#husk is a very selfish person who wants what he wants and will push to make it happen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yourtamaki · 4 years ago

Text

history doesn’t repeat, it rhymes

sakusa x gn!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, elements of depersonalization, non-explicit mentions of sex

dedicated to: @onyxoverride (thank you for beta reading) & @saintdabi

you can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection.

it wasn’t deliberate, the way you turned your back to the full length mirror in your closet every morning when you got dressed, how you usually dodged your reflection coming out of the shower like you did just now. at least, not at first. not until you realized how much better you felt now that you didn’t have to come face to face with a stranger everyday. that was the only word to describe whatever lived in the mirror. a stranger. any recognizable part of you had rotted away long ago. all that remained now was an empty husk with dead eyes and a selfish heart. the same selfish heart that set you on this path in the first place.

was it worth it? you wanted to ask your past self. was his love worth what you did to yourself?

the very first night you met sakusa set the tone for the rest of your relationship. you’re still not entirely sure why you accepted your roommate, hinata’s, invitation to his team’s party to celebrate their record win streak. it probably had something to do with the puppy dog eyes he threw you. regardless, you went, wearing an outfit you were losing confidence in by the second and leaning against a wall as far from the drunk crowd as you could get. you never liked parties like this. too many people, too loud. but for your best friend, you were willing to grit your teeth and bare it.

a part of you, larger than you would ever admit, wishes you never looked to your left that day. wishes that you never spotted the curly haired man looking so sullen despite half his face being covered with a mask, that you didn’t notice the way his eyes flickered from his empty red cup to where you knew the kitchen to be, how he wearily eyed the crowd of people that separated him from it.

“i was about to grab a drink. i can bring something back for you if you’d like?” the first thing you ever said to the love of your life was a lie. you were planning on staying tucked in your corner all night, safe from the dancing drunks who had no concept of personal space until hinata was ready to leave. and yet the words were almost ripped out of you the moment your eyes landed on him, a fierce need to help the man flaring up from nowhere. you could only assume he had separated himself from the party for the same reason you had and it pulled on your heartstrings. no one ever noticed when you needed help so why not extend that courtesy to him instead? he blinked at you as though he had to process your offer before he nodded.

“yes, please i’d appreciate it.” his voice was different than you expected it to be. slow and calm despite the way his fist clenched and unclenched. “just water. a closed bottle if you can find it.”

his brows furrowed for a moment when you held out your hand before letting out a quiet ah and handing you his empty cup. it was endearing how he placed it in your hand, balancing it carefully on your palm.

“be right back.” you shot him a smile and started to make your way across the floor, getting pushed and jostled the entire way there. you made quick work of tossing the garbage into the overflowing trash bag and dug out two water bottles from behind a rack of beer cans in the fridge. the trip back was no easier and you breathed a sigh of relief when you were once again in your small private bubble with the man. the discomfort you endured, the skin crawling sensation of all those bodies too close to you was worth the way his eyes lit up when he saw you’d returned.

he accepted the cool bottle with a murmured thanks, pulling his mask down and tucking it under his chin. handsome was your first thought and his name was your second. the two distinct moles on his brow should’ve given it away that you were talking to sakusa kiyoomi. you’d seen enough of hinata’s games, heard enough stories to put a name to the face. he held your stare as you placed him in your mind, taking a sip from the bottle as he did. an urge to say something, anything to keep those eyes on you bubbled up hot and fast and you said the first thing that came to mind.

“my roommate’s your teammate.”

“is he? which one?”

“hinata. shoyo.” you added as though there was another hinata on the msby roster.

“ah. my condolences.” the corner of his lips quirked up when you snorted. “i’ve seen how he leaves a locker room. i don’t want to imagine what his room looks like.”

“it’s not pretty, that’s for sure.” you said, leaning your shoulder against the wall and taking a moment to regard him. “can i ask why you’re here? shoyo told me you don’t like crowds so a party must be hard on you.”

“would you believe me if i said contractual obligations?”

“nope cause i helped shoyo go through his contract and i don’t remember ragers being a part of the deal.” a small burst of pride bloomed in your chest when he laughed, a quick huff from his nose and amused eyes as though he didn’t expect it.

“you got me.” you waited for him to explain and deflated a bit when he remained silent. that is, until you followed where his eyes had wandered. it was easy to spot hinata from across the party. he sat high above the rest of the crowd on bokuto’s shoulders, leaning back occasionally to test bokuto’s reaction time and giggling every time he was caught at the last moment. meian was trying in vain to pull the ginger down while atsumu seemed to be on facetime with someone recording the whole thing, his loud laughter ringing out clearly over the music.

“you’re here for them?” you said just as the realization dawned on you. sakusa twitched, so small you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.

“spending time with your teammates promotes better gameplay on the court.”

“i’m sure it does. but wanting to hang out with your friends isn’t a crime.”

“we are hanging out. i’m here, aren’t i? if they wanted to talk to me, they know where to find me.” the bitterness in his tone wasn’t enough to mask the acceptance behind his words, of being resigned to his fate as the forgotten one.

“well, i found you.” he looked over at you, something unreadable swimming behind his eyes before they softened.

“yeah. you did. you know, you’ve talked a lot about shoyo but i don’t know anything about you. i don’t even know your name.” he said. heat raced to your cheeks, flustered that he seemed to be paying as much attention to you that you were to him.

“i didn’t even notice, sorry.” you said before offering your name. he repeated it back, once, twice, rolling it around on his tongue and you watched his mouth, mesmerized by how it curled around a word you’ve heard your whole life until it sounded new again. he spoke your name in a soft, hushed whisper and you wondered if his lips would feel just as soft. half-lidded, his gaze flickered downwards like he was wondering the same thing.

the rest of the night was a blur in your mind. all you could recall was that you chatted with sakusa until the others found you and you drove a passed-out hinata home with a new contact saved to your phone.

the reminiscing left you drained, clutching your phone in your hands, the screen frozen on that same contact as you collapsed into bed and yet you couldn’t stop the rest of the memories from flooding through your mind, the truth you’ve been holding off for too long. you’ve picked at a festering wound that was best left alone. if you didn’t think too hard about it, if you ignored how it grew and ate away at you, it wouldn’t hurt as much. right? but it was too late. you’ve pulled the string and now you’re left to deal with your own unraveling.

you scrolled through your texts for what feels like a lifetime, the entirety of your relationship flashing by and disappearing in an instant until you could scroll no higher. of course you sent the first text. a formal message that didn’t look anything like how you actually text with one too many exclamation points in your desperation to come across friendly.

your fingers moved across the screen and when your mind caught up, your thumb was hovering over the button to delete the entire conversation. you never wanted to see evidence of who you used to be ever again. you didn’t want to be reminded of the person you cut and broke and killed until they fit into sakusa’s neat life. but sentimentality stilled your hand, the phone dropping from your limp fingers and crashing to the floor. you didn’t bother reaching for it.

the accursed memories refuse to let you be, another bobbing up to the surface from the murky depths and pulling you under before you could stop it. one that showed what little agency you had in your own life.

it started the way it always did. you noticed him. noticed how tired he was every time you spoke. how you went from going out on dates to always staying in to maybe being lucky enough to say good night over the phone before he crashed for the day. and sure, you were lonely. so starved for him it ached. but that was overshadowed by your worry for him. you would lay awake wondering if he’d remember to eat that day, if he had the energy to clean his apartment and if he didn’t, how much was that adding to his stress?

so you swung by his place the next morning after he had left for practice, spent the day cleaning, restocked his fridge and were nearly done making dinner when he returned. his exhaustion was truly hammered home when he walked straight past the kitchen on autopilot before doubling back, tilting his head at you in confusion.

