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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months ago

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Dog Tags (3)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When a mission goes wrong, Bucky gets his Dog Tags back.

Disclaimer: This is part three for one and two. Mentions of serious injuries, blood and being hospitalised. Angst, bit of fluff here and there, hurt/comfort, Bucky stays by reader's side. Sam giving Bucky his own reality check, platonic!Wanda, swearing. Left kinda open ended in case I decide to write part four? Not Proof Read.

Bucky stared down at the dog tags in his hands, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the blood stained letters. He had to take a deep breath before the tears started flowing again.

You were meant to be on a simple recon mission. You’d done them a thousand times. Maybe you’d come back with a bruise or two, but you still came back.

This time, his phone had rung throughout his room just as the clock turned 4:00 am. An agent had found the tags on her person. They knew they weren’t hers, but they were definitely someone’s.

Bucky had gotten to the hospital in under an hour. You’d still been in surgery by the time he arrived, but the nurses had brought out your personal belongings in a large plastic bag.

Your clothes; blood stained to hell. Your Shield issued weapons were empty of bullets. Whatever had happened, you’d emptied your clip, plus your three backups. Your knife lay at the bottom of the bag, stained with blood, too.

Bucky couldn’t work out if it was yours or someone else's. But he did know one thing for certain. The blood that lay splattered over his tags, as he pulled the chain from the bag, was yours. You never wore them outside of your uniform. You kept them close to your chest. It couldn’t be anyone else's.

Bucky had left a message at Hill’s desk, as well with Sam explaining what had happened. What he knew, at least. Hill was sending someone to the mission base to find out more.

“Mr Barnes?”

Bucky took in a deep breath as he stood up, clasping the tags in his palm. Maybe if he squeezed tightly enough, he’d be able to feel you.

“Yes.”

“Your wife is now out of surgery. We’ll be keeping her under observation for the foreseeable, but once she’s situated in a room, you’ll be able to sit with her.” The Doctor told him.

Bucky just nodded. “Do you know what happened?”

“I know it’s not common, but I’ll bring you her more detailed medical chart.” They told him. “There was too much extensive damage to talk about off the top of my head.”

Those words hit Bucky in the chest, harder than anything else had ever done.

“But she’ll-” Bucky couldn’t bring himself to talk.

The Doctor just nodded. “She’s going to need a lot of physical therapy. Thankfully nothing broke within her legs, but the damage to her muscles will make her training a lot harder than it should be for a while.”

Bucky nodded.

“But she’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.”

The Doctor nodded. “Thank you for the tags.”

Bucky was a little confused as he followed the doctor’s finger, pointing to his hand. The dog tags? Why was she thanking him for the dog tags?

“If your wife hadn’t been wearing them, we wouldn’t have known who to contact.”

Wife.

Bucky felt himself chuckle inside. If you were awake and could hear the doctor now, you’d have probably made some disgusted eye roll and comment over being even associated with him.

“Oh, yeah.”

The Doctor smiled. “I’ll come and get you when she’s ready.”

“Thank you.”

She just nodded with another soft smile before walking away. Twenty minutes later, he was being walked down the hallway where he stood outside of your room for ten minutes before opening up the door.

You had at least a dozen wires hooked up to you, aside from the standard hospital gear. Bucky just stared at the monitor for a while, watching your heartbeat print onto paper.

Eventually, he sat in the chair beside your bed and looked at you. In that moment, he’d give anything to have you yell at him. Cuss him out, threaten him, roll your eyes…anything.

“They…” Bucky cleared his throat, looking down at the tags in his hand. “They told me you should still be able to hear me…and that talking helps. I know you’re probably mad it’s me who’s here, but you can’t blame me for this one, doll.”

A weak chuckle escaped Bucky’s lips as he looked from his hand and to your sleeping frame. “They think we’re married, by the way. Mostly because of the dog tags they found on you. I’ve…I’ve got em’ right here. They’re safe. You’re safe, doll. Just…just kinda need you to wake up soon. Maybe tell me to piss off. Not that I’d leave you anyway, but that’s kinda our thing, right? Fighting?”

Bucky went silent for a while as he looked at you.

“I need you to fight me, sweetheart.” Bucky told you. “So you’ve gotta mend and pull through all of this. Whatever happened out there in the field…that’s not the end of your story. It can’t be. I won’t let it.”

Bucky could hear your voice in his head. “You’d don’t have a choice in it, Barnes.”.

Bucky told you a few more things, like how he’d called both Hill and Sam. He told you that he’d text Wanda, “She’ll get it once she lands. I’m sure she’ll be flying through that window soon.”

But, eventually, he stopped talking. He just let the sound of your steady heart fill the room. It was proof you were still alive. You were still here.

On the days where Bucky couldn’t sit with you, Wanda took his place. Or Kate. Or Sam. On the odd occasion, Joaquin sat with you. Bucky had walked in on plenty of PowerPoint presentations of how his suit was better than Sam’s old one.

But when he did sit with you, his mind would wander to memories of you and him. Like the training room when he’d told you he knew you had his dog tags, or when he’d helped you when you got hurt a few months back.

But one stuck out to him in particular. Plenty stuck out to him as time ticked by, but he was reminded of this one as he looked at the side table beside your bed. Your knife lay on top, still in its protective covering.

Less than three weeks before you’d landed in hospital, Bucky had been training with you.

The main noises being made were grunts. As you hit his chest, as he knocked your legs down, as you twisted his arm, as he flipped you onto the mat, as you kicked his legs from beneath him, as you both rolled across the mats before you landed on top, trapping him in place.

“Give in yet?”

“Do you?”

You were about to question what he meant, but then you felt it. Cold and sharp; he had your knife, again. But this time, it was pointed against your side.

“What?” You hesitated for a second and looked away. Bucky took his opportunity.

In two simple moves, you were on your back staring up at him with your own knife gently pressed against your skin.

“Give in.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at his glowing smirk. “Yes. Fine. Now get off me.”

Bucky chuckled and stood up, lowering his hand down to help you up. At first, you swatted it away. But he held it out again, “Come on.”

Reluctantly, you accepted it and he helped you stand. “You’re focusing too much. Too in your head. You need to relax.”

Bucky flipped the knife over in his hand so he was pinching the sharp blade. He handed it over to you and you swiped it up. “Thanks.” Your voice grunted a little before you placed your knife back in its place.

“You know, if you wanted to, you could train with me more often.” Bucky offered as he walked away. “I know you and I are…whatever we are. But I have training that isn’t exactly found in a Shield manual.”

“I’m fine.” You said, avoiding looking at him as he stood with his back to you. You had stared at him in this fashion one too many times. It was only a short time before someone caught you doing so. Even worse if it was Bucky.

“It’s not an issue. Hell, we don’t have to even talk-”

“I said I’m fine.” You didn’t mean to raise your voice when you spoke to him. You regretted it instantly. You sighed. “Look, I know you mean well. And, thank you. But I’m okay.”

Bucky watched you, over his shoulder. You walked away from the mats, grabbed your water bottle and sat down on one of the opposite benches.

“What is it?”

“What?”

“Do you have a problem with me or something?”

You sighed. “Bucky.”

“I get you and I don’t exactly get along-”

“I don’t have a problem with you,” you cut him off. “I just-”

You gave a short sigh. There were so many reasons why it wouldn’t work if he was the one to train you. He wouldn’t know it, but you’d become more distracted by him. And for some reason it was written into the heavens that if you and Bucky spent more than ten minutes alone together, things in the air started to get…close. Too close.

But the main thing was your undisclosed feelings for the super annoying, massive pain in your ass, super soldier. The longer you spent around him, so close to him, the harder they were getting to manage.

It was only a matter of time before he figured out the truth.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Can we just leave it at that? Please?”

Bucky watched you for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Forget I ever mentioned it.”

You just nodded.

Later that evening, Bucky had been with Wanda. And he’d been avoiding the topic of you ever since he walked through the front door.

“Did something happen between you two?” Wanda just flat out asked him.

“No. Nothing happened.”

“You’re sulking, so I know something happened.”

Bucky shrugged. “She just doesn’t want my help. I’ve tried being nice. But she’s just so…her. It’s annoying.”

Wanda nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna need more information than just…you not handling your school boy crush very well.”

“I don’t-” Bucky shut his mouth as he whipped his head around to look at Wanda. “I don’t like her like that.”

“Doesn’t like who?” Sam asked as he walked through the door.

“Bucky. Not liking Y/n.”

Sam just barked a laugh as he opened up the fridge and put his groceries away. “Ha! That’s a bullshit lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What-”

“Bucky,” Sam was practically laughing. “You’ve had a crush on her for god knows how long. I don’t know what twisted bullshit you both have going on that prevents you from talking like normal human beings, but even I know you saying you don’t like Y/n is nothing but a complete and utter bullshit lie.”

Bucky looked at Wanda for backup but she seemed to be on Sam’s side.

“You know, maybe if you…I don’t know…talked to her rather than fight her-”

“She fights me!”

Sam just looked at him. “You fight each other.”

“Maybe you should just try and talk to her,” Wanda told him. “Might just clear a few things up.”

Sam sat down on the arm of the chair. “You’ve had feelings for her for a long time, Buck. Maybe it’s time you did something about it.”

Bucky just sighed.

“How long have you guys been married?”

Bucky hadn’t noticed the nurse walk inside to your hospital room, at first. “Sorry?”

“I’m sorry to ask,” she apologised as she changed out your IV and drew some blood. “It’s just…I’ve seen a lot of couples pass through these doors and I’m yet to see ones with a connection like yours.”

Bucky sat up. The nurse could read the confusion on his face from a mile away.

She just stepped to the side and pointed at the print of the heart rate.

“See these spikes here?”

Bucky nodded.

“These are from when you’ve been with her. It’s good they’re going up. It means she’s recognising her surroundings. At the very least, the people in it. You’re healing for her.”

Bucky just looked at your still sleeping frame. He was helping you heal?

He was helping you heal?

The nurse smiled again. “How long have you two been married?”

“Not long,” Bucky answered. “But we’ve…we’ve known each other for years.”

The nurse smiled. “Who made the first move?”

Bucky thought for a moment. “She did. She saved my life.”

And you had.

You’d been one of the new agents placed with the team. In the middle of a forest, Bucky had noticed every tripwire save for one. As something came flying over head, you’d swiped his legs from underneath him and pinned him down.

“You’re welcome,” you whispered.

That had been the first time Bucky had met you. It had also been the first time he’d looked you in the eyes. He could have happily drowned there and then. Which scared him. More than he knew what to deal with.

“And now you’re here saving hers,” the nurse smiled. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Is there anything I can get you? Blankets, pillows?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“She’ll be okay, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky just nodded and watched as the nurse left. As he turned his head, that was when he noticed your chart. They still kept you as Y/n Barnes. Nobody, including Bucky, had bothered to correct them. If anything, it meant Bucky still learnt about your injuries and your healing process.

It also meant he got access to stay with you for as long as he wanted. Which, if he didn’t have to work and if Sam didn’t come and drag him outside every few hours, he’d stay the whole time.

It was a month or so more before you finally woke up.

When Bucky had gotten a text from Joaquin telling him to get to the hospital quickly, he’d dropped what he was doing and came running down the hallway of the hospital ten minutes later.

“What’s happening?”

“I-I don’t know.” Joaquin told him. “I was just holding her hand and she moved. Like, she squeezed my hand.”

“What?” Bucky moved past Joaquin and to your side, leaning his hand on the side headboard.

“Y/n? Hey, doll? Can you hear me?”

Bucky held your hand in his. Nothing happened. “I know you don’t like me all that much, but if you can hear me, can you try and squeeze my hand?”

Again, nothing.

Bucky looked at Joaquin.

“I didn’t dream it.”

Bucky looked back at you. For a split second, he pushed some of your hair from your face. “Doll, if you’re awake, please. I just need you to squeeze my hand.”

Again, nothing.

Until there was something.

“Go and get a nurse.”

“On it!” Joaquin practically flew out of the room.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Joaquin had been talking to you, telling you that you were gonna be okay. Then you heard Bucky’s voice which was quickly followed by a rough hand gently holding onto yours.

And when you finally opened your eyes, you saw him. Standing beside your bed, holding your hand, looking like the world had finally started moving again.

It was a few hours before you came around properly. And when you did, it felt a lot less hectic. Everything was peaceful and quiet. You had time to look around. There was a steady beeping somewhere.

A heart monitor.

You had different wires and tubes sticking out of you. The lights weren’t as bright as they’d been when you’d first woken up.

But the thing that caught your eye the most was the sleeping frame of Bucky, hunched over your bed. Then you felt it. His hand, still in yours.

You tried to squeeze his hand but eventually it hurt a little less and he stirred awake before shooting up.

“Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“How long have I been out?”

Bucky answered you honestly. “Almost two months. The damage was extensive. Can you remember anything?”

You just nodded. “I think I blacked out after the building collapsed because I don’t remember anything after that.”

Bucky stood and pressed a button on the headboard of your bed before sitting beside you, clasping your hand in his. If it had been any other time, you would have taken your hand right back.

But in that moment you needed comfort. You needed to feel safe.

You felt safe with Bucky.

But then you gasped. “Shit.”

“What? Are you hurt? What is it?”

You sat up and touched your chest and neck. “Your- your tags. I-”

Bucky just pulled the chain from his shirt. “There’s right here.”

You visibly relaxed but then you tensed as you watched Bucky remove them. “What are you doing?”

A small chuckle left him, “Just stay still, would you?”

“It’s not like I can exactly run away right now.”

Bucky smiled to himself before lifting the chain up and over your head. “There.”

You looked at him, wondering what he meant by all of it. “They’re your tags, Bucky.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I know they’re safe with you. They always looked better on you, anyway.”

Once Bucky knew you were okay, he’d wiped the rest of the tags clean. He’d been waiting to lay them back on you. He didn’t want to do it while you were sleeping. He needed you to fight him first.

He needed proof you were alive.

That was when the door opened and a nurse walked inside. “You’re awake! I must say, you nearly gave me and your husband a fright earlier. The doctor hadn’t predicted that you would wake up this early.”

You looked at Bucky and whispered, “Husband?”

“Just go with it,” he whispered back.

It wasn’t until an hour or so, when both the Doctor and nurse had left, that you spoke to Bucky again.

“You wanna tell me why we’re married?”

“They found my tags with you. They called me and…”

“You never corrected them?” You’d asked that question a lot calmer than Bucky had been expecting.

“It meant I got to stay with you longer. And that they’d tell me what was going on.”

“You didn’t need to do that, Bucky.”

Bucky was honest with you. “I’m glad they called me first.”

You hand clutched the tags dangling from your neck. “They really thought you were my husband?”

Bucky chuckled. “If anything, the tags made sure you came home.”

In the silence as you and Bucky looked at each other, you felt the coolness of the metal in your palm. His tags had brought you home. His tags had brought him to you. His dog tags made sure you weren’t alone. And something told you Bucky had the same idea.

Which was only confirmed when he attended almost every physio appointment with you.

“How’s she doing, doc?”

The physio smiled as they held their arms up, in case you fell. “She’s doing great.”

“She’s tired and pissed off.” You answered truthfully.

“If it makes you feel any better, I brought your favourite snacks from that store you and Kate found.”

Your hand gripped the two parallel bars as you slowly walked from one side to the other. “How the hell do you know about that store?”

“I asked Kate. She told me.”

As the phyio’s pager went off, Bucky offered to take over for a few minutes to help you. And, considering the medical staff still believed you and Bucky to be married, you’d both decided to just keep the act up.

So, slowly walking beside you in case you fell, Bucky helped you turn around and walk back down the parallel bars.

“How’ve you been feeling?”

“You mean other than tired and pissed off?”

“Yeah.”

“Sore,” you admitted. “Bored. I can’t wait to get back home.”

If Bucky was being honest, he would say the same thing. Even if you did spend more time fighting each other, he missed it. He missed you.

“Neither can I.” The honesty slipped out from Bucky before he could think about any awkward consequences.

You paused and looked at him. “What?” Your voice was a little softer than usual.

“What?” Bucky shrugged. He’d said it. There was no taking it back. “It’s boring without you. I get we might fight the whole time, but without you I’ve got no one to keep my ego in check.”

Bucky earned a laugh from you as you looked away to keep walking. And he laughed, too.

You had to admit. Laughing with Bucky rather than groaning was a nice change.

And it only got easier from there on out. Your groans had turned to laughter, your scowls had turned to smiles and the roll of your eyes had turned to tears of laughter.

And slowly, the same things happened for Bucky, too.

Eventually, the ten minute window you and Bucky spent together turned into twenty, then forty and before either of you knew it, hours had passed.

You were both together and, surprisingly, still alive.

Part Four

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pearlescynt · 15 days ago

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I'm Not Glass

{ Pairing } - non-idol!Hyunjin x afab!reader

{ Genre } - forced proximity?, smut, pwp, acquaintance to lovers, developing situationship

{ Synopsis } - A vacation with your group of close knit friends? What could be better! Well, you were close with all but one person. He's an acquaintance, even after five years. A lot of things can change on vacation though... All you need is a tiny room, a bean bag, an olive branch.

(Or; the one where Hyunjin is too awkward to make any kind of move, and when you finally realize he may reciprocate your horny, lustful feelings... you make the move for both of you, or at least a comment to get things going...)

{ WC } - 5.2k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, forced proximity, smut, pwp (plot? what plot? Porn without plot!), shy Hyune, making out, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), slight nipple play, hair pulling, fingers in mouth, seriously he's fucking your mouth with his fingers, drool, spit as lube, praise kink, manhandling (as best he can in a tiny room on top of a giant bean bag), Hyune is sensitive, he is also worshipping you, unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), overstimulation, teasing, cream pie, sweating, slight aftercare, overuse of religious puns, a forgotten about game of super smash bros, everyone was basically waiting for you two to fuck but neither of you knew that, smug comments from Seungmin, not so sly comments from Jisung

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - Hello, I come with crumbs after... 9 months of inactivity from me... I sincerely apologize. I've made enough sad, emotional and apologetic posts though, so onto the story!

I almost renamed this fic to (I'll be honest, I'm tempted to rename it after the fact still): 'Bean Bag Shennanigans' or 'Bean Bag Mishaps' OR 'Bean Bag Escapades'. Then when I came up with the puns, it was going to be 'Blessed Bean Bag' or 'The Sanctified Bean Bag'. Can you count how many times I said "bean bag" in this fic? I think I've typed and read it so much, it doesn't feel like an actual word or piece of furniture anymore lmao.

I hope you enjoy 🩷

"Did you wanna play something? We could go check out the game room. Felix said there was a switch down there." You drawl in Hyunjins direction.

You’re laying flat on your back on a couch, staring at the ceiling. It was relaxing at first, but now you're quickly getting bored.

"Sure, it seems like everyone else is already preoccupied." He shrugs, and pops a halved strawberry in his mouth from the bowl he’d been eating. He gets up from the table where he was sketching, abandoning his work temporarily.

You’re on holiday with your friends for the week, and currently inside the ‘bnb’ you've rented together. The place was huge, with almost too many amenities.

There’s an indoor pool, a hot tub, karaoke, and a pool table. There’s lots of activities scheduled, places to visit, and sightseeing for everyone to do. But it was still nice to be able to have things to wind down with when you were inside. So everyone had dispersed not long after arriving, choosing to explore the surroundings and settle in.

Out of all your friends in this group, Hyunjin is the one you have the most... distance with. It has to be some sort of weird cosmic joke that you’ve been left alone with him right now. In the 5 years your little friend group existed, someone always usually stuck around to act as some sort of buffer between you two. Intentionally or unintentionally, you didn’t know. It’s not that you two hate each other, you just have never clicked with each other, not like you did with the others. You simply existed within the friend group together.

It seems now is an opportunity to get to know each other more in depth.

You both go down stairs, walking across the finished basement, passing Chan and Changbin. They’re at the pool table, both too consumed by the game to truly acknowledge you two. You keep walking through the room, ignoring the thuds above you. It’s the stomping footsteps and tumbling of your friends, play fighting and shouting. Hearing them brings a smile to your face.

Yes, you were all still stuck in childish ways in your mid to late twenties, but adulting is hard. Everyone deserves some fun, and a break once in a while.

They would even pull you into their shenanigans, often pretending to wrestle with you. Tumbling around on the ground, until one of them conceded from you tickling them nonstop.

Finishing your trek across the bottom floor of the rented house, you both stood in front of a door with a multicolored LED sign on it. It reads 'arcade'. You're unsure of what to expect, but Hyunjin opens the door, and you’re both met with... a tiny room?

If it weren't for the mounted tv, the shelf next to it that holds a switch, controllers, a box of tissues, and a few games. You'd think it was a large closet... Actually, taking another look around, that's probably exactly what it is... with a giant bean bag taking up the whole floor.

Seriously, you've never seen a bean bag that big. On top of it are a few throw pillows and a blanket.

"Well. This is certainly cozy." He says.

And you don’t know his tone well enough to know if he’s being sarcastic or snarky. So you huff out a laugh in response.

Grabbing the controllers, you sit on one side of the bean bag, leaving enough room for him to sit next to you. When he sits though, you both immediately slide into the middle of it, pressed up against each other. The two of you start chuckling awkwardly, and try to maneuver yourselves on to your own respective sides, but nothing works. You both just end up falling back into the middle every time.

Eventually you give up, no longer wanting to struggle and adjust, and instead just relax.

"I mean I can play like this." You shrug.

It truly didn't bother you.

"Mmkay." He hums, sinking into the bean bag further with his side flush to yours.

You scroll through the games on the switch, deciding on Super Smash Bros, but it needs to be updated. So you click on 'update', and sit up to dock it. Now you just need to wait for it to be finished.

You lay on your back again, submerging further into the bean bag, and Hyunjin, and pull your phone out.

Nothing else is planned for today, except cooking dinner when it’s time. Like you said, everyone wanted the chance to settle in before the real vacation started. So you’re in no rush to do anything, or go anywhere, but still. You’re getting more and more bored by the second, and Hyunjin is never much of a talker around you.

After scrolling in silence, you glance up at the screen. The game was only 24% done downloading, and you sighed.

“NO FAIR!” You hear Changbin yelling, with loud footsteps up the stairs.

You also hear Chans giggles as he follows after him with much softer steps.

Well. Now you’re really alone down here with him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you look and see Hyunjin scrolling on his own phone. Surprisingly it's a comfortable silence, and you feel the awkward fog disperse while being alone in this tiny space. In your perspective anyways.

That is, until you notice that he starts fidgeting. His hips and shoulders are wiggling, trying to get comfortable. And his fingers have a death grip on his phone, and he’s double tapping a bit too harshly as he likes video after video, seemingly without even watching the whole thing. He goes to adjust himself again, lifting his thigh a bit before bringing it back down, accidentally squeezing the soft skin of your outer thigh under his own.

"Ah, sorry!" He says as a blush forms on his cheeks, and he instinctively goes to rub your pinched skin.

But then he seems to realize what he did by trying to comfort you, and retracts his hand like he’s been burned.

"It's fine." You laugh.

His shy demeanor is astonishing, especially when you’ve seen him act quite the opposite in the past with your other friends.

You're both adjusting again, trying to fit comfortably on the damned bean bag. It results in you both laying down on your sides, your back to his chest. He's unsure what to do with his arms. One is holding his phone above your head and resting on the bean bag, the other is twitching and hovering above you. He seems to want to rest it on your waist, but is unsure.

“You can hold me, you know, I don’t mind. We all cuddle anyways, it’s nothing new. It will probably be more comfortable anyways.” You mutter.

Which is true. You all are a cuddly and touchy friend group. Snuggle piles happen quite frequently, much to certain people’s dismay, especially on movie nights. Yet somehow, every time they happen, you and Hyunjin always end up the farthest apart from each other.

That doesn’t matter now though, you’re trying to reassure him and extend an olive branch. There’s no reason the two of you can’t be just as close as you are to everyone else.

“Oh, uh, okay. Thanks.” He manages to stutter out.

It’s cute, he’s always been a bit timid in his interactions with you. Not that there were ever too many. Regardless, he lets his arm fall over you, let’s his fingers dangle in that area below your navel, but above your pant line. Then he’s back to scrolling on his phone, still above your head.

You scoot back a bit, just trying to get more comfortable, but he stiffens. He’s immediately trying to back up, and ends up dropping his phone with a quiet thud, as it slips to the floor between the bean bag and the wall. His hand comes to your hip, squeezing surprisingly tight so he can hold you in place.

He seemingly wants to avoid his pelvis pressing into you.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry.” He spits out, his grip relaxing on your hip, but not moving so he could keep you still, “I didn’t mean to– well I didn’t want you to– just, I’m sorry.”

It's amusing really, ending up in this situation and position, with someone who is essentially an acquaintance. The two of you never hung out one on one, and only ever saw each other in group settings. Even taking all of that into consideration, this doesn't feel unnatural to you. And you won’t lie, your mind has wandered to impure thoughts about him before.

And there’s no way you’re connecting the puzzle pieces wrong. The way he’s always acted around you, the distance you both kept from each other, it’s got to be mutual.

So you figure, now’s as good a time as any to make a move…

A smirk spreads across your lips and despite his hand desperately trying to hold you still, you move backwards, snuggling closer to him. "Wanna know a secret?"

You can feel him filling out in his pants, he’s half hard already from barely anything. That gives you all the conviction you need to hopefully initiate something fun.

"Ah, sure?" His voice is shaky, adorable.

"I'm not made of glass, you can touch me. I won't break, promise. Plus," You say in a soft and low voice, "Maybe I like it a little rough."

He looks at you for a second, registering your words, and then slowly nods. Hopefully it clicked for him too.

You're sure it did, because his lips bloomed into a smile, and his eyes lidded. Then with all the sudden confidence in the world, he tugs at you rolling you over. Both of you face to face, as you dipped further into each other. He's staring into your eyes, and then he places a hand on your arm, tracing it up to your shoulder.

"So... you're okay with being touched? Anywhere?" His voice is silky smooth now, and alluring. Not to mention his eyes are sharp with a lustful resolve.

Whatever game you started playing, he clearly just took over.

