you

Definitely doesn’t like the dog

Not one bit

And no, that time you caught him awkwardly patting the dogs head doesn’t mean anything

Jason Voorhees

This man adores animals, and you

So having a s/o with a dog? Best package deal

A tad bit nervous early in the relationship, doesn’t want to make the poor animal hate him and in proxy, lose you

Someone tries to pet it without asking? Yeah no, not on his watch, the dog is for your comfortably and safety, not for senseless teenagers to bother

Whatever the reason you need it for, he’s always there to lend a helping hand

I can imagine he’s a protective lover in general, wants to keep you safe no matter what, especially since you have a service dog

Personally labels the food and water bowl with your dogs name, has created a schedule for feeding and going out

Knowing he keeps various traps around the camp and forest, Jason is normally always at your side if you feel like going out, walking you to the edge of camp or just keeping an eye out

This one time you nearly stepped in a bear trap, before Jason had become more clingy about you out alone

If it wasn’t for your dog, you probably would’ve lost a foot

Imagine this lumbering, beaten down and hardened man nervous about petting it, his large, scarred hand shaking like a leaf as he gently rests his palm against its head, softly repeating the motion

You don’t have to imagine it though, because it’s the same every time he gives the dog any sort of affection

To Jason, the dog that helps you is an extension of his own love for you, if this furry friend is taken care of and kept safe, then so are you

It’s a win win

Thomas Hewitt

You have two service dogs

One is huge, watchful and protective, keeping track of each step you make and when something could go possibly wrong

And the other is an actual dog

Such a softie, feeds it, gives it baths, takes it for walks with you

Even gives the little guy his own nickname, although he would never admit to it

He was a bit awkward at first, wasn’t sure the animal would warm up to him all that much, jokes on him though!

Dogs are great at sniffing out good people, it was definitely a great sign when it was on its hind legs trying to lick Tommy’s face

You have a command where if you need more support, the dog will go track down Thomas to come help you, something he’s glad of considering he unfortunately can’t always be glued to your side

Honestly sometimes forgets dogs can bark for no reason, always gives him a heart attack thinking you’re in need of help or in trouble but it ends up being a squirrel or something

Makes him feel all warm inside when the two of you are wrapped in each other’s arms at night, the fur baby at the end of your shared bed, curled in a ball

Hoyt once made a joke about eating it for dinner

He got bitten

You’ve never seen Thomas so confident in his laughter

Vincent Sinclair

It’s a friend for Jonsey!

Honestly I don’t see Vincent as a huge dog lover, he doesn’t hate them, but they can be too rambunctious for his more calm atmosphere

But… it’s for your support, to keep you grounded and safe

So he can make an exception

Doesn’t want the dog in his studio though, the possibly of dog hair getting mixed with his artwork would tickle his brain the wrong way

Don’t worry though, any help you need, he is more than happy to supply

In fact, this man would probably wear a collar if you asked

Kidding

…

Anyways, thinks the two of you are adorable, regardless of the shiver of disgust when he sees it slobber

Maybe he’s just jealous

I mean he can understand why you needed one before him but now? You have Vincent, your Vinny, your honey, why do you need to rely on anyone but him?

Like babe… you never leave the house? How are you supposed to be there every minute

It’s okay, on a serious note he just wants you to be happy and healthy

So if a dog can keep you that way, he’s all in

Just, don’t give the dog in question too many kisses in front of him

He gets pouty, even as a grown man

Requests are open, inbox or ask!

I hope this worked well for anyone who does have a service dog!

Thank you for reading!

[bludhavents]

things that each greaser struggles with:

these are mostly headcanons i came up with. also, this gets pretty angsty.

content warning: alcoholism, addiction, anxiety.

darry:

- maturity. he thinks everybody looks at him like the “dad” of the group instead of just another friend, and he loathes it. he misses whenever he was able to skip work to catch a movie at the drive-in or take ponyboy and sodapop up to the dingo for lunch.

- accidental intimidation. his build is very large and strong, which is good for his job and for when he’s actually trying to, well, intimidate people, but other than that it just makes him feel guilty for being so unapproachable.

- relationships. specifically, darry is very insecure in his relationship with pony. he especially hates it whenever pony dogs on him for forgetting things or accusing him of not caring.

- emotional intelligence. he knows he comes across as cold. and he hates it. he has lots of emotions and he doesn’t air them out in a healthy way, so he tries his best to cut all the emotions off altogether in hopes that the negativity will stop, but it just makes him feel even more insecure.

- social skills. in high school, it was all much easier for him, but now that he’s working full-time and running the household, he’s fallen majorly behind in the social scene. he never goes out to the drive-in or to the dingo, and at first it was because he was too busy, but now, even if he doesn’t have a shift, he’ll make up some excuse because he’s too nervous to go and have to talk to people again since he feels like he’s gonna mess up.

- identity. darry was just starting to feel comfortable in himself and in his role in the world right before his parents died, and when they did, he stopped trying to figure out what made him happy. it has made him insecure of the emotional stint that is centered around his ego and sense of self.

sodapop:

- smarts. it’s canon that he’s insecure about this.

- growing up. while everybody else moves on to new things and grows up, he feels like he’s stuck in the same place watching everybody else progress while he stays behind. this was especially true after sandy left, because marrying her was going to be this huge exciting step in his life and when she left, he didn’t have that fulfillment anymore.

- reassurance. he feels a constant need for approval, and he will take it wherever he can get it. there’s a sort of pride he gets whenever he sees a girl checking him out, but there’s a deeper feeling telling him that she’s gonna run away once she finds out about how ‘stupid’ he is.

- authority. soda has a really hard time talking to people who are in a position of power. he gets all nervous and his hands get sweaty and his face goes sheet white in panic. his charm and social skill is enough to satisfy a conversation with a person his age, but he feels silly trying to be confident in front of an adult. he feels like they look down on him and will laugh.

- fatherhood. he’s very insecure about having a family in the future. he feels like he never appreciated his dad’s skilled parenting while he could, and since then darry has been a sort of fatherly figure in the house, but it’s hard for soda to see it that way. he grew up for 16 years with darry as a big brother and for him to suddenly be forced into a father role is troubling for soda. because of this complicated dynamic between soda and fatherhood, he feels like he won’t be able to be the best father possible for his children.

- legs. he hates his legs. you will never see soda in a pair of shorts, not even when he’s swimming. he doesn’t like the way they’re shaped and thinks that they make the rest of his body look odd, so he wears loose jeans to hide them. he’s also embarrassed of being embarrassed about them, so nobody knows, not even steve.

dallas:

- emotional intelligence. his lack of emotional intelligence is something he battles with a lot. he understands what people are feeling, but he has a hard time understanding why they feel that way. he says it’s because he’s too tuff to deal with emotions, but deep down he knows it’s because he was thrust into a traumatic childhood so early on that he never had time to build emotional bonds with people that would strengthen his empathy and understanding.