“what are you doing here, darling?”

“helping out.” you turned back to the stove and busied yourself with mindless stirring, afraid that you’d been too eager and overstepped. “you seemed pretty tired these days so i wanted to do something for you but you’re back earlier than i expected so i can just go if you want to be alone just let me-”

your rambling was cut off when a force barrelled into you and sakusa hugged you tight from behind, head buried in the crook of your shoulder. all at once, whatever anxiety had been growing fled you and you relaxed into his touch.

“thank you.” it wasn’t the words that made your heart leap to your throat. it was the sincerity, the slight crack at the end that told you he had more he wanted to say but didn’t know how.

you fell into a routine of going over to his apartment, looking after things, kissing him when he returned and staying over at night. at first, it was once a week. then over the weekend, then every other day.

“you should move in.” even though you half expected your relationship to take this next step, it still took you by surprise the casual way sakusa brought it up. you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to move in with him just yet. you built a home with hinata and that apartment meant everything to you, all your happiest memories were made there and oh no sakusa was still waiting for an answer.

“i should?”

“yeah.”

and that was the end of it. you were packed and out of hinata’s apartment (because it was his now. his and atsumu’s. not yours, it’ll never be yours again) by the end of the month. most of your things didn’t come with you but that was fine, right? so what if you still felt like a guest in your home even to this day with none of yourself being reflected in the apartment? you got to wake up to see the love of your life every day and that made everything worth it.

until you started waking up alone.

extra training, he said. the team drafted new players and he had to get used to their play style, he said. and you believed him, trusted that he’d be home with you if he could. so you took the crushing loneliness and swallowed it down like a bitter pill. you smiled wide when he came home late with only the moon to light your bedroom and let him use your body to rid the stress of the day.

the dead of night was the only time you’d have him all to yourself. you could be greedy for his attention when he was buried inside you. it was easy to pretend you clawed up and down his back because you were caught up in the moment and not because you were desperate to keep him close to you. easy to pretend the tears in your eyes were from pleasure and not from how much you missed his voice.

and when he was empty and spent, you would stroke his hair until he fell asleep and then, only then, would you whisper all the things you couldn’t tell him during the day. small, meaningless anecdotes that you knew would earn you a wry smile if he was awake to hear them, the one he used when he didn’t want to let on how close he was to laughing. the stolen moments were a salve on your fractured heart but it was never enough to heal it. in the end, when you were once again alone in your too-wide bed, it only served to remind you just how deep the cracks were.

maybe that’s where you went wrong. you gave away your heart to someone and got nothing in return, nothing to plug up the all-consuming void in your chest. there was nothing left of you. no, that wasn’t quite true. there was nothing good left of you. you gave him your best parts and all you had now was pure resentment that burned hot and fierce in your core, so acidic it ate everything in its path. it burned away the dredges of your soul until all you could do was allow it to climb up and scorch your throat in a silent scream.

another memory. it’s strange what your brain chose to latch onto as you spiralled. on the surface, you remember this to be a happier time. but as it overtook you, you’re reminded almost violently that the edges of this memory are stained with the early decay of your identity.

before the early mornings and late nights, before you got into the habit of staring at your ceiling and wondering how you got to that point, you and sakusa had a tradition. you’d both find something, a story, a movie, that you think the other doesn’t know and share it with them. that day sakusa came to you with the myth of orpheus and eurydice.

he told you the story of a man so in love with his wife he journeys to the underworld after she dies to find her, how hades tells him he can guide her to the land of the living but orpheus must trust that eurydice is following him. if he turns around, eurydice’s fate is sealed. sakusa explained how in every version of the myth, orpheus turned around at the very end out of an uncontrollable, unfiltered love for his wife. whether it was because he was excited to see the end of the tunnel and wanted to share his joy with her or because he feared she got lost, either one stems from the love he has for her. the love that sent him to find her is the same love that doomed her in the end. but the more sakusa spoke about orpheus, the more you wondered about the other protagonist of the story.

“why didn’t eurydice try to let orpheus know she was there? she could’ve held his hand or touched his back or something.” you asked. you were laying your head on sakusa’s chest, letting the low rumble wash over you as he read you the tale. the question had been bugging you as the story came to its conclusion though you couldn’t place your finger as to why.

“she was a spirit. she would pass right through him.”

“yeah but…” you searched for the words to explain your confusion. “she didn’t even try.”

“it wouldn’t have mattered either way.”

you opened your mouth to press the issue further, too stubborn to let it go just yet when you heard sakusa sigh out of his nose. it was enough for any question to die on your tongue and all that came out was a quiet, “i guess so.”

it was a nothing memory. an empty thing to remind you of better times that you’ve had no need to look back on. so why did that moment swirl around your head now, as you crumbled in your lowest moments? scattered pieces start to form together in the recesses of your mind but before you could call them forth to make a full image, the bedroom door swung open and sakusa walked in.

for once, you don’t slip on your well worn porcelain mask. you don’t school your expression and force it to mold into something that couldn’t quite be called happy. instead, you sat up straight in bed, held his gaze and did nothing to hide the maelstrom of hurt that raged inside you. a sick satisfaction shot through your veins when his steps faltered at the force of your stare.

“what’s wrong?” he asked.

what isn’t? you thought but instead said, “nothing. i was just thinking. about us.”

“oh.” his eyes are already sliding away from you, a quiet detachment in his voice that made you grind your teeth in frustration.

“remember that greek story you told me about?”

“mhmm.”

“tell me again why eurydice didn’t reach out.” there it is again. a short, sharp exhale from his nose. he opened his mouth but you spoke before he could. “humour me.”

“she was dead, darling. she couldn’t touch him, he couldn’t hear her so there was no point.”

“no point? there was no point in trying to tell orpheus that she was behind him? he climbed into the underworld for her and she couldn’t try?”

“could you--?” he cut himself off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “it’s late. i’m exhausted and really not in the mood so can we go to bed?”

“doesn’t that sound familiar?” you continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “one person bending heaven and hell for the person they love while the other can’t even meet them halfway. remind you of anything?”

now you had his full attention. his brows scrunched together and you’re not sure if he’s trying to figure out the meaning behind your words or the reason for your hostile tone. you don’t feel like helping him out either and instead watched the gears turn in his head with something akin to glee. it’s his turn to be paranoid, to overthink, to pick apart every moment of your relationship and dissect it piece by rotted piece.

“please don’t be vague. if you’re upset with me, tell me.” it was the most emotion you’ve heard from him in so long, you were taken aback for a moment.

“i’m a bit past ‘upset’, omi.”

“i’m sorry.”

you scoffed. “you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.”

“you’re hurt and it’s my fault. that's enough for me to say sorry.”

“you don’t understand.” he crossed the room in three large strides, sitting on the edge of the bed to leave space between you.