You go to speak, but he brings his hand to caress your jaw, and holds eye contact with you. Gently, he grips your chin, slowly pulling you towards his face, his eyes darting to your lips. You close your eyes in anticipation, and instead feel his breath fanning your lips. His lips are ghosting over yours. He's waiting for you to make a move.

As confident as this man just was, he's still having you make the first move.

You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain, so what the hell.

Your lips brush against his, and he's kissing you back fervently. He's tender, but desperate. Deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue between your lips. The taste of him is immediately intoxicating. Mint and... strawberries?

You never thought an odder pairing tasted better.

Where he was once too nervous to even accidentally touch you, he had all the intent to make you feel on fire now.

Your bodies pressed together felt so warm. One hand clutching a fistful of his shirt, and the other wrapped around him. His hand slides down your back, resting on your butt and kneading it. Both of your legs are a tangled mess, intertwined in a way that he was able to perch his thigh between yours. He presses his thigh up, and you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a groan.

Something kept changing in him, or maybe it just kept revealing the true version of him, and you weren't prepared when he slipped his other arm underneath you, grabbed you and twisted, hauling your body on top of his. You were straddling him. His hands resting on your thighs, rubbing his thumbs in little circles. Looking down on him, you see the desire in his eyes, and you can only hope he sees the same in yours.

He no longer seems to be shy as he sits up a bit. It seems like he's admiring you, looking your body up and down. You watch as his eyes trail down to your lips, to your neck, to your heaving chest, and then lower... Where your body sat atop his, heat meeting heat. Then he's holding eye contact again as he grabs your hips, rolling you into his hardened length. Your head was clouded with lust and nothing else. He was letting you know exactly what he wanted. So when you started to move your hips of your own volition, his jaw dropped, his eyes fluttered closed, as his breath hitched.

This man is gratifyingly sensitive.

He wasn't gentle this time when he kissed you again. He sat up fully, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. His tongue explored yours, kissing him felt like experiencing the hunger of a starved man. You were more than happy to feed him. He devoured you, and you savored each flick of his tongue. He cards his hand up into your hair from the base of your neck, and a shiver goes down your spine. His touch feels magnified. When he gripped a fistful of hair tightly, you moaned into his mouth.

He tugged you away from his lips by your hair, craning your head back and exposing your throat to him. And you're stuck, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. You want to pout in protest, but when he starts peppering kisses on your neck, you sigh and close your eyes. His lips were so plush and warm as he pressed them against your skin.

He's loosening his grip on your hair, and dragging his hand down your neck. You jolted a bit at him groping your chest. His palm is warm against you, and he gives a little squeeze before massaging your tit. When his teeth nip your collar bone, you're whining and biting your lip. He soothes it with his tongue, and goosebumps bloom across your body. His kisses trail down further until they can't, and he's lifting your hoodie off roughly. Irritated at the boundary between you and him. You feel so overwhelmed with want, that it aches.

You started moving your hips, trying to relieve the throbbing between your thighs. He stops to look at you reverently, his eyes lost in your expression as you attempt to pleasure yourself. You take the opportunity of him being distracted to push him down onto his back, and he grunts as he lands. It gives you a better position to roll your hips against his bulge again, sending tingles throughout your body. His hands find your hips again, and he starts rocking you faster, and rougher against his cock. His own hips meeting yours in sync.

You hear the switch remotes fall off the bean bag, lodging themselves against the door, but you choose to ignore it.

Even through layers of clothing, the sensation feels completely electric, and you sit straight up to catch your breath. But he never stops moving your hips, and you have to bite your lip to silence a moan. He had found a better angle to rub himself on your clit, and you felt the pleasure building slowly. How in the hell does this man get you close without even undressing you?

Sure you've done this before, particularly in the early days of your sexual exploration. Usually in a rushed and fumbled manner, young adults trying to figure out what feels good for them and whatnot. But this man makes dry humping feel like a whole new experience.

He looks completely disheveled underneath you, as he starts to rub and flick your exposed nipples. His eyes boring into yours again is overwhelming, almost unbearable. But you never want him to look away. You were so overheated with anticipation, that his fingers felt so cold against you now. But his lips were still so hot, as you bent down to kiss him again. It was all tongue, and spit, and incredibly messy. That's when he snapped, fully and finally, letting go completely.

He lets out the smallest growl as he flips you yet again, pinning you on your back, both your wrists being held by only one of his hands.

"You said maybe you like playing rough?" He smirks down at you, fingers tracing up your ribs.

"Love it, actually." You answer breathlessly.

He nuzzles into your neck and turns to whisper in your ear, "Good girl."

You're melting at his words, head clouding up with compliance as soon as you hear his praise. Up until now the entire ordeal was nearly silent aside from panting, moaning and groaning. If he keeps talking to you like that, your head is going to be floating away from you.

He's too busy slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts to notice. He sits up on his knees, and has your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one smooth motion. You, however, were kicking them off desperately.

He proceeds to spread your thighs, gazing at your center through those foxy eyes, "Look at this pretty, wet cunt." He mumbles.

You try not to clench your thighs, as he's holding them open still. But he feels your muscles tense. He leans closer, eyes still glued to wear you can feel slick leaking out, and licks his lips. His eyes shoot back up to you, and he tilts his head with a smile.

"Is it for me, angel?"

You whimper at the puff of warm air against you, before letting out a pathetically strangled, "hnng..." in an attempt to say yes.

He's massaging and kneading your thighs up and down. His hand draws closer to where you're craving his touch.

"We’re moving awfully fast, love. I need your consent if you want me to make you feel good. Yes or no?"

"Yes, please, I can't tak-" You're pleading without hesitation.

Before you could even finish your sentence, his tongue is licking a long strip from your opening to your clit. And you let out a pornographic moan.

He peeks up, wetness shining on his chin already, "Now, now. We wouldn't want anyone to find us in this compromising position, would we?"

"No..." You whine, bucking your hips towards his face, uncaring of how desperate you might look.

He just chuckles darkly, "Good, then keep quiet or I'll make you quiet. You'd look so adorable with your panties stuffed in your mouth."

Fuck, you had no idea he was like this. You thought he was the adorable one, all timid and cute and shy. Clearly he’d been hiding this other side of himself from you. All this time, you could have been experiencing this with Hyunjin. You curse yourself for not trying to break whatever resolve he was clearly holding back from you, earlier.

You clamp a hand over your mouth as he goes back to pleasuring you. His tongue is focused on your clit, teasing you with kitten licks. You need more, and try to roll your hips against his mouth. But he grunted softly while holding one of your hips down.

He’s swirling circles over your clit now, and brings two fingers to your entrance. He slips them in harshly, giving you no time to adjust, and you’re thankful for how wet he had gotten you first. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

"You're doing so well," He whispers against your cunt.

It feels so good, even better when he curls them and starts pumping into you quickly. Reaching that gummy spot inside you repeatedly.

It was nearly impossible to stay quiet, but you managed by panting through it.

Saliva starts collecting in your mouth from it, drool slipping out of your mouth.

You’re so close, you can’t help it when a quiet and whiny "Fuck..." Flies out of your mouth. You knew quickly though, that was the wrong move.

His fingers slow down to a lazy rhythm, still working into you but not enough to push you over the edge. He lifts his head to look at you. A smug smile plastered to his face, "Angeeeeel" He sings quietly, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard.

You hope he never stops calling you angel.

"Didn't I say to be quiet?" He asks as he removes his fingers from your pussy.

"I-I'm sorry, it just... you're so... God, it was so good." You're struggling to find your words, chest heaving, and walls clenching, searching to be filled again.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He vocalizes and climbs up to face you, "I know a way to keep you quiet."

His fingers are prodding against your lips, and you open them automatically. He's shoving them deep, sliding against your tongue. Your lips close around them, and your tongue starts laving at them. You can taste yourself, and feel his fingers caressing your tongue. It’s like he’s teasing you, showing you what you could be feeling a little lower, if only you could be a little quieter. All it's doing is winding you up even more.

He's watching you in awe, his lips parted, eyes glued to your mouth engulfing his fingers. He pulls them out slightly and pushes them back in repeatedly, and you start drooling even more. Spit is gathering at the corner of your mouth and sliding out, his eyes tracking the glistening path it's leaving.

"When we're not in this cramped closet, I'm going to fuck your face like this."

You gurgled a bit at that, and that was enough to push him even further. You didn’t think he was holding anything more back, but you were wrong.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, and kneels, pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up, bouncing off his stomach. He spreads the mixture of your wetness and saliva from his fingers onto his cock, and lets out a soft moan. Giving himself a few pumps, he lines himself up with your entrance, still on his knees.

He was looking down at you, seemingly admiring how fucked out you looked before his cock even entered you. You’re looking up at him expectantly.

Without warning he thrusts into you, this time pausing for a second. You moan again and that's when he lays on top of you, kissing you. You taste yourself once more, just on his tongue this time. Nearly all your senses are overwhelmed, and you feel your mind slipping into the abyss.

He whispers against your lips, "You need something in your mouth constantly, don't you, love?"

You whimper softly, and that triggers him to start moving, barely any build up to him snapping his hips against yours. His fingers slip back into your mouth, and his head drops to your shoulder, nosing against it and humming. He was whispering sweet praises into the crook of your neck, you were barely registering it.

“You feel so good, love.”

“I’ve imagined a lot, but I never imagined you’d get this wet for me.”

“You sound so pretty trying to hold back for me.”

”Taste divine, too.”

”Such a good angel.”

You weren't going to last long, you felt about three seconds away from cumming.

What you did register very clearly, was him letting out the softest whimper directly in your ear, and nipping your earlobe afterwards. Then you were falling apart. Pleasure crashing over you, and body jerking against his. He was kissing your neck now, but his pace never faltered. Instead of helping you ride it out by slowing down, he kept pushing you higher. Your thighs were shaking, it felt like this orgasm would never end.

It was hard to find the words you wanted to say in your hazy mind, but you found one,"S-sensitive." You whispered.

At that he did slow down a bit, and faced you again. Pressing more soft kisses to your jaw, cheeks, and lips. And you could breathe again.

"But angeeel," He sing-songed again, "Hyunie made you feel so good, don't you want me to cum too?"

You blinked up at him through teary eyes, trying to see him clearly as he was still slowly fucking you. It was still sensitive, and sore in the best way.

"Answer me love."

Your response was on instinct at this point.

"Yes sir."

And his eyes darkened, his grip on your thighs tightened and he pushed your knees further into your chest.

"Good girl." He praised you again, and you whimpered.

He gave no mercy though, skin slapping against skin as his hips jerked roughly into you. This time it was him clamping a hand against your mouth, he knew immediately you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet.

Your walls clenched around him, and you were in shock at the fact it felt like you were about to cum again so quickly. He grunted softly, eyes squeezing shut, and hips faltering.

"My angel feels so. fucking. perfect." He whispered, and punctuated it with one last pump into you.

His jaw dropped, and he was holding back strangled noises as he emptied his load inside you.

You were squirming, you’re so close, just a little more and you could–

But your thoughts were blown away when he brought his fingers to your clit, and started rubbing in quick circles. Your breath stuttered, and he still held his palm over your mouth. You were grateful, because you were cumming again in seconds, a long and muffled whine breaking through.

He didn’t keep going this time, he tapered his motions off, and as soon as he retracted his hand you were gulping for air.

“Fuck.” You panted.

He chuckled lowly, wiping the sweat from his brow with his inner wrist, and pushing his hair back off his face. Those piercing eyes were watching you still, as you heaved for oxygen.

“Holy fuck.” You murmured again.

“I wouldn’t say I’m all that Holy honestly, you’re the angel.” He smirked.

“No, but that was still a spiritual experience.” You laughed breathlessly, trying not to let the pet name fluster you further.

“Mmm… transcendent even.” He hummed.

Then he pulled out of you, and you hissed at the loss and the sting.

“Stay still, I’ll clean you up.”

You listened, letting the bean bag engulf you further as he moved towards the shelves. It’s a good thing this blanket was here. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to clean a bean bag.

He wiped you down as best as he could with the conveniently placed tissues, and then wiped himself before tucking himself back into his pants, and then the used tissues in his pocket.

He slid your bottoms and shorts back on, and tugged your hoodie over your head, before collapsing next to you with a huff. No hesitation in pulling you close to him this time.

You both lay there, eyes closed, listening to nothing but each other's breathing for a few moments. Then he breaks the blissful silence.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to keep going without talking to you about it first.” He muttered, giving you a squeeze.

“Overstimulation is 100% my thing, I’m not mad about it.” You mumble and peek an eye open to look at him.

He’s gorgeous, face still glistening in sweat, down to his neck, and hair stuck to his forehead. You sit up to reach for the tissues, wiping his face and neck down and attempting to pat his hair dry. You push it out of his face again, and look into his eyes.

“If I’m mad about anything, it’s the fact we could’ve been doing that for years.” You smirked.

He’s grinning now, and putting a hand around the back of your neck while you play with his hair.

“Well, we-”

But he’s cut off, because you both hear somebody outside of the door. You both scramble to sit up straight and apart from each other. You stuff the tissues you were holding into your hoodie pocket. Just in time for the door to swing open.

There stands a curious looking Seungmin, eyeing you both and then the surroundings of the tiny room.

"What were YOU guys doing?" He says with a sly smirk.

Jisung’s head pops into view and he's squinting at the two of you suspiciously.

You didn’t even hear anyone come down the stairs, then again that wasn’t a priority when you were too busy getting your guts rearranged sporadically. Just how much did these two hear?

"Oh, we were just playing a video game." You wave your hand at the tv, hoping to come off nonchalant.

"You were playing a game. Really?" Seungmin asks dryly.

“Must have been some game.” You hear Jisung chime in.

"Yeah," Hyunjin chuckles, "why, what's up?”

"Oh nothing, it's just funny how you can play a game with the controllers wedged underneath this bean bag here.” He says pulling them out and tossing them towards you and Hyunjin. “And the game is still on the start screen." Seungmin shrugged.

Hyunjin just smirked, and combed his hair back with his hand. You, however, feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at the screen.

"Anyways." Jisung says, "We've decided we're going to play a drinking game! Come with us!" He says bouncing up and down on his heels and dashing towards the stairs.

Seungmin looks you both up and down, before he hums and walks away. As they ascend the stairs, you hear Jisung not so quietly whispering.

“You think one of them finally made a move?”

Then you hear a smack, and Jisung shouting about violence not being his love language.

You let yourself exhale finally with a shaky breath, and look over to Hyunjin. He’s smiling entirely too brightly for just having almost been caught in a compromising position.

So you smack him halfheartedly in the shoulder.

“Now what was that for?” He says, his smile seemingly not going anywhere.

“Next time, we need a locked door, and preferably not a bean bag.”

“Oh, next time?” He raises an eyebrow, and you want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.

But if you do that, you know it will escalate. And you two still need a proper conversation about whatever just happened, because you definitely want it to happen again. Plus you don’t think you can handle anymore beanbag shenanigans.

“Shut up.” You say instead, with a smile to match his own, “I need a shower before I play, good luck enduring the masses about what just happened.”

“Masses? More religious puns?” He jokes.

And it feels a little strange now, having a complete 180 and being able to converse lightly and joke with him. When not even two hours ago, you struggled with awkward silences. Then again, he was inside of you not even ten minutes ago.

Yeah, a shower, the drinking game, a proper conversation, and hopefully more fucking.

“What can I say, I feel blessed.”

“I feel sinful, in the best way though.” He continues.

“I will deliver your penance later, first, I shower.” You joke and finally get off the bean bag and out of the tiny room.

He follows behind you, as you both walk towards the stairs. But before you can get up the first step, he bends down to whisper in your ear.

“I'll be waiting for you, I am but a devoted worshipper.”

Holy fuck, this man is going to ruin you.

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv

@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu

@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd

@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties

@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @fox-in-y @irrevocable-exposure

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this, as much as I enjoyed writing it, let me know if you did! And I hope I receive a warm welcome back to the world of writing ♡

As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡

But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

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peanutpinet · 10 months ago

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Soft for You - Sylus x Fem Reader

Prompt: “Let me kiss it better”

A/N: yes, I’ve fallen into this rabbit hole and all because of Sylus. There’s just something about white haired men with red eyes that’s 190cm. Hates everyone but you T^T I’m such a sucker for these characters and it doesn’t help that I’m on my period so I decided to make a lil one shot of how Sylus would react if you’re on your period and wanting to cuddle but he was in an important meeting

Warning: None, just fluff (not proofread, sorry, was so into writing this)

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

“Miss, I don’t think it’s a good idea to disturb the boss right now” Luke mentioned, trying to stop you from walking further down the hall

“Yeah, he’s in a meeting right now. And the meeting, well, it’s not really going that well” Kieran added on. “Some of the low workers were trying to steal his weapons and sell them off to a higher bidding at Linkon because we heard that Linkon is currently trying to find ways to get more intel regarding the boss”

You knew that Linkon was constantly trying to uncover the mysterious Onychinus’ leader. Though they knew his name, they couldn’t find anything regarding what he looked like or any other information about him. That’s why Linkon is willing to pay a hefty amount to those who have been associated with him to gather any sort of intel. But you could care less about what political issue was going on between Linkon and Onychinus. What you cared about was that you were in pain because of your period and you wanted to cuddle with Sylus because somehow, he always helped ease your pain.

Not caring about the twins’ warning, you managed to drag yourself all the way in front of Sylus’ meeting room where you could clearly hear his deep voice echoing along with several other voices. It sounded like the meeting had just begun and you suddenly contemplated on going in and disturbing Sylus just to tend to your pain.

However, on the other side of the door, Sylus already knew that you were in front of the door along with Luke and Kieran since he could see through Mephisto’s eyes with his aether core. Though Sylus wouldn’t mind you coming in, he wanted you to come to him first instead of jumping to conclusion that you were actually looking for him.

He learnt that from past incidents where you were actually looking for Luke and Kieran but Sylus jumped into conclusions and thought you were looking for him.

Right as Sylus was about to start the meeting, he could hear both Luke and Kieran’s frantic voices calling out to you. Without uttering a word, Sylus got up but not before making sure the men in the room stay put in their designated chairs. “None of you get up from the chair or I’ll rip your legs apart from your whole body”

After his calm threat, Sylus went to the door and opened it to find you on the ground with both Luke and Kieran holding onto you. When the twins looked up at their boss, the colour from their faces were slowly drained. “B-boss” the twins managed to utter out as Sylus looked at your weak state, basically trying to hold yourself up with the help of the twins.

Without saying anything, Sylus crouched down and lifted you up in his arms and practically carried you into the meeting room where all the other men in the room were staring.

“U-uh boss? We can bring her back to her room and…” the twins didn’t get to finish their sentences as Sylus used his evol to close and lock the door

To say the men in the room were shock was an understatement because who would have thought that the Onychinus leader could be so gentle towards anyone yet here he was sitting in his chair, further away from the others with you on his lap.

“S-sylus?” you uttered, looking up to see your boyfriend looking at you with soft eyes

“You alright, sweetie? I heard you from in here. You looked like you were going to pass out in the twins’ arms. What happened, sweetie? Did someone hurt you?” Sylus asked, his eyes were searching through your entire body for any wounds but you shook your head and leaned on his chest, wrapping your small arms around his waist

“No. It’s that time of the month. It’s the first day and I don’t know why but it’s painful this time” you whined and Sylus couldn’t help but coo at your vulnerable state that he brought you closer to his chest (if that was even possible with how close the two of you were).

“Shhh, it’s alright sweetie. I’m here” Sylus kissed the top of your head as you hummed in satisfaction. “Sleep sweetie, I’ll be here when you wake up, hmm? I’ll try to keep the meeting short and quick for you” Sylus mentioned as he lulled you to sleep

As he stroked your head like a kitten, Sylus the softie was gone as his eyes looked through the entire room with a cold, sharp gaze that if looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead by now. “Now, where were we? Ah, right. Where’s my share in the sales, gentlemen? Or did you think that you could fool me that easily by selling my weapons at a higher price by giving away some information about me?”

***

By the end of the meeting, there was practically no one in the room as Sylus dismissed them all into thin air since he needed to be quick.

Sylus almost cursed at himself for almost going too far with the lowlife men in the room until he remembered that you were practically sleeping in his arms.

Taking a deep breath, Sylus went back to look at your sleeping figure, stroking your head as he kissed your forehead before teleporting both you and him back to the master bedroom where Sylus laid you on the bed.

Leaving you to sleep, Sylus decided to shower and cook up something quick and easy for dinner which was steak and creamy mushroom soup to help ease your pain.

In the midst of finishing his cooking, he heard soft footsteps and a yawn slowly getting louder which he knew that it had to be you. Turning around, Sylus saw your now awaken figure sitting by the counter where Sylus was just behind of.

“Here you go, sweetie” Sylus mentioned, placing down a plate of steak with the mushroom soup he made in front of your sleeping figure

“Thank you, Sy. Am sorry I interrupted your meeting” you yawned, drinking some of the soup that he made while Sylus decided to eat across from you

“It was nothing, sweetie. I’ve mentioned it before. If you ever need me, just come to me. No matter where I am, who am I with, or what time of the day it is. I’ll always be here for you” Sylus mentioned, caressing your cheek whilst wiping the excess soup at the corner of your lips

“But what would those men do now they’ve seen your soft side?” you asked, holding his hand that was on your cheek

“They’re none of your concern. Besides, they won’t be able to spread anymore information anymore” Sylus smirked, making you roll your eyes. “You and your evol”

Chuckling at your behaviour, Sylus decided to feed you the dinner he made. “Are you still in pain?” he asked

Thinking about it for a second, you decided to tease him. “A bit. Mainly because you only kissed my head when the pain I’m feeling is at my stomach”

Shaking his head, Sylus went around the counter and cupped your jaw, making you look at his tall figure. “Is that so? Then let me kiss it better”

#love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus fanfic #lads sylus #lads x reader #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #lads fanfic #lnds fanfic

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jigglyjeon · 10 days ago

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ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ✧

hi!!! <3 i'm jigglyjeon ^-^

if you're looking for the place with all of my content in one, and want to read my other works or see what i have in store next, this is the post for that! i was previously the author of fics like mating call and vixen! you can find mating call and a few other one-shots on my ao3, but not all of my previous work is there because i wasn't always proud of them, i'm sorry!!!

my writing is purely fictional and based on my own creativity in no way do i associate my stories with the members of BTS. in reality, they are just characters.

i do not own BTS or HYBE labels.

please, if you're a minor and under 18 years of age, do not interact with my blog and writing. most, if not all, of my content is written and created for mature audiences only.

lastly, i kindly ask that you do not copy, rewrite, modify, reupload or use any of my work. that would be stealing, babes. you can only find my writing on my tumblr or ao3 under the user jigglyjeon.

latest update on: 01/07/2025

disclaimer: this is a jjk fic focus blog!

f = fluff | s = smut | a = angst

tethered -> s always the good christian girl, you find yourself wanting to impress the guy you’ve been seeing— to show him just how into him you really were.

stuck -> s mountain lion!jk x raccoon hybrid fem!reader: you get stuck in a tree trunk when an unsuspecting predator stumbles across you. oh no!

ghostface -> smau it doesn't take much begging to get him to wear the mask

all the things she said -> a, f, s one | two | three | four | five you and your roommate have a complicated relationship; he’s completely and utterly in love with you, and you don’t know how to face your feelings— you don’t even know what they are to begin with.

when a secret you never intend for anyone to find out gets revealed, everything around you starts to change; for better or for worse? that was for you to decide.

god -> s in an attempt to prove that you aren’t a total goody-two-shoes, you commit to a dare that your friends take too far; they leave you in the middle of the woods, wet naked and alone with no light source. in a turn of events, you come face to face with what lurks beneath the depths of the lake at night.

oh, deer -> s jungkook is a hybrid doctor that lives on his lonesome in a small cabin in the woods, where he tends to wild creatures great and small that inhabit the area. when you show up passed out on his doorstep, he strives to help you, and also tries to figure out where you’ve magically appeared from— because why on earth would an arctic hare be roaming the green lands?

think of me -> a, f, s (tba) forced into a life living in the shadows of the voice you dream to be, you’re a practising ballerina living within the walls of your aunt’s ballet academy. while your dream has always been to sing, it’s not the life your aunt curates for you, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. not when his voice lingers in your dreams, guiding you towards to the spotlight you had always been destined for.

artificial romantic -> a, f, s (tba) thinking you’d never see him again, and that you don’t think you can live without him, you stumble across an ad for a company that is currently trialling companion robots. believing it’d be a harmless thing to heal your heart-ache, you’re unaware of just how strong your robot grows to believe your love is, nor do you expect the lengths he’d go through to prove that to you.

#jigglyjeon #masterlist #jigglyjeon masterlist #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines

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lunawagner · 3 months ago

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Study Results (1/??)

I'll post some of the results now! Firstly, I'll write about how I processed the data for those interested in details. (Please inform me if you see anything wrong or want to suggest a different method. I'm just an average person with an undergrad degree...)

If you just want to see the analysis, skip the data cleaning and test assumptions part! As a disclaimer, I don't know if this is all for now or if I can bring myself to work more on it soon 😭

Special thanks to @xavieslittlestar and @m00nchildwrites for sharing this on bluesky and twitter

Data Cleaning

I realized that some of you guys didn't do the test and wrote the numbers by yourself 😊 And it took me hours to clean the data

As expected, there were some typos, and I corrected them before deciding which participants to exclude. For instance, some wrote 29/20, and since the sum of the subfactor scores is equal to your main factor score, I was able to confirm that it should be 19/20 by doing main_factor_score—other_subfactors = target_subfactor.

After dealing with typos, all participants who entered random values like 0000 and values that didn't align with the main factor scores were excluded.

In the end, the sample size was reduced from ~2600 to 1929.

Test Assumptions

The normality and homogeneity of variance were checked. Most of them fulfilled the homogeneity of variance(Levene's Test), but normality was problematic. I assessed normality based on Kolmogorov-Smirnov(KS), kurtosis, skewness, and Q-Q plot. There were some outliers, but most of them were a natural part of the data, so I didn't change anything about them. Although KS values were lower than .05 , I assumed normality if kurtosis and skewness seemed average (-2 to +2 for kurtosis, -1 to +1 for skewness). For others, I tried trimming, LOG, SQRT, Z, and LN transformations, but still couldn't normalize... Winsorizing would probably work, but there are too many participants(yes, I'm lazy). So, I'm gonna be relatively liberal about normality.