- his past, another canon take. he hates talking about it, even the good stuff, because when he thinks about new york all he can picture is 10 year old dallas watching a man being covered in a white sheet by the paramedics on the side of the road. he thinks about his friends from there and knows they’re all either locked up or dead, and it ruins any enjoyment he gets from reminiscing on the good times.

- health. he definitely has crohn’s or IBS or something else that makes his stomach hurt whenever he eats, and it embarrasses him to no end. he’s always anxious that his stomach is going to start hurting when he’s with the gang and is going to have to find some excuse to leave. he smokes so much while he’s out with them to keep from getting hungry until he gets back to buck’s place.

- his friendships. the shepherd gang is close-knit. then, the curtis’ are brothers, steve has known them forever, and two-bit is outgoing enough to make himself fit in to the group. johnny is the closest person dallas relates to, and it’s the friendship hes the most secure in.

- his smile. he knows smoking ruins his teeth, and he knows they’re crooked all over, and he knows that when he smiles his lips crack and stretch out.

johnny:

- his appearance, canon insecurity. he looks young for his age, and when the gang found him in the lot after he was beaten by Socs, they all started treating him like he was young too. he didn’t think the scar on his face was tuff, it just reminded him of being attacked.

- his voice. this is less about how it sounds and more about him not being able to speak over the shouting at home. he hates yelling, and he won’t stand in to speak up for him cause he’s too afraid of being told to “stop yelling”.

- being average. johnny feels painfully average in everything he does. he’s tried to find a skill that he truly loves and wants to take time to be good at, but he always gets frustrated and quits before he can improve.

- romance. almost every aspect of it terrifies johnny. he doesn’t know what a healthy marriage looks like, what he does know was from Mr and Mrs Curtis, but seeing them die together warped his sense of love. he doesn’t understand why you would want to love somebody so much if you didn’t have to. he doesn’t like the “til death do us part” aspect of marriage, because it makes him feel trapped. he’s not afraid of commitment, he’s afraid that he will end up in a marriage like his parents’ and not be able to leave.

two-bit:

- alcoholism. he’s an alcoholic and he knows it, but he’s been stuck in the vicious cycle of addiction for such a long time that the only way he knows how to cope with the emotional baggage of addiction is to drink more.

- social awareness. as of now, he’s very self-aware and extremely skilled in reading a room, but he didn’t used to be. he used to crack jokes at the wrong time and get scolded for it, and it made him feel horrible. like he wasn’t able to experience all the same sad feelings as everybody else because they reacted differently to the sadness than he did. they wanted to process the sadness while he wanted to ignore it.

- being absent at home. he knows he spends the majority of time at the curtis house, and he also knows that his mother spends the majority of her time at work, which leaves his little sister at home alone. he has a good relationship with her, but he doesn’t like for her to see him drunk, and as his alcoholism progresses, that gets to be more and more often. he knows this, and it’s one of the main reasons he’s so insecure about his addiction, because she’s the one who let him know that it wasn’t a one-way street. his problem affected him and her.

- commitment. two-bit is young, but he feels old enough to know how relationships work. he saw his dad walk out on them, and he was never able to process how you could go from marrying someone to leaving and never looking back. at first, he thought that his dad was just a selfish jerk, but when he met johnny and saw that his parents were also married and simultaneously abusive, he convinced himself that all marriages were bound to end up that way. he believes that if the curtis’ lived longer, they would have eventually gotten bitter and tired of each other, because in his mind, that’s just what couples do.

ponyboy:

- confidence. he has a lot of insecurities, and they’re shared pretty evenly between physical and non physical. he doesn’t like his body or his eyes. he doesn’t like how impulsive and dramatic he is.

- security. not in himself, but in life. he’s permanently on edge, feeling anxious about who’s going to be around the corner and what would happen if he got jumped and how many Socs he’d be able to fight off in case anything happened. his parents’ sudden deaths did not help this. he feels like life is constantly tossing him around, and he never feels completely safe.

- emotional outbursts. this isn’t exclusive to ponyboy, but he struggles with it the most. he hates getting upset with people, and he hates hurting other people’s feelings. when he’s feeling too many things, he starts to speak without a filter and gets mad at the littlest things, and he knows that it makes everybody around him feel bad.

- fitting in. in contrast to johnny’s insecurity, ponyboy wants nothing more than to fit in. he’s tired of being the only greaser in his classes, he’s tired of his isolated taste in movies and theatre, he’s tired of being a track star, and he’s tired of all the pressure put on him since he isn’t average.

steve

- masculinity. his dad always enforces an unrealistic standard of being strong, independent, and logical. steve is inherently all of these things, but the pressure he feels to keep it up weighs him down.

- comparing himself to others. it started in middle school when he noticed all of the people liked sodapop more. from then on he couldn’t help but feel like soda was more attractive and charming, darry was stronger and smarter, two-bit was funnier and cooler, dallas was tougher and unbothered, johnny was more likeable and down-to-earth, and ponyboy was more creative and well spoken.

- addiction. there was a time in steve’s life where he was getting high every day. at first it was fun, but then he had to quit track because he wasn’t as athletic as he used to be. it ruined his health and motivation. he started working on cars more to keep himself busy, and it helped a lot, even got him a job.

- hyperindependence. steve’s biggest character flaw is that he can’t ask for help. whether it’s asking for help in school or asking for soda to hand him a tool in the garage, steve can’t bring himself to do ask. it makes him feel like he’s not good enough to do it on his own.

[bing-bang-bingo]

- 4x3: c. 40:00 Cas comforts Dean after Mary makes a deal w/ Azazel

- 4x7: 15:50 Dean stops Sam from shooting Cas, then Sam mentions that he’s “heard a lot about him”

- 4x7: 39:00 Cas tells Dean he prayed he’d save the town, then he tells him about his doubts and Deans future troubles

- 4x10 & ???: Dean calls “last night on Earth” his best line. He uses this line on Cas

- 4x10: 27:15 “Castiel has this weakness. He likes you.”

- 4x10: 32:50 Cas looking jealous and sad when Dean kisses Anna

- 4x16: 7:30 Cas tells Dean he got in trouble for showing emotion and getting to close to Dean. 8:20 “I would give anything not to have you do this”

- 4x16: 39:00 Cas warns Dean to be careful while Dean is in the hospital, they discuss the first seal and saving Dean from hell

- 4x18: 31:30 Cas tells Dean how to save Sam from Lilith even though he’s not allowed to interfere

- 4x20: 38:00 Deans face when Cas tells him he “learned his lesson when he was in heaven”

- 4x22: 30:40 Cas considers rebelling for Dean. 33:00 He does. 35:20 He fights multiple Archangels for Dean

- 5x1: 5:45 Dean denies Cas’ death 8:25 “I learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch”

- 5x1: 31:00 Cas saves Sam and Dean from Zach

- 5x3: 6:10 Cas-“I need your help because your the only one who will help me”

- 5x3: 10:20 Dean fixes Cas’ tie and jacket

- 5x4: 38:50 “Don’t Ever Change”

- 5x8: 38:20 Dean makes Gabriel bring Cas back, then makes sure he’s okay

- 5x13: ?:?? Cas won’t let Dean meet with Anna because it’s not safe

- 5x17: 30:30 Cas and Dean discuss what it’s like to have a deadbeat dad

- 5x18: 25:15 Cas kicks Deans ass for trying to sacrifice himself

- 5x21: 3:50 Cas and Dean bickering like and old married couple then Cas gives Dean a heartfelt apology.