“then help me understand.”

you floundered for the right words to explain the mountain of revelations you’ve uncovered and settled for, “how do i take my coffee, kiyoomi?”

he took your use of his full name in stride. “black. one sugar.”

“no that’s how you take your coffee. that’s the only way you ever make coffee. i had to learn to like it.”

“what, you’re mad i don’t know how you like your coffee?” you know he didn’t mean anything by it, that’s he's always been more blunt that he means to be but it doesn’t stop you from feeling patronized and the hurt loosened your tongue.

“it’s not about the coffee! it’s not about the fact that eurydice was a ghost. it’s the effort, omi. you haven’t put an ounce of effort into this relationship. i’m the one who has to bend. i’m the one that has to change, it’s never you.”

“i never asked you to.” the truth of the statement knocked the air out of your lungs. because that's the worst part, isn’t it? you have no one to blame your misery on but yourself.

“i don’t know how to love you without sacrificing pieces of myself. and i’m empty, kiyoomi, i've given you all of me. and it feels like you’ve given me nothing in return.”

his head was bowed while he listened but from how tight he laced his fingers together, you know he was fighting to stay calm. “you know i love you, right?”

“do you? do you love me or love that i’m convenient? love that i clean your place and make you food and have a hole you can--”

“stop.” you didn’t know it was possible for so much heartbreak to be packed into a single word. it sobered you of your venom and in its place, shame came rushing in.

“i’m sorry. i'm pissed at myself for letting it get this far and i’m taking it out on you. i don’t regret loving you. but it feels like that’s the only thing living inside me. like i’m not even a person anymore.”

“i should’ve noticed. it shouldn’t have taken you snapping for me to realize what was going on.”

“maybe.”

silence, suffocating silence, stretched and morphed time until it felt like you’ve aged a decade in a moment. and then sakusa spoke.

“you’ll help a stranger just because they look like they might need it and ask for nothing in return. you’ll make someone food just so you can be sure they ate that day. you’ll tell me about your day while i fall asleep and i don’t think i could sleep without hearing your voice. you’re kind and too selfless for your own good and the best person i’ve ever met. it kills me that i’ve been the cause of your pain.”

it was strange hearing those traits spun in a good light when you’ve thought of them negatively for so long. strange knowing where you saw faults he saw things worth admiring. “you hear me at night?”

“and you like focusing on minor details. yes, darling. every night.”

“oh.”

“i understand if you need… space, if you want to spend some time apart. but give me a chance. please. give me a chance to prove how important you are to me. i’m sorry that i’ve failed you. i’m sorry i've been taking you for granted. but that ends now. never again.

“and i can help you, too. i can remind you of all the parts you say you’ve lost. i’ll tell you all about the person i fell in love with everyday if you need it. i’d never run out of things to say. please. you found me once, let me return the favour and help you find yourself. if-if you’ll have me.”

his small speech wasn’t the reason tears stung the back of your eyes. as he finished speaking, sakusa reached out across the space between you and offered you his hand. a lifeline that you took, the lump in your throat to keeping everything you wanted to say stuck inside you. thankfully, you needed no words for sakusa to understand you. he brought your joined fingers to his lips and let out a shaky breath against them. the two of you stayed like that for a small eternity, drifted apart yet holding together with a bridge to link you. you’ve been fueled by resentment and anger for so long, you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to let them go. but you did know that you didn’t want to try without him by your side.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagine #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi angst #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! angst

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kurimiaki · 4 years ago

Note

T, R, N and P with Diluc please?

the uncrowned king of mondstadt, diluc ragnvindr.

yandere alphabet via dear-yandere! revisions i made are flaky so. my bad wwwww

cw: dark content, physical abuse, kidnapping, confinement, claustrophobia, extremely unhealthy relationship.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Just because Diluc may be attending to business elsewhere, does not mean you are free from his heady grasp. Distant yet coddling; his attentiveness is a curse just as much as it can be a blessing. You’re never without security, that much is true. Dawn Winery is his eyes and ears, every single servant wrapped around his finger, wrapping around and constricting you. Self isolation could never be a possibility, not when Adelinde ushers you out of bed without a minute left to spare, always in such a hurry, as if wallowing in utter boredom for days on end is anything of importance. From the very beginning, Diluc had made it a point to ensure your physical health was a top priority to those surrounding you; strict itineraries have maids silently mourning over their packed workload. A plethora of duties— take you on brief walks outside the winery, never longer than 15 minutes, feed and serve meals delicately planned and catered to your health, eyes and ears constantly watching, watching, watching. They keep you like a dog on a leash, no matter how pampered. They do so dutifully. They must. Who could possibly decline such a hefty pay at the expense of silence?

It would be a blatant lie to say your physical health had declined any whilst under his... care, however, the same cannot be said for your mental well being. He can’t, despite how much he hates his inability to do so, prevent your tears. And by the archons, do you cry. Diluc is unable to approach you some days, those days when the illusion of normalcy and domestic living he works so hard to put up simply melts away, when you can do little more than curl in on yourself and wretch into your silk sheets with a litany of tears flush in your eyes. He wills himself to allow you the mercy of a few hours alone, albeit with check ups and that blatant discomfort of his when you wail at the slightest touch to your shoulder. Of course, it’s a different case entirely when such cries are symptom of punishment— whereas Diluc will weakly attempt to comfort you with softened eyes when you work yourself up, flaky and visibly uncomfortable, his resolution is unflinching and unwavering should you choose to act out of turn. Wail, sob, beg and beg for mercy, for forgiveness, his mask of nonchalance will stay firm.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. Diluc is understanding that the situation he has thrust you into may not be ideal, he anticipates a lack of reciprocation and overall resistance, but he feels absolutely no guilt. In his eyes, this is for the best, the world is much too cruel— who better than him to make that judgement for you? Even if you do prove yourself to be capable of taking care of yourself, (with Diluc himself to measure up to) this Darknight Hero will find every minute, minuscule little thing to prove you otherwise. Just about every one of your shortcomings Diluc will try and use to his advantage, to put himself in a better light. Who else is as capable as he is, who else can prove themselves worthy of your companionship, your devotion, in the ways that he has? The longer you stay in his grasp, not that the possibility of leaving will come otherwise, the more difficult it becomes to prove him wrong. He feeds you with the utmost care, keeps you healthy, entertains you should you need conversation or otherwise, and provides, provides, provides. There may be a lack of freedom on your end, but really, do you have much room to complain? Without him, you may very well be dead. He ensures that point is driven straight to your heart, however many times is necessary until you grow compliant.

His will and rationality is fully reasonable, in his mind, hence why his wishes to keep you by his side shall forever remain solid. Perhaps it is the idea of you keeping close to him that entraptures Diluc so entirely, for he is a distant admirer. He would be contented growing old and without your touch, merely sharing your company for as long as life allows. All the same, he wishes to swallow you whole, skin, blood, guts and tears, if only to keep you with him. It is selfish, but he tells himself that is something of which he is deserving. He must.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Diluc is nothing if not dedicated to his goals, a driven man in everything he sets his mind to. In order to maintain the position he thrives in, he is forever alert, forever adapting, prepared for any strenuous situation thrown his way. Should you push past a line you are never meant to cross, jab at him a tad too harshly, well... it’s not as if he gives no thought as to how to keep you in line. Rarely are you knowing enough of his inner workings to be able to push him past the point of no return, a point where even you, his dearest, are not spared from his wrath. Emphasis on rare, for he is wholly tolerant and gentle with you, to an extent. Any person has a breaking point, and Diluc, despite his detached disposition and stoic attitude, can only withstand so much. He bottles up so much to remain composed, after all. When he snaps, he is unable to hold himself back any longer.