Results

Please note that all of them have small effect sizes (0.2 Cohen's d or 0.1 η2). So regardless of the p values, the actual association between your personality based on the big five and character choices in lads might be small in degree. Also, this is an observational study, which means you shouldn't try to infer a causation or a strict relation (so use it just for your enjoyment, not for fandom chaos~). But I'll put my personal comment under them because I need to enjoy myself too lol

Also, I realised that some of those are changing or disappearing when I compare poc(people of color) and non-poc within themselves. Therefore, the effects might be moderated/mediated by cultural differences as well.

===Trust====

Sylus mains had the lowest mean score in terms of trust(M=11.2, SD=3.42). Yet, they significantly differed only from Xavier mains who had the highest mean(M=12.1, SD=3.28).

Personal comment: I don't know what to make of it. But let me put those here as well.

==Conscientiousness and Agreeableness==

I'll write this together because I have a theory about these results.

Caleb mains' scores were the lowest in terms of conscientiousness (M=74.3, SD=13.7) and agreeableness(M=84.4, SD=13.8). For conscientiousness, they significantly differed from Zayne and Sylus mains. And for agreeableness, they significantly differed from Zayne and Xavier mains. [Agreeableness showed unequal variances, so I used Kruskall-Wallis test]

Personal comment: Honestly, I'm surprised. (Caleb and his girlies not beating red flag/villain allegations)

If anything, I would expect Sylus mains to have lower agreeableness and conscientiousness (first impressions don't disappear).

Then I thought, what if it's related to Caleb being MC's adopted brother? Listen before shooting me. To feel at ease with this setting, you should have higher (but healthy) dissociative tendencies to detach yourself from its real-life associations. And guess what— low agreeableness and low conscientiousness are related to high disassociation [refer to:https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1130527417300373]. Secondly, having a lower need to conform(related to agreeableness and conscientiousness) with others might be making it easier for some people to choose Caleb as their main love interest.

(But as I said, these results are liable to change. For instance, for the non-poc sample the lowest mean value of conscientiousness belongs to Rafayel mains)

===Emotionality===

Caleb(M=14.7, SD=3.49) mains had the lowest emotionality score, and the difference between them and Zayne(M=15.6, SD=3.04), Rafayel(M=15.5, SD=3.11), and Sylus(M=15.5, SD=3.33) mains was significant

Personal comment:......Babes lolololol. Is Caleb's robot alter taking over his mains?? Did they get a Toring chip as well? It's so funny omg

===Self-Discipline===

Rafayel(M=10.1, SD=2.96) and Caleb(M=10.1, SD=2.97) mains had similarly low scores of self-discipline, and they differed from Zayne(M=10.8, SD=2.87) and Sylus(M=10.8, SD=2.79) significantly.

Personal comment: As a Rafayel main, I can confirm this.

=Second Love Interest=

Most of Zayne mains chose Sylus as their second love interest. The other most preferred second love interest was Caleb, but since this test was done just before Caleb's new myth, the results might be affected by our excitement for it. Also, Zayne mains showed low preference for Rafayel.

A note about less significant/non-significant observations:

As a whole, we have low extraversion and average conscientiousness, as well as high openness to experience, neuroticism, and agreeableness

For subcategories, we have the highest mean for imagination and the lowest mean for gregariousness. (perfect combination to date fictional men)

Sylus and Zayne mains had similar mean scores in many main factors and subfactors of the Big Five test. Likewise, Rafayel and Caleb mains' scores were close to each other, and they contrasted with Sylus and Zayne(not always significantly tho). Xavier mains generally had balanced scores.

None of the groups differed significantly in terms of openness to experience, neuroticism, extroversion, and these factors' subcategories.

To check if the data gives standard results, I checked socioeconomic status(SES) and its relation to neuroticism since previous studies indicate higher neuroticism for low SES groups, and it was the same for this dataset as well. Anxiety, depression, and neuroticism showed a slightly decreasing trend as the SES increased.

Some studies suggest that people of color have lower trust scores, but in this study, poc had higher trust than non-poc. However, it might be due to the differences in exposure to discrimination between poc who live in the US and those who are natives of other countries.

Tag list: @dadddybangtan @gingers-random-junk @cloudyasteria @eoe-1379 @kwtdrn @punksausages @satorusfrontallobesilverhair @xanxann01 @dandellien @auraficial @fictionalmenlover5 @bundle-of-sunlight @starryfilled @cupcakefactory @rayamalaya @mandapanda16 @nouerzzz @jonggunkitten @fckkntired @dreamienebula @tiffyelefano @bbnique @maybeyougotmewrong @starrychxn @situationsheep @maimaily @irlsammy @meowumis @piranha-teeth @svnflowery @soapsoftheworld

#love and deepspace #lads #恋と深空 #恋与深空 #l&ds #lnds #rafayel love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace

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thealchemistbae · 4 months ago

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Asteroid Fama (408) Observations 💫

Disclaimer: This post is for entertainment purposes only.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

Houses:

💥: Fama 1H: Babe, your face is recognizable. You could be walking through a random city, and someone's like, Wait, don't I know you from somewhere? (Even if they don't.) People remember your presence, whether it's your looks, your energy, or just how you carry yourself. If Fama is retrograde, like mine, your recognition might come in waves. You're lowkey one minute and suddenly trending the next.

💥: Fama 3H: Y'all are the ones people can't stop talking about. Your words? Iconic. Your tweets, texts, and posts? Memorable. This is big "everyone knows your name online" energy. You probably have the type of voice or way of speaking that people instantly recognize. If it's conjunct Mercury? You could LITERALLY get famous from how you talk, write, or communicate. Podcaster, writer, content creator? This is your sign.

💥: Fama 6H: Y'all have workplace clout. Your name holds weight in your industry, and people know you for what you do. Whether it's your skills, your work ethic, or just the way you show up every day, your coworkers, clients, or even competitors talk about you. If it's trine Jupiter? Major success can come through your job. But if it's square Pluto...whew, watch out for haters in the workplace.

💥: Fama 10H: This is big boss energy. Your name is going to be attached to success, leadership, or career achievements, whether you like it or not. People associate you with your work, and you could easily become well known in your field. If it's conjunct the Midheaven (MC), babyyyy you were born to be seen. This is public figure energy. You're not just making a name for yourself...you are the name.

💥: Fama conjunct Venus: Everyone stays talking about your looks, love life, or aesthetic. People are obsessed with how you dress, how you carry yourself, and who you're dating. It's giving effortless it girl/ it boy energy.

Aspects:

💥: Fama opposite Pluto: Whew, people have intense reactions to you. They either love you or they cannot stand you, and there's no in between. You have that magnetic, polarizing energy that makes you unforgettable (for better or worse).

💥: Fama trine Neptune: Your reputation has a mystical quality. People don't just recognize you, they see you as an enigma. You might also be known for your creativity, spirituality, or artistic side. This is "people project their fantasies onto you" energy.

💥: Fama square Saturn: You probably have to work for your recognition. People might try to block your success, or your reputation could take longer to build, but once you get it, it's solid. Think slow burn success with lasting impact.

💥: Fama trine Jupiter: Your name carries luck, expansion, and good fortune. People might associate you with success, and you could easily gain worldwide recognition.

💥: Fama conjunct Lilith: Infamous energy. People misunderstand you, but they can’t ignore you. This is the “why am I always the villain in someone’s story?” placement.

💥: Fama sextile Mars: You’re known for your ambition, drive, and possibly drama. People might respect (or fear) your competitive nature.

Fama & Other Asteroids:

☄️: Fama conjunct Nemesis (128): Watch out for people who envy your success; because you’ll have them.

☄️: Fama aspecting Pallas (2): People recognize your intelligence, strategy, and wisdom.

☄️: Fama conjunct Eros (433): People find you seductive, magnetic, and unforgettable. You might have a sexy reputation, even if you don’t try.

☄️: Fama trine Fortuna (19): Your name is synonymous with luck. Good things just happen to you, and people notice.

☄️: Fama opposite Lucifer (1930): You might be seen as rebellious, controversial, or someone who challenges the status quo.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

I’m sure there is more but honestly this is all I have for now. Enjoy ⚡️

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

#astrology #astro observations #astro community #thealchemistbae #horoscope #birth chart #astrology for beginners #natal chart #fame #fama #asteroid #fama asteroid #famous astrology

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n0cturnalflesh · 3 months ago

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Dr.Zayne's Guide to Treating a Hunter

Synopsis: Greyson asks for advice on how to deal with his hunter crush. Zayne gives him a very thorough lesson, with you as the test subject obviously.

Tags: Smut, established relationship, threesome, F/M/M, dom!Zayne, sub!Greyson, p in v, oral, warming, worshipping, roleplay, grinding, Greyson goes into subspace? idk it just came to me as i was writing WC: 6.1k

a/n: That took wayyy longer than it shouldve, I say for the third time as i publish my third fic. Thanks to yall who helped with deciding Greyson's crush! Disclaimer, I am nowhere near being in the medical field!!

————————————————————————

The hardwood door is cold beneath your knuckles, a subtle indicator of whom this office belongs to. Holding your breath, you wait for a reply.

“Yes? Come in.” Zayne’s voice draws from within. He’s not expecting you; a week-long mission ending a few days early thanks to your efforts, and not even a single bruise to show for it. With the extra time off given by Captain Jenna as a reward, what better to do with your time than to surprise your favourite doctor?

Creaking the door open slowly, you push it closed with your heel and spin in a circle, holding the small box of macarons out front as an offering.

“Doctor Zayne!” you hum in a sing-song voice, “Your favourite hunter is back! Did you miss me?”

His eyes widen at your voice, hand slowing from the rigorous notes being scribbled as he looks up from his desk. “You’re back early. Are you alright? Why wasn’t I notified about your mission ending early?”. Caution laces his tone, unable to get excited at your sudden return until he knows you’re safe.

“Of course!” You chirp, pointing a finger gun out the window as you pretend to aim at a tree outside, “When am I ever not alright? I’m a professional.” He gives you an unamused look. “Anyway, I convinced Jenna to delay my mission report status so I could surprise you. Got dropped off right outside the hospital.”

“Hmm.” Zayne hums, standing from his desk as he takes a step towards you, “Professional misconduct with not just the Hunters Association but also Akso Hospital?”

“Yup! Only cost a week’s worth of lunches for the team on me.”

Zayne stops in front of you, pulling you into a warm hug. “And a box of macarons, apparently.” He gladly takes the offering you present, eying down the flavours you chose.

“Whatever.” You huff. “My reports should be in your inbox any second now, I just got them delayed long enough to surprise you. Mission ended early due to uncovered intel. Didn’t even get a scrape!”

Zayne raises an eyebrow at your words, pausing halfway into biting a macaron. “Shocking. Are you sure about that? How do I know you haven’t been replaced by a wanderer? I’ve witnessed you get injured stepping out of a car.”

“Uncalled for!” you pout before a mischievous idea pops into your head. “But, if you’d like to do a full body inspection, I have no objections, doc-tor.”

Popping your hips, you lock your hands behind your back and tilt your head to look up at the surgeon, challenging him. His eyes linger on your body as he takes you in before settling on your face.

“I guess a thorough inspection is in order for such a… wreckless patient.” He leans forward and pushes you back slowly. “If you’ll have a seat, we can begin.”

Unable to hold back your smirk, his hands guide you around his desk until you're sitting on the ledge in front of his chair. Taking a knee in each hand, the cold of his fingertips lingers as he drags them along your thighs before spreading them to stand between.

Fingers gripping the hem of your hunters’ skirt, he leans down to whisper in your ear. “This new uniform seems… breathable. I didn’t realize skirts were efficient for fighting in.” He presses a kiss to your neck, breath hot against your ear.

“It’s for undercover missions.” He takes a small bite at your earlobe, “Not,” you gasp, “not the standard uniform.” With shuddering breaths, Zayne’s cool hands slide up your waist, tracing each curve and arch of your body until they rest, gently cupping your face. Pulling back, he leans his forehead against yours.

“I missed you, my love. I’m glad you’re safe.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I missed you too.”

He slowly begins to devour you, lips pulling at your own as he tries to consume every inch of you like a starved man. Grabbing at his tie, you pull it from within his grey vest and yank him closer to you. The firmness of his body begins to melt against your own, hips moulding in ebb and flow as he grinds against you in waves.

“Zayne.” He kisses you. “Should I,” Again. “Should I lock the door?”

Pushing his lips heavy against yours one last time, he pulls away with a rugged breath. “No, I’m expecting Dr. Greyson shortly. Any minute. We won’t have time.” His words come with a wince, as if it pains him to decline the offer.

You gaze up into his eyes, a shared longing for desperation pleading silently for each other. Zayne takes a step back, eyes closing with focus as he visibly wills himself to calm down. As he sits down in his chair, you can’t help but notice the fat tent in his pants.

Sighing under your breath, you hop off Zayne’s desk. “Well, I need to sign off on a few final mission reports. It shouldn't take long. Would I be able to finish them here with you, and then we can grab food once you’ve finished your work? Unless your matters with Greyson are confidential, then I can just…”

“No, you’re welcome to work with me, please. He was requesting some advice, although on what, I’m not sure. At most, likely something related to his current medical research.”

“Yay!” You bounce, grabbing your laptop from your standard hunter bag and propping it next to his on the desk. “Watcha working on?”

“I’m preparing presentation material for a speech I’m giving later next month to our new resident doctors. I’ve already caught up on my post-operative documentation and patient progress monitoring for the day.”

“Mmm, I love it when you talk all medical. So sexy.” You wink. A small smile flashes across his face, ears flushing a light red. “Glad it’s nothing too pressing then. Mind if you scooch a bit so I can sit down?”

Zayne gives you a slightly puzzled look, his eyes flickering to the empty chair beside you, one that he definitely does not need to move over for you to access, but still abides by your wishes. With a comforting confidence, you lean over and sit on his lap, skirt bunching up your thighs as you do. A small gasp comes from behind you, but Zayne remains quiet other than that.

“Darling,” he whispers, “Dr. Greyson?”

“Hmm? It’ll be fine. I’m just trying to get some work done. That extra chair of yours hurts my back, this is much more comfortable.” You reply, eyes not moving from your laptop. “Besides, this is hardly compromising. Greyson knows how much we miss each other after long missions.”

Zayne wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your shoulder. The silence tells you he disagrees, but his tight grip around you says he doesn’t care enough to fight back. And so you begin your work.

Ten minutes in, your report is almost halfway done. Zayne has not touched his work. His arms loosen and tighten every few minutes around your waist as he watches your type.

“My love,” he breathes, “can you please stop bouncing your foot.”

The movement is brought to your attention, and you slow it to a stop, unaware that you were even doing so in the first place. “Oops, sorry.” You smile, “Didn’t mean to distract, doc.”

He stiffens at the nickname, fingers digging into your sides as he steadies you against him. It’s then that you feel the newly hardened bulge beneath you.

“I’m sure you did, actually .” He pulls your back flush against his chest. “You know your effect on me. I can’t keep my composure with you like this.” As Zayne grinds you down onto his lap, your back arches into him. “Thinking I have the strength to withhold from your teasing.” He places a kiss on your neck. “You break down all of me.”

Hands groping at your body, you rock with him as he bucks lightly against you. “ Zayne .” you moan.

He groans into your neck, wanton and dripping with lust, “I need you. Sit on it, please darling.”

Blinded by desperation, you nod and push his hands up your skirt. His finger prods at your sopping panties, pushing them to the side to smear your slick around.

“You’re already so wet. I barely need to stretch you out.” He gasps, fingers pushing into your clenching cunt as he scissors you open wide. “Pardon my rushing, a true medical professional should know not to rush these things.”

“ Mmph , well,” you pant, “my boyfriend should know how well he fits in me and put it in before it's too late.”

He withdraws his fingers in an instant, nodding to himself as he undoes the zipper of his pants. The warm weight of his cock springs out and hits your lower back. Pausing your movements, he lifts you with ease to hover you above him before slowly sliding you down onto his full length. The pressure is immediately dizzying, feeling his tip push deeper in as your body stretches to take him.

“Zayne!” you cry out.

“I know, darling.” He whispers from behind, placing gentle kisses on the nape of your neck until you're fully sitting on him, ass flush against his pelvis. “Even if we don’t have time to finish, to be in you is a gift in itself.”

Zayne rubs at your hips, shifting his hands until they rest on your lower belly, holding you where you hold him within you. “You drive me to madness in the best way possible, I can’t control myself around you. I need you, always and forever.”

“And you have me.”

Like your words are his kryptonite, he leans his forehead against your shoulder, panting at the feeling of your warm, gummy insides squeezing him.

The sudden turn of the doorknob disturbs the moment, a new voice entering the room.

“Hey, Dr.Zayne, thanks for agreeing to help! It’s nothing serious, more of a… personal matter you could say.”

Greyson enters the office, head turned towards the door as he closes it behind him. He hasn’t seen you yet, nor does he notice the brief scramble at the desk as Zayne hurriedly pulls and smooths out the bottom of your skirt. Still nestled within you, it looks nothing more than you sitting on his lap to do work.

“Oh! Miss Hunter!” Greyson’s ears flush. “I didn’t realize you were back from your mission. I’m glad to see you made it back safe and early. And to see you lovebirds are happy together.”

“Yep,” you muster up, voice shaky from nervousness. “I’m sorry to disturb you, I was just working on some reports. I can… leave if you need.”

Zayne squeezes your thighs beneath the desk tightly, a precautionary questioning at how you would even remove yourself from the situation.

“Oh! Actually, this might be a matter you can help me with too.” Greyson replies, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “If you can promise to keep a secret.”

You nod along shakily, too distracted by the weight of Zayne’s cock nestled deep within you. Were you not being split open, your brain would absolutely clock into whatever secrets Greyson is about to spill.

“Of course!” Your voice comes out nervously high-pitched. Zayne’s hands begin to rub gently against your thighs at the hem of your skirt, hidden from sight beneath his desk. From within you, his cock twitches against your walls. He’s enjoying this.

“Yes,” Zayne answers from behind you, “if this is regarding what I think it is, she would absolutely be able to provide some insight on the matter.” His tone is calm, practiced, but just a little bit deeper than normal, hiding the carnal desire beneath it. He looks over your shoulder to Greyson, a smile on his lips as he nods in encouragement.

Greyson’s blush spreads from his ears to his cheeks as he begins to stutter over his words, clearly nervous to voice his thoughts. “Well, hunters are such a highly regarded profession.”

As he talks on, Zayne raises his hand higher, slowly up your thigh with such a stillness that could only be done by a surgeon's hands.

“And obviously hunters should be treated with the utmost respect.”

“ Mmhmm .” You nod, head spinning as Zayne slowly gets closer to your heat.

“Dr.Zayne would clearly know from experience.”

Maintaining eye contact with the cardiac surgeon’s assistant begins to be a struggle as Zayne uses the slick from where you two meet to rub at your clit gently.

“So I wanna make sure I do it right.”

You’re entirely gone, staring right through poor Dr.Greyson as he talks. Zayne’s fingers slide from your clit, circling around the base of his cock that kiss your lower lips.

“I just don’t know how to confess. I want to make sure I can show I’d be a good boyfriend for a hunter, that I could treat her right.”

“Wait, what?” You pause, suddenly tuned in to his mild confession. “You have a crush on a hunter?” Leaning forward to lean on Zayne’s desk, inadvertently sliding his cock a few inches out as you do. His hands retract at your movement, resting on the armrests of his chair.

Greyson looks away and out the window in embarrassment at the idea being laid out so bluntly. “Yes.”

“Oh my-” You gasp, bouncing slightly in excitement before cutting yourself off at the feeling of Zayne’s dick pushing up into you as you move. Behind you, he lets out a desperate gasp, knuckles turning white as he grips tightly at his armrests.

Greyson, oblivious to the incident, continues to stare out the window, deep in thought. “I’m not gonna name names, yet , at least.”

Before you can reply, Zayne wraps his arms around your waist and yanks you back down fully onto his length. The cry of pleasure escapes your lips before you can stop it, face reddening in embarrassment and lust as he fills you entirely again.

“Miss?” Greyson turns suddenly at your outcry. “Are you alright?” He takes a few steps towards the desk, Zayne tightening and tensing his hold on you as he does. The pleasure is blinding, intensified by the absolute control Zayne exerts over the situation- you’re a goner.

The room is silent as Greyson leans toward you, examining your features. His eyes rake over your body, slowing as he reaches your once again bunched-up skirt in Zayne’s hands by his pelvis. By the way that his blush deepens, he’s figured out exactly what’s going on.

If the room was silent before, it must be lost in the deepspace tunnel now with how quiet and still it is. Zayne’s laboured breath is hot and heavy against the back of your neck, while Greyson’s chest rises rapidly in front of you. With a beet-red blush, his eyes dart between you and Zayne. Disbelief flashes across his face through his furrowed eyebrows, embarrassment visible in his quivering lip.

But there’s something else, too. Something in his eyes, the way he maintains strong eye contact between both you and Zayne, in the way he doesn’t back away but, if anything, leans a bit closer with curiosity.

And in the way his pants begin to tighten around his front.

The situation has you clenching tighter around Zayne, pushing back slightly into his hips. The way he holds you, claims you , in front of his colleague like you’re his prized possession has you wanting more of this side to him. He must feel the way you clamp down on him as he returns in kind by pushing up against your hips just enough for his tip to kiss your cervix. A silent validation through this rocky situation.

“Dr. Greyson,” Zayne huffs, voice rich with dominance and authority, “why don’t you lock the door? As my assistant, we can give you a thorough explanation on how to properly treat a hunter.”

Greyson looks behind you, maintaining eye contact with Zayne for a few seconds before scrambling to lock the door. He returns to the desk, standing about 5 feet in front of you. With tense shoulders, he looks to Zayne for further instructions, his undone lab coat doing nothing to hide his clothed erection.

“You can start with a prescreening review. What do you think a hunter should want in a partner? I will leave the expert to judge your answers.” As Zayne directs his assistant, he kisses the back of your neck and allows his hands to gently caress your hips. Riling you up but not going where you need them most.

“ Ahem , well,” The normally witty surgeon begins, “A hunter should want someone that can respect their independence.”

Zayne nods, hands sliding up your shirt. You arch your back, leaning into his touch.

“Someone that can treat them well and take care of them after a long day.”

He slides his hands over your clothed breasts, not quite squeezing them but still gently fondling them. “Pay attention, darling,” he whispers in your ear, “you are the subject matter expert.”

As a whirl of pleasure and electricity surges through your nerves, you force your mind to focus back on the young man in front of you. Through foggy eyes, you rake your vision up to make eye contact with him.

“Someone that, fuck , someone that can be patient and understand the risks of their job.” He whispers, shifting from foot to foot as his hands fidget in his pockets.

A gentle nudge from behind reminds you that he’s awaiting your response. “ Yes ,” you gasp through deep breaths, “mmhmm. And. Need someone to,” you sigh as Zayne gropes you lightly, “someone to keep them grounded, make them feel like a person, reassure them, please them .”

The subtle touches mixed with Greyson’s eye contact are becoming too much as you begin to grind your hips back on Zayne. Squeezing your legs down around his, if you lean just a bit, you can catch your clit on the hilt of his jeans. It’s not nearly enough, the room is spinning, head foggy with pleasure. Has Greyson always looked so submissive?

“Very good. I think you have an appropriate understanding of the matter.” Zayne groans, his hands stopping their previous ministrations. He holds you still on his lap, slowing your grinding. “Lesson two: bedside training. In line with Akso Hospital’s Office of Faculty Development, what are the three stages of effective bedside teaching?”

Astra have mercy on your cunt because as Zayne speaks to Greyson, he begins to show the side of him you don’t often get to witness. His voice deepens and hardens- amongst other parts of him. Looking up over your shoulder, you can see the assertive stare he gives his assistant. Despite his professionalism, he still manages to slowly unbutton your shirt, spreading it slowly to reveal your bra.

Greyson coughs to himself, hand grasping at his belt before smoothing over his erection, pushing it down through his pants as he chases some relief. “Preparation, teaching, evaluation!” He all but spits out like the words will grant him some kind of prize.

“Good. Now I want you to get on your knees, Dr. Greyson.”

Greyson does exactly as he’s told, clambering onto the ground as he knees before the desk. Zayne slowly wheels his chair back until it hits the back wall. From this position, your entire body is on display for Greyson to watch, from the way your thighs rest on Zayne’s to the dampened stain on his pants where your bodies meet.

“Come closer.” Zayne beckons. Greyson crawls on all fours towards you, under the desk until he’s sitting pathetically on his knees before you. He looks up at you with hazy eyes filled with curiosity and lust.

Before you can feel any form of shame, Zayne presses a kiss to the back of your neck. “We will begin by reviewing patient information. Greyson?”

“Uh,” He stammers, eyes lifting from you to Zayne. “Female patient, returning from deepspace hunter mission with a history of Protocore Syndrome. Presenting for a post-mission evaluation and follow-up care.”

“Diagnosis?”

Greyson shifts on his knees, confused and distracted by the sight in front of him.

“Sexual arousal.” Zayne answers for him, raking his hand beneath your skirt to gather your wetness between his fingers. “Explain what this diagnosis entails.”

With heavy eyes, Greyson speaks without taking his eyes off Zayne’s hands at your core. “Female tumescence, increased heart rate, flushing of the skin and elevated blood pressure. Heightened sensitivity in erogenous zones and increased desire are expected.”

“Treatment plan?”

“Orgasm.”

As Greyson gives his answer, Zayne begins to curl your skirt up higher. The coolness of the office air hits your upper thighs, cooling down your heated body. “Do I have consent from the patient to involve medical teaching in your examination today?”

Without skipping a beat, you nod your head. “Yes! Please!” You whimper, desperate to end the teasing.

“Excellent.” Zayne pushes his fingers against your clit, reigniting the coil of pleasure within you. With a jerk, your hips begin to move on their own as he massages the bundle of nerves. Arching your back to rest your head against his shoulder, he uses his free hand to spread your legs and hook your ankles around his calves, displaying you for Greyson to see.