- 6x17: 18:55 “No you’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you.”

- 6x17: 38:00 Sam: “So you killed 50,000 people for us?” Cas: *looks at Dean*

- 6x19: 25:20 Bobby reassures Cas that they’ll be back soon, Cas acts like a worried and disappointed wife.

- 6x19: 36:25 Cas yelling “Dean!” when Eve bites him

- 6x19: 40:00 Dean is the only one who doesn’t think Cas is working with Crowley (he’s wrong but it’s sweet)

- 6x20: 4:50 Dean v v worried, “But Cas you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”

- 6:30 Crowley implies that Cas is distracted by Dean and tells him he reeks of the Impala.

- 7:20 Cas says that Dean taught him how to care and what to care about. Then Cas saves Sam (for Dean)

- 13:15 Cas says that the worst part of working with Crowley (basically his sworn natural enemy) is that it hurt Dean and that he hated lying to him.

- 25:20 Cas refuses to ask Dean for help because he has “sacrificed too much” even though it means Cas could die.

- 26:00 Crowley tells Cas he has a way for everyone to get a happy ending “with all possible entendres intended” while Cas stares longingly at Dean.

- 33:00 Dean is close to tears when he learns that Cas is working with Crowley, Cas says he did it to protect Dean.

- 35:25 “Dammit Cas we can fix this!” “Dean it’s not broken!” He then tells the boys to run from the demon cloud and Dean gives him the saddest look in the world before being forced to leave him behind.

- 38:00 Cas watches Dean sleep. “I’m doing this for you Dean. I’m doing this because of you!”

- 6x21: 22:40 “I do everything you ask. I always come when you call and I am your friend. Still despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats I’ve just saved you yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

- 6x22: Dean to Cas- “Don’t make me lose you, too.”

- 7x2: 5:35 Dean nearly cries on screen when he thinks Cas is dead

- 7x17: Cas says “I remember ~you~” as soon as he regains his memories.

- 7x17: Cas ask why Dean didn’t tell him all the horrible things Cas did. Parallels the conversation Karen and Dean had about telling Bobby she remembered him killing her and her telling Dean that he had never been on love before.

- 7x21: The face Dean makes when he sees Cas again plus the prolonged eye contact when Cas says Deans name.

- 7x21: Hester telling Dean that when Cas first saved him from Hell he was lost- parallels- Lucifer/Jess saying she was dead the moment she met Sam.

- 7x23: 8:50 “Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.” Meg to Dean about Cas

- 7x23: 32:45 “I’m sorry but I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

- 7x23: 36:50 Cas steps in to protect Dean despite spending the whole season avoiding fighting and saying he won’t fight.

- 8x2: 25:00 Cas ran away to keep the Leviathans away from Dean. Dean refuses to leave purgatory without Cas.

- 8x7: 20:30 Deans reaction to seeing Cas all cleaned up.

- 8x7: Dean convinced himself that it was his fault Cas was still in purgatory because he’s a sweet idiot boy who hates himself

- 8x7: 35:00 The whole Dean and Cas conversation about purgatory and Cas doing stuff that puts him in danger.

- 8x8: 12:30 Cas just casually going through Deans stuff and Dean not saying anything.

- 8x8: 13:00 Cas offering to watch over Dean while he slept

- 8x8: 15:15 Dean talks to Cas about feelings and heaven even though Dean hates talking about feelings.

- 8x17: Cas fights Naomi’s mind control for Dean

- 8x23: 22:50 Dean and Cas sadly discuss Cas closing the doors of heaven and say goodbye

- 9x1: Dean prays to Cas and tells him he isn’t mad about the angels falling.

- 9x1: Cas’ first instinct is to explain himself to Dean then to come help him.

- 9x1: Dean begs Cas to “for once, look out for yourself.”

- 9x3: 36:45 Dean to Cas after Cas came back from the dead “Don’t you ever do that again!”

- 9x6: Literally just Dean trying desperately the whole episode to hang out with Cas

- 9x10: 26:00 Dean and Cas talk about how Cas is doing and Dean offers him a rare sincere apology. Plus the “I prefer the term ‘trusting’. Less dumb, less ass.” dialogue

- 9x18: Cas’ little smile when Dean makes a joke about Honor Bars and Cas is just so happy to hear his voice.

- 9x18: Metatron’s illusion of Gabriel calls Cas Dean’s boy-toy

- 9x18: Cas can tell something is wrong with Dean, then Cas yells at Dean about getting the Mark of Cain

- 9x22: Cas chooses Dean over all of Heaven once again

- 9x22: The Cas and Dean conversation about the three of them being enough when an army wasn’t and Cas giving up an army all for Dean

- 9x23: “I’m blaming you for taking Cas’ grace.”

- 10x1: 5:00 Cas about Dean- “I miss him.”

- 10x2: 9:00 Cas’ reaction to learning that Dean is a demon

- 10x3: The conversation between Dean and Cas at the end of the episode. “You look terrible” “You on the other hand, your looking good.”

- 10x5: Deans reaction to Cas and Dean actors hugging and holding hands

- 10x5: “Put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” *looks directly at fake Cas*

- 10x9: 15:00 Cas tells Dean he’s a good role model. Then asks him if he’s okay and when Dean lies and says he is he pushes it further. Dean makes Cas promise to kill him if he goes Dark

- 10x22: Dean and Cas fight and parallel Cain and his Wife.

- 10x23: Dean sees Cas’ bloody face in the mirror

- 11x1: Cas being more worried about Dean than himself even though Cas is under a spell that will kill him.

- 11x2: Dean calling Cas and stressing out when he doesn’t answer

- 11x3: Dean trying to coax Cas out of the attack dog spell, refusing to fight back when Cas was attacking, freaking out when Cas took a minute to wake up, refusing to let Cas heal him (because he “had it coming”), and refusing to let Cas apologize (because “there’s nothing to apologize for”).

- 11x10: “Dean, I came as soon as you called.” Also: “Stick your tongue out.” Dean-*does*

- 11x11: Dean realizing that something is wrong with Cas (while he is possessed by Lucifer)

- 11x11: Mildred says that Dean is pining for someone else(probably meant to be a reference to Amara, but she told him this after he had seen Cas for the first time in a few days.)