He is not one to take pleasure from the suffering of others. Lest they truly deserve it, is what he’ll tell himself, to at the very least maintain the illusion of normalcy. Sway not from the path of righteousness, forget not the splendor of dawn. His mind is able to concoct the most horrific scenarios he could possibly put you through, for he does the same with his enemies. In a way, when you act out of turn, an instinctual part of him, cultivated after years spent at the whims of the dangerous and unknown, sees you as just that— an enemy. He doesn’t often choose the more unsavory methods to keeping you in line, ie: beating or threatening you with his vision, further keeping true to said threats should you continue. Diluc is wholly capable of restraining the urge to simply slap the snark off of your face (he had done so regardless, once or twice), and much prefers isolating you on his own terms, away from everyone and everything, even himself. It’s a small room, not even on par with that of your shared bedroom, much more similar to a closet or crawlspace.

A room, but a cage all the same. Splintered wood floors, dank cobblestone surrounds you and few cracks in the stone leaves room for bugs of all nature to crawl through, allows the elements to rain hell upon you should you end up locked up during the harsher months. A lone maid, not even Adelinde, the head, attends to you, sparing meek glances should you call out when she gently places a meal of one roll, a piece of meat, and a few shoddily cut slabs of potato. No begging and weeping and screaming you may do will soften Diluc into coming back for you- again, his resolve is akin to that of steel, his will forever unyielding. He decides when you are thoroughly broken in, and when it is time to hold you in kind, he shines through like that of The Darknight Hero the people proclaim him to be. In the end, what is necessary is that he shows you how much better off you are when with him. He’s much too possessive and to a point, coddling, to ever consider discarding you into the wild and at the whims of hilichurl camps and abyss mages alike.

His hold is firm and grounding. Had he always been able to hold you with such ease? Had he ever truly held you in kind, as he does now? He’s warm. A familiar, comforting scent of smoke and acidic wine fills your senses and him, oh, him. He had left you, left you alone, all alone, in that room, not even a room, all alone, and yet you can do little more than gag and writhe and latch onto him with pleas of his name whispered hoarsely— ‘Diluc, Diluc, Diluc’. A cry of your savior.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you. Won’t give you the mercy, but he couldn’t be angry. Not anymore. He holds you tighter and so flush to himself, with a ferocity narly shown to anyone but you, not in kind, not with this passion. You smell of dust, a husk of yourself. Faintly of his sheets, faintly of iron, of vomit, of filth.

Fresh memories of your betrayal burn hot in his mind. He’s contradicting himself. He cannot relent. It comes out as a whisper, barely even heard to himself, and he curses his very soul the moment it passes his lips.

“Strive to do better. Lest you want your time there to increase tenfold.”

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He can bear with defiance and unwillingness on your part, to an extent. He can anticipate as much, for he is not delusional enough to fool himself into thinking your relationship is even somewhat typical to that of a normal couple, no matter how much he wishes that to be the case. No, for the initial few weeks of your captivity (he’s always gotten so mad when you refer to him as such, a captor) Diluc allows you to lash and sob and attempt to reason with him, attempt to soften him, attempt to hurt him. He’ll allow you to do so, but he himself remains impenetrable, unblinking, almost uncaring. He is prepared for about anything and everything, always expecting the worse possibilities as to save himself from further harm. For you, as well, he is constantly anticipating and observing. In hidden, minute little ways. It may even come as a shame to him if the fact that he enforces the maids to note down your every little move ever reaches your ears.

All in all, Diluc’s complete preparation for anything and everything you may throw his way makes him extremely patient, for better or for worse. Difficult to crack, impenetrable, almost— on one hand, the distance he keeps from you to accommodate for your lack of reciprocation may come as a blessing, but it makes it all too difficult to try and pester him into letting you go, to try and understand his goals and motivations in keeping you locked right away. Your complacency is inevitable, sooner or later, Diluc will begin approaching and weaseling his way into your routine in the smallest of ways, gradually and unconsciously causing you to grow fonder of his presence. It’s a slow process, one he had planned from the very moment his wishes of a domestic life with you grew much too much to handle. He loves you completely, yearns for your love, and for it, he will wait as long as necessary.

Blazing red eyes leer down upon you, your shame increasing tenfold for each second that passes subjected to that gaze of his. A fit of expaseration, you will admit, had sent the cutlery dear Hillie had so delicately prepared flying off of the white tablecloth and onto the hardwood floors, further staining the expensive rugs with wines and crumbs and oils from his favorite meal, a concoction of pasta and steak and cheese. He had prepared yours alongside with it, striking tonight as a tad more special than the rest. You didn’t blame yourself for what you did, not when he had proposed something as outlandish as marriage.

He keeps silent, leaning back in his seat, his throne, as if he were a king observing a mere peasant begging for mercy— quite frankly, you should be. But perhaps tonight he will be more lenient, you ponder, averting your gaze to the flickering embers sparking from the fireplace beside you.

He sighs, suddenly, worn and thoroughly put out by your antics, further embarrassing you by his facade of nonchalance. No, you could tell from the way his leather gloves creaked from gripping himself too hard, he was barely concealing his own anger.

“You hardly let me finish my scentence. Come, we’ll continue this conversation upstairs.”

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breastmaster64 · 3 years ago

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dsmp!quackity wip i'll never finish because i forgot what i wanted to write—

quackity has 2 rings.

he's never been much of a jewelry person (and his ex-lover forcing him to wear multiple pieces at a time solidified his bias against it), but he still wears the two rings.

on the ring finger of his left hand sat a purple ring made of obsidian, netherite, and love— on top of it is another; this one made of gold, copper, netherite, and passion.

no matter the time, day, weather, or activity, the rings would stay on his finger.

quackity has scars.

on his body, there were small ones that rooted from innocent roughhousing that would inevitably go wrong— ones that he would laugh off and think of fondy years down the line. painful ones that burned his mind; reminding him of the tyranny that came from a lover that never truly loved him. a big and angry one that permanently blinded his left eye and tore his lip, a result of a failed revenge.

on his heart and mind, sleepless nights of needing to watch his lover drink himself to death had stayed; the same lover who would often pull and push him with no guilt or remorse.

the imagery of his friends slowly abandoning him because a certain god-complex having blond had fucked his life up would stay heavy and anchoring his heart down.

in the same way the vision of a 7 foot tall piglin hybrid stands in front of him with an amused smirk— pickaxe through his face as he feels himself die in every sense of the word; the image still haunts him, and he thinks that it has stained his very eyes as sometimes, when he closes his eyes, all he could see is him.

no matter what quackity does, the scars stay on and with him.

quackity has a home.

he has a legacy— las nevadas was built from the ground up as he tries to cover up his failures with something people can look at and adore him for.

in las nevadas, it seems like all your dreams could come true. the scenery, nightlife and everything in between can make you think that you're a winner; that you can create your own destiny and that you're amazing.