“A hunter’s mission is always a serious matter. Whether it is a direct assault or recon mission, it’s important that you pay the utmost attention to their bodily needs. Especially after a long mission away from home.” Zayne turns his head to press a kiss to your cheek, voice softening from his stern, medical tone. “Where do you need me, my love?”

“Everywhere, fuck , touch me please, faster .” Your whole body twitches with desire, hips bucking forward as you hump his cock. From the ground, Greyson can see how Zayne plays with your clit, how he runs his fingers down to where his length enters you and back to your clit. Zayne’s free hand leaves your thighs and moves to unclip your bra with ease, helping to slide it off your body.

Bouncing against him lightly, Zayne begins to match your hips with gentle thrusts, not enough to pound you but enough to shake your whole body. He presses his lips against your neck, biting down as he gathers your breasts in his hand and squeezes.

Lost to pleasure, a quiet whimper pulls you back to Zayne’s office. Greyson kneels beneath you, having crawled closer, looking like a mess. His hair is askew, strands sticking out from their normal styled positioning as a result of him desperately running his fingers through it. His shirt lays untucked from his pants, a few buttons undone, while his glasses are smudged with fog and sweat. And yet, his pants remain done up, ever the obedient assistant to Zayne.

The whimpering continues and it's not until you really focus that you realize he’s begging, over and over. “Please, please , Dr. Zayne, please may I have your permission to touch something, anything .” Greyson’s cheeks are impossibly flushed, his whole body entranced by you and Zayne, like he’s floating through a hypnotic trance, ready to do whatever Zayne asks of him.

“ Mmmm ,” Zayne growls, releasing your body to once again wrap his arms around your waist. As he begins to focus on thrusting into you, he groans out. “I think we can,” he gasps, “begin with procedural training.”

Zayne taps lightly on your inner thigh, enticing the other doctor to come closer. With his face between your legs, Greyson’s heavy breaths tickle your soaked panties. He looks up obediently, chest heaving up and down desperately as he awaits the next order.

“I want you to walk me through the treatment. Outline the key steps of this diagnosis and procedure, Dr. Greyson.”

With laboured breaths, Greyson’s entire body heaves as he makes eye contact with your filled cunt. “R-resolve female tumescence and sexual arousal through, fuck , physical stimulation of the clitoris and nipples, mmmph , and internal stimulation with penile penetration.” He bucks his hips into the air, nearly losing his balance as he tries to catch himself from touching you.

“Keep going.” Zayne holds you spread for Greyson to see.

“ Mmmmm , the p-parasympathetic nervous system via the pelvic nerve, plays a key role in initiating arousal, w-while the autonomic nervous system coordinates the physiological responses involved.” He pants, brain short-circuiting between the medical knowledge engraved into his mind versus the image of you spread and filled that he’s trying to burn into his memory.

“W-with the clitoral corpus cavernosum filling with blood due to vasodilation, leading to tumescence. Increased blood flow causes the labia minora to swell and enhances vaginal lubrication.”

“And can you point out where on the patient you can find this lubrication?”

“F-fuck. On your fingers, on her thighs, on your cock.” He manages to choke out.

“Tsk. I don’t recall ‘cock’ being a medical term.”

“On your penis .”

“Good. It’s important to maintain professionalism with your patients. Now, how do I treat her?”

“Stimulation to the pudendal, pelvic, and hypogastric nerve. Rhythmic penetration, manual stimulation of the clitoral glands, alongside sexual verbal stimulation seems to be the b-best course of action for this patient.”

“I think we’re ready to begin hands-on training, Dr. Greyson.”

Zayne taps your clit lightly with his finger, before sliding his hands up to caress your breasts. Greyson looks up at the both of you wantonly, crawling closer until he’s a blink away from your cunt.

There’s a moment of pause, not necessarily hesitation but rather expectancy. Zayne’s face hovers behind your head as he stares down to watch his assistant wait. The stillness is torture as his cock resides within you, clit pulsing with every beat of your heart. He keeps your ankles hooked around his calves, holding you open for Greyson. The soft squelching of your slick echoes out as you shift impatiently in Zayne’s lap.

“Don’t keep the patient waiting, doctor.” Zayne speaks, reaching his hand out and grabbing Greyson by the hair, shoving his face into your pussy. The immediate pleasure is like the light at the end of a never-ending tunnel; your whole body igniting with heat as Greyson laps your clit.

It’s sloppy, loud even, as his nose pushes against you, sinking into your drenched panties that’ve been impatiently shoved to the side. Zayne’s hand returns to holding your waist as he begins to grind you onto his lap. With every thrust back, his cock teases your silken heat, with every hump forward, Greyson laps on your clit with a heavy tongue.

The assistant doctor picks up on the rhythm, his whole body rocking back and forth to chase your clit as you bounce lightly on Zayne’s lap. “ Mmmm .” He moans, voice sending ripples of pleasure to your sharp point, “ More, more, more .” He chants like a desperate man. A low laugh-turned moan escapes from behind you. Tilting your head, you see Zayne’s flushed cheeks beside you.

His half-lidded eyes turn to look at you, chest heaving behind your back with laboured breaths. “ My love ,” he pants. Digging his fingers into your bouncing breasts, he kisses behind your ear and begins to start thrusting up into you.

“Fuck” you hear from between your legs, looking down just in time to see Greyson pull back. His face is dripping with sweat and your wetness, hair ruffled and messy from his ministrations. With wet hands, he pulls his glasses off and tosses them on the ground beside you. He pauses for a moment, leaning back on his hands as he watches Zayne fuck into you.

His chest rises and falls with each breath, his wrinkled, half-buttoned shirt tightening as he pants. His leaned-back position only accentuates his neglected boner. Zayne grabs your chin, arm crossing in front of your bare chest as he presses your cheek to his and forces your gaze down onto his assistant.

“I think our doctor-in-training could use some help from the expert again. Care to show him how a hunter can also care for their partner, darling?”

“ Mmhm .” You whimper out. Between bouncing thrusts, you unhook your leg from Zayne’s and place it on the inner side of his thigh. On an inviting angle, you beckon Greyson forward again. He crawls towards you on all fours until he straddles your leg, chin resting on your knee. Greyson looks up at you with clouded eyes, pouting and yearning for any kind of touch. With a nudge from a particularly harsh thrust behind you, you step down on his boner.

“ Ahh , fuck!” he crumbles forward, panting cheek resting against your thigh. “Mmm, sorry-” Before you can finish your apology, Greyson leans heavier into you, thrusting his bulge against your leg. As he humps you, his hands cradle your hips with reverence. He inches his face forward until it’s once again smushed against your crotch. With every thrust, he humps his erection onto you, chasing release as he licks at your clit. Zayne’s heavy balls squish against Greyson’s face, but neither seems to care.

Reaching out, you burrow your hands into them, grabbing each by the hair and pulling them closer. “ Oh my god! Z- ” You throw your head back, the combination of Zayne’s cock hitting your g-spot and Greyson’s tongue at your clit drawing you closer to the release you’ve been seeking since you first sat on Zayne’s lap.

“Yes, my love!” Zayne grunts out, “Say my name!”

“Zayne!”

“ Fuck , good girl.” He gasps, hips stuttering and losing their pace for a moment. Kissing the side of your neck, his fingers lower from your chest to your hips, brushing over Greyson’s hands for a moment.

“This,” Zayne thrusts, “is the proper way to treat a hunter. On your knees for them, having been allowed the privilege to treat them. Understand, doctor ?”

Pulling back slightly from your pussy, Greyson keels forward hard, humping your leg like a dog in heat. Pathetic whimpers of agreement and nods of his head escape him as he uses both hands to pull your leg closer against him. A wetness down your calf exposes his drooling mouth. He closes his eyes in bliss, letting out a loud whimper as he leans his entire torso against your leg one last time, holding it firm as his body twitches with pleasure.

“Eyes on me, darling.” Zayne coerces you, “you’re my hunter.” With that, Zayne fucks into you faster and harder than before. His hands rope down your body and begin rubbing at your clit as he pulls you to kiss him.

“Mmhm, ‘m your hunter.” You moan back between sloppy kisses. His tongue licks at your lips, teasing with little bites. True to his title as a surgeon, his delicate fingers expertly tease and please your pussy, sparking tingles within you as you begin to clench tighten around him.

“ Mmph , cum for me!” He chants in your ear, rocking into you with desperation. It finally becomes too much, surges of white shooting throughout your body as you tighten and twist and clamp down on him. A sharp coolness chases your skin as he holds you tight against him, whispers of his evol losing control. It’s the only sensation that reaches you beyond the explosion of pleasure that courses through you. Like an electrical charge, it travels through you and unwinds within him.

“ Ah , you take me so good. Perfect,” He pants, hips picking up the pace. The pressure of your orgasm mixed with his insistent thrusting is too much, making you spaz lightly in his arms, whimpering pleas for a break.

“Was made for you. ‘m sorry, almost there. You can hold on, right good girl?” He begs, resting his forehead against your shoulder, damp hair smudging across your skin. He drills into you a few more times feverishly, and finally with a deep groan, he bursts within you- floods of his cum filling your twitching walls.

Through clouded thoughts and fuzzy vision, it feels like you’re floating above your body. The release of tension has tingles spreading throughout your limbs. You sit, sweaty and chilled on his lap, stuffed to the brim and unable to tell whether it's been minutes or hours.

Finally, as your mind and body reconnect with themselves, sharp tinges of coolness pierce your skin. Through squinting eyes, you look down to see Zayne’s hands frosted to your hips. Weakly, you extend your fingers and interlock them over his. Evol power pushes through you weakly as you resonate with him, removing the light sheet of ice from his shivering and steaming body.

As the ringing of pleasure in your ears dies down, it's replaced by a slow panting. Very slowly, your senses come back to you: the blinding LEDs shining from above, the smell of sweat and cologne surrounding you, the moist mop of hair resting against your shoulder, and the limp weight resting on your thigh.

Greyson! Having nearly forgotten about Zayne’s assistant, you slowly shift your eyes down to peek at him. Warm flushes of embarrassment heat up your body as he still rests against your nearly naked body, but his eyes are still closed as he rests.

Zayne must notice your gaze on the other man as you peer down. Subtly, he shifts his leg, nudging Greyson back into a kneeling position at your feet. From this angle, it’s not hard to miss the wet patch on his pants right over where his boner was. Head bowed down, eyes still closed, and with a vibrant rosy blush covering from his ears to his neck, he looks utterly pitiful and submissive.

“Zayne!” You whisper-yell, “You didn’t have to push him.”

“Training's over.” He pants back, “Students are no longer involved in this case; care will continue under Dr. Zayne only.”

Before you can reply, he’s pulling you in for a hug, pressing himself tightly against you’re back. “You are mine, as I am yours. One and only.”

Reaching back to rub his hair, you smile. “Always and forever. I love you.”

“And I, you.”

Getting dressed is easier than expected. Greyson remains partially aware of his surroundings but still not entirely present, allowing you to fix your attire quickly while Zayne picks him up to rest on the couch in his office. By the time he wakes up, you and Zayne are enjoying takeout at the desk.

“Welcome back, Dr.Greyson.” Zayne addresses him without looking up from his food as his assistant rises to a seated position. The poor man is redder than an apple as he notices the wipes and damp towel left for him to clean up, along with a larger lab coat to better cover himself.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation.

“You do not have to make this any more uncomfortable than it has to be. You asked for advice, and I believe we provided it, no?” Zayne asks, pausing from taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Right!” Greyson stammers out, voice cracking slightly as his face flushes even deeper.

“You are making it more uncomfortable.”

Laughing inwardly to yourself, you speak up to ease the tension. “Hey, it’s ok. We had a good time, did you?” He nods. “Good. Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone.” With a wink, you use a finger to draw a line across your lips, twisting and locking away the key. “I’m sure you’ll impress whatever hunter you have the hots for, especially now that you know what it's like to…properly handle one.”

Your casual approach to the situation seems to have calmed him down, as he nods in agreement, seeming to have a better grasp of the situation.

“Thank you, Doctor Zayne. And Miss Hunter! For the opportunity. I won’t forget it.” Despite the slight shakiness in his voice, his tone is much more relaxed. With that, he picks up the supplies left for him and begins to head towards the door.

“Wait!” You call out as his hand reaches for the knob, “You never told me who you’re crush was!”

“Nope!”

“I could help set you up!”

His ears flush impossibly red once more as he continues to reach for the door. With haste steps, he nearly rushes directly into Yvonne.

“Dr.Greyson, what’s got you so flush?” Her voice rings out from the hall, popping her head in to see you and Zayne eating together. “Oh my gosh! No way you finally told them about Tara!”

—--

“I have to say, I’m shocked at how… submissive Greyson was. He totally got into some sub-space or something, y’know?”

Zayne pauses, staring at his sandwich for a moment before lifting his gaze to you “I’m not. After all,” he deadpans, “he is my sub -ordinate.”

#love and deepspace #lads #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x mc #lads zayne #lnds zayne #zayne smut #lads smut #zayne x reader #love and deepspace smut

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hazbinwhoree · 1 year ago

Note

Adam and Lute with a very powerful overlord reader who is doing multiple jobs at once and is obviously tired and overworked, and is just like, "I'm done, I'm too tired to deal with your bullshit." She kinda has the same personality as Aizawa from mha (Reader may or may not have an addiction to coffee, tea, and energy drinks. I can see them meeting when Charlie drags her to her meeting with adam and Lute. Charlie:(y/n)? When was the last time you slept? (Y/N): What the fuck is sleep? *drinks 10 gallons of coffee in one sitting*)

An Angel & An Overlord

A/N: I had fun writing this and hope it’s what you wanted! I don’t know who Aizawa is so I did my best based on context clues. Disclaimer, there will not be a part 2, I’m drowning in requests.

Adam was already bored of this meeting with Lucifer and Lilith’s daughter. She and her associates were pleading their case to let sinners go to Heaven (ha!) while he chowed down on some ribs. Then the door swung open.

A demon came stumbling in, an energy drink in each hand, looking disheveled and tired. But fuck, she was hot.

“(Name)!” Charlie exclaimed. “Thank you for coming! I know you’re busy.” Adam and (Name) had made prolonged eye contact. “What? Oh, yeah, no problem, Char.” She tore her eyes away, looking at the ribs he was eating. “Fuck those look good. Now I’m hungry.”

“And who’s this hottie?” Adam smirked, slumping back in his seat. The demon rolled her eyes, slamming one of her drinks on the table. “She said my name already, asshole. And put some respect on it, I’m highly ranked down here.”

“Whatever you say, tits.”

She hissed at him. Adam felt a small thrill at the action.

“Eat shit.”

“Um, (Name), maybe don’t fight with Adam, we need him to approve the plan-” “I’m not going to approve the plan,” Adam laughed. “Sinners? In Heaven? As if.”

(Name) sighed, patting Charlie’s back. “Looks like my services are pointless.” She made to leave, but Adam stopped her. “Well wait, what was your role in this little presentation?” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want her leaving yet. “I have statistics from asking sinners if they would take the Hazbin Hotel seriously if Heaven approved it.”

Adam pretended to think on that. “Interesting, but Heaven will never approve.”

She flipped him off.

“Right back at you, bitch.”

Despite the annoyed face he put on, Adam liked this demon much more than the sunshine and rainbows princess. She spoke his language.

(Name) pounded back the energy drink she was still holding while the room watched on, Charlie and Vaggie looking vaguely concerned. “(Name), did you sleep last night?” “Who needs sleep?” The overlord crushed the drink can. “Aight, I’m out.” She saluted the room and left.

(Name) woke up the next morning to an invitation outside her door. To her shock, it was from Adam. He requested they meet, listing coordinates and a time for when he would open a portal to Heaven. Curious, (Name) decided to go.

At the time allotted, she stood at the spot, nursing a coffee. A portal opened in front of her, and apprehensively, (Name) stepped through it. “You actually came.” Adam looked surprised to see her. “Curiosity killed the cat,” (Name) replied. Adam smirked. “Well welcome to Heaven, hottie.”

They were stood outside what looked like an apartment building. Adam turned to enter it. “Coming, sugar tits?” “Don’t call me that.” Still, she followed him. They rode an elevator up to the very top of the building, and the doors opened to reveal a penthouse.

“Is this where you live?” (Name) asked, stepping out and beginning to look around. “Yeah.”

Adam was unusually quiet, watching (Name) anxiously. “I made more ribs,” he spoke up. “If you want some.” He sounded unsure of himself. (Name) almost found it endearing. “Sure.” She followed Adam into the kitchen and sat down at the table, and Adam placed a plate of ribs in front of her.

(Name) wanted to ask what this was about, but she had forgotten to eat yesterday, and hadn’t had time to eat today, so she was absolutely ravenous. She dug into the ribs with vigor, ignoring Adam’s eyes on her. He took a seat across from her at the table, picking at his own plate of ribs.

“Damn, girlie, you can really put it away. One would think you’re starving. When’s the last time you ate?” “Mm, don’t remember,” (Name) answered through a full mouth. “You really don’t give a shit about yourself.” (Name) frowned. “I do, I’m just… I’m so busy. Overlord duties and shit, y’know?”

“I don’t, actually,” Adam replied as (Name) polished off the last of the ribs. He took two off his plate and put them on hers. “Tell me about it.”

(Name) realized, suddenly, that this felt a lot like a date. But these ribs were really good and Adam was being strangely sweet (he wasn’t bad looking either), so (Name) didn’t say anything about it.

“Well the other overlords have been holding a lot more meetings recently because Carmilla and Velvette are fighting, not that those names mean anything to you.” “What are they fighting about?” “I can’t disclose that.” To her surprise, Adam didn’t push. She continued.

“On top of that, I’ve got all these new contracts, I definitely took on too many deals recently, but the more souls I own, the more powerful I am.”

“I can respect that. I guess Lute isn’t the only Danger Tits I know.”

(Name) rolled her eyes. “Stop talking about tits.” “Aw, but yours are so nice, babe.” (Name) found herself actually flustered by the comment, but didn’t let it show on her face.

Her tail swished, giving away the fact she was flustered, but luckily Adam didn’t know her well enough yet to realize her tell. (Name) noticed vaguely that she’d thought yet.

Like she was going to let Adam get to know her better. Although, she supposed she already was.

They talked for a while longer, discussing (Name)’s life in Hell as an overlord, and occasionally things about Adam. But she noted he let her do most of the talking. When the conversation came to a natural conclusion, (Name) realized she’d been there for almost two hours.

“Fuck, I have to go,” she said, and Adam stood. Wordlessly, he made a portal in the middle of his living room. Before (Name) stepped through it, he spoke. “Maybe we can do this again?”

(Name) smiled to herself.

“Yeah. Maybe we can.”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #fluff #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute

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sylusjinwoon · 1 year ago

Text

{ 157 }

headfirst for halos.

yandere!jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings + disclaimers: obsessive behavior; dark content; i do not condone this behavior in real life, but in fiction, anything goes.

notes: reading solo leveling and seeing how hard jinwoo goes to protect his family and those that he loves-

it’s not impossible for him to have some yandere tendencies. i’ll try to write this to the best of my abilities, even though this really isn’t my strong suit ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ this will be written for the anon that wishes to see me write for yandere!jinwoo... so i hope this meets your expectations...

{ well, let’s go back to the middle of the day that starts it all | i can’t begin to let you know just what i’m feeling. }

there she is, the girl that stole my heart the moment i first laid eyes on her.

my breathing comes out as uneven gasps, and i was actively struggling to breathe at the mere sight of her. along with my labored breaths, my heart could be felt pumping quickly, racing as my palms began to sweat the more i looked at her-

an almost crazed expression paints my features, eyes never straying too far away from that lovely woman. from my viewpoint, i could see that she was simply enjoying her day with a book in hand, taking casual sips of her coffee while running her hands through her hair.

and oh, how i long to sit across from her! to simply bask in her radiance while listening to the gentle sweetness of her voice...

but not yet.

i cannot approach such a perfect goddess just yet.

i still have not reached my full potential.

so, i'll simply stand right here, hidden within the shadows with my hood pulled over my face. from this point onwards, i will never allow my goddess to leave my sights-

"wait for me, my love."

{ ... }

the day sung jinwoo had confessed his feelings for you was the day you had labeled as being the best in your life.

after your meeting with the association's chairman, jinwoo had waited for you all while donning an expensive, black suit. in his hands was a bouquet of red roses, signifying his true intentions as he gifted you the precious blooms with a single statement.

"i am deeply in love with you, please, tell me that you'll be mine."

you thought nothing of the sheer desperation heard in his voice, finding yourself becoming captivated by the mere sight of him. and truly, could anyone really blame you for being so starstruck at the sight of him?

here was this perfect specimen of a man, with features that could rival any idol, and a body that was sculpted to perfection thanks to the many battles he had faced. neat locks of ebony hair falls perfectly across his face, with his full lips tilted up in an unassuming smile (let's not forget that adorable blush, too!)

within seconds, you held the bouquet of roses close to your chest while accepting his confession.

and just a few moments later was when you found yourself immediately brought into jinwoo's embrace. a gasp escapes from your lips as it felt as though he were crushing you to his chest-

like he wanted to somehow meld your body together with his-

your slight cry of pain was what ultimately makes jinwoo let go of you, eyes glowing a startling purple hue while looking down at your arms to see the roses he had purchased for you ruined as the thorns managed to pierce through the skin of your arms.

you swore you could never forget the look of utter devastation seen within his eyes, his apologies being repeated over and over again before taking the broken bouquet and smashing it to the ground with his feet.

"no no no, this was supposed to be the perfect day! the roses were meant to convey my deep and passionate love for you, but it ended up hurting you- i need to get rid of it, need to get rid of anything that harms you-"

by the end of his panicked rants, you were the one that had to calm him down, promising that you could heal yourself and that such a minor injury was no problem at all. you could see the look of pure relief reflected in his gaze as he squeezes your body to his chest once more, embracing you while standing over a broken bouquet of roses.

despite how strange it was, you were truly staring at him through rose-colored lenses, thinking nothing of it.

now that you were together with him for roughly 6 months now, you began to notice tiny details pertaining to jinwoo and his behavior when it came to you.

for starters, you had only been dating for a month when he practically demanded that you move in with him, successfully convincing you to terminate your lease with your current apartment while seducing you with promises of financial stability and a large penthouse to share with him.

"sarang, i know that you're a capable healer, but your earnings are no match for mine! please, let me take care of you."

despite not even dating for a year, you moved in with him anyways, allowing jinwoo to further spoil you.

along with his constant presence, you realized one other detail-

now, jinwoo owned a journal of some sort, seeming to write in that thick notebook on a near daily basis.

during the times you had seen him before you began dating, jinwoo had never once kept a diary. he appeared calm, cool, and collected, with his status as korea's latest s-rank hunter putting him to nearly famous heights. due to his growing fame, you figured he had no time to do such a mundane task.

yet now, without fail, he would never cease writing so furiously within the journal, only slamming the pages shut and stopping when you would walk into the room. you had a sneaking suspicion he was writing about you, but each time you asked about it, he would simply harden his gaze and give you a scowl.

"with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you. am i not allowed the privacy to write down my own thoughts?"

his biting words nearly makes the tears stream down your face, your apologies coming out into broken syllables. upon realizing that he has hurt your feelings, jinwoo would push himself away from the table, leaving behind his journal before comforting you by taking you in his arms.

"i'm sorry, i'm so so so sorry, your monarch didn't mean to make you cry. forgive me, my love?"

being comforted by his warmth and blinded by the sheer love you still had for him, you merely nodded your head in response, accepting his kiss as the gesture erased all of your thoughts pertaining to his journal.

and that was how your days typically went with your boyfriend.

he would take you out on dates and spoil you with gifts-

each time you were scheduled to attend a raid, he would take over and finish each dungeon solely on his own without even giving you and your team a chance-

and when nightfall came (when jinwoo believed you had fallen asleep), he would continue to write (with a strange fervor) within the pages of his journal until the early hours of the morning.

it wasn't until now that you decided to do something about your growing curiosity.

jinwoo was currently away on what you could only deem as a 'business trip.' the american branch of the hunter's association had reached out to him, and he would be gone for roughly a week-

leaving you alone within the confines of the penthouse.

your eyes were staring blankly at the television screen, not really paying attention to the show that was currently being aired. instead, your heart was pounding with anxiety, trailing your eyes towards the bedroom.

within your shared master bedroom, you were aware of the desk jinwoo kept against the wall, being filled with various paperwork and checkbooks that kept track of his earnings as a hunter-

and settled inside the desk was a locked compartment that you were certain his journal was kept hidden. you always saw the key to the drawer somewhere close to his body as an extra precaution to make sure that you would never be able to read its contents while he was away.

but truly, you were nothing if you didn't have some tenacity.

clasped within your hands were two needles that were going to serve as your tools for picking the lock within jinwoo's desk (and you could only hope that whatever shadow soldier he had placed within your shadow wouldn't alert him.)

you knew of the risks that came with unlocking the drawer-

however, you could not stop yourself.

with a determined expression, you swiftly head towards your room, turning on the lights before marching towards jinwoo's desk. kneeling before it, you place the two, slender needles within the keyhole all while gently maneuvering it-

you bring the needles closer together within the keyhole-

then proceed to turn it around just a little bit more-

only to let out a surprised gasp upon hearing something click.

the two needles remain rooted in place when you managed to open the drawer, seeing jinwoo's diary settled within the deep confines of its space. as your hands lean down to grab it, the sudden memory of his ice cold gaze and voice dripping with fury stops you-

with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you.

your breathing comes out as labored, with your heart felt twisting just the tiniest bit in anxiety-

but sadly, your curiosity had won, taking over as you extracted the diary from the safety of the drawer before opening the cover to its first page-

making you regret it instantly.

for what lay before you was pure and utter darkness-

may 6, 16:41 she's mine. she's finally mine! the woman i have longed for- the woman who has saved me when i was a mere e-rank hunter accepted my flower and my love. now she is mine to hold. mine to love. mine to cherish for all eternity. my heart feel so happy, so free. today is truly the best day of my life. SHE'S FINALLY MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE....

june 7, 12:42 i asked my soulmate to move in with me today, yet felt ANNOYED at the slight hesitance in her gaze. she has no right to refuse me! here i am, spoiling her with everything she could possibly want and need, yet she still wants to live in a space AWAY FROM ME? unacceptable. i refuse to tolerate her defiance. if she loves me, she'll cut off her lease and be with me. only i can give her what she wants- ONLY I CAN GIVE HER WHAT SHE NEEDS. despite my anger that was felt mounting, i manage to calm down and speak to her with my normal tone, making sure that it was honey sweet while coaxing her, promising her that i will take care of her and provide her everything that she needs. and oh, i truly am so lucky! she agreed to move in with me by the end of the day. life cannot get any better than this.

june 9, 0250 i couldn't help myself- the moment she lay in my bed, i made love to her. i perfectly slotted myself between the softness of her thighs while basking in her warmth. i can feel myself getting harder at the memory. fuck, i need her. despite taking her for several hours, i can't get enough of her. i'll finish up this entry and place my hands between her slick sweetness- don't worry, i'll make sure she's awake and needy for me so that i can look back at this entry and smile at the memory. I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE

august 18, 20:00 that damn hunter keeps bothering her again, shamelessly flirting with her while constantly begging her to heal him. i bet he wants her. i bet he has thoughts of fucking her. why else does he keep leading her hands toward his shoulder like that? and why are his eyes shining with lust for her like that? i'm going to have to teach him a lesson- after all, my love doesn't know any better, so there's no way i could ever punish her. it's my duty to protect her. to save her from all men that wish to use her- ah, he's here. i'll end my entry for now.

after reading those few entries, your head began to spin, recalling each of those days with perfect clarity. after those entries, jinwoo seemed to lose all coherent thoughts, spending the next hundred of pages detailing your every activity-

from how you slept-

to what you wore-

even going down to such minuscule details like what you had for your meals and what you were constantly doing marked by the hours-

and now, you had context for the sudden disappearance of the hunter you had healed all those months ago-

nausea was felt coursing through your veins as you shoved the journal away from you, running into the bathroom as you threw up the contents of your breakfast and lunch into the porcelain toilet. even when your stomach was emptied of its contents, you kept on dry heaving, trying to get rid of the sourness felt deep inside of you.

time passes seemingly in a sluggish manner, with you flushing the toilet before crawling out of the bathroom. when you tried to stand back to your full height, a wave of dizziness hits you-

but one thought still remains-

i need to get out of here!

those words were what ultimately pushes you forward, with your uneven breaths filling at the air as your feet pounded against the floors, about to reach the front door when a sudden shift was felt in the air.