- 11x14: The sadness on Deans face when he realizes Cas is Lucifer and then his determination to save Cas

- 11x15: Dean getting kinda dark when he talks about what he’s willing to do to save Cas and he prioritizes saving Cas over bearing Amara.

- 11x17: Dean once again prioritizing saving Cas over saving the world. Sam reassuring Dean that they’ll save Cas (even though Dean didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him)

- 11x17: The camera zooming in on Dean after Michelle says that there is no normal after losing the man you love.

- 11x18: Dean refuses to put Lucifer in the cage or let him fight Amara while using Cas as his vessel.

- 11x18: The difference in the way Dean looks at Lucifer vs at Cas

- 11x18: Dean about Cas: “Lets go find that idiot and bring him home.”

- 11x19: Dean has been looking for leads non stop for a week since Amara took Cas

- 11x21: Amara uses Cas’s heart to find Dean, then shows Dean images of Cas beaten and bloodied to convince him to turn against Chuck

- 11x23: Dean’s face when he realizes Cas is back and Lucifer is gone.

- 11x23: Dean tells Cas he isn’t stupid and that he always helps

- 11x23: Cas: “Dean are you okay? How do you feel?”

- 11x23: Cas hugging Dean super tight before he goes off to die. Dean entrusting his life’s purpose (look after Sam) then thanking him for everything.

- 12x1: Cas seeing that Dean is alive and hugging him while his voice breaks.

- 12x1: Cas taking the job Dean have him very seriously

- 12x2: Dean adorably venting to Cas about his mommy-issues

- 12x3: Dean- “Morning sunshine want some coffee.” Cas- “No thank you.”

- 12x7: “Well at least I don’t look like a lumberjack.” They are such husbands

- 12x7: “Engaged in what Cas? killing you?”

- 12x8: Cas being so worried about what happened to Sam and DEAN that Kelly escaped.

- 12x9: Mary-“You left them!” Cas- *voice breaking* “Dean told me to go!” Also, just Cas looking so hard for them.

- 12x9: Cas blaming himself for Sam and Dean being taken

- 12x9 Cas knowing how long the boys have been gone down to the hour.

- 12x9: Cas’s voice and eyes when he hears Dean’s voice on the phone.

- 12x9: Cas killing Billie because “You mean too much to me” and “The world needs as many Winchesters as it can get.”

- 12x10: Poor Sam having to deal with Cas and Dean while they fight like an old married couple.

- 12x10: Dean immediately telling Ishim to go to hell when he insults Cas

- 12x10: Sam telling Dean to go to Cas when Dean thought Cas was in trouble

- 12x10: Cas immediately believing Dean about Ishim even though they’re mad at each other. Dean about to let Ishim kill him to save Cas.

- 12x10: Ishim comparing Dean and Cas’s relationship to Ishims relationship with his human lover, then saying he was going to cut Cas’s human weakness

- 12x11: “And Cas is my best friend.”

- 12x12: Dean about Cas- “My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here...”

- 12x12: Dean stressing out and voice breaking as he tries to comfort poisoned Cas

- 12x12: LITERALLY TOLD DEAN THAT HE LOVED HIM WHILE CAS WAS DYING

- 12x12: *looking at Dean* “I love you.” Then adds “I love all of you”

- 12x12: Cas- “Run.” Dean- “Cas, no.”

- 12x12: The look Dean gives Cas when he won’t stop staring at him after he’s healed.

- 12x14: Dean says some very harsh stuff to Mary after finding out the reason they Cas almost died at the lake house was because Mary was working for the British Men of Letters

- 12x15: Dean could tell something was up with Cas after talking to him for less than a minute, over the phone.

- 12x18: Sam trying to make Dean feel better about not hearing from Cas.

- 12x19: Dean literally always acting like a scorned wife when Cas comes back after long periods of time

- 12x19: Dean made Cas a mixtape

- 12x19: Cas- “I ~needed~ to came back here with a win for you.”

- 12x19: Cas- *gesturing between Dean and himself* “You mean... we?” Dean- “Yes, dumbass, we.”

- 12x23: Dean screaming for Cas when he attacks Lucifer and trying to chase after him forcing Sam to drag Dean back through the rift. A direct parallel to Dean pulling Sam away from Jess and the fire in Pilot

- 12x23: Dean kneeling next to Cas’s dead body looking up at the sky completely devastated.

- 13x1: Dean couldn’t bring himself to say dead when referring to Cas

- 13x1: Dean PRAYED to GOD to bring Cas back

- 13x1: “We just lost ~everything~. And now you’re gonna bring ~him~ back.”

- 13x1: Dean personally wrapping Cas’s body and giving him a hunters funeral.

- 13x1: The look of complete devastation on Dean’s face when he burns Cas’s body.

- 13x3: Dean refusing to help save Jack because he blames him for manipulating Cas and getting him killed.

- 13x4: The Empty to Cas: “I know what you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” He loves Dean and Cas fears that Dean doesn’t love him back.

- 13x5: Sam being worried about Dean who has given up all hope since Cas died.

- 13x5: Dean being so distressed thinking Cas is gone forever that he tries to kill himself

- 13x5: Dean seeing Cas alive again and they both have tears in their eyes.

- 13x6: Dean hugging Cas and saying he’s been gone for “too damn long”

- 13x6: Dean being immediately happier and nicer to everyone once Cas is back

- 13x6: Cas saying “Yes. Yes, he does” (in response to Jack saying Dean really likes cowboys) with the tone of an exhausted spouse.

- 13x6: “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”

- 13x6: Dean made Cas watch Tombstone with him.

- 13x6: Dean and Cas dresses like cowboy husbands.

- 13x6: Cas saying “I’m your huckleberry” to Dean in a deep accent and Dean looking away.

- 13x6: Their undercover names are Russel and Kilmer

- 13x14: The whole scene where Cas and Dean fight Gog/Magog and act like an old married couple.

- 13x14: The angry, dark look Cas gives Donatello when he tries to kill Dean

- 13x16: “Dean has him by the thigh!” Cas, jealously: “He ~what~?”

- 13x16: “and that includes the Cartwright twins.” Cas, again jealously: “what did you do with the Cartwright twins?”

- 13x19: Cas angrily confronting Naomi about forcing him to kill a bunch of Dean clones.

- 13x21: Cas secretly sliding Dean more pizza when Mary and Sam left the room.

- 13x21: Cas having to hold Dean back from going after Sam. Dean would have beat the shit out of anyone else who tried to stop him.

- 13x23: Cas trying to stop Dean from giving himself to Michael even if it meant losing Sam AND Jack

- 13x23: Cas sitting alone in the bum jet with tears in his eyes after Dean left

- 14x1: Demon: “How is it you lost Dean. I thought you two were joined at the... everything.”

- 14x1: Dean trying to save Cas from Lucifer then vs Cas trying to save Dean from Michael now

- 14x3: The look that Dean and Cas give each other when Dean comes home.