in las nevadas, it seems like an abandoned lover is just trying his best to move past his past.

he claims that at the end of the day, it's for him and his fiancées. that every blood, sweat, and tear dropped was for them— for the new home that he has built for them. it doesn't matter if he's basically ruined purpled or sam or whoever the fuck's life; because he didn't do that— they just dont know what's best for them. he's not the one being selfish; he's only doing this for his lovers.

las nevadas is a country built on lies and brutality— but it is his home and his legacy.

quackity has— had— friends and lovers.

the first lover was a very charming businessman, serenading him with promises of a life with power and luxury. before anything could even happen, however, the man was banned from the lands of the essempi; when he made his return, the man was weak and pathetic yet acted like he owned the world. gone was the charm and cunning feats of the ram hybrid— all that remained was the husk of a man who couldn't even stand up properly without swaying and falling apart. schlatt was a good lover, but never a good man.

he had his first friend; a man who seemed to have the world in his hands, yet had little to no care for it. the apathy was fun to watch at first, if it weren't directed at him. the man just suddenly up and left him; and quackity wouldn't be surprised if the brit just shrugs him off and lets out a small "eh" if he cried his heart out in front of him. he still thinks that george sleeping through the elections was what ruined his life.

the second one was a man who was so kind to him. a brunet with the loveliest smile who seemed to know how to make quackity feel like he could fly again. it wasn't like he treated quackity as if he were a baby or made of glass— he just treated quackity like he was loved. and he was. if quackity was earth, then karl would be his sun; giving his life brightness and joy.

the third one was not a replacement, but rather someone who he had developed feelings for. a fiery black-haired man who had no shame or fear and would do whatever he wants, in the name of keeping himself happy. they would clash, sure, but dear god he would be lying to himself he said that he doesn't melt whenever the rough-handed man would hold him so gently. sapnap, in turn of karl being the sun, was his moon; the man to control his tides.

his second (and maybe— but hopefully not— last) genuine friend was someone he didn't even treat too well. it keeps him up at night, really, thinking about the fact that even after the world has turned it's back on him and abandoned him, the slime entity would still give him a smile and loved him as if he deserved it. he feels like an asshole when he remembers how he acted like a know-it-all who taught charlie stuff when in reality, it was quackity who learned from him how to love unconditionally— and he knows that charlie loved him unconditionally, because even after the man's death, he can sometimes still feel the cool slime stick to him; comforting him whenever he gets a bit too hot-headed.

quackity had friends and lovers. if only they didn't abandon him.

#/rp /dsmp #quackity #karlnapity #or at least implied lol #jschlatt #slimecicle #karl jacobs #sapnap #georgenotfound #genuinely forgot where i was going w this since it's been sitting in my docs for weeks.... oh well

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floralkittygambler · 4 years ago

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HuskerDust - More Toxic Than You Think [LONG]

This is the rough version of a deeper and more complex subject I want to ‘decorate’ with more ‘screencaps’. DISCLAIMER: This is allegedly controversial and led to me getting literal death threats and an ED triggered. Ive about heard a lot of people’s shit on this so dont try it. I’m speaking from personal experiences too - experiences I really fuckin dont wanna be sharin yet they kinda validate my points. I want people to be aware of the damaging image from someone who can speak from experience without attracting dickheads or people twisting things. Again, I aint particularly comfortable sharing this so yeah- Be courteous- TW AHEAD - ALSO LONG ASS READ. DNI STANS OR ANTIS. May tag a few folks, may not. HuskerDust is an extremely popular ship in the community however there’s glaringly obvious flaws in this one-sided relationship that both the fans and even the team fail to see. Neglecting the dangerous real world implications this ship [as well as many others] present to it’s audience - especially the more influenced of the audience, most who are children.