"i knew that it was best for me to save my shadow exchange for moments like this."

a silent scream escapes from your parted lips when jinwoo suddenly appears before you. he simply holds your arms tightly within his hands, not even using his full strength when he manages to fully apprehend you.

tears stream down your face as you actively fought against him, but to no avail...

all you managed to do was further tire yourself out, slumping back down to the floors as jinwoo coos at you, using his full weight against you while bearing you down against the cold, hardwood floors.

"it's okay... it's okay... i'm not mad at you for reading my most private thoughts. in fact, i WANTED you to read them someday! that way, you will know the full extent of my pure love and devotion to you!"

your tears were trailing down your face in cascades now, the sobs wracking through your body with such visceral and potent fear that violent tremors began taking over your form from beneath him. yet still, jinwoo keep staring down at you with those glowing, violet gaze, never once looking away from you.

"you're mine..." he says your name in a bit of a drunken haze, "it doesn't matter how you feel about me now, because i'm never letting you go!"

crazed laughter echoes throughout the area, with jinwoo drowning out your sobs and cries for help by kissing your lips deeply-

in mere seconds, the rose-colored lens had finally shattered the moment you tasted something coppery and bitter from within his lips...

a.n. - while re-reading solo leveling, the panel used as the preview of my story genuinely scared me, which was what further solidified mine and everyone else's belief in the yandere potential he had 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #yandere jinwoo x reader #yandere x reader #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

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idksmtms · 3 months ago

Text

You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 9

Full Request

Part 8 << PART 9 >> Part 10

AN: I am so so so sorry it took me so long to get this out omg. First it was life, then it was uni, then writer’s block and just aaaa! Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading this and keeping up with it since it started. I am so thankful to all of you!!! I hope you enjoy this and get ready for the final part of the series!

Summary: Percy learns the ways of camp, meets new and… interesting people, and embarks on a quest that will change his life.

Word count: ~10.8k

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), personal insecurity, absentee parents technically, abandonment issues, angst, kidnapping, depictions of someone being held against their will, way too heavy use of dramatic irony, any warnings associated with Percy’s adventures, (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. (I do use some scenes from the show verbatim but I did not write the dialogue for those scenes, only the descriptions attached.)

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Percy heard the soft rustle of a voice on the wind. Surely he had imagined it, he thought, gazing around the darkness of the woods, the shadows in the leaves and the sudden quiet that had descended once more. But he would swear on his life that he had heard a quiet “Perseus…” whisper in the wind. He shook his head, wiping at his eyes to make sure any trace of tears and pain had disappeared, before tossing the contents of his little fire onto the forest floor and stamping out the embers.

Night had descended on Camp Half-Blood and everyone had taken to their cabins. While a quiet chatter still emitted from the doors of each cabin, the grounds of the camp were mostly still and silent, disturbed only by the occasional stamping of hooves from the pegasus stables, and Percy Jackson tiredly making his way to the bathrooms.

He turned the corner around the (rather magnificent) bathroom building, only to be faced with Clarisse, arms crossed, stern look painted on her face. Another two of Ares kids stood behind her, a pack of wolves.

“Hey guys! Can’t sleep, huh?” Percy joked, though the hairs on his arms rose.

They were quick to pounce on him, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him into the outhouse cabin as Clarisse watched on nonchalantly. They threw him to the floor, and he grunted as he fell back, hitting it with a smack. He turned onto his back, palms pressed down as he gazed up at her. He felt a bit like an ant about to be squashed under her boot.

“Every new kid shows up here and they think they’re special. Do you think you’re special?” Clarisse asked, nudging her chin forward as she waited for a response. Percy frowned, glancing around at all of them.

“No?”

The two with Clarisse grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet, the one to his left grabbing at his hoodie. He struggled, grunting as he tried to push them off, but they were built of steel, immovable.

“Tell me you made it all up about the Minotaur, and I’ll let you go.” Clarisse came to stand right in front of him, staring him down. Percy frowned in confusion.

“I didn’t make anything up.”

Clarisse glanced between the two kids holding onto him, then gestured to the stall with her head, barely a movement. They began to haul Percy toward it, each of them groaning with the effort. He struggled, his feet just about scraping the ground. Clarisse sighed as she watched on.

“Some kids gotta learn the hard way.”

The boy to his left kicked the back of his knee and forced him down to lean in front of the toilet. The smell of detergent and water and that distinct porcelain toilet smell began to overwhelm him. He was desperate now, disoriented and desperate to escape. He could hear Clarisse’s sinister chuckle behind him as she watched on like some sick dictator taking pleasure in her clever torture methods.

They forced his face down to the toilet bowl, right to the edge of the seat. His nose began dipping down just under it, a hair’s breadth from the water. He closed his eyes, willing for escape, willing for strength, anything to get him out of this hellish predicament. When suddenly, the water was sucked back up into the pipes. He heard it, carefully prying his eyes open and seeing it quickly fall through the hole and disappear.

The two kids let him go and quickly stood up and moved back. The sound of water gurgling was suddenly rumbling under the cabin. They all stood still and listened. It was like a flash. The water shot out of the toilet and above Percy’s head as he crouched down to avoid it. It seemed to separate into three tendrils, smashing through the walls of the stall and turning into swirling columns that attacked each of the others standing just outside.

They were shoved into the walls, onto the floor by the door. The water was quick to dissipate, falling onto the floor in a splash. The three Ares kids looked like drowned rats, drenched and dripping in damp shirts and jeans, shoes that squelched as they gasped and tried to find their bearings.

Percy slowly unfurled from where he was crouched by the toilet bowl. Water was bursting out of the sinks, the floor was slippery and slowly turning into a lake. Even the sprinklers had burst open and poured down on them. He stood up straight, shaking, hoodie dishevelled from the roof treatment and stared at Clarisse as she shook the water off her hands. Her hair draped around her face, limp, and she glared at him with the power of a thousand suns. She was quick to run after her already fleeing companions.

Percy watched after her, slowly stepping out of the stall, shoes drenched and splashing through the rising water on the floor. He looked around him at the destruction, at the fountain spouting from the right-most sink. He almost gasped to find a girl with long braids leaning against the door, arms crossed, watching him.

“I can explain,” he began slowly. She huffed.

“No you can’t.”

“Okay,” he breathed out. He glanced around awkwardly, but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from her for long. He soon realised why.

“Wait, I know you.”

“No you don’t.” She answered instantly, shaking her head as she looked at him with something akin to disdain.

“Yeah, but you were there. That night in the infirmary.”

“Yes. I’m Annabeth.” She introduced herself like it was a given, like she was the most Annabeth Annabeth an Annabeth could be.

“Are you stalking me, Annabeth?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. She thought for a moment.

“Yes,” she shrugged.

“Okay,” he said slowly, nodding his head. “Why?” She seemed almost annoyed that he would bother asking her why.

“Well, I’ve been waiting to see if something like this,” she gestured to the room with her hand, “would happen. So I’d know if you can help me.” She shifted and leaned more firmly against the wall.

“Help you do what?” Percy asked, shifting a little closer.

“Win Capture the Flag.”

That was the last thing Percy expected her to say.

Percy gasped for air, glancing between Luke’s celebration and the pebbles on the beach. His entire body seemed to gasp for air. Fighting Clarisse, breaking her spear, it was almost like the Minotaur all over again. His blood was thrumming, the cut on his cheek burned, but… he felt alive. He had known exactly what to do, how to move. Instinct. The conflict of emotion rose within him, and all he could do was stand there and pant.

“Not bad, hero.” His head shot to the left, but he could only see the treeline. A moment later the air shimmered and Annabeth appeared, pulling a Yankees cap from her head as she strolled down to meet him. He frowned at her, still panting.

“Were you here the whole time?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes,” she responded, as if it was obvious.

“You were here the whole time and you didn’t help me?” He asked, almost yelling, shocked and angry.

“Yes,” she shrugged, again, behaving like this was obvious and normal.

“Why?!”

Annabeth simply stepped forward and held out her hand to him. He looked at her, at her hand, then with a grunt, reached out and grabbed it, allowing her to help haul him back to his feet. She looked into his eyes, suddenly serious.

“Listen…” she trailed off. “Percy.” He stared at her, eyebrows twitching into a frown of confusion. But she just shook her head and frowned in frustration, “I’m sorry,” and shoved him in the chest.

He went reeling back, stumbling over his own heels and slamming straight into the water. It was barely knee height, but he splashed and flailed for a moment before lifting his head and chest up to stare at her in astonished frustration.

“What is wrong with you?!” He yelled, loud enough for the rest of team blue to turn away from their celebrations and stare at the pair of them.

He struggled to his feet, standing in the surf, and about to make his way back onto dry land when Annabeth began running her eyes over him. He felt it, an almost tingling feeling in the places he had been cut. He reached up to his cheek, gently grazed his finger over his cheekbone, but there was nothing there, only unblemished skin. The bruises and cuts on his arms seemed to wash away with the water, the dirt and blood dripping away as if it had never marred his body in the first place. Percy examined his arms then looked at Annabeth in fearful confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

But Annabeth wasn’t looking at him. Her face, soft in triumph then awe, was tilted up to the space above his head. He noticed a soft glow of light fall over his eyes and he leaned back, looking up at the space above his head. There, hovering over him was a glowing blue trident. It was like some high-tech hologram, sharp and clear. Annabeth huffed out a chuckle as she looked at it.

“Your dad’s calling.” Percy glanced back to look at her, before realising that every person in camp had their eyes fixated on him. Luke and Chris turned away from the flag, staring at the sign above his head in shock as Chiron slowly made his way down the beach. He looked as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing as he gazed down at Percy.

“You have been claimed by Poseidon, Earthshaker, Stormbringer.” Chiron announced, continuing to stare at him as if Percy had just grown wings or done something else that would be considered actually impossible in this impossible world. “Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon.”

A gasp ran around the camp. A murmur arose amongst everyone watching, hands coming up to shield their mouths as they whispered to each other.

“This is impossible.”

“How is this possible?”

“Poseidon… was he ever known for having affairs?”

“I thought he had never had a demigod child. Like… ever.”

“Has this ever been mentioned in any of the old stories?”

“What about Poseidon and…? I thought the whole story of her betrayal and banishment…”

“Poseidon was only known to ever take one lover…”

“But the old stories about Poseidon and…”

“What is everyone whispering about?!” Percy burst out, staring with wide wild eyes.

“Come, Percy, we have much to discuss,” Chiron gently gestured to the boy. But his mind was racing behind his calm eyes, because if there was one thing to know about Poseidon other than his domain over the sea, it was that he was a god who loved only one…

You were not sure how to describe your prison. It was a prison in your own mind. A room with no door. Stark white. A roof that both closed in on you, yet was an endless sea of white… Walls that did not permit you to escape, but if you reached out to touch them, only a white expanse was bare before you. Except one. One wall was an eye, or at least, what an eye would see. Like those huge screens humans had invented. You could watch your son, your Perseus. You could watch him live his life, watch him struggle through the ins and outs of camp, like a fly following him around, watching everything so you could watch him too, like a never ending play or a film. It was torture. It was a blessing.

You were curled up on the floor, your head on your hands as you watched the girl shove him into the sea. As you watched your husband, the love of your life, do what you could not. Your eyes welled up, pain and joy fluttering together in a dance in your chest. He knew of his father. At least he knew of his father. You stared at the glowing symbol of Poseidon. Your heart called out desperately for him. Your mind screamed his name, over and over. Wished only for him and Perseus. Only for him and Perseus. Only for him and…

Mr. D sat in the glass attachment of the Big House and sipped from a Diet Coke as he stared off into space. The news of Percy’s claim had reached him. A son of Poseidon. How intriguing…

He had been there, of course, that day so long ago that it blended into the long-reaching fabric of time. Though he had been rather tipsy off his own wine, he had still been there to welcome the Norse gods. And though he was perhaps not the most observant of gods, anyone could have seen the way Poseidon had become enraptured with you. But who could deny that? You were beautiful and kind, you had even had Hermes vying for your heart back then. But Poseidon had been triumphant, of course he had been.

And it was… different, between you and Poseidon. Even him, deep in his cups, could note that. You had returned for him, glowed with a love for him that would make Aphrodite and Eros jealous. What you and Poseidon had found with each other, no other gods could boast of that. Even after your banishment, after the separation of the Greek and Norse gods, Poseidon had held onto you. He could tell.

At first it was because he was sure you two were meeting despite the danger. Though Poseidon had fought the banishment with his entire heart, had raged at Zeus for so long, he had sort of, calmed down after a while. His fighting was not so pronounced, as if he had found some peace somehow. It was only plausible that the two of you had found each other again. But then, millenia later, Poseidon had become stony-faced once more. He stayed secluded to the sea, only returning to Olympus for the most dire of matters, not giving into Zeus, losing any… whimsy he may have once possessed. It became a dark picture.

So to see Percy Jackson appear now, a son of Poseidon… Well, something didn’t quite add up. Poseidon would not have been disloyal. He would not have strayed. The love he held for you was not so easily swayed. It was simply not possible that Percy had a human mother. Or a mother other than… you.

Mr. D turned his head to look out at the water and chewed lightly at his lip. He wouldn’t say anything yet. He feared others may have already begun to connect the dots. Because if what he suspected was the truth… then Percy was nothing so simple as a forbidden child…

“As a forbidden child of the sea god, you are singular amongst demigods. And your father’s only hope to prevent the outbreak of war.” Chiron stood with his back to the windows as he looked down at Percy. Percy still wasn’t quite used to craning his neck back to look up at the centaur. “For months now, Zeus and Poseidon have been locked in a dispute over the master bolt. The symbol of Zeus’s authority. And it has been stolen. Again.”

“What do you mean, again?” Percy asked, head tilted and face scrunched up in confusion.

“It was stolen once, a very long time ago,” Chiron sighed, looking out the door behind Percy wistfully. “But…well, that’s another story for another time.”

“Who stole it?” Percy asked, hoping to keep the conversation on track. He wasn’t sure where this was going.

“You did.” Mr. D answered, arms hanging at his sides as he nodded toward Percy.

“What?” Percy frowned, looking between Mr. D and Chiron. How was being claimed by Poseidon not the weirdest thing to happen to him today?

“Zeus is looking for a thief, sees a forbidden child claimed by his jealous brother… It doesn’t look good for you, kid.” Mr. D gestured to Percy with his hand, shrugging.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Of course you didn’t,” Chiron soothed, looking at Percy with soft eyes. “But, your father needs your help. An ultimatum has been given to him by Zeus, that if he doesn’t return the bolt by the summer solstice in 1 week… there will be war.” Chiron paused, and the gravity of his words began to settle over the room. War. An immortal war… “That is your quest. You must leave immediately.”

“Leave?” Percy looked up at Chiron, the frown on his face deepening. “Leave for where?”

“Zeus is king on Olympus, and Poseidon has always resented it, but there is a third brother, who has always deeply resented them both.” Chiron shifted a little.

“It’s Hades,” Percy mused, his mind running through all the old myths Aunt Sally used to tell him. Myths… he couldn’t really call them myths anymore, could he?

“Yes.” Chiron nodded, threading his fingers together in front of him.

“The bolt is with Hades. In the Underworld.” Percy voiced slowly, mouth moving stiffly over the words.

“I know it sounds daunting,” Chiron looked down at him sympathetically, almost ready to gently pat him on the shoulder. “But you won’t be alone. A quest is always undertaken by three.”

“Great. Good luck finding those guys, cause it ain’t gonna be me.” Percy shook his head, holding up his hands and ready to begin backing away. He did not sign up for this. None of this was necessary, at least not for him.

“Poseidon has claimed you. This is his will.” Chiron said it with such finality, as if it was a given. But Percy wasn’t ready to go down without a fight.

“Poseidon has ignored me my entire life,” Percy bit out, jaw clenching as anger began to rise up in his chest.

“You are his son.” Mr. D jabbed his finger at him, as if that answered every possible query.

“I am Sally Jackson’s son,” Percy shouted, glaring at Mr. D. He wasn’t going to let some random god come in here and claim to be his dad, as if he had ever been there, ever done anything that a father should do… Sally may have called herself his aunt, but he knew what a mother was, what a mother did, and she had always been that for him.

“Who’s Sally Jackson?” Mr. D frowned, almost yelling.

“She’s the one who cared enough to raise me, when my parents didn’t. She’s the one who got herself killed so that I could be safe here.” Percy bit his lip, the frustration piling into the backs of his eyes in the form of tears. His hands were shaking and all he wanted was… all he wanted was for Aunt Sally to be there.

“The fate of the world hangs in the balance. You will accept this quest,” Mr. D told him firmly, eyes widening as he glared right back at Percy.

“I won’t!”

“Hey everybody!” Grover appeared at the door, an awkward little smile on his face as he quickly hopped into the room.

“Grover, now is not the time.” Chiron frowned, shaking his head at Grover, but the satyr was not deterred.

“I’m sorry sir. But I have news,” Grover continued on, looking away from Chiron to Percy, determined.

“Grover…” Chiron warned, knowing exactly where this was going, and fearing the consequences.

“Sally Jackson is alive! It looked like she died, but it only looked that way,” Grover exclaimed, not bothered to wait a second longer. He looked at Percy directly, right into his eyes as he shared the news.

“Grover…” Mr. D warned this time, tone low and eyes angry and exhausted.

“Your mother was stolen… by Hades. Which means she’s with him now. In the Underworld. It’s where they want you to go too, isn’t it?” He asked quickly, looking between the two teachers and Percy. “If you can find her there, I think you can bring her back…” Grover encouraged, clasping his hands together in front of him.

Percy looked at Grover, and all he could hear was that Aunt Sally was alive. She was alive. That was all that mattered. Aunt Sally was alive. And he would do anything, anything, to get her back.

“When do we leave?”

Percy trudged his way up to the top of the BIg House, and pushed open the door to the attic. It creaked, an old, horror movie-style creak. It was dark, almost pitch-black, and the attic was full to the brim with… things. Helmets, mirrors, weird old togas, and even a weird dead scorpion-looking thing in a jar. He looked around at the array of items, and walked slowly through the room. The floorboards creaked and a phantom breeze made the weird hanging cages swing a little.

He walked to the back of the room, where a grimy circular window let in the faintest wash of light. Suddenly, there was a creaking on the other side of the room, like someone had sat down in an old rocking chair and was now slowly moving back and forth. He turned, heading off in that direction.

There was another circular window, parallel to the one he had just stood by. This one seemed only slightly cleaner, and beamed light directly down onto… someone. Something. Whatever, in a rocking chair. Percy slowly walked closer, squinting and trying to get a look at the person. They had their hands draped on the armrests of the rocking chair, their head dropped down onto their shoulder as if they had fallen asleep, or had a really bad bout of neck pain. Their hair was long, unkempt, draped over their shoulders and chest. He really hoped she was the oracle he had been told about…

“Hi,” his voice cracked. “I’m Percy. It’s nice to meet you.” She didn’t move. She didn’t even rock back in her chair. Percy glanced down, a little afraid of looking at her too long, and huffed. “I was told a quest isn’t a quest until you’ve said so?” The body did nothing. Nothing. “Which is weird, considering you’re a Halloween decoration.” He sighed out his words, feeling hopeless and a little bit stupid to be speaking to what was clearly some weird stuffed model.

All of a sudden it began to shift. Her shoulders lifted, bones cracking as she moved and stretched her spine, grabbed harder onto the chair.

“Oh geez,” his heart began to race. She lifted her head, leaned forward in her chair and stared directly at him. “You seem busy. I’ll come back,” he scrambled, moving back a little before turning away, ready to sprint out of the wretched attic. Who kept an attic like this anyway?!

But he could hear… something. It was like a garbled whisper, like a sharp icy breath out. Percy turned back around, looking at her, when her mouth began to open, and a noxious green smoke poured out. It was thick and opaque, a dark swampy green. It poured out of her mouth and began to swirl, moving this way and that, as it slowly began to take shape.

He could vaguely make out a person, a dark shadow of shoulders and a head, when it suddenly cleared into an image of… Smelly Gabe.

“Come on, really?” Percy sighed out, already annoyed by this stupid oracle business. This was the shape it chose? Seriously?

“You shall go west and face the god who has turned. And you shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned. The answers to the questions of your life, lay on this journey through grief and strife. Truths to be uncovered are plenty abound, necessary to free a hidden world once found. You shall be betrayed by the one who calls you friend, and fail to save what matters most, in the end.”

You sat up onto your knees as you watched Percy leave the safety of Camp Half-Blood. You had cried as he took on the quest, sobbed as the kind son of Hermes offered your boy his shoes. Your insides were a flock of birds, constantly flapping their wings and fluttering inside your heart, your stomach. You bounced between joy at seeing your son, at being able to watch him now, to watch him learn the world he came from, and the crushing pain and dread at the thought that you could not protect him from any of it.

You watched him on the bus, his face falling at the thought that Zeus, that random gods, would want to chase him, to kill him just for being born. That he was no longer safe. You crawled to the image on your knees, sobbing as you reached out. You brushed the image of his cheek with your fingertips, like old humans caressed photographs from their youth. You pressed your face to his, wishing you could wrap your arms around him, press loving kisses to his forehead and tell him that his mother loved him, that his mother never wanted to leave him.

Then you began to scream as the Fury attacked him.

It was a curse. Surely it was a curse that Odin had placed on you. To finally be able to see your cherished child, after years of being blind to him, only to watch him experience the most difficult times of his little life. He was so little… Twelve years was nothing, even less than the blink of an eye in your lifetime. But it was still so much time you had missed… so much time…

And now, now when you were finally able to see him again, to take joy in the fact that he was alive, that he was under your watch once more, you could do nothing to help him. Nothing. You wailed for so long, with so much strength… you wailed until you could no longer wail.

Outside your prison, Odin listened, his heart shredding itself to pieces at his daughter, his beloved child in so much pain. Pain he put upon her. But it was for your own good. Odin had to be strong. He was the Allfather, he knew what was best for you, even if you could not see it. One day, perhaps if Perseus survived his adventures and learned of his godly origins, Odin could release you so you could reunite with your child.

He understood your pain now. He felt it as keenly as he could, but he loved you most dearly. You were his child, his most beloved child, and it was his job to protect you in the best way he could, the best way he knew how. Even if it caused you a little pain right now, you would be better off in the future. It was how it was written, he was sure.

Freya had already tried her best to fight him on this. She had demanded your release, demanded of Odin to stop this madness. He may be the allfather but she was his child, and nothing should cause his child pain. But Freya didn’t know about Perseus, about Zeus and the threat of a war between gods that would destroy Midgard… No, she didn’t know.

Perhaps he could be kind though, lenient in his imprisonment of you. Allowing Freya to visit you would perhaps soothe you a little, would perhaps calm Freya’s fighting spirit. He too was feeling rather destroyed listening to your pain. Yes, perhaps he could arrange that at least…

You believed you were on the bridge of madness. Or perhaps you had been cursed to lose your godly powers and become human, unstable. The laughs of relief and triumph that bubbled out of you as he cut off the Gorgon’s head, as he used it to turn the Fury to stone. Because how could you laugh in this prison, amongst all the pain? It was pride, clear as fresh water that burst through you, bubbled within your chest and overflowed along your skin. You were proud of your darling Perseus. He was intelligent and resourceful. He was kind and loyal, and all the good things you had always hoped for him to be. He was good.

And you laughed again as you watched him send the head to Olympus. Laughed and laughed and laughed until your heart ached and you dissolved into tears once more.