- 14x9: Cas almost being happy seeing Dean happy. And then having to force himself to not be happy so he doesn’t die.

- 14x12: Cas being phased at Dean for wanting to put himself in the box with Michael forever

- 14x14: Cas is the only Dean will let talk to him about Michael and be honest about how Dean feels

- 14x14: “No, it’s on us.”

- 14x14: Cas’s voice breaking when he talks about the possibility of Dean dying one day.

- 14x18: The pure self loathing in Cas’s eyes when he feels like he failed Dean by not telling him about Jack’s soul.

- 15x2: “You asked ‘what about all of this is real?’ We are.” THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE EVER. (Plus later Eileen and Sam have the same conversation but they get to kiss because homophobia)

- 15x9- 20:00 Dean said that they lost everyone they cared about, then added Cas specifically. Then he says “I had to bury him” not “we”

- 15x9- 23:00 Dean cries when he can’t find Cas. Then he prays to him and apologizes for letting him go. He falls to his knees praying to him and fully crying

- 15x12: “I created the world.” *shows Destiel*

- 15x15: This time when Dean sees Cas leaving the bunker, he stops him. (In reference to Cas saying “you didn’t stop me” when Dean got mad at him for leaving)

- 15x16: This is the the only version of Cas that rebelled for Dean. This universe is literally being saved repeatedly because of Cas’s love for Dean

- 15x18: CAS CONFESSES HIS LOVE TO DEAN then goes to mega hell for being gay

Anyway, Cas loves Dean and Dean LOVES HIM BACK, OKAY?!?!? Feel free to add more

[not-bcring]

peachpitocs:

“Woah.”

Braidyn looks at her, head cocked like a puppy, heart racing. He’d prepared himself to help her through something, or to listen and not talk too much, or to celebrate with her. But he wasn’t ready for her to just go off on how much she likes him. Girls don’t do that. People don’t do that. Or, they do, but about Braidyn the carefully curated pretty boy who’s just barely suggestive enough in his jokes to get teenage hearts racing from afar. Not about… Braidyn Shapiro. Braidyn Shapiro is just some guy, made of jokes that fall flat and too much love and fists through drywall and all the least glamorous parts of fame.

But Kanade likes that. She likes Braidyn Shapiro, who’s her boyfriend even when he’s not airbrushed.

Insane.

Keep Reading

「 ☆ 」   Braidyn Shapiro is, by far, the most adorable person in the world.

Kanade will gladly argue that point with anyone, even her past self who had been CERTAIN people like him couldn’t exist. Those who are considerate and caring and charismatic... and not driven toward her sister or simply away from her, whether Hibiki is even part of the equation. For as long as Kanade can remember, she’s known that she was destined to be hated. If it wasn’t her own sister tearing her down, it was the people around them. Or worse, praise and adoration thrust upon her so long as she acted a certain way. Went against the very core of her being, beaten down into the subservient doll that was apparently worthy of love.

No one could ever love her for who she really is... No one but Braidyn, anyway. Although Kanade knows even that isn’t entirely true. Despite her claim to trust him, there are secrets she STILL keeps close to her chest. Admissions that could make him look at her as a monster instead of the ‘ kind and gentle ’ girlfriend he’s built her up as in his mind. Not that he’s wrong. She is kind and she is gentle, and she is every bit of the loving person he’s witnessed. But people DO contain multitudes... and some of her ‘ parts ’ may not be as easily accepted as her prettier aspects. Not that Kanade is ashamed of these blemishes. Far from it. 

But HER feelings on the matter aren’t what could ruin the best thing she’s ever had.

Braidyn starts traveling down a sports-paved road of thought and Kanade happily accompanies him. Not looking away from her boyfriend— it’s a comfort unlike any other to have his eyes on her —fond smile doesn’t falter as he flexes his knowledge, Kanade fascinated by how much he knows on the subject. Intelligent as she may be, she still needs to LEARN facts for them to take permanent residence in her brain. Whenever Braidyn shares with her, it’s new. It’s refreshing. It’s wonderfully and uniquely Braidyn. Especially when it ties back into how sweet he is. 

With every reassurance, every well-meaning word out of her boyfriend’s mouth, Kanade decides that she has to be completely honest with Braidyn... Eventually. Not today though. Not after this. Not after finally being loved. Tomorrow, for sure. Or the next day.

Soon. Very soon... Once she’s prepared herself for whatever happens.

❝  That makes perfect sense.  ❞  She replies, soft and sweet and sincere in the way she looks at him with open adoration.  ❝  Because I feel the same way about you... Minus the sports analogy, because I don’t know much about sports.  ❞  Lightly giggling, the sound remarkably sweet, she moves closer to Braidyn and gingerly runs a hand up his arm,  ❝  That’s why I never get tired of hearing you talk about them. You’re so passionate and intelligent and genuine... You’re incredible. Every moment I spend with you proves that to me.  ❞  Hands sliding up Braidyn’s chest, Kanade grabs onto his shirt and starts to carefully guide him down as she says,  ❝  You’re so much more than stupid tabloids or mindless fans think.  ❞

❝  Yeah, you’re hot. The hottest guy I’ve ever met... But you’re ALSO the one who makes me laugh. Who is there for me when I’m upset. Who encourages me no matter what. Who makes me feel like anything is possible.  ❞  Like being loved... Or in his words, maybe loved a little bit. Unlike Braidyn, Kanade has no reservations about using such a big scary word. This might be the last chance she HAS to, depending on how well it goes... and how soon she comes clean about her past. So, with lips slowly growing closer with each statement, smile brushes Braidyn’s mouth, 

❝  ... I love you too.  ❞  

Praying that her softly murmured confession doesn’t freak out her boyfriend— it should be fine... he had been the one to bring up the word first, right? even if he softened the blow by adding some deniability —Kanade presses a kiss against Braidyn’s lips, in the hope that he’ll start to kiss her back.   「 ☆ 」 

[cloudspotterclub]

damaged (s.c.)

Pairing: injured!shang-chi x reader

Summary: You didn't know how much of Shaun's past he'd hidden from you until you got a call that your boyfriend was in the hospital.

Word Count: 943

Warnings: whump, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort?

a/n: I had a dream about Shang-Chi and I am now soft for this man. This is basically what might've happened if the bus fight had gone worse.

"Oh my God, Shaun!" You gasped quietly, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth.

"That you, baby?" He groaned, trying to shift his body to face you.

You rushed to the side of his bed, gently pushing him back down. It killed you to see him like this—so battered and beaten and different. Not cracking corny jokes and being your hype man, but lying in a hospital bed after nearly getting killed by god knows what.

You took an uneasy breath as you sat on the chair beside the bed. "Hey, yeah, it's me. Please don't try to get up, I'm right here."

You couldn't help the tears that pricked at your eyes as you watched the love of your life struggle just to open his eyes, his head lulling to the side as if he was too weak to hold it up on his own. Despite that, he still managed to reach for your hand and squeeze it.