Angel flirts with all the male cast however one who catches his eye the most is Husk. Now I want to point out a few things [of many... obviously]; Angel is instantly starry eyed upon seeing Husk, likewise he actually started off with a ‘Hey~’ instead of something sexual. However he quickly ruins this after Husk tells him to go fuck himself [defined by: “ go fuck yourselfphrase of fuckVULGAR SLANGan exclamation expressing anger or contempt for, or rejection of, someone.” ie, he rejected instantly] by responding with an offer to allow Husk to essentially watch him masterbate. Alongside this, he cradles his face. Husk pulls away and seems to pull a face to express rage/disgust or growling imagery alongside COMPLETELY withdrawing his body away from Angel as Angel stares with goo-goo eyes. Firstly, Angel loves animals - perhaps it’s Husk appearing cute that adds to this, however Im not going to address animal imagery just yet. Secondly, Angel isn’t really portrayed to respect other’s boundaries BUT he does respect... Alastor’s. Al declines the blowjob to which Angel shrugs and doesn’t push this matter any further. With Husk, he’s pretty harshly told to piss off yet he makes quite and explicitly sexual remark, alongside invading his personal space and touching a man clearly disinterested and pulling away. From the initial rejection, it then becomes sexual harassment. I also want to add that Husk comes with [some] perks in his feline form. And if my name didnt make it obvious, I work with and live with cats on a daily. Briefly, I have been educated in how to understand cat’s language in various individual cat as well as how to handle and work with them. Cats are often drawn towards me and Ive been successful with various types of cats. My most recent being a cat I’ve dubbed as Big - Big was abandoned quite young and has lived most his life on the streets [where I live is high in crime and drug rings, so you can imagine how strays are treated] leading to him being extremely fearful and hating people, hissing and fleeing just seeing people. I took time out last summer to finally give befriending him a shot. It’s taken just under a year of hard work and now he visits every day for his mush [wet food] and kisses, responds to his name and runs up to me in delight. Ive even taught him a phrase to signal that I dont want him or the other cat’s to fight [keeps them all safe and aids them becoming acquainted under supervision - something that’s been working surprisingly well]. I apologise in advance as this is not going to be the first instance of this sort of thing but they are relevant. Trying my best to keep it as brief. For Husk, I will be using a mix of cat and human characteristics to break down his reactions. In this first interaction, he turns his body away in a way to suggest caution, wariness and disinterest. In fact, much of his general body language is that of a man deeply closed off from connections - for starters, he folds his arms quick a bit which suggests lack of openness, shutting off and defensiveness *usually*. Likewise, when touched, he slightly jumps and tenses before pulling back in aggression with flattered ears - a sign cats give to display extreme hostility in a situation. It’s NEVER a good thing but then again, neither is crossing someone’s boundaries. It’s even stated that Husk hates Angel’s advances and wishes for nothing to do with him - the same dislike of sexual advances that Al dislikes in Angel. The ending as they all walk inside, Angel turns to Husk, winking and blowing a kiss his way despite the clear rejection earlier. In fact, Husk once again grows tense and is even irked by such a gesture. This won’t be the last mention of Angel totally disregarding how Husk feels - something that rubs off onto the fans AND the team themselves. And it’s... *concerning*, to phrase it lightly. Angel so far is the most persistent towards the most resistant, and in my post on RadioDust I have already established [briefly] on how Angel seems to chase unavailable men. The more unavailable, the more tempting. The one that got away, mentality. It’s not healthy. And I’m surprised so few have acknowledged this. Taking a break from what we’ve seen in the Pilot, let’s establish some facts about the pair. Angel died in 1947 in his 30s [some posts specify 34-35], putting his birth year around 1911-12ish. Husk died in the 70s IN his 70s [again, nothing is truly specified, so for both we’ll go with 75 - the same number in his IG username] that puts birth year roughly 1900′s. Now an age gap between two adults of 11 - 12 years difference is actually reasonable and can work, depending on circumstance and whether theres a balance in power or not. But when we account for their life experiences and death ages, it’s something else entirely. Angel died young. Not only that but his mind seems more stuck in his raunchy teens than of an adult. And even THEN, he wouldnt be one to necessarily settle down [by which I mean in life, not romance]. He’s extremely emotionally stunted and his selfishness and wanting his own way come off very spoilt [when Husk is pissed off about the cat costume, Angel gets moody because he’s used to compliments AND is dressing to impress Husk. When Husk wanted the money he was rightfully owed, Angel threw a fit for ages until starting to earn it back - even though he owed Husk a drink, which I’ll be coming back to, Husk still wanted the money in the end perhaps hinting to only accepting a freebie as it’s on offer as well as Angel being overly persistent. He even dumps his pig onto Husk to look after, while theres no issue in pet sitting, Angel said Husk ‘owed’ him due to missing the show yet when HE owed Husk, he threw a fit.]. Angel’s life style is wildly chaotic in life AND death, and even though we all know he’s most likely going to be redeemed, he still lacks a lot of experiences in life. He lacks maturity. On the other hand, Husk’s been through his own share of chaos and heartbreak. Difference is, he’s had a life time of experience. He doesn’t act immature in a childish sense. He truly behaves like a downtrodden old man. He’s had his days and would feel more secure settling down in a more peaceful environment with fun yet much needed calm. A better way to handle his need for risk. Age gaps in adults that are large [75 - 35 = 40 years!] are far less likely to work for a multitude of reasons. The main reason is the difference in life stages - that difference in mentality and experiences plays such an impacting role on compatibility. Often their goals and energies are polar opposites and their common grounds minimal. There’s also the looming concern of power dynamics. Whilst it’s usually the older figure that’s holds the power advantage, in this case it’s a little bit more complicated. I’d argue that it’s possibly Angel with the higher power. This rarely works irl but it’s POSSIBLE. Look at Hugh Heffner and his last partner before his death. I believe she was around 22. However there’s many common grounds, immediate attraction, and similar goals. Though incorrect, Heffner does give off a pimp-like vibe (he’s not but you get what I’m implying with mothlike imagery). Husk does not strike me as that type. It would definitely cheapen his character. In terms of interests, the main thing they have in common is that they like to drink. A bad habit, especially when one is an alcoholic. Both are also rather lazy except for certain circumstances [Husk will go out of his way to help HOWEVER he’s obliged to under Al, the only one he’s seen to willingly help and bond with/be seen with is Niffty. Angel is when there’s a fight, chaos, drama or any sex work]. Both are also rather snarky and vulgar. In terms of love, both suffer intimacy issues. On Husk, it’s ‘losing the ability to love a long time ago’ meaning he was likely cheated on or at least had a failed relationship. If he was ever ready for a new start, he’d definitely want something stable yet rewarding. For now, he needs a LOT of work - work he is not yet willing to put in, nor does he have a reason to. Angel doesnt want to commit because he’s extremely selfish as well as in an already abusive ‘relationship’ already. Sex work is sometimes VERY taxing on the mental health due to some of the folk you service. He’s seen the worst in many and just enjoys the pay and fuck. IF Husk was cheated on, then it’d make a lot of sense if a sex worker wouldn’t be his flavour, it would just serve as a reminder. Not only this, but Angel HIMSELF actively participates in cheating. Not with Val... but with *Travis*. BOTH know Travis is married (I’d be feckin worried if Trav didnt-) yet they still choose to cheat anyways, regardless of the pain it could cause. Angel even mocks this by sending greetings to Trav’s wife. Honestly this... Reminds me a LOT of Stolas - a main character who sexually harasses another character clearly not interested/comfortable, participates in cheating and we’re supposed to root for them (and before anyone gets offended, I do have more to say on Angel’s behalf so please be patient). Either way, it’s very toxic and concerning. Even if Husk wasn’t cheated on, I dont think many would feel exactly secure after having such a rough past with love, diving into a relationship with someone who’s openly participated in multiple affairs. And that’s no shitting on sex workers either, it’s just a point that some would feel uncomfortable with the idea of being with ANYONE (regardless of their work) having actively and KNOWINGLY took part in having an affair previously - especially multiple. Husk’s in an emotionally fragile place and needs more security. We’ve already established Husk heavily dislikes Angel’s advances. In fact, his responses to Angel are similar to his responses to... Al! His body language is VERY test and closed off to even Al, who’s most likely knew him for a very long time. If even Al gets this treatment (whilst also disrespecting his boundaries) then it’ll be the same with Angel (both force Husk into their lives and schemes, both disregard his boundaries). And he’s shown to STILL go out his way to help both however this is most likely tied to an unspoken ‘debt’ he owes Alastor. Plus he’s been mentioned behind the scenes to be a secret softie and protective grandpa type. But this animosity is very reflective of how Loona behaves and responds to Blitzo as well as how both Loona AND Husk (One being a ‘lowly servant’, the other being a literal old MAN) as pets - even the fans - just because of their forms. But this isnt the first of the disrespect they receive. Now we delve deeper Both are addicts of some kind (Husk - drinking, gambling. Angel - Drugs, possibly sex). Not a good mix at all romantically. Addicts often and unintentionally feed their addictions to each other as well as can increase likelihood of relapsing which even a recovered addict can slip back into. When times get tough (a natural occurrence) both are likely to suffer with their addictions. Interestingly, they can become addicted and dependent on one another, which is genuinely unhealthy for a mindset anyways, regardless whether addiction existed prior or not. Addiction only increases these chances. Angel likes confidence in a man (confirmed on Patreon). Yet, Husk is even confirmed in streams to be deeply troubled and insecure. One thing he hates is his demon form, something that we’ll touch on shortly. Angel loves quality food ESPECIALLY of Italian origin whilst Husk is willing to eat the shit they give you in bars (admittedly that was painful to type as someone who grew up around pubs - either way it’s not exactly high quality or gourmet is what I’m saying). Interestingly, in some character references of Angel, it’s stated that he hates rejection. Hates. That’s a VERY strong word. This could explain but not justify why he’s persistent with Husk (similar to NiceGuys believing you’re playing ‘hard to get’ - further illuding to an immature and toxic mindset) though it interestingly doesn’t apply with Alastor. Odd. There’s a counterpoint to symbolism in art. A very VALID counterarguement... If it suited Viv’s style. During Media Studies, Business, Design and Art, hell fucking Silent Hill! - I’ve been educated on effective symbolism as well as artistic trademarks (the most famous that most should know is Alfred Hitchcock!). Hitchcock often appeared in all his films, usually as a sidefacing silhouette, trading marking his films with his very PRESENCE. Viv’s seems to revolve around hearts. I mention this because an IG account made the point that hearts were to symbolise anyone connected with Angel’s story and love life (Valentino’s business and shades/collar, heart behind Angel’s head, Heart tattoo on Cherri’s right shoulder, hearts for Husk’s paws, eyebrow marks above natural brows, wings, and nose as well as most of the playing cards). Thing is, there’s hearts EVERYWHERE in all of Viv’s works and such symbology of Angel and hearts is weakened if it connects to the villains/abusers as well - taking away the positivity in a love symbol. Viv’s used hearts in her font, backgrounds, in characters ears, in all her series just generalised, Blitzo’s forehead, background characters, again the cards, Travis’s eyes, Millie’s right shoulder in the SAME place as Cherris. Even Vaggie had a heart tattoo on the shoulder in some christmas themed artwork (on her left). Heart’s is just something Viv seems to brand herself with. And that’s fine though I feel she could do with cutting it down slightly. One thing to early note on the cards (again, this’ll creep up later and my name should tell you why), most are heart suits and usually either a face card (J, Q, K), Joker, ace or 2s. Face cards/Jokers for more details close up (look at the signing artwork) and the rest are just easier to animate, though a little bit of a peeve to someone into their cards as well as the massive overuse of red in Hazbin overall. It’s extremely unlikely to be symbolic. If they change it to be so, then it’s... Weakened. As I’ve mentioned earlier, Silent Hill is an example of extremely clever symbolism in more darker media (more so, SH is considered a ‘hell’ of sorts and does feature religious iconography WITHOUT causing offence. A great example of how to portray this type of thing - they even mix humour in if you consider some of the sneaky references, dialogues and odd UFO/dog endings). Discussing Viv’s art further, she drew a gift for her sister (original creator of Husk when he possessed white fur) of Angel playfully dragging a disinterested and annoyed Husk (I believe this was still around the time SpiderMoth was canon). The newish art tends to have Angel putting a holly crown on him or sitting on his knees, Husk seeming too lazy to really do anything about it. Very nonchalant. I also want to include some interesting stream arts here and later to further highlight their bond. A fan asked Viv in a stream to draw them “actually getting along” - this wording implying that the fan is aware of Husk not enjoying Angel’s company. So Viv did, with an extra doodle of Husk being one of the ‘canadian people’ from South Park who sing “Im not your friend”. The art alone shows Husk’s absolute discomfort, even the extra thing Viv added w/o request. As they’re her characters and the fan asked for what they’d look like getting along, to show this discomfort goes to show the dynamic once planned. Husk just isnt a fan of Angel, especially when he’s being sexual and touchy. It can be great for small comedic parts, however both the team AND fans have now crossed this over to really creepy and triggering realms in their ships. It’s creepy and doesnt look good on Angel (who they actively root for) nor the gay community (more on that).