You could see her. Echidna, smirking as she threatened your child. You yelled, screamed, tried with all your might for Percy to hear you, to run. The creature stuffed into that bag, hidden in plain sight, was not to be trifled with. A chimera, young, and hungry.

You dug your nails into the ground, pressed your face close to watch Perseus, Grover, and Annabeth jump from the train. You watched them, catching your breath as they did theirs.

He clutched his side, groaning in pain. It felt as though you had run out of tears. You had cried so much for your son that you could cry no more. You reached out, gently caressing his hair, wishing you knew how his beautiful curls actually felt. Those were the curls his father had when he stepped out of the water and allowed himself to be at the whim of the water and the sea air. Those were your curls once too…

You watched the little group stroll through the St. Louis arch, watched Percy collapse, his pallour became blue and sickly. Your pain was renewed. Every time you thought you had felt the worst of it, some new fresh horror was presented to you, and you were right back at the start.

You watched them douse him with the fountain water but you could only shake your head, fidgeting in agony, pursing your lips and biting on them as you refrained from screaming. He needed the sea, proper, fresh, natural water. The water blessed by his father.

Instead they took him into the temple. But you knew, you knew that wretched Athena would not help them, not even her own daughter. Her own glory mattered more. She would do nothing to aid them. You were proven right as the chimera ventured easily through the doors, sniffing at the ground as it chased after their scent, the Echidna strolling leisurely behind her abomination. You vowed that you would send her to Tartarus. She would arrive slowly, in pieces that would take eons to be put back together. It would take her eons to return to the world, eons in which she experienced the same agony she had inflicted on your son.

And then you watched him be brave. Your darling boy, sacrificing himself for his friends. Your cheeks were wet with tears, and you could do nothing but clench your hands into fists and watch him face the creature. He held the sword in his hands like he was meant to, he was a fighter, he was born to be. You watched his eyes set with determination, his jaw clench, even as the poison coursed through his body. You smiled, a tearful, pained smile because your son was a true hero.

But when he dangled from the monument, his hands desperately gripping at the metal bar, you began to pray to Odin, to Poseidon, you even stooped so low as to beg Zeus. If only some other god, someone who could help your son, save him. But none heard your prayers. They bounced back hollowly against the walls, right into your ears.

And as he fell from the monument, his hands slipping and his body careening through the air, you screamed. At the top of your lungs. You wailed, hands pressed into the ground. Your power rose within you, a crashing flood rising up from your belly to your chest, spreading through your fingertips. Your eyes began to glow, flickering with blue light as your very being trembled. Your mouth was open, a screech of pain and suffering flooding the room. The walls shook, you could feel the floor trembling beneath you as you watched your son fall to his doom. You overflowed.

Every god and creature, each one of the Aesir felt your anguish. The world shook, the very branches of Yggdrasil trembled.

Odin listened in fear, watched as cracks appeared in the boundaries of your prison. You would not be held for long. Your love for your son… it was boundless, endless, and it fed your power like nothing else. You would be held. His only choice… he only had one choice.

Then suddenly, as you felt the powerful waterfall of relief as his father saved him, as your husband did his duty, you were immobile. You could no longer move. You were sitting on your folded legs, head turned to watch your son’s life play before your eyes, and you could do nothing but watch. It was the same as the day Odin had put you in the prison. You could do nothing.

The walls had moved in close, you could feel them brush against your arms and legs, as if the prison was fitted to the size of your body with only an inch to spare on each side. And your son’s life filled your eyes, as if you were there with him, hovering near, unable to speak, unable to touch, unable to help, but always there, at his shoulder, watching him.

You despised Ares. You despised him with every drop of your soul. Every piece of you reviled him. He was a god of war, like you, but he took pleasure in it, enjoyed the death and destruction. You were so far from him. The two purposes in you were constantly fighting, love and war, so often intertwined. People fought wars for love, but love had no place in war. You did not love war, though you patroned it. You fought to end war, you fought the war to reach peace. Perhaps a contradiction in itself. But you did not take pleasure in it. Never once. And you reviled Ares so for enjoying it.

What you hated more, was that he was in the presence of your son. You did not want Perseus anywhere near him. You did not want the foul presence of Ares to taint the air around your son, let alone for him to speak to your beloved child. He was hateful, vile, the personification of destruction. Your Perseus was everything good and brave. Those things did not go together.

You watched the sickening god of war laugh as he toyed with the children, twisting their minds this way and that, proffering his joy of an inevitable war. You felt sick to your stomach.

It was even worse when he tasked them with retrieving his shield, dangling the ease of entering the underworld just under their noses. Of course they would accept the task, it would be stupid to refuse. It was just as bad to accept it though…

You liked the girl, Annabeth. She was brave, unafraid of standing up to Ares. You respected that. You were glad she was with your boy, she would take good care of him. She was good too. A soft little smile twitched at your lips though your mouth didn’t move.

It was another torture to watch your son and Annabeth try to work through Hephaestus’ amusement park. It was a sad moment, you had never had any quarrel with Hephaestus. He had kept to his own on Olympus. The most you had seen him interact with anyone was Hestia, she treated him kindly, there was a type of love there, between them, you just weren’t quite sure what it was. And Aphrodite, that jealous creature, she had mistreated him beyond belief. The one time you had seen the two of them interact, she had spoken to him with vile words, cutting him down as if she had not once been bound to him in marriage, as if there was nothing sacred there… It disgusted you. You only held sympathy for the poor god.

But if anything of his doing caused harm to your son… all sympathy would die, fall into the black pit your heart was slowly becoming. If any of those gods hurt your son, you would personally see to their destruction.

You watched him narrate the story of the chair to Annabeth, and you beamed with pride. He was intelligent, he knew his immortal history. A pang of sadness hit your chest then. Sally, your dearest friend Sally, was responsible for this, him. She was responsible for raising him, and she did such a wonderful job. She raised a boy with integrity, respect, honour, valour, intelligence, confidence, every possible good thing a boy could be! It was all her. Neither you, nor Poseidon could take any credit for the amazing child he turned out to be. It was all Sally. And now she was trapped, held in the clutches of Hades, for who knows what reason? He had been a friend once, a dear friend among the Greek Gods. Surely he knew about Perseus, knew of his heritage… What reason did he have to keep Sally Jackson and somehow fuel this budding war between his brothers?

You watched him stare at Annabeth with pain in his eyes. You wept as they argued, fighting to be the one to sacrifice themselves. You wanted to reach out, to clutch them both to your chest and hide them from the evils they had faced. You could feel it, the bond the two shared as they looked at each other. They were still children, so small, so young, but they were connected. There was friendship, there was love, the innocent pale love of children. You sobbed as Percy sat on the chair and allowed the gold to creep over his skin. Cried, agonising tears as he smiled, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling, the beautiful blue eyes of his father… soon overtaken by gold.

You watched Annabeth, dear darling Annabeth, whose heart was filled with care and loyalty, step over the shield they so desperately needed to complete their task. You watched her round the chair, gaze at the gears, using all her knowledge. You watched her struggle with each piece, trying with all her might to twist and turn something, anything. Just one cog. All she needed was to be able to turn one cog and reverse whatever the chair had done.

You watched on. There was nothing you could do but watch, locked in a prison of your father’s making. You watched as Hephaestus entered the room, watched him as he watched her. As she wept silent tears and ignored his offer to leave, struggling with a machine she could not understand, would never understand.

Against your wishes your heart sparked a little. The girl wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t leave Percy. And not only would she not leave, she wouldn’t stand down from Hephaestus either. You would have laughed had you not felt as if you had entered a period of mourning. Annabeth had forever cemented a place in your heart. And perhaps, she had carved out a piece of Hephaestus’ too. If you ever escaped this place, if you were ever free to roam the realms of Yggdrasil once more, you would bestow every possible blessing you could on the child. She saved your son, she stayed loyal and fought to save him. Nothing you could do as a god would ever be payment enough for this…

You felt such beautiful, innocent, joy when you realised Ares’ plan was to get Percy to Hermes. Your dear friend Hermes, a kind soul you trusted with the entirety of your own. He would help Percy. You knew he would. If he suspected, even for a moment, that Percy was your son, you were sure he would help him. He had cared for you once, graciously kept you company those many eons ago on Olympus. Yes, you knew he would help. He had to.

And once more you were filled with pride, beautiful, lethal, pride as you watched Percy stand toe to toe with the inimitable god of war. As you watched him put Ares in his place. You smiled in triumph. Your son was just like you, even if it was only in your shared hatred of Ares.

Your mind was beginning to work on overdrive behind your frozen facade. If Ares was protecting Clarisse this time, it meant Ares must have stolen the bolt the first time. It made sense, he was the first one to accuse you of stealing the bolt. It is far easier to be absolved when you can rest the blame on another.

But why would he steal it? Why would he steal it just to return it so soon after? What was his agenda? The goal must have been to be rid of you, to destroy the alliance between the Greek and Norse gods. But why? And why steal it again now? What new plan had he cooked?

The cogs of your mind turned and turned, circling the thoughts but not being able to settle on any answer as you gazed absentmindedly at the children on their journey to the Lotus Casino.

And when they reached the casino, you could sense something was wrong. It was covered in a haze, something unnatural. There was something wrong with the Casino, and despite all your wishes for the children not to go in, you knew they would. You only hoped they found Hermes quickly.

When Percy and Annabeth finally lay eyes on him, you beamed. He had chosen a new form since you had seen him last, this one was much more… modern, casual. He still had the same smirk though, the same mischievous glint in his eyes. He was still your same old Hermes. You wanted to reach out and touch him too, to wrap him in a hug and thank him for his friendship from eons ago. Even just a word would do, anything to let him know you were there, to let anyone know you were there….

A stray tear slipped from your eye leaving a ticklish trail down your cheek.

You watched his face fall at the mention of Luke. Luke… the boy who had helped Percy at camp, who had been so kind to your son. Of course he was a child of Hermes, of course! You wanted to laugh. The world came full circle. His father had once been kind to you, and now he was kind to your son. The Fates loved to weave their threads in such magnificent ways.

If nothing else, maybe for the love of his son, Hermes would help yours.

You did the only thing you could do, watching Percy speak to the Nereid. They had only just missed each other. Only just. Your Poseidon, your beloved Poseidon had been there, you could have seen him again, laid eyes on him once more… but Percy was too late. He was too late.

You wanted to scream, but only a small choked sound left your lips. You exhausted yourself trying to fight the stillness, willing your limbs to move, just move! One inch, one twitch was enough. Just something to end this prison sentence. You wanted to disappear, to disintegrate. You wanted the humans to stop believing in you, for Ragnarok to take you into the endless darkness. You did not want to be the statue of a god any longer.

But all you could do was sit there and watch the Nereid hand your son the pearls to return him safely. All you could do was watch your darling boy continue on this perilous journey. All you could do was… nothing.

You watched the little gang of friends make their way through the Underworld. You watched them traverse past the souls, millions of people desperate to make their way to the next life. And you watched, with bated breath, as they outran Cerberus. He was a magnificent beast, three headed and humongous. A gorgeous creature. You had heard many tales from Hades, once upon a time… the dog was a loyal companion, if a little, uh, unconventional. The children simply needed to show him some love, he was a gentle beast if you treated him right.

Annabeth was intelligent though, and you were glad to see her figure it out. Each and every moment she rose higher in your esteem. You could hope for no better companion for Percy than Annabeth.

Your heart leapt into your throat as the shoes began dragging Grover towards the gaping maw of Tartarus. Your vision of them began to turn hazy. Whatever magic allowed you to see Percy was weaker in the Underworld, even weaker close to Tartarus. Your gaze on them flickered as Percy hauled Grover back up, watching the shoes fall into the pit.

As Percy slowly unzipped his backpack and pulled the lightning bolt out, you gasped in shock, or at least, in your mind you did. The bolt… why was it in Percy’s bag? But the bag… the bag was not Percy’s. That reviled god of war… he had given the bag to Percy. That hateful creature had possessed the bolt this entire time…

You cursed that villainous god, that repulsive deity… As soon as you were out of this prison, as soon as you had control of your limbs again, of your power, you would heap innumerable curses on him. You would personally find the Fates and ensure they wrote in only pain. You would go to the ends of Midgard to find ways to ensure the rest of his infinite days were filled with nothing but pain. You would… you would have your revenge.

He had destroyed your life. He had ruined the peace and love you had found on Olympus, ruined any hope you had of marrying the god you loved and living peacefully with him, having children peacefully with him. And now he was ruining your son’s life. This you could not stand for. This you would not allow.

You seethed as you watched on, as Percy and Grover considered their next steps. The ice suddenly surrounding your heart thawed a little as they set upon saving Sally. It seemed you would be endlessly proud of your son until the end of days.

They trekked across the Underworld to Hades’ Palace. You hoped Hades remained as he had once been. He was kind at heart. Despite his title, he was a gentle soul, with a rather dry sense of humour. You, in your limited time with him, had been friends once. You were also quite sure Poseidon favoured him over Zeus (though he did not hold much love for any of his family, and you could particularly understand why when it came to Zeus) and you hoped that would give Percy some sort of sympathetic edge.

“Hey, fellas. Welcome!” Hades walked over determinedly, arms outstretched in welcome. “Sorry about all the… Oh…” Percy and Grover watched him as he walked over from a distance, staring as he slowly became clearer and clearer. “Anyways, it’s great to meet you. I know who you are, and you know who I am, so we can just skip right past that part. Can I get you anything? Fresh pomegranate juice, a snack?”

You would have chuckled if you could. Though he seemed a little more…jovial, than he had been before, the dry humour had not been done away with. Oh how you missed him…

“Actually if…” Grover began, but was quickly interrupted.

“My aunt.” Percy’s face was set with determination.

“Boom. Straight to business.” Hades looked Percy up and down then offered him a little smile. “I admire the cut of your jib.” Percy looked on, unimpressed. “Little nautical reference for you,” Hades responded, before nodding his head a few times as his smile slipped away. “I see you.”

“Where is she?” Percy asked quickly, beginning to frown. He was not in the mood for any more godly trickery. He had been through far too much.

“Right. Okey-doke. Let’s get to it. Your aunt’s just over here.” Hades jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, then turned and began to walk in that direction. Percy and Grover glanced at each other, frowning in confusion. No way it could be that easy.

“You’ve come all this way, don’t be shy,” Hades called back. Percy and Grover were still for a moment more before quickly following after the God of the Underworld. He had already made substantial ground ahead of them.

They rounded a corner and he led them to a sitting room-type set up. On the side, by a set of brown leather couches, a golden statue stood of… Sally Jackson. She was reaching out, frozen in gold. You felt a certain kinship with her at that moment.

“Aunt Sally?” Percy looked on incredulously, moving haltingly through the threshold as Hades fiddled with a blue throw. “What did you do to her?” Percy asked, accusation heavy in his tone. Hades dropped the folded blanket onto one of the couches and turned to Percy.

“Uh,” he scoffed, “saved her life?” He gestured at the statue, as if it was not obvious enough already what he had done. “You know, typically, getting crushed by a Minotaur is a terminal diagnosis.”

Percy stared at the statue, at the way her arm was still reaching out, telling him to run. His Aunt Sally, the closest thing to a mother he had ever had…

“I snagged her for ya, just in the “ta-da” nick of time,” Hades smiled, “so that you would come see me. And here we are.” The God of the Underworld seemed so… pleased to see them, as if he had been waiting for this moment. “You give me what you got, and I’m giving you what I got.”

“I… I can’t give it to you.” Percy didn’t take his eyes off his Aunt Sally, but a heaviness suddenly filled his chest. Of course, Hades would want the bolt in exchange for Aunt Sally. But he couldn’t… he just couldn’t.

“Ah, see, there’s a quid and a quo here.”

“The bolt doesn’t belong to you.” Hades paused, his eyes flitting away in confusion. “Your plan almost worked. You and Ares managed to steal the bolt, trick me into bringing it right down and giving it to you. But it’s wrong, and I won’t do it. So all I can do is ask you to do the right thing, too. Please… let my aunt go.”

Hades was silent for a moment, watching Percy, before he shook his head and frowned in confusion.

“Huh?” He looked completely lost.

“What?” Percy asked in return, now feeling confused at the god’s confusion.

“Who… who tricked Ares into doing what?” Hades asked, squinting his eyes a little more.

“You’re in cahoots with Ares, to secure the bolt,” Grover supplied, looking at Hades with a sort of ‘duh’ expression.

“I’m not in cahoots with Ares,” Hades replied, “I seldom ‘cahoot’. The bolt is my brothers’ drama, I don’t want any part of it.” Hades fluttered his hand in the air, as if physically brushing away the idea that he would be interested in any of that.

“You don’t want it?” Percy asked, frowning as he stared at Hades.

“No.”

“Then what do you want?” Percy asked, holding his hands up a little. Hades looked between the two boys as if there were two village idiots standing before him.

“My helm!” He exclaimed.

“Your what?” Percy asked, frowning once more.

“My Helm of Darkness. It went missing just days before someone,” he pointed at Percy, “used it to turn invisible and steal the bolt. I’d like it back now, please, and then you get your aunt back.” He gestured with both his hands from the statue to Percy, then stood there, waiting for them to hand back what was rightfully his.

“You really don’t want the bolt?” Percy asked, leaning forward a little as if he couldn’t quite believe the conversation he was having.

“Why would I want that?” Hades asked, sighing exasperatedly.

“To start a war between your brothers,” Grover supplied, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why would I want that?” Hades repeated, staring at Grover.

“Jealousy!” Grover replied, glancing away as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain this to the person that was surely responsible.

“I don’t know if you noticed,” Hades began sarcastically, “but it’s all candy canes and rainbows down here. I’m managing just fine.” Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. “I don’t really do jealous.”

Percy began to think, staring at a spot on the floor as his mind slowly began to turn. “My brothers, on the other hand, have the market cornered on jealous.” Hades huffed. “Family drama is why I don’t go up there anymore. These grudges, they go on forever. Super unhealthy. Someone stole Zeus’s bolt, it wasn’t me, it must have been somebody who was…”

“Kronos,” Percy burst out. Hades twitched his head forward, fixing his eyes on Percy.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s got the longest grudge of them all. Zeus took Kronos’s throne. Who else has a bigger reason to weaken Zeus and take his throne back?” Percy told them, feeling the wheels in his brain begin to speed. Hades nodded his head a little, but sighed, glancing away from Percy.

“Kronos is in a million pieces at the bottom of…”

“Tartarus,” Percy interjected, “where something just tried to pull us into it the moment the bolt appeared in our bag.” Hades glanced the boy up and down. “Tartarus…” Percy repeated, thinking aloud. “Where I’ve been hearing a voice from in my dreams, telling me it needs my help to take down Olympus.” Percy walked closer to Hades, but the God of the Underworld simply stayed quiet, listening to the boy with an unbothered (if slightly exasperated) expression. “I assumed that was you, but that voice I heard… that definitely did not sound like you.”

Hades took a deep breath and sighed, blinking slowly as he looked away from the boys. He shifted a little, looked this way and that, before returning his gaze to the pair with his eyes set.

“Ask me for sanctuary.” He said it so simply.

“What?”

“If Kronos is somehow planning to emerge from his exile, and you were his first call… you’re not safe. Ask me, and I’ll protect you. You and your aunt,” Hades glanced back at Sally as he spoke. “And the goat,” he gestured to Grover carelessly with his hand. “I'll throw him in, on the house.” You would have kissed Hades for the offer. He would protect your son. He would do it. It was all you could hope for. But… but it would not be free. And knowing Percy over the time of your imprisonment… you knew he would not take it.

“This works out nice for you as it turns out. All it’ll cost you is the bolt,” Hades offered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the simplest of bargains.

“I thought you didn’t want the bolt?” Grover asked quickly.

“I don’t want the bolt. Now, I need the bolt. If war with Kronos is coming, I’d like to be prepared,” Hades told them. “Not messing around here, kid. This only ends one way. The only question is how difficult you make it.” Hades shifted on his feet, moving a little closer to Percy.

Percy looked away, settling his gaze on Sally. He ran his eyes over the smooth gold, the grooves of her hair and clothes, then subtly shook his head.

“No.” Hades had had enough. He stepped forward.

“Give me the bag.” He began reaching out for it but Percy pulled the pearl the Nereid had given him out of his pocket and held it up threateningly in the air. “Nice pearl,” Hades bit out sarcastically, glancing between it and the boy.

“I accept your offer,” Percy spoke quickly.

“Great!” Hades shook his head, confused why the boy was still threatening to disappear.

“Your first offer. We’re gonna go get your helm. And when I get back, you’re gonna let my aunt go.”

“Okay. Hang on, kid,” Hades moved forward once more, holding out his hands.

“Grover, now!” Percy yelled, and watched Grover throw the pearl at his feet and fall into a flash of light.

“WAIT!” Hades yelled, holding his hands up in surrender. Percy paused, his hand almost moving down to smash the pearl at his feet. “Wait, wait, just a minute.” After they took a few deep breaths each, Hades looked at Percy with a hint of more gentleness than before. “How’s your mother?” Percy stood up a little straighter in shock.

“My mother?” He frowned, bringing the hand with the pearl down a little.

“Yeah, your mother, kid. How’s she doing? I haven’t- I haven’t seen her in… actual eons. I’ve had no news about that side of the world so like, yeah, how’s she doing?”

“You… you know my mother?” Percy asked softly, clenching the pearl a little tighter in his hand as he gazed at Hades.

“Uh, yeah, kid, you’re my nephew, technically speaking, so I did know your mother, yes. How is she? I would’ve thought she would be all over you… I’m a bit surprised actually, seeing you do all this demigod work on your own…” Hades frowned and stared at Percy a little hard. “Why are you disguised as a demigod? I guess that would make it easier to steal the bolt, but your mother never seemed like the type to exact revenge… and she would never let you do this alone…” Hades began to mumble in thought, his frown deepening as his gaze on Percy became unfocused.

“Uh, yeah, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know how my mother is doing, I dont… I don’t even know who she is. My Aunt Sally raised me,” and he pointed at the statue behind Hades, raising his eyebrows as he gave the god an odd look. Hades stared at him, and the two stood still for a minute.

“What… what do you actually know about your parents, kid?” Hades asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Not a lot,” Percy shrugged, “I know Poseidon’s my dad now, I guess. But Aunt Sally never really told me anything about my mom except that she loved me and couldn’t raise me. Funny, loving me then abandoning me,” he mumbled sarcastically, huffing as he returned his gaze to Hades. “Why?” The God of the Underworld sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead, rubbing at his brow before standing up straighter again and gesturing to the couches.

“Have a seat, kid, this is going to be a long story.”

“No way, I’m not sitting down,” and Percy raised the pearl threateningly again.

“Ok! Ok! Don’t sit, I don’t care, I’m gonna sit down, though,” and Hades moved to the couch and sat down facing Percy. “Can’t imagine how this duty has fallen to me,” Hades grumbled. Percy watched him carefully, wondering where in the world this was going.

“A long time ago, like before the modern world long ago- wait, hold on a minute, how much do you know about Norse mythology?” “Norse mythology? I don’t know, not a lot. They have the guy Odin, and Thor and that tree of worlds or something.”

“Oh Olympus, ok, well, a long time ago, the Norse and Greek gods were at war for the world. There was fighting all over, random things, random places, but finally, Zeus and Odin met and created a peace treaty. It was far better for both worlds to interact peacefully, to give benefit to each other rather than destroy the world they were both inhabiting. As a gesture of goodwill, one of the few Zeus has ever bothered with by the way, he invited the Norse gods to Olympus. All of us were forced to attend, even yours truly, and your father too-”

“Is this story going somewhere? I have things to go do,” Percy hurried, but the god of the underworld just scoffed and glared at him.

“Can you just let me finish? I’m helping you!”

“Ok, ok, fine, sorry, keep going,” Percy raised his hands in surrender and quietened.

“Odin had a bunch of kids, but his youngest was a daughter. She was his most precious child, a goddess of love and war. Her name was Y/n.” Hades sighed wistfully as he thought of you, lovely and sweet you entering the throne room in Grecian garb, a hopeful and innocent little smile on your face, gazing in wonder at this new world that had been unlocked for you. You were such a curious little goddess. “And Poseidon instantly fell in love with her.”

Percy raised his eyebrows, his limbs loosening as he became enraptured in the story.

“Poseidon was… mad for her. Any past flings with Nereids or humans were completely forgotten at the sight of her. He was enamoured. Even after the Norse gods left that day, he would go meet with her somewhere in the world. He spent so much of his time with her… They had a bond like no other. A love like no other. If it was even a fraction of the love between Persephone and I… well, you get the gist. They were crazy about each other.

“One day, Hermes had invited her back to watch a performance by the muses. She and Hermes had become friends, but between you and me, I think he was kind of into her. Anyway, she was on Mount Olympus when Zeus’s lightning bolt was stolen. Ares accused her of stealing the bolt, and she was banished and thrown off the mountain.”

“Wait. Are you saying… are you saying my mother stole the lightning bolt?!”

“Well, that’s what Zeus claimed. Personally, not a fan of that theory. It was too convenient, and having known her, she would never bother with something like that. She had no interest in petty squabbles for power.

Anyway, Zeus threw her off Olympus and threatened to attack the Norse gods with all his power if the lightning bolt wasn’t returned to him. It was like, almost two days later or something that Hermes found the bolt. Back then Zeus was a little careless with his power, it was highly possible he probably just forgot the bolt somewhere on one of his little trips down from Olympus. But the damage was done. All peace had been broken and war was threatened once more. In the nick of time, Odin came to Zeus and brokered another peace, but this time both kings vowed there would never be contact between either of their worlds ever again. The Aesir would stay where they were, the gods in Olympus, and everyone would be better off for it.

But of course, Poseidon was raging. He was barred from seeing his one true love. He raged, he almost started a war with Zeus over it. He even isolated himself to the seas for a long time, refused to come up to Olympus, even when Zeus ordered him to. Slowly, as time passed though, he mellowed out a little, started coming back to Olympus. It wasn’t like him, to just let go of his anger, even if it was after a long time. I just assumed he found a way to see Y/n again, broke the rules here and there to spend time with her. Who wouldn’t?