"What're you doing here?" His words came out slow and slurred together. "Thought you were in New York."

You were grateful his eyes were closed as you felt the tears streaming down your cheeks. "Um, yeah, I was," your voice trembled, "I came back when I heard you were, um, hurt."

He pinched his eyebrows together at the cracks in your voice. "Sweetheart, are you crying?"

You stifled a sob and roughly wiped your face with your free hand. Your body shook with the effort to keep your emotions at bay, and you knew he could sense it.

"How could I not when—when you're half dead in a hospital bed?! And I have to hear about it from some sorcerer? Nobody is even telling me what the fuck happened, Shaun—can I even call you that anymore?"

The dam broke then, and you allowed the sobs to escape you at the thought that you came so close to losing him entirely. You buried your face in one hand while he gently stroked his thumb across your other.

In all honesty, you weren't really mad at him for leading this whole other life. It was more the fact that he could've died and you would've been completely blindsided—the most important person in your life being ripped away from you with no prior indication that anything was wrong. It was the frustration that you were kept on the sidelines and helpless because you didn't even know there was a fight to join, and you were stripped of the chance to stop him from getting hurt.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," he frowned, voice low, "I thought it'd be safer if you didn't know about my past, but I didn't consider how much I was hurting you. I'm sorry."

You sniffled, guilt settling as you saw the remorse splashed all over his face.

His eyes fluttered as he tried to keep them open. He took a slow, uneven breath, "I wasn't honest about my family. My dad isn't a good man, and after my mom died, he trained me to follow in his footsteps. I ran away, but his men found me, and now here we are. I guess I was rusty."

Your eyes scanned over the small cuts littering his face. Both his eyes had swelling and bruising beneath them, probably because of the hit that broke his nose. He cringed with every movement, and you could hear how he struggled with each breath. You wanted to rip your eyes away, but a part of you was afraid he'd disappear entirely if you ever did.

He was still trying to focus his vision on you as he let go of you and shakily brought his hand up to wipe your cheek. "Hey, no more tears for me, alright? I'm still here. You should see the other guys, this is the face of a man who won."

You let out a strained laugh, cupping his hand on your face. "I'd hate to see what it looks like when you don't win."

He shot you a tired smile, "Don't worry, I've got too much to live for."

You let out a deep sigh as you looked over him again. He was trying so hard not to fall apart for your sake, but you could see right through him. "Alright, Shang-Chi, move over."

"You know, you can still call me Shaun. Feels weird to change it up now." He slowly shifted over to make room on the bed, and you tried not to look too worried at how his face contorted in pain. You settled beside him, careful not to put too much pressure on his side.

"Here, lean your head back," you instructed, shifting the pillow underneath his head. You pushed his hair out of his face and continued stroking it back as his features melted into relief.

"You don't have to keep it together for the both of us all the time, Shaun. And I never want you to hurt yourself ever again just to spare my feelings." Your voice dropped to a whisper, "I love you and I will always, always be here."

His eyes fluttered closed and he mumbled something incoherent as you softly kissed his temple. The uneasy look on his face was almost entirely gone, and you were sure he'd drifted off when his labored breathing evened out a few moments later.

You were still far from okay, but you knew he was never going to let himself rest until he was sure you were alright. It was ridiculous, really, how much discomfort he'd put himself through so you wouldn't worry. You gazed at his sleeping form, tears welling up once more.

[cherrycocaineee]

18. Sodapop - A Love All Too Real

*Warning - Smut; spanking, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, car sex*

“My baby did so well.”

“Cum one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

*Sodapop’s p.o.v*

   Mickey Mouse was playing loudly throughout the living room, trying to muffle the sounds of the rain beating against the roof. It worked a little, distracting all of us from the brewing storm outside. Two-Bit was sitting next between Steve and I, completely mesmerized by his favorite showing playing on the screen. It wasn’t getting late but most of us were ready to pass out in the spots we sat in; me including, my heavy eyelids sinking each time I blinked. However, we were shaken away when there was a rapid banging noise on the door. I pushed myself up off the cushion and peered towards the closed door like all the others, wondering who could possibly be standing outside in this weather. The knocking came again, except this time with a voice behind it.

  “Seriously guys! Who else would be knocking at your damn door right now?!”

  It was Anni.

   Ponyboy hopped off the floor, leaving Johnny sitting there alone, and opened the front door quickly. Anni was standing there, her hand over her left eye, soaking wet from the rain fall. She glared at him.

  “Took you long enough,” she grumbled.

 “Sorry Anni,” he said, “we expected you to be at home.”

  “I was at home. I got kicked out.”

  When she stepped into the house, the multiple bruises on her skin, fresh blood was collected on her skin and clothes, and when she removed her hand from her eye you could see how bad it really was. Her eye was black and purple, and I could see that some of the blood vessels in her eye were popped due to the red color collecting in her eye.

  “Holy shit,” Two-Bit muttered, his eyes staying off the television now.

 No one cared about Mickey Mouse playing anymore, or how tired they were. We only cared about Anni.

She placed her bag down by the door as she passed Ponyboy, who was still in shock that he couldn’t even move to close the door. Steve did it for him, not wanting rain to get inside the house or on him.

  “Anni,” Darry said, standing in front of her, “this is the third time this week.”

  She looked at all of us before turning back to Darry, the unfazed look on her face never wavering, as she shrugged.

  “So?” She muttered.

 “So,” he continued, “you can’t keep livin’ like this.”

  Anni waved her hand in front of her, rather annoyed that she had to hear this again. Anytime she came over covered in bruises, Darry or one of us would tell her she couldn’t live with her dad again. It was always met with the same unfazed look on her face along with a light shrug of the shoulders. Anni crossed her arm over her chest; I noticed that she didn’t even wince. She was so use to the constant abuse and beatings that they didn’t even hurt her physically anymore.

   “Why not?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

 “Anni, you do realize that your eyeball is red right? Like the blood vessels in your eye have busted?” Dally inquired, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

 “Well yeah, I’m going to clean myself up and wait for it to heal like always.”

   “But what we’re sayin’,” I said, standing from my spot, “you don’t deserve to be beaten every time you go home. You deserved to be cared for and go to sleep safely.”

  Once more, I noticed that the unfazed look in her eyes never wavered. She was so numbed to the abuse it didn’t seem wrong anymore. Instead, she turned away from all of us, facing the open bathroom ready to head inside so she could avoid the problem.

  “Doesn’t matter to me. Lots of things shouldn’t happen but they do. People take what they want from me whenever they please; the want sex, they don’t have to ask they just take, if every night someone wants to beat the hell out of me so that they feel better then so be it. I’m nothing more than a toy; a disposable piece of shit that people tend to keep around until they’re done using me.”