[Yes Ive already pointed out the comedic side of this ^ but it doesnt bode well considering the other points and issues that arise] There’s also a request for drag angel flirting with drunk husk. Personally thats a lil creepy to specify one of the two being intoxicated and thus not able to truly consent. If Angel is willing to flirt with someone in that state, it doesnt mean he would fuck them, but it does feel the fan was thinking that’s the case. In all truth, I think Angel WOULD flirt with those incapable of consent purely to swindle or pickpocket. I’d like to think [and HOPE considering his own abuse by Val] that he’d never take it further. And I hope Viv, the team and the fans see how incredibly creepy that thought is. I’ll give benefit of the doubt though it is still a concern. Either way, Angel appears... Annoyed? Husk is completely turned away and seems incredibly grouchy and confused. This shows yet more rejection on his behalf as well as Angel’s response to being rejected, which highlights his immaturity towards it. Remember, he’s USED TO and EXPECTS everyone to want him (even saying this in the Pilot). Hell, there’s even a Rich Vaggie request where Viv again randomly includes Husk. This time, he’s faced towards her and relaxed, though seems unimpressed and overall disinterested in this type of behaviour. Behaviour and interests of Angel [Celeb status and rich appearance due to Val, despite getting very little of the cut and the vanity, as well as Husk just not giving a shit about this sort of peacock display]. (Also wanted to note in Viv’s #3 stream 1:50:50, Faust makes out that Husk is a ‘dirty, creepy old man’ as well as him constantly threatening violence towards Angel. I dont see him as *creepy* in this context - as it implies perversion that he blatantly lacks fortunately - though it’s very telling of how Husk feels and again shows this toxic relationship).

/Angel’s Type: First off, daddy issues. He has them. Now let’s look at ‘daddy’. Henroin is shorter than Angel, dark fur, grumpy, old, wears only a hat and tie, big brows... Sounds familiar? Ok, look at his brother Arackniss. Similar to Henroin, dark, short, grouchy, bullied by and bullies Angel, is adverse to Angel and overall possess a bad relationship. Ok.... His main client, Travis! Short, dark fur, moody, Only wears hat and tie, drinker (shown in stream as request so take drinking with a pinch), similar face to- Is no one else seeing this trait? Angel seems to go for these shorter than him grouchier men who either want him for sex or hate his presence. Men who are like his dad and brother. All of these guys are far too similar, and we’ve got enough men in suits, bowties and sharp teeth in this show to boot as it is- The psychology of this type of attachment is rooted in a bad familial relationship alongside the subconscious desire to repair or compensate for it. Unknowningly the person will keep seeking out this sort of guy who isnt good for them to fix this internal issue. The resolution is to NOT go for these types. It’s also connected to intimacy fears, by going for those you know arent good for you/right for you/interested in you is often the manifestation of these issues. Pair them with daddy issues and it’s a disaster! There is science to back this up. Valentino is interestingly the opposite yet still toxic issues arise. Why? Because he’s going from one extreme to the other but with the same mindset. Neither of these men or types for MANY reasons are right for him. And visa versa. Seeing a pattern? ~~~~