And then, about twelve years ago, it was like his anger had returned somewhat. He withdrew a little, came up to Olympus only when he had to, but mostly stuck to the seas. Funny how that coincides with the time you came into existence, isn’t it?” Hades raised an eyebrow, looking at Percy like he was waiting for him to get the message.

“It makes sense that you’re her son. Poseidon hasn’t ever taken another lover since the banishment. No secret little forbidden children, nothing. It would make a lot of sense then, that she would be your mother, Percy. And it would make a lot of sense then, why they hid you as a demigod.”

“What… wait, do you mean I’m… not a demigod?” Percy swallowed, staring at Hades with a frown.

“Do I need to say it slowly? Your mother is a goddess. Your father is a god. What would that make you?” Hades asked, exasperated as he gestured at Percy.

“Are.. are you saying that I’m a god?!” Percy exclaimed, pointing at himself.

“Bingo! Finally! Yes, Percy, you’re a god.”

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord, @turtleshavesoulmates, @wolfgirl294, @stanswifties, @mrsinclaire, @homanoid, @bellamysnatblida, @mooncleaver @butterfly-skinnylegend @marvellover98, @kakorrhaphiphobia

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blossomthepinkbunny · 1 month ago

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Sexism in HB (and HH)

I feel like I have mentioned some of the underlying misogyny present in HB before, but I never just fully talked about it, so I wanted to make this post where I talk about the sexism issue in Helluva Boss (Hazbin will also be addressed, mostly Helluva Boss though). This is a topic very close to me and I haven't seen a post that just wraps up all of the points in one Text, so that's what this is.

Little disclaimer, I know that the main creative individual behind these shows, Vivzepop is a woman. That's why a lot of people will diminish points made about sexist writing. But Viv being a woman does not mean that she is incapable of having misogynistic views. And I do not want to call her sexist directly, but it is important to realise, that how these shows (especially HB) write female characters can be quite sexist in multiple ways.

Since I like to keep things structured, here are the main things I realised about how female characters are written, which makes me call this show sexist with its writing.

Excluding female characters from victimhood

Sidelining female characters for male ones

Women for mens development/absence of mothers

Stereotyping women

-Rival for (male) attention

-Crazy Ex

-Rude bitch (+ rude bitch who gets in the way of a gay relationship)

-Caretaker/Mother

A lot of these topics will overlap in some way, I'll try to keep them concise and make the differences clear.

1. Excluding female characters from victimhood

There is a big focus on men who have gone through some sort of trauma in both shows. Blitzø, Moxxie, Stolas, Fizzarolli, Angel Dust and Husker. All of them are victims of some form of abuse (sexual, physical, domestic, psychological etc.). The ones I want to focus on now are Blitzø, Stolas, Fizzarolli and Angel. Because all of them are victims of abuse that is most commonly associated with and most commonly happens to women. Blitzø has to sleep with a wealthy man in power who holds something he needs to live over his head in exchange for sexual favours. Stolas was forcefully married at a young age and had to produce an heir for the family, while also facing domestic abuse from his partner. Fizzarolli experienced exploitation of his body through his job as a performer. Angel is a sex worker who get's raped by his pimp and generally is forced to do sexual things he does not want to do.

While of course, all of these scenarios can and do happen to men and it is important to acknowledge that, one cannot deny that these are issues that women are much more likely to experience. My problem isn't that these issues are portrayed through men, but rather how the women in HB/HH barely get acknowledged as victims.

Stolas and Stella are probably the best (or worst) example of that. They both have the same backstory with abuse I mentioned before, just with the bonus that Stella, as a woman would be more likely to experience not only a forced marriage and pregnancy but also the domestic violence they pushed on her later in the series. Fact of the matter is, that Stella and Stolas' relationship had no implications of domestic violence before the writers wanted to stop making people sympathize with Stella. A victim of the same trauma as Stolas, who got pushed as a maniac and psycho. All to redeem a man who sexually abused a lower class citizen while cheating on his spouse. There is also the fact that Stella faces very overt sexual harassment through her brother, which the show just doesn't acknowledge because it hates her. Stella is a bad victim (or not a victim at all) because she is angry and loud (and later on randomly an abuser), while Stolas is the good victim because he is sad and quiet.

Fizzarolli's story shows similarities, though not as extreme. The characters of Glitz and Glam are treated with no sympathy or anything, because they are mean to the male character. The idea that they are in a similar position to Fizzarolli (who fell victim to Mammon's exploitation through being a fan of his) is never acknowledged. We see the girls and they are immediately rude and bitchy. No one bats an eye to the fact that them facing the same exploitation as Fizz isn't good or deserved, because they are mean and probably chose that life. A statement which just reeks of misogyny, especially when one realizes, that the people mainly affected by sexualisation in the performing industry are women. Again, the women don't get sympathy because they are rude and promiscuous. Fizz deserves all the sympathy because he is hurt and 'actually' feels objectified.

In both of these scenarios, women are excluded from being victims in situations they are very likely to face, because they needed more sympathy for the male characters.

Blitzø's story doesn't have a situation like that, luckily. His story is mostly brought down because of the fetishization of gay men or mlm relationships. Since this is not the focus of this post all I'll say is, that if Blitzø was a woman, wayyy less people would be shipping Stolitz. I'll leave it at that.

Where we can once again find something similar is in Angel Dusts story, though to a lesser extent. Seeing as Angel struggles with sexual assault, I find it odd that they specifically chose Husker to console him and help him through his trauma. It is still a thing that most sexual violence or assault victims are women. I feel like no one ever considered how terrifying hell as a lawless place where pretty much everyone lives together is specifically for women. It seems like they want us to expect that every female character down there is like a badass murderer, who can easily avoid creeps and predators. But the show also makes a point to say, that the people in hell are often judged unfairly and that the system is "corrupt". So it's very likely that a majority of the women down there are simply just people who didn't believe in god or who made one mistake that doesn't deserve eternal damnation. With that perspective, a world without laws where no one cares about crime, murder, assault and rape is very terrifying. Seeing as so many crimes in hell would just be rape (which I know happens to men too). So we can easily assume that every female character has faced sexual harassment atleast once, if not to an even larger extent. Charlie I can see being excluded from that, as she is quite sheltered. And Mimzy too, seeing as she isn't played as a person who would realistically be able to add to the conversation (she is pretty much the brutal psycho murderer I mentioned earlier and she is treated mostly as if that stuff just doesn't affect her, which is weird in it's own right).

But then there is Valeria, who we know experienced at least sexual harassment from Adam while being an exorcist. And Cherry Bomb, who we can assume the same of, seeing as she was a woman on earth and a woman in hell, where sexual assaults should lurk around every corner. None of them get to have a discussion with Angel about his situation though. They are seemingly not important to a conversation about rape, which every girl hears at some point in their life. The actual nuance that could be there, having a conversation between two victims is eradicated through Husker being the one to talk Angel down. Husker, who has no common ground with Angel when it comes to this topic and who does not seem closer to him than Valeria and especially shouldn't be closer to him than Cherry Bomb in the end. Cherry, Angels actual best friend is shown to not know what Angel needs, coming off at best as simply out of touch and at worst, as directly malicious. Husker knows exactly how Angel needs to act now even though he, once again, doesn't know him nearly as well and isn't at all in touch with what he's going through. So not only are the female characters excluded from a meaningful moment, which could show the very tragic reality of something most women go through, but Cherry is also sidelined heavily as Angels best friend, to make room for a male character. Which leads into my second point.

2. Sidelining female characters for male ones

I think this is pretty self-explanatory. In Helluva Boss specifically, the female characters do not stand out and mostly do not get story focus quite like the male ones do. Millie and Loona are very egregious in that regard, seeing as they are part of the main group, but don't have nearly as much development as Moxxie or Blitzø and even Stolas (I will talk about that more later on). In Hazbin Hotel this is done a bit better, since Charlie is the main character and Valerie as well as some other background characters get focus too. That is not me saying that they have good characterisations, especially Charlie as the main character is very underdeveloped.

Who I mostly want to talk about here are Stella and Cherry Bomb though. Because while it is bad with the other female characters already, with them it is probably the worst. Because at least Loonas and Millies lack of screentime makes room for already established relationships and main characters.

Stella got basically replaced as a villain by her brother. That is so laughable because it simply is: female character with actual urgency, connection to the main plot, established goals and a personality is replaced by a male character that has none of that, just because. I don't think I need to elaborate on that. This change also just came with making Stella stupid as hell and just loud and obnoxious, something her brother is too, just to a lesser extent (so the change didn't even add a more likeable character in Stella's place).

Cherry got shoved to the side as Angels best friend and main confidante for Husker to develop their relationship, something that was purely fanservice and doesn't make a whole lot of sense in the general context of how these characters interact. Cherry doesn't know what Angel needs to be better, her attempt is misguided. So it is on Husk to actually understand what he needs, even though he should have no idea of that, since he isn't nearly as close with Angel as Cherry is. Cherry comes off incredibly misguided. Her relationship with Angel, which was always assumed to be very close is also not a thing in the show. They have very little interactions and in the ones they do have, Cherry doesn't know what Angel needs and Husk does a better job like I mentioned. Most of the other scenes Cherry shows up in are used to develop the ship of Cherrysnake. So bland and just badly done, that it is weird more than it is cute or romantic. So Cherry having an actual important connection to the main cast was replaced for Huskerdust and she was pushed even further aside to make Cherrysnake happen. A female character being mainly used to serve the male storylines leads to my next point.

3. Women for mens development/absence of mothers

Starting with the female characters that are mostly used for the development of male characters, rather than being treated as their own person. Cherry, as mentioned previously used as a way for Husker to get closer to Angel and also as a woman for Sir pentious to swoon over. She initially turns him down, but then realizes he is actually soo brave and amazing and strong, because female character who just doesn't want to be in a relationship with a male character? That doesn't happen.

Next up is Millie, who has the most unused potential in either shows in my opinion. She is often just reduced to being Moxxies wife. She helps him by practically acting as a caretaker in many ways (more on that later), helps Blitzø to rekindle his relationship with him, but rarely faces struggles that aren't somehow connected to Moxxie or made about how Moxxie feels. I know people want to point to the short she got with Sally Mae, but that was the only real time we got her personal struggles laid out. And it only got brought up and resolved in the same episode, which was also a short, so legit like 2 Minutes. And in "Unhappy campers" they just introduced a character trait she never was shown having before and in the end still made the episode mostly about Moxxie.

Loona was there as a vessel for Blitzø to express love as he felt he could only express genuine emotion towards his daughter. But now that Blitzø is with Stolas and their relationship is flourishing apparently, she doesn't have that going for her anymore. She is also physically abusive, which they have never acknowledged and probably decided to stop playing as a joke, since people got understandably upset. And the other thing that is reoccurring with her character is her crush on Tex and basically any other guy that would give her attention. That's not necessarily bad, but she has nothing except her special relationship with Blitzø (which like I said is pretty unimportant now) and her love problem, which was only focused on guys so far.

Barbie Wire is barely present and we know almost nothing about her. The one episode she shows up in mainly uses her appearance and her upset at Blitzø as a reason for us to feel bad for him. We do not get to know further why she is upset and made the choice to permanently move away. That's not of interest, only how Blitzø feels about it.

Octavia is actually a character I like a lot, but even then she is mostly used for us to feel bad for Stolas. She isn't as bad as some other examples, but depending on who you ask she is either a well written depiction of a child facing neglect and a broken family, who is right in her actions. Or a cruel bitch who doesn't understand how hard her father tries his best. I still think the way she is utilised is mostly leading to her being just a tool for Stolas to face some repercussions while also making him more sympathetic to some people.

In a similar way that Stella and Verosika are just the mean exes, that eventually lead to Stolas and Blitzø getting together to heal from their trauma (I'm aware that Verosika did not cause trauma to Blitzø specifically, he mostly mistreated her from all we know. She is still used in the narrative as something representing a past that Blitzø wants to leave behind for good).

Now onto the mothers in the room, or rather the lack thereof. Mothers in HB are used similarly to the other female characters as male development helpers, despite not even being present really. Blitzø and Moxxie have the "bad father, nice mom that's dead" combo. We don't have any more information on their mothers other than that they were the good counterpart to the evil dad's. They serve as nothing but plot for Blitzø and Moxxie to feel sad about. Stolas doesn't have a mom, just an out of touch dad. Millie has both parents actually, but they don't really get focus, because Millie doesn't get focus. The only thing we know about them is that her dad doesn't like Moxxie and her mom is slightly nicer I guess. And then there's Octavia, who might as well not have a mom at all, since her and Stella's relationship only barely exists. Stella is of course a bad mother, because that woman just can't do anything right. But even then, we never get an idea of how their interactions were when in Octavia's eyes "everything was still alright" in the family. Stella doesn't get to have a special relationship with Octavia, because nuance doesn't exist for her and she needs to be manipulative and obnoxious to everyone apparently.

4.Stereotyping women

These are just some stereotypes that female characters often fall into.

-Rival for (male) attention

This is mainly for Loona, but in general the female characters in HB/HH tend to not have friendships with other women. The only example I can really think of are Millie and Sally Mae, but they are sisters so it's kinda expected and Charlie and Emily, but they barely interact and even then, a point could be made about what I'm going to point out. Loona and Octavia don't really count, they hung out once and then never again (sadly).

The moment Loona is introduced to Beelzebub she immediately dislikes her. Just because the guy she had a crush on is dating her. This just the stereotype that women will always compete for men against each other, as if they have no other objective. I get that it makes sense for Loonas character, but I've said it before and I'll say it again, Loona desperately needs friends her age for her development. And I won't count the two hellhounds that showed up at the end of "Sinsmas", they are not even named and we do not have a reason to assume they are especially close with Loona when we have barely seen them before.

Also when Emily and Charlie first meet and get along well we can see Valeria being visibly upset. As if Charlie becoming friends with another woman is going to end up on her leaving Valeria or something. So another unnecessary rivalry between female characters, because they pose a threat to/ruin the possibility of a romantic relationship.

-Crazy Ex

Verosika and Stella. They are shown as overreacting (Stella hiring a hit on Stolas, Verosika throwing a whole hate party for Blitzø) and bitchy, mean and obsessive over a past relationship. Their behaviour is used to justify the behaviour of the male characters, while ignoring what they went through. Stella is pushed to the extreme of having her be a domestic abuser in the end, just so people can excuse Stolas cheating on her.

Verosika throwing that party is completely overreacting and is treated as weird and crazy (which it is), ignoring that Blitzø ended their genuine relationship by stealing money from her. That is also used to show Stolas as the "reasonable ex" because "he would never do something like that".

The lady from the latest episode also kinda counts into this. She isn't a real character, but she pretty much plays the same role of "see how terrible, obnoxious and even homophobic she is?!". So that it's excusable for a man to cheat on her to achieve happiness.

-Rude bitch (+ rude bitch who gets in the way of a gay relationship)

Rude bitch is pretty much every female character that is in some way mean to the male characters. Verosika, Barbie Wire, Stella, Glitz and Glam, Octavia (in some eyes). They come off as irrational and their rudeness, which is written like that intentionally, is used to excuse how the male characters treat them.

The special category of "rude bitch who gets in the way of a gay relationship" goes to (of course) Stella, thorn lady from Sinsmas and Octavia somehow. I don't think I need to elaborate on Stella, they made her an abuser so that people wouldn't dislike the gay relationship that came out of her getting cheated on (that is also just a terrible relationship).

The thorn lady is presented as blatantly homophobic, so that it's actually good she got cheated on and the gay couple can finally be happy with their children.

And Octavia, or how some fans of the show call her "Cockblocktavia" (which is just terrible for a teenage girl who just wants to feel close to her dad), who is mostly used for Stolas to feel kinda bad about being with Blitzø, without actually doing anything about it in the end.

-Caretaker/Mother

Millie fits here. The M&M relationship baits you with a Malewife x Girlboss sort of relationship. Which implies that the male counterpart (Moxxie) would take over a more traditionally female role. Being the caretaker of the other emotionally, while the wife takes care of finances and everything else. But even then in most instances it's Millie who takes care of not only Moxxie, but also Blitzø. Like the responsibility lies with her to be a caring type, to build up her husband when he is sad and get the group drinks, without getting one for herself. That's a role that she even passes to the only other female main character. When she goes out with Blitzø in "Ghostfuckers" and tells Loona to basically look after Moxxie, as if he's some child that needs to be constantly cared for. Even though Loona is younger than him.

But of course that isn't the end of Millie being mothered by the show. Because how could I forget that she is pregnant now. How amazing that the female character we have been continually promised to get more character development, that isn't just being an extension of her husband, get's that in the form of a pregnancy. Wow.

I'm not the only one who hates this, for obvious reasons. It was just never in Millies character that she would want a baby. I hope they make her get an abortion. That could be used to be educational on a serious topic and wouldn't crowd the cast up more (because that's not what we need from this show!). In the worst case they'll make her keep the baby for some reason that will most definitely come off as very traditional and potentially conservative. It could also lead to her getting excluded from more action to do baby shenanigans, which would just be depressing at this point.

I haven't mentioned it yet, but her pregnancy is also used to discredit a very genuine and actually important point as just "having pregnancy hormones". Their livelihoods depend on killing people, if Blitzø just suddenly decides not to, because the people just so happen to live his dream life, that's his problem. I think it's so terrible to shove off her very real concern as just her being irrational because of pregnancy. And honestly, I see Millie and Moxxie having children down the line, but the reveal now, when so many people have been waiting for meaningful Millie screentime that makes her stand out just feels gross.

Now I just want to say that of course one can like the female characters and anybody can have a different opinion/interpretation than me. I just thought this was worth pointing out, because people still like to act as though there is no underlying sexism at all, which is just not true. Except for Striker and Mammon, all of my favourite characters are the female ones, mostly because I just feel like they could've been used so much better. And I enjoy using the base of these shows to make my own version basically, I feel like that is what most people are doing anyway and when you acknowledge that, just going deeper into your own version is super fun.

#vivzepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel critique #media critique #feminist analysis

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shadow-redferne · 4 months ago

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Proship vs Anti Discourse is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

(PT: Proship vs Anti Discourse is Why We Can't Have Nice Things) (Trigger warning: This post discusses multiple sensitive topics, including abuse, bullying, bigotry and suicide. Reader discretion *heavily* advised)

I've finally gotten around to this post and I'll admit I can already smell the hostility. Just some disclaimers: This post isn't me commenting on the morality of certain media or ships, nor is it me commenting on whether or not fiction affects reality. This is only to talk about the damage this kind of discourse has done to fandom. I am going to warn you: This is *not* a post full of kindness. I am not going to be nice. This post is going to be a bit mean. No. Very mean. Sorry about that. So, TL;DR: Both sides have a harassment problem, and neither side wants to address the issues their communities have, leading to fandom becoming an unsafe environment. So uh, I don't think I need to write a witty introduction here. The current state of fandom is rancid. Harassment has become a giant fucking problem lately. So what's the problem? The problem lies in one thing: 'Proship' vs 'Antiship' discourse.

"Shadow, what the fuck do those words mean?" Proship used to mean that you supported all ships, all forms of fiction, and that you were against harassing anyone who was involved in fandom, as well as against censorship. 'Anti', or 'antiship', meant that you were against some forms of fiction and shipping, mainly ones involving minors or incest. Now you might've noticed that I used the phrase "used to" and the word "meant". That's because both terms kinda got new definitions and became buzzwords, with proship turning into a synonym for 'problematic shipper' (the term 'darkship' eventually came around to distinguish the two apart from my understanding, but uh...as you can see it hasn't helped much!). On top of that, people use the word 'proship' as a verb or type of content rather than an actual stance (ie. 'proshipping', 'proship content', 'proship artstyle', you get the idea). However that's not the main point here. Let's cut to the chase now; both sides fucking hate each other; we'll make that clear, with both sides throwing vile accusations towards one another. However, the more I looked into the swamp, the more distrust I gained for both sides. Something was bothering me, but what? I tried to do a survey; two of them in fact, to see which side was more hostile. Unfortunately, neither survey gave me a lot of useful results, considering I got very little responses from the anti side (So uh, thanks for nothing on that end guys. /nm). The written responses did give one common theme: Fandom has a problem. A problem with harassment, bullying, creeps and bigotry. The antis are particularly horrible when it comes to this. I'm going to start this off by saying that I actually used to consider myself an 'anti' due to my discomfort with noncon and incest. And unfortunately, I was pretty fucking hostile to others (although I never sent death threats, fuck anyone who does that shit). I eventually stopped associating with the 'anti' side when I saw how rampant the ableism was- more on that later. 'Antis' have caused severe harm to fandom, and I don't really understand how anyone can deny that. However, I am pretty fucking tired of everyone pretending that the 'proship' side is the good side. I know the 'proship' side isn't going to like hearing this, but it needs to be said: You guys are *just* as guilty as 'antis' when it comes to being toxic. And I'm not saying that because of the pro-incest stuff or the minor/adult pairings. I'm saying that many 'proshippers' are way too comfortable with being creepy towards others, and the community that claims to be 'anti-harassment'... isn't all that anti-harassment! Here are just some of the written responses I got from the survey:

Here's one alibi from an anonymous user who submitted to the @selfship-confession-box account (pls let me know if you dont want to be tagged)

Another anon that was submitted to the @proship-anti-discussion account

Lastly, here's some of the replies and reblogs to a post talking about an 'ex-proshipper' that left the community due to negative experiences (the OP of said post and the 'ex proshipper' in question did eventually apologize to each other, so I'll cut both of them some slack. I'm only showing the responses because holy fuck are they rancid).

So yeah. So much for the 'proship' community being "anti-harassment" and inclusive to SA and grooming survivors. Now, to the 'anti' side. I will say, the 'proshippers' got one thing right, and that's the fact that 'antis' very much fucking suck. And remember when I said that 'proshippers' were hypocrites? Well, 'antis' are also that. They talk so much about protecting "sa survivors" and how "proshippers are bigoted". But what do the written responses say about this?

and let's not forget *this*

I also want to bring up this comment about the term 'proship artstyle' that I thought was worth mentioning:

In other words... 'antis' aren't as great to hang around either! Now, there's one particular issue I really want to zero in on, and that's the rampant ableism from both sides. As one of the above written responses say, there is a huge problem of 'antis' and 'proshippers' misusing words like 'psychotic' and 'delusional'. The r-slur is also pretty rampant, I've noticed.

Still don't believe me? Okay. Here's a more recent example from an anonymous 'anti' I came across (ironically enough this came up when I searched "proship ableism". Also. fatphobia too? pick a struggle anon)

And that's not even getting into the amount of 'antis' who weaponize the saying "seek help" or "go to therapy". Now, let's go back to the terms supposed original meanings, particuarly the meaning for 'proshipper'. That term was supposed to mean that you were against censorship and harassing people for fiction and ships, and that you didn't judge people for liking certain ships. Meanwhile, 'antis' were supposedly about wanting to get rid of problematic media that could be harmful to minors and SA survivors. But it's time to be honest: Both sides have lost the plot. How am I supposed to believe either side is "anti-harassment" when neither side knows how to respect boundaries? How am I supposed to believe either side cares about SA survivors when you have both sides constantly speaking over said survivors and also harassing them? How am I supposed to believe either side cares about minors when there's been individuals on both sides, yes, including the so called "antis" that "care so much about protecting children uwu", that were outed as groomers? How am I supposed to believe either side is the good side when you have things like this happening:

The last thing I take issue with? The terms "proship" and "anti" as a whole, as well as every single similar term that's come out of this mess. While I do genuinely believe these terms were probably helpful in the past, it's clear that they're not doing any good whatsoever. Both terms have had their original meanings muddied and twisted to the point where they basically have no meaning at all, and the terms existing have created a massive "us vs them" mentality within fandom. There's also the issue of both sides forcing labels on others. I've seen posts that are all "if you believe x, congrats you're a proshipper!" or "if you believe y, you're an anti!". As well as anyone identifying as 'neutralship' (a label I also used to identify with before I stopped associating with these labels entirely) being called a "closet proshipper" or an "anti in disguise". Personally? If you have to force people to pick a side in order for you to trust them, I don't see why I should trust you. If you have to rely on labels like "proship", "anti", "anti-anti", "anti-harassment", "anti-censorship" to come across as a safe person or a good person, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to see you as a good person. You might be wondering why I included the "anti-harassment" and "anti-censorship" labels in that. Well, I'm going to be honest, and you are welcome to disagree with me on this, but I feel like these terms are so fucking unnecessary. Being "anti-harassment" and "anti-censorship" is the BARE FUCKING MINIMUM, a bare minimum that neither side can truly follow. Also, calling yourself "anti-harassment" doesn't automatically make me believe that. Especially when it's been proven time and time again that 'proshippers', the side believed to be 'anti-harassment', isn't all that 'anti-harassment' at all! Now I know what you're thinking at this point; you're thinking that I condone harassment because I'm going after both sides. You're thinking that I don't give a damn about the death threats that 'antis' have sent. No. No. No. That is not what I'm saying. And honestly, if *that's* the message you're getting, I don't know what to tell you.

So no, I'm not saying harassment is good or okay (and if that's the message you got from reading the above... I genuinely do not know what to tell you). I'm saying that you don't deserve a medal or a cookie for not sending death threats or being against people who send death threats, when it's literally the BARE MINIMUM. The bar is in fucking hell at this point. And as it's been shown, neither "proshippers" nor "antis" are truly anti-harassment. Me not liking 'proshippers' doesn't automatically mean I'm okay with sending them death threats, and me not liking 'antis' doesn't make me okay with abuse. And it sure as fucking hell doesn't mean that I don't care either. Because guess what? I do fucking care. It's why I'm fucking making this post in the first place. I shouldn't have to identify as "proship" or "anti" or any other labels to tell you that I care. Me refusing to use a label doesn't mean I'm apathetic to all the harm that's happened. And I sure as hell am not condoning harassment by refusing to hold hands with individuals who can't even bother to respect each other's boundaries. And honestly? If you interpret "I don't support proshippers *or* antis because they both made fandom toxic and unsafe" as "I condone sending death threats and rape threats", that's kind of on you. Here's a simple message I have for anyone who calls themselves "proship" or "antiship", and I am going to be especially mean here: Stop pretending to brand yourselves as the good guys when all you've done is break boundaries, talk over abuse survivors and marginalized groups. Stop being hypocrites, and actually address the issues within your goddamn communities. And stop downplaying said issues by saying "BUT THIS SIDE IS WORSE!" or "BUT THEY DO IT TOO!". Also, stop forcing people to use your dumb labels. Literally all of this could be fucking solved with using the block buttons or report buttons. There is no reason for this stupid fucking infighting. You don't have to like each other, fuck no, but quit dragging those who aren't involved into your messes and ruining fandom for everyone.