  With those final words, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. My heart broke into hundreds of pieces after hearing her say those words. Anni wasn’t a bad person, she just never knew what it felt like to be loved and cherished. All I wanted to do was love and cherish her. To lay beside her at night and hold her. To pepper her face with dozens of kisses while caressing her small form. To just show her what it felt to be cared about instead of used. But she was so brainwashed into thinking she didn’t matter, that she was nothing more than a throwaway doll, that she couldn’t see it.

  Ponyboy wrapped his arms around him.

 “We can’t keep lettin’ her live there, Darry,” he said.

 “I know that, Pony, but unless she wants to leave there isn’t anythin’ we can do,” Darry said, “I’m goin’ to go make her somethin’ to eat.”

  That was a normal routine when Anni came over all beaten up. She normally wouldn’t have eaten for two days before the beating. I had asked her why she didn’t eat two days in advance and she told me that it helped her not throw up when her dad kicked her in the stomach. Once more breaking my heart as I heard her tell me that she could anticipate when the beating was coming and how to make it hurt less.

 I followed Darry into the kitchen, Steve and Ponyboy trailing behind me. He was already getting all of the sandwich stuff out, dinner having been served a while ago and with all of us here, there were no leftovers. I grabbed the mustard off the table and watched Pony take out some bread before spreading the yellow condiment on her sandwich. We worked in silence, not sure what we could say to one another. Darry was right; unless Anni wanted to leave her parents, to have a better life, there wasn’t much we could do.

   As soon as we finished making her sandwich, and Steve added half a pickle to the plate, Anni came walking in while drying her hair with the towel. She was wrapped in nothing but a towel. In the kitchen light I could see her bruises more prominent.

  “Soda, can I borrow some clothes?” She inquired.

 “Sure thing, doll,” I said, rinsing my hands off and following her to my room.

   I opened the drawer and took out a pair of gray sweatpants and a black wife beater that revealed a lot on the side. It was something I wore around the house when it was hot.

  “You know, Pony has clothes that might fit you better,” I joked.

 “Yeah, probably,” she laughed, “but they aren’t as comfortable as yours.”

  I handed the clothes to her, looking at her beaten up face. I frowned.

 “Does it hurt?” I whispered.

 “No more than it normally does,” she shrugged, “can you close the door on your way out? Please, and thank you.”

  Nodding my head, I left the room and closed the door behind me. Anni came out five minutes after wearing the sweats and wife beater I’d given her. It was much bigger on her than I’d expected, revealing all of her sides and if she moved her arms a certain way you could see the side of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra, not that she needed one because her breasts were small and perky.

  A lump formed in my throat as I watched her. I had to force myself to look away. She plopped down on the recliner, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair as Darry walked in with her sandwich. He handed it to her and smiled.

 “Eat up, kid,” he said.

 “Thank you,” she said, smiling back.

Soon the rain went away; Darry had gone to sleep an hour ago, having to get up for work in the morning. Pony had fallen asleep on the floor beside Johnny, Dally left with Two-Bit to a party that was close by, and Steve was sprawled out beside me completely knocked out. His mouth was partially opened which made me laugh a little.

  Anni was still awake. She walked over to me, her arms folded over her chest.

  “Want to come outside with me?” She asked, “I need to smoke.”

 “Sure, come on,” I said, standing up carefully not to wake Steve or the others.

  I closed the door behind us and she shivered. The rain had made the air incredibly cold, and she was hardly wearing anything. Her pale skin glowed in the darkness, and in the small, illuminating porch light, I noticed that her nipples were erected.

 “Come on,” I said, leading her to Darry’s truck.

  We climbed into the backseat. I reached to the front and grabbed the spare keys underneath the visors. I turned the truck on and let the heater kick in so we could warm up. Anni was digging through her bag, removing a lighter and a container out. I watched her open the container and take out a joint. Anni didn’t smoke cigarettes, couldn’t stand the taste, but she did smoke weed and I was pretty sure it was because it numbed her from everything. I watched her light her joint and hit it, a cloud of smoke releasing from her perfect, soft, pink lips. The smell of weed collecting in the car and I knew I was going to have to air it out before we went in. Darry had the nose of a hound.

  She looked over at me and held out the joint, “want some?”

  “No thanks, doll,” I smiled.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she continued to smoke the joint. Her unwounded eye turned hazy and became a bit red. With each puff, she was getting higher and higher; this obviously not being the first time she smoked tonight. She slouched down in her seat, the shirt riding up a little bit. I guess I’d been staring too long because she faced me and raised her eyebrow.

  “Why do you keep staring at me like that?” She questioned.

 “Just takin’ in all of your wounds,” I whispered, half lying.

  She let her eyes land on the bruises decorating her arm before dropping it and taking another hit of her joint.

  “You know, I’m use to it but they still hurt like hell.”

  “You shouldn’t be use to it,” I muttered, “I hate seein’ you like this, Anni.”

  Anni put out her smoke, putting it back in her purse and folding her arms, “why?”

  “Because I care about you. Every time I see you all bruised up like this, it pisses me off. I swear if I ever see your dad-”

  “You’ll do nothing.”

  Our eyes met; hers cold, and distant, mine shocked, and sad.

  “If you do something it’ll only make it worse. I’ll just get beaten ten times worse than the last. He’ll do everything in his power to prove he’s got total control over me, and he’s right.”

  I reached over and touched her shoulder. She flinched a bit but I didn’t pull away; her skin was cool to the touch, the heater barely keeping her warm. Anni sighed.

 “It’s just how it is, Soda. Leave it be.”

  “How can I do that?” I asked, “you don’t deserve it.”

 “Because I’m not important, Soda!” She snapped, “if I left today, all of you would stop thinking about me! If I died tomorrow, you’d forget me as soon as you saw the next girl walk by! I’m replaceable! A nobody! Unloved!”

 “You aren’t unloved!” I yelled back, “and maybe to your shitty dad you're replaceable, but to me you’re irreplaceable! You’re so fucked up in the head, you don’t even know what love is because they’ve got you all messed up.”

  “So?! What do you want me to do about it!”

 “Let me show you what it’s like to be loved, Anni.”

  She started nibbling on her lip as I got closer to her. She didn’t move away from me though, as I leaned in closer and closer. The air between us almost felt thin, I could hardly breathe. I could see her chest moving up and down fast. Was she nervous? Scared? I couldn’t tell. My forehead pressed against hers.

  “I’ll stop if you want,” I whispered, “I’d never do somethin’ to you that you aren’t comfortable with.”

  It took her a moment to answer and when she was capable of doing so, it came out as more of a hushed whisper.

 “I’m fine,” her voice croaked, “you can continue.”

She was definitely nervous. My words, along with my actions, had her flustered and confused.

Nodding my head, I pressed my lips against hers. Her lips were just as soft as I’d imagined them to be. When I pulled away, it was only for a second, going back into and kissing her deeply once again, this time more passionately. I softly pushed her back, keeping my lips on hers, and crawled between her legs. Her hands reached up and wrapped around my neck, her fingers tangling themselves into my hair. A soft groan left my lips as I felt her fingers tug gently.

   I pulled away from her, a small amount of saliva pulling from our lips. Her eyes were hazy with lust and confusion.

  “I’ve got you, doll,” I whispered, “I promise.”

  She nodded her head. Leaning back down, I attached my lips to her neck and started leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along the nape. Softly sucking and nibbling on her flesh, I felt my cock harden at the sound of her breathy moans. A sound that I wanted to be familiar with forever. I bit down on her neck and she gasped, jolting forward, her chest pressing against mine. Her nipples were still hard. I swirled my tongue around the spot I bit down on before biting down on a different spot, repeating the process.

  “Soda,” she whimpered.

  It was the first time I’ve heard her sound so vulnerable.

  “That’s a good girl,” I praised, returning my attention to her face.

  The black eye didn’t bother me, neither did the blood in her eye. She was as beautiful as she always was.

  I grabbed the rim of my shirt and pulled it off, revealing my tanned chest. Her eyes lingered a little lower, her teeth biting her bottom lip while she scanned over my body. I chuckled then reached for her shirt. She lifted her arms letting me pull the shirt over her head, revealing her exposed, bruised flesh. I groaned at the mere sight of her breasts. They were perfect; like beautiful clouds. I barely licked one of the hardened nipples and her back arched, eyes rolling to the back of her head. I captured her lips with mine once again, this time kissing her hungrily.

  I pulled her off the seat and into my lap, breathing heavily as I started kissing down her neck again, tracing the purple hickeys I had left. My hands fumbled with my zipper first, my cock aching to be released from their restraints. Not bothering to lift her off of me, I lifted myself off the seat a bit and pulled my jeans down. Anni wrapped her arms around me, tugging my hair a bit as she kissed me hard. I grabbed the sweats she was wearing and dragged them down, my hands grazing her bare skin causing her to shiver. I loved watching her shiver after I touched her. It didn’t happen often with Anni, she hardly ever reacted to anyone touching her, so to see, to feel, her shake from my touch sent a rush of pride through me.

  Anni lifted herself off of my lap as I pulled her sweats all the way off. She was completely naked in front of me now.

  “God damnit, Anni,” I groaned, “so fucking beautiful.”

 A soft laugh left her lips as she watched me pull my boxers down finally releasing my growing member. There was no need to wait any longer, no need for foreplay, no need for me to poke and prod to make sure she was okay. We were both ready as if we'd been waiting for years. I lined myself up with her and pushed her down onto me, groaning at the feeling of her tight walls gripping me. Anni buried her head into my shoulder and moaned softly at the feeling of me filling her up. Only a second passed before I started thrusting my hips back and forth, our skin slapping against each other’s. Small pants were leaving her mouth as she gripped my shoulders tightly, keeping herself upright despite being drilled into. Even though I wasn’t going too fast right now, the position allowed me to bury myself deep into her sweet little cunt.

   “Holy fuck,” I moaned, “that’s it baby.”

  My pace quickened as she started bouncing herself up and down; the truck started to rock a bit at the movement happening inside but we didn’t care. Anni’s moans became more erotic and lewd; she sounded almost angelic and I loved that I was the one making her feel this way. Her head fell back as she continued to ride my cock, meeting each thrust coming from me. I moved my left hand up to the back of her head and pulled her hair a little, just enough to get her to face me. I didn’t want to hurt her. She moaned at the feeling of me pulling her hair.

  “Fuck, Anni, you sound so beautiful,” I groaned, pulling her closer by her hair so that our foreheads could meet, “such a beautiful girl for me, huh?”

  She could only nod, her body shivering.

  “Soda, I’m close,” she whimpered out.

  “Let it go, baby,” I moaned, “I’ve got you.”

 Those words with the quickening pace of our thrust sent Anni into euphoria. She screamed out, her legs violently shaking as she came all over my cock. I held her in place; one hand gripping her side while the other stayed tangled in her hair. I removed my hand from her back and smacked her perfectly, plump, sweaty ass. She yelped, rocking her hips into mine causing me to groan. Giving her ass a few more smacks, enough to pleasure her, I turned us over so that I was on top of her. My eyes danced across her sweaty body. I started pouring kisses onto her face and mumbling soft “I love you’s” as I continued to thrust into her faster.

  “Soda,” she moaned, “I can’t.”

  “Shh,” I whispered, holding back a string of curse words, feeling her walls tighten around me, “you can do it baby. Come on.”

   I slammed into her repeatedly; removing my cock all the way at the tip and then slamming back into her. Her eyes rolled back as her hips arched. I could feel myself getting closer to my climax as I watched her, feeling her dripping cunt swallow me over and over again.

  “Cum one more time for me,” I cooed, “I know you’ve got it in you.”

 Anni couldn’t form any more words, all she could do was nod her head and let me coax her with my sweet words. Soon her body spasmed again and her legs shook harshly. Her screams rippled through the air, but I didn’t bother covering her mouth to hide them. I didn’t care if people heard and I didn’t care if that caused people to come over to see what was happening; all I wanted was to be focused on Anni.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” I croaked.

  My thrust becoming sloppier, I watched her body go limp as pools of sweat collected on her chest. I thrusted into her three more times before spilling my cum into her fleshy, pink walls. Coating every inch.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, “oh my God, fuck!”

  I stopped moving, unable to ride out my high for too long. Anni was panting hard. I pulled myself out of her and brought her to my chest. Rubbing soft circles onto her bruised back as she gasped for air.

  “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

   When Anni finally did catch her breath, she rested her head against my bare, sweaty chest. A tired smile appeared on my face as I watched her look up at me.

  “My baby did so well,” I praised again.

  We stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like a lifetime. Her glistening skin glowed in the moonlight, the cool air chapping her dry lips making her lick them repeatedly, her breast heaving up and down as she took in large amounts of air. Her black hair was not sweaty and clinging to her beautiful face. I reached my hand down and stroked the bruise on her cheek.

  “I love you, Anni,” I whispered, “so fuckin’ much. You’ll never be replaceable to me. I only want you.”

  Anni chuckled and closed her eyes, she was definitely sleepy.

  “I’ll hold you to that, Soda. If you love me, maybe I can let myself love you too. It may take a while but I’ll do it for you.”

  Grabbing the blanket that Darry normally kept inside his truck, I draped it over us and sighed. She buried her head into my chest and let her heavy eyes close. The sound of my heart lulling her to sleep.

  “No matter how long it takes,” I said, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll help you love again because you deserve it. That and the world.”

   The sudden realization of Darry coming out in the morning to see us asleep, naked in his car with the lingering smell of sex, hit me. A low chuckle escaped from my lips. I knew I was gonna hear it in the morning, but right now, I didn’t care. It felt like it was just Anni and I, all alone. That’s what I wanted.