Angel w Husk? I mentioned before that Husk hates his demon form. If you’re an old man, a gambler, some Vegas bloke and have this grouchier disposition, why the fuck would you want to look like an oversized pet? Exactly. Angel however adores his own aside from the feet. Now I find it strange how the guy we’re rooting for just so happens to like his own form which was intended for punishment. But that’s not todays post. I said earlier that Angel is heavily fixated on Husk’s appearance. Especially the feline aspects (calling him Husky and Kitty - petnames he hates that also treat him again more like a pet than a man -, dressing as a ‘sexy cat’ to appeal to him which can come off as more mockery. This is even backed up by fans who seem to think an old guy’s gonna act like some school girl anime trope?). All of this completely disregards and disrespects Husk’s feelings and perspectives. Something the fans and team take part in actively. Angel - whether you want to hear this or not - is SELFISH. When Husk ‘owed’ him for missing the show (babysitting Fat Nuggets), Husk begrudgingly fulfils this. The second Angel owed Husk for stealing drinks, Angel threw a hissy fit. The silent treatment, going to other bars and posting about it whilst complaining (again focusing on Husk being ‘cute’). Trying to cop out of it by buying Husk a smoothie (though it looked like a date, lets be real, do you REALLY have to bribe someone to date and be around you? No) and even then he still had to owe the money which was more of Husk’s concern. Yes he did in the end and more money than needed, hence the returning of the extra cash, but that is no excuse for the childish behaviour prior. He’s much too accustomed to being adored and pampered and getting his own way that he cant grasp when people arent a fan or willing to pamper him. If they make them a ship, all it does it make Angel completely into a shitty Gary-Stu that everyone loves and pities for his suffering, rather than teach him to grow, earn his redemption and confronting his own toxicity. Let me make this extremely clear: ANGEL DOES NOT DESERVE ABUSE OR RAPE. But when he starts behaving as shitty, he’s hard to root for. Remember, he’s sexually harassing all these guys, with Husk getting the brunt of it. But it’s treated as a joke for them and only taken seriously for Angel. Val abuses all of his employees. He abuses VOX and even THAT was mocked by fans and staff. It’s... It’s frankly gross. In every interaction Husk has with Angel, his body language is closed off, tense, uncomfortable, turned away and hostile - look at the IG. He wont even allow Angel to touch him. Compare this to Niffty, who he’s fine with taking pictures with and letting her hang around and touch him. Body language is relaxed (relaxed shoulders, open body language) and he doesnt look hostile at all. What does Angel do? Always tries to get close to Husk (such as sitting as close as possible during Poker) and forces both his OWN hobbies onto Husk (ones that Husk shows a strong disinterest in) and Husk’s hobbies (Poker). It’s very FORCED and not natural. Going back to immaturity, he blames Husk and his cards for being shit at the game. They’re always bickering, insulting, fighting in the comments but fans only see this as a ‘cute couple fight’ or Husk being ‘tsundere’.Tsundere. An anime trope often used in young characters. Irl tsundere is NOT this dramatised. The tsundere you see in anime, apply that irl and you get the recipe for the most toxic, petty and immature relationship going. You get constant fights, unease, not feeling loved/appreciated, little trust - the list goes on. Plus an old bloke really isnt going to indulge in tsundere traits. It’s childish. After his history with love, I doubt he’d be up for games and messing about. For something meaningful, he’d just want open honesty. Their ‘relationship’ feels like it’s written by horny kids attempting a fanfic after being inspired by 50 shades and twilight (both show toxic relationshiiiiiips~). The worst is that these are adult writers trying to portray some realistic yet sensitive topics. This is just ill fuckin taste. Even the warnings in Helluva’s ‘Horny Demons’ leaves a bad taste when the fans are thinking Stolas is the best dad despite both parents ruining Octavia’s mental health. Despite the next day after that episode aired Stolas starts flirting with Blitzo again on IG. Despite Blitzo being clearly uncomfortable and sexually harassed and even co-herced into sex (VERY UNHEALTHY MESSAGES HERE). Viv herself has been in bad relationships so how the fuck she’s blind to this and even borderline fetishizing this sort of behaviour that everyone seems to play off as ‘Awwww cute tsundere <3 BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS’ is abhorrent. I’ll go into this more later on how this really just... It treats male sexual harassment and assault as a fucking joke- Angel’s constant unwarranted flirting is no different from the freaks on IG that send dick pics to underage kids and random women in their dms and fathom that they’re ‘nice’ and have a ‘chance’. Wanna know the creepiest? The candid photo of Husk on Angel’s wall. Something Husk seems horrified about. It’s fangirlish and teenager like at BEST, and obsessive stalker at worst. He’s NOT respecting Husk’s boundaries or feelings. That’s still up despite Husk’s reaction. He still wore the costume despite Husk’s feelings. Angel’s thinking with his dick and it’s such a fucked up message that everyone seems to support just because ‘its FICTION. Theyre in HELL.Theyre BAD people.’ Yeah? Well look at how that’s effecting and warping reality and perspective. It’s glamourising it. Fetishsizing stalking and making it cute. Yer have celebrity or boyband or whatever youre a fan of pics on your wall. NOT your crush. NOT someone who clearly isnt interested or happy with this. If someone who kept commenting on your pictures “sexy” suddenly had a picture of you on their wall, what would YOU think? How would YOU FEEL? Because myself and my own sisters have been in VERY fucking similar situations and it’s traumatic. His paw is even attempting the lens - Angel is crossing his boundaries and not getting the message that Husk doesnt want this. He’s forcing himself onto Husk. Yknow... VAL forced himself on Angel and it ended up in numerous rapes. Angel hasnt raped Husk, but if he wont take no. If he wont respect boundaries. If he only wants Husk to do what he wants but throws a fit when he owes husk - he’s picking up on Val’s bad habits more and more. How are so few - even the very team creating this - not seeing how disgusting this is? Are we only supposed to give a shit if Angels hurt? If so, the message isnt so much of how despicable Val is but how awful it is to upset Angel. Fans constantly blame Husk for being grumpy, annoyed at or rejecting Angel. Look at this real world implication. Not only that but Angel being gay just reinforces one of the worlds most disgusting and inaccurate stereotype of gay men being sexual predators and forcing men to have sex whether theyre comfortable or not. MOST gay men arent like this, and those who are its just because THEYRE shitty people (Jeffree fucking Starr, but look how people ‘stan’ his fuckin behaviour). Val is rubbing off on Angel as much as fiction has a MASSIVE impact on reality - whether we’re willing to admit it or not. Like Val, hes pushing past boundaries, he’s selfish, hes more into visuals than anything else. It’s one sided, superficial and theres no click. No connection. Be in this situation yourself and seeing this sorta shit becomes second nature to stay alive. Angel even says that most of hells residents are ‘ugly freaks’ yet finds Husk cute. It’s all LOOKS. Who else likes appearances alone? Val. I know this will trigger and upset fans, Ive been told to fucking die and have my ED triggered when I mentioned it before. But accept that all of them have flaws. Everyone irl have flaws. But there’s flaws and then theres a fuckin crime. If Husk was a woman, more people would see the flaw, but even then... Look at many romance movies - not all but many go for opposites attract (science proves this inaccurate irl), stalking, or even sexual harassments and assualts but she falls for him and they end up together. That aint love thats Stockholm with extra steps. Think you’re triggered and upset? Go through this shit - have a history with it happening - and then see some show you love and a comfort character get treated the exact same and everyone JUSTIFIES it, including the team themselves. It’s NOT cute. Part 2 to the previous point: Both do share common interests, but it’s very unhealthy such as excessive drinking, both being addicts and being rather lazy, etc. Otherwise the common ground just isnt good. They’re opposites that really dont compliment each other. (Not a valid point here but I find it interesting how Angel loves aquariums and Husk can fly too). Viv’s writing is mediocre at best (but with glowing potential - a diamond in the rough - hence why it’s so frustrating) but Husk’s writing is the laziest. According to Viv he’s (paraphrased) “easiest to write... doesnt care about anything, almost always grumpy leading to similar reactions to everything”. His voice and alcoholism even has a lot of inspiration from Rick Sanchez. As I said with Angel in the RadioDust post, it’s almost like the addictions are seen as a joke. A running gag is fine if you can play it off well and it’s not about something so serious EVEN MORE SO when the series is about how damaging the addictions are and redemption. Why is this end goal being ignored unless it’s about Angel himself? That’s not just favouritism or bias, that’s also heavily self indulgent and a backwards ass message. Right now, Hazbin and Helluva have this ugly fixation on sex and ships. VIV has a fixation on ‘horny demons’. Her main characters are incredibly sexual bar Al (dont even say Husk, Niffty, Charlie or Vaggie or even loona and Moxxie are