To "antis": Quit pretending to care about SA survivors and minors when you're the ones sending them death threats (And maybe address the fucking groomers within your community too, by the fucking way). To "proshippers": Stop being a dick to people who have had negative experiences with your community, stop ignoring the bigotry and stop letting in predators within your community. Now lastly, I know I said I wasn't going to comment on stances, but I do want to say this because it's also very much fucking bothering me. I hate how this discourse just boils down to either "Fiction DOESN'T affect reality at all, it's 100% okay to support ANY kind of media/ship/pairing no matter how problematic it is, and if you disagree with that you're a fascist!" or "Actually supporting ANY kind of media that's problematic and/or depicts so and so is BAD and if you support that you're a horrible human being! And if you disagree with me you're just as bad!" Have you guys perhaps, I don't know: Considered a fucking middle ground? Have you maybe considered nuanced discussions? How about that? Okay, I'm done being mean. In fact, I actually don't have much else to say so here's a video that talks about it a little more nicer than I do

*Sigh* I'm going to regret posting this, aren't I?

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pearlescynt · 9 months ago

Text

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader

{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy

{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?

{ WC } - 7.7k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.

{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz. DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY. This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?

Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk.

You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself.

That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there.

You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included.

You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat!

Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them.

You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi.

There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.

Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety.

You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home.

Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.

You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point.

The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.

You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye.

In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric.

Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before.

Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous.

But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.

You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists.

You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures.

You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest.

So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out.

Nothing.

You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth.

They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin.

You really should start carrying gloves with you.

You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next.

If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.

You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment.

You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you.

Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.

You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours.

He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles.

He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too.

He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements.

Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips.

He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real.

But it was.

You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on.

You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully.

You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running.

Though you weren't so sure you would run.

Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms.

The mushrooms.

That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears.

His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.

Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago.

'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly.

His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes.

He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."

He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt.

He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground.

You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth.

"Who are you?" You ask curiously.

"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."

A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared.

"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm."

You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong.

You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues.

"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures.

"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.

At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.

"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too."

As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you.

"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.

He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it.

You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though.

Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening.

"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"

He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.

"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment."

"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.

Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing.

Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you.

"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children."

French? This being was a riddle.

"I don't understand." You force out.

He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings."

He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin.

"The truth?" You ask.

He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose.

He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing."

The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense.

His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again.

"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"

You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch.

"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble.

He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."

You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.

He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours.

He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access.

"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more."

You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue.

His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch.

He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.

His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.

His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt.

You hissed before whining, begging "Please."

"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.

It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up.

He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it.

"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this."

He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.

"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you.

Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand.

His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped.

You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing.

It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.

All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek.

You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.

"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head."

When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it.

And fuck.

You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate.

He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him.

His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly.

"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile.

There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you.

Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace.

Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing.

He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground.

He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan.

This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry.

You were crying, you realized.

"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Yes!" You sob.

He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet.

"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.

His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good.

"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?"

You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you.

At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.

He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure.

"So tight." He grunted.

You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you.

It was becoming overwhelming.

You still didn't want it to stop.

"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.

So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan.

Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze.

He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard.

His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet."

You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements.

"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"

"Yes." You breathed.

"I can fix that."

You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty.

He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.

His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now.

He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud.

The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him.

You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.

You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch.

It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements.

He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.

He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead.

Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away.

He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core.

"So pretty, even here darling."

You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs.

"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove."

And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more.

Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing.

He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.

You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.

He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously.

You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head.

You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips.

"Fuck..." He whispered.

"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.

You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you.

You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop.

He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis.

"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned.

He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat.

He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you.

That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name.

"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.

"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.

"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.

He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point.

The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through.

Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.

When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion.

The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to.

Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.

Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest.

That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.

"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.

He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house.

He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.

"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly.

"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches.

You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore.

"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up.

He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink.

You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were.

"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more."

"More?" You questioned him.

"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.

"How did you even know where I live?"

"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles."

You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true.

Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.

"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair.

It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night.

You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions.

You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?

"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.

"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all."

Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.

"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all."

You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.

You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him?

When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say.

You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent.

How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?

"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought.

"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble.

You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore.

You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.

"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew."

You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.

"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water.

"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."

"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed.

"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."

At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest.

"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-"

"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off.

"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech.

"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to."

"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"

"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."

You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.

"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."

There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.

"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions.

"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms."

You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it.

Craved it.

You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent.

He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."

He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.

"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.

"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."

Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"

The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap.

His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?"

"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all.

"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all.

Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.

It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond.

So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck.

"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is."

His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.

You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv

@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu

@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd

@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties

@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @irrevocable-exposure

But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

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venussaidso · 1 year ago

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Ketu Dominant Themes — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 1) 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

disclaimer: spoilers for all movies or shows mentioned.

the warnings: mentions of drug abuse, sexual violence, self-harm, genocide, mental disorders/illnesses, cannibalism and self amputation.

The most interesting theme within all the Ketu nakshatras is one that is unexpected, as Ketu is commonly associated with concepts of disconnection or isolation from society as a whole — given its frequent link to the 12th house. However, it is more about the interactions with the unseen forces within society than anything else. The 12th house also represents the collective consciousness and all the interconnected energies that come with it, which we all become deeply influenced by. Ashwini is the most sensitive Ketu nakshatra, as it is easily consumes and absorbs by these 12th house energies through the native, often leading to chaos and loneliness.

Ashwini Nakshatra embodies nothingness, the oldest energy in the universe. It exists in the space before actualized creation and after the rise of awareness that emerges from nothingness (or the cosmic void). It is very fitting that this is the first nakshatra, but it should also be considered the last Ketu nakshatra. The focus here is on the spirit's evolution. The energy found in this nakshatra is as undeveloped as it is chaotic, which is why evolution needs to take place — and this usually involves extremely harsh forces to tame it. In Ashwini, there is confusion or a lack of self-awareness regarding one's own identity. I am going to use some films as examples to explore this point.

First, I'll use the most typical Ketu-coded character; Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. This film follows an investment banker who revels in the wealthy excesses of his superficial lifestyle, surrounded by others who do the same. His life is empty, mostly revolving around getting into exclusive restaurants, indulging in designer suits, and maintaining a meticulous morning routine. There is a general pressure to conform, and the Ashwini native is highly sensitive to these societal energies, which they absorb — driving them to compete and, eventually, to go too far. For Patrick Bateman, it’s no longer about conformity; it becomes an obsession, and these pressures push him into homicidal tendencies as an outlet. This film perfectly encapsulates modern-day consumerism, and it is, of course, an Ashwini native who descends into madness as a result of the empty, superficial yuppie culture he is subjected to.

Nothing can fill the emptiness inside him, and he knows it. This crippling, painful awareness continuously fuels his violent self-hatred and his hatred toward others. This is why he remains trapped in a cycle of loneliness, surrounded by the same narcissistic, self-absorbed individuals who perpetuate this soulless culture.

The movie was adapted from the book with the same name, written by Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis whose own experiences inspired the book "American Psycho".

Quote from an interview; OregonLive (2010);

"[Patrick Bateman] did not come out of me sitting down and wanting to write a grand sweeping indictment of yuppie culture. It initiated because my own isolation and alienation at a point in my life. I was living like Patrick Bateman. I was slipping into a consumerist kind of void that was supposed to give me confidence and make me feel good about myself but just made me feel worse and worse and worse about myself. That is where the tension of 'American Psycho' came from... It came from a much more personal place."

-- Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis

Now, onto the movie "Fight Club", which was directed by Magha Sun David Fincher, and stars Magha Sun Edward Norton and Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

The most highlighted character from this film, played by Brad Pitt, is Tyler Durden, who plans on making a revolution to destroy the hyper-capitalistic, materialistic superficial culture that we saw destroy Patrick Bateman from the inside in "American Psycho".

(video - 🎧)

Of course, just like Ashwini Moon Patrick Bateman took his obsessive consumerism too far; Mula Sun Tyler Durden lays on the opposite spectrum, aiming to destroy modern society by blowing up all credit card companies and ruining the world's economy. Mula is related to destruction as it is ruled by Nirriti, the goddess of destruction. The oppressive forces that weigh on this Mula character, Tyler Durden, causes him into a spiral for freedom (9H), using extremities and acts of terrorism to be rid of ego/society. Whereas Ashwini, having no solid identity and just being undeveloped in nature, is more likely to conform; but so long as Ketu is there, there will always be an emptiness in the ambitious pursuit of things. Ashwini can grant excess wealth and fame, but with no inner fulfillment or balance, you see characters like Patrick Bateman. Or Daniel Plainview from "There Will Be Blood".

A movie directed by Paul Thomas Anderson who has Ketu in Magha, and stars Ashwini Moon, Mula Ascendant Daniel Day Lewis who portrays Daniel Plainview. Plainview is more Ashwini, as he is an extremely ambitious, capitalistic and competitive oilman.

His pursuit for wealth and power leads him to personal loneliness, isolation and emptiness, we see how Ketuvians become so drained by the energies they absorb in the pursuit of things. Similarly to Patrick Bateman, he not only hates others but himself as well and wishes for no one to succeed in life.

His primal competitiveness and self-loathing even drive away his only family, his only child. His adult son means to do his own oilrig business and cuts his partnership with him. But Plainview's unchecked ambition shows that even after attaining success and power, he literally goes ahead to disown his own son as he considers him competition now. And now he extends the same hatred he has for others to him. Further isolating himself; this validating his deep sense of loneliness that was always there with his self-loathing.

The film ends in an Ashwini fashion; in which Plainview goes into a psychotic meltdown and murders someone who he has had a long stewing hatred for.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

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I wanted to provide a brilliant video from the YouTuber "The Vile Eye", who explored the dark nature of this character; because it perfectly illustrates Ashwini nakshatra in a twisted way, especially in how Aries in this segment is influenced by Ketu forces. Everything about this character is every Aries stereotype you can think of from the top of your head, but Ketu exaggerates it to the point of extremity and tragedy.

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Amazing video for anyone who wants to understand Ashwini at its extreme which can manifest in real life of course.

The series "Peaky Blinders" stars Ashwini Moon Cillian Murphy whose character faces moral dilemmas, as his relentless pursuit of power contributes to his moral ambiguity.

His ruthless ambition to become the most powerful in the criminal underworld is something I couldn't help but relate it back to Ashwini's drive & competitiveness.

The movie "Scarface" stars Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays Tony Montana. And fun fact, Tony Montana is loosely based and inspired by the real-life figure, Al Capone, who had Ashwini Moon, according to astrotheme — although take with a grain of salt as it conflicts with other data.

Both Tony Montana and Al Capone had unchecked ambitions and an unrelenting desire for power. In Ashwini, extreme power can be attained, and we saw how Tony Montana quickly rose to it (as Ashwini is the Star of Transport and it is associated with Shidhra Vyapani Shakti which translates to 'The Power to Quickly Reach Things'). Similarly, Al Capone was also driven by the desire for power, and he attained it.

Like Daniel Plainview in "There Will Be Blood", Tony Montana starts to experience isolation after all of his achievements. His chaotic behaviour contributes to his alienation, and he starts to feel intensifying loneliness, which seems to be a theme with this nakshatra. And this film also ends in Ashwini fashion; with absolute chaos, the psychotic unraveling of Tony and of course death.

I wanted to also add in the movie "Nightcrawler" which stars Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal who plays a character willing to go to the extreme lengths for success and personal achievement, to the point of exploiting others, unconcerned with ethical boundaries.

He has a distorted view of success and has an unchecked, ruthless ambition. He is also a socially isolated character, behaving inappropriately as he is disconnected from social norms. In his obsessive & relentless pursuit of success, he is devoid of humanity. Had to mention this film because these themes are not exclusive to Ashwini.

But as I did mention, Mula natives are more likely to be aware of societal pressures and these natives often feel deeply disturbed by them. In the film "Falling Down", Mula Moon Michael Douglas plays a character who has become disillusioned and is now aware of the pressures and oppression caused by the modern-day life. This movie is literally directed by Magha Sun Joel Schumacher.

He confronts many issues such as homelessness and crime, which are heavily rooted in the greedy, capitalistic system of modern society. But he becomes violent and chaotic himself, going into a descent to madness (from absorbing the energies felt by the collective who feel the weight of these oppressive forces within society). This movie deals with the consequences of unchecked rage, a theme shared in all Ketu nakshatras.

The film "Taxi Driver", which stars Magha Sun Robert De Niro and is directed by Magha Ascendant Martin Scorsese, depicts a man who suffers from extreme loneliness, alienation from society, and struggles with existential crisis. The film explores social decay; such as social disparities, the disillusionment of our main character to society's ills, crime, poverty etc. He goes into a descent into vigilantism, using violence as a catharsis which is a common thing for these Ketu nakshatras (mainly Magha and Mula as it looks at societal frustrations and the emptiness in life/modern culture).

The character also suffers from a possible case of untreated mental illness, and insomnia — and this seems to be a theme with all Ketu nakshatras in general.

Another film where the main character suffers from extreme insomnia is "The Machinist", starring Ashwini Moon Christian Bale whose character's insomnia and untreated mental illness literally contribute to his isolation and alienation.

And the film "Fight Club", in which Magha Sun Edward Norton plays an insomniac character who has dissociative identity disorder. And his split personality is interestingly played by Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

Then the film "Insomnia", directed by Ketu in Magha Christopher Nolan, starring Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays an insomniac detective who faces some mental challenges.

There is a spiritual belief about insomnia which suggests there may be a disturbance in one's spirit; unresolved issues that have been long reppressed may be linked to an imbalance of energy within the body. This imbalance causes restlessness and mental problems. This idea aligns with Ketu and the 12th house, which deal with the unconscious — particularly deep-rooted traumas and the ways in which they affect us and those around us. It isn’t just about traumas; it can also stem from the repression of internal suffering caused by loneliness or external pressures. We see this with Patrick Bateman, whose only outlet is literal murder, or Tyler Durden's "revolutionary" fight club, which causes more destruction around him as planned. Both characters violently act out from these unaddressed, decaying energies within themselves and within society.

The series "Sharp Objects", directed by Magha Moon Jean-Marc Vallé, mostly deals with family traumas, but also shows how those traumas and unresolved energies literally cause death and chaos around them.

Camille Preaker, played by Magha Sun Amy Adams, is deeply traumatized and troubled. She has a history of self-harm and bears many scars on her body; her self-destructive behaviour is a coping mechanism for the trauma she experienced in her youth (sexual violence by a group of boys and witnessing the slow, preventable death of her sister). Then we have her younger half-sister Amma, played by Magha Moon Eliza Scanlen, who has a hidden dark side shaped by the family’s troubled history and generational trauma. By the end of the series, we discover that Amma is the killer responsible for the violent murders that have shocked the townspeople of Wind Gap. Amma is behind all the gruesome deaths of the girls whose teeth were removed.

While Camille’s coping mechanism involves cutting herself as self-punishment for the guilt she harbours from her sister’s death, Amma literally commits homicidal acts. This reflects just how damaged and complex their trauma is, as well as the toxicity of the community they grew up in. Their mother, played by Mula Moon Patricia Clarkson, has Munchausen syndrome and is responsible for the death of her oldest daughter. Camille witnessed her sister’s suffering and death, viewing her mother as a monster — and now sees her little sister as an extension of her mother.

This series is an excellent example of how unchecked personal trauma can impact others, especially those who are uninvolved. It also shows how much destruction can be caused, as seen with Amma killing other girls as an outlet — similar to Patrick Bateman's. This is why I now realize how wrong I was about Ketu. Ketu is not necessarily about isolating from society. In relation to society, Ketu represents the unaddressed, rotting energies within it, always tying back to individuals’ personal and generational traumas. It makes sense that Magha relates to ancestral roots and the origins of oneself, including the origins of one’s trauma.

Now onto the film "Nocturnal Animals", which is directed by Magha Sun Tom Ford, stars Magha Sun Amy Adams and Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal.

Amy Adams plays Susan, a successful art gallery owner. She receives a manuscript for a novel called Nocturnal Animals sent to her by her ex-husband Edward, played by Jake Gyllenhaal. The book is extremely violent and tragic, but it turns out to be a symbolic reflection of their relationship and marriage, tying into Ketu themes of unresolved trauma and getting to the roots of it. The book forces Susan to confront how much her actions hurt Edward.

The movie focuses on confronting one's past and demonstrates how trauma continues to shape the lives of those involved. It also shows Susan still has unresolved issues, evident in her repulsed reactions to the extreme parts of the novel.

The movies "Split" and "Glass", stars two Ashwini Suns, Anya Taylor Joy and James McAvoy. McAvoy's character, Kevin, has dissociative personality disorder and these different personalities exist to keep him safe. His trauma is so extreme and deeply painful that it manifested into the creation of The Beast, his most dangerous and superhuman personality. Three kidnapped girls are prey to The Beast as they end up being devoured by it but only one survives — and that's Anya Taylor Joy's character, Casey.

The reason why she doesn't fall victim is because she, too, has suffered extreme trauma and her resilience through it is what creates her immediate connection with Kevin. It is when The Beast sees her scars that he calls her pure, implying that those who have been damaged are the ones who are truly evolved.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

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Also, "Split" is another example of how deeply repressed energies and traumas of one can ruin everything around them and victimize those close to the Ketuvians (usually uninvolved people's lives being violently taken; "Split", "Sharp Objects", "American Psycho", "Falling Down" etc.).

Ashwini Moon Zendaya in the series "Euphoria" plays a character, Rue, who has been through a significant amount of trauma, including the passing of her father. She uses self-destructive ways to cope with her deep emotional pain and grief, very similarly to Magha Sun Amy Adams's character in "Sharp Objects". Rue uses drugs to numb herself from her harsh realities. There is a moment in the series in which she has a chaotic meltdown.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

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Something I now understand with Ashwini is how explosive, volatile and scary its ungrounded energy can be — exactly why I'd commonly associate it with hysterical meltdowns which can lead to accidental or unplanned homicidal acts or other forms of harm/self-harm. This scene of Rue is vaguely taking me back to Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's spiraling and meltdowns in "American Psycho".

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

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Ketu, especially with Magha, seems to cause erratic behaviours when its natives aren't purified of their long-accumulated baggage in their unconsciousness — exactly why the 8th house is also ruled by Ketu, as Scorpio shares this particular theme. As long as there is deep disturbance and imbalance in the body, there is no rest for the soul – even for future incarnations to come.

But now, I want to touch on the senseless harshness of Ketu. Remember, this energy embodies the eternal, sucking void. Mula nakshatra relates to the center of the cosmic void and delves straight into its roots. Ashwini has already risen from it, while Mula is centering itself back into it. Mula is where we seek an awakening to the truth behind reality. What lies on the other side of the cosmic void?

Truth is sought in Mula; but it seems in Ashwini nakshatra, it is understood that chaos and nothing is the absolute truth of reality. There is no inherent meaning to anything, which may sound nihilistic, but it is precisely what makes life beautiful.

In the film The Pianist, written and directed by Magha Sun Roman Polanski and starring Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody, the story begins on a warm note with a well-put-together family and a handsome, talented Ashwini man who dreams of being a pianist. However, things take a drastic turn.

We witness a once bright-eyed man transform into a shell of his former self after enduring harrowing events. The events continue to worsen, growing more tragic until there is no longer even a sliver of hope. The majority of the film is filled with despair, senseless cruelty, and the slow annihilation of the protagonist’s soul.

I've never watched a film more Ketuvian than this — surrounded by genocide, death, and complete isolation, consumed by one's own lonely misery. One moment, you think a character might somehow make it out alive because they have the conviction and drive to survive, but the film immediately takes that hope away as they helplessly die. You think the protagonist might finally see some light, and the film even provides brief moments of comfort, but it ultimately shows how everything stays horrific.

There are no answers to any prayers, as suffering is ongoing. This tone creates another layer of entrapment, and you watch as the character resigns himself to letting life do whatever it wants to him, trapped in a world where he is helpless. With Ketu, you come to realize there was never any security at all.

But his survival at the end makes you question why he even went through that to begin with. There was no lesson to be learned. Why did his friends and family die, but not him? In the end, he became the successful pianist he had dreamed of from the beginning. He was exceptionally talented from the start; these events took everything from him except his passion for the piano.

What he went through was senseless, as Ketu has no prime motivation. Saturn will push you through the worst so that you can reach a level where you can attain all of your reaped rewards, but Ketu doesn’t care about what you get in the end – that's also Rahu's objective, as Rahu deals with ego. Ketu deals with the evolution of one's soul, and that usually involves its annihilation.

The film "Society of the Snow" is literally directed by Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona, based on real life events. There's a documentary based on these events as well, "Stranded: I've Come from a Plane That Crashed on the Mountains", directed by Magha Moon Gonzalo Arijon.

Now, in Society of the Snow, there is a tone of hopelessness set in the film because of the gruesome reality these characters (based on real-life people) experience. Never in their lifetime did they think that everything would change so drastically from just living the average life of normal teenage boys — echoing the opening of "The Pianist". These characters, who were part of a rugby team, get on a plane that would soon crash onto a glacier surrounded by endless, cold, harsh mountains — with just a piece of the wrecked plane remaining, which they take shelter in. The protagonists are surrounded by the dead bodies of friends who did not survive the crash, signifying total despair and loss. They couldn’t even sleep; the first night spent with many of them crying and wailing out loud, nearly freezing to death.

A day after, a rescue helicopter searches for them and they all scream out for help. But the helicopter misses them, barely noticeable under all the glacier that surrounds them. This is when the sense of hopelessness starts to intensify as the story progresses. Now that the chances of being rescued remain at zero, they realize they can’t ignore their growing hunger anymore. They all have no choice but to eat the flesh of the dead bodies, after running out of chocolates, and we see how these decisions mentally challenge some of the characters.

It is truly tragic that they were stranded, isolated from the world, and in complete despair every waking day, for a span of 72 days. After being rescued, we see just how malnourished they were from the looks of their bodies. They come back home bone-skinny and depleted. The monologue in the ending scene tells us how the survivors wondered: "Why didn’t we all get to come back [home]?" "What is the meaning of it all?" These were the questions I wondered for the movie "The Pianist".

Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona also made the film "The Impossible", which is about survival and resilience — based on real life events. Much like "Society of the Snow", it also has a sense of complete despair and there is an involuntary separation of a family (which reminds me of "The Pianist" in which Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody's character is also separated from his family in the story).

"Nothing is more powerful than the human spirit", it writes on the poster.

"Nowhere", is directed by Ashwini Moon Albert Pintó. It's a survival thriller about a pregnant woman who finds herself isolated from society as she's drifting in the sea trapped inside a container. Because of her newborn baby, she is forced to survive and protect her child even when there is no hope. The reason she's even in the container is because she was fleeing a society of a dystopian future in which women & children are caged and murdered (her attempt to run away from oppressive, societal forces leads her to total isolation).

And we also have the film "127 Hours", directed by Ashwini Moon Danny Boyle, starring Ashwini Sun James Franco who plays Aron Ralston, whose right arm becomes trapped against the canyon wall when he was on a solo canyoneering trip. When he is unable to release himself, we realize the severity of his situation. He is completely isolated and alone. His own supplies have run out and he's losing his mind. The struggle for survival and one's own helplessness is a theme of Ashwini nakshatra as this drives one into taking extreme measures for freedom — as he resorts to cutting his own arm off.

These themes seem to speak of the power and resilience of the human spirit, as emphasized in "The Impossible" and "Society of the Snow". Our ability to survive even just our own personal traumas must be a testament to our spirit being an extension of the Higher Power which is behind the happenings of all of these senseless yet significant experiences and events we go through.

It is in Ashwini that one's experience through harsh forces contributes to the spirit's evolution after total annihilation, which leads us on the path towards moksha.

Ketu is very pure by nature, and it wants to destroy impurities. The repression of one's accumulated dirt can manifest in destructive tendencies. By facing one's true inner self and embracing your entirety is how you embrace Ketu in general. But one must go deep and inward. All three Ketu nakshatras deal with getting to the roots for this reason.

Ashwini is ruled by the Ashwini Kumaras, gods of medicine and healing, also known as divine physicians. In order to heal, one must get to the root of all disturbances to create the perfect medicine for healing. As Ashwini is ruled by the 1st house, this involves getting to the roots of oneself for self-liberation. Magha, on the other hand, is about tracing your own existence back to the existence of others — usually family members and ancestors. Magha relates to generational trauma and shining light on it in order to become freer.

Mula is symbolized by the roots of a tree, and "mula" translates to "roots." It signifies ancestral roots as well, but primarily the truth. Mula is where disillusionment takes place as one gets directly into the roots of everything, going right into the galactic center — which can also signify going right into the roots of our demons and letting all of that rotting energy burn from your body. After this purification process, one's consciousness raises by default.

Ashwini has strong, undeveloped energies that can be tamed and grounded to be properly channeled. In order to achieve this, one must let go of poisonous impurities so that they are no longer controlled or possessed by unseen forces. It is in Ashwini that we know of the interconnection of the collective consciousness, which was secretly discovered in Uttara Bhadrapada and remembered in Revati. Ashwini nakshatra is extremely sensitive to outward energies, as are the rest of the Ketu nakshatras. Every individual's consciousness is affecting the whole world in some way. This, being a Ketu theme in general, describes the whole energetic field of the world and how we each play a part in it and affect each other's lives.

As all Ketu nakshatras deal with getting into the roots of things, we must get dirty by digging into our own roots. These unconscious triggers, which form our Shadow Self, contribute to how we interact with the world and other people. There is always the capacity to harm or further traumatize others because of our own unchecked, hidden troubles.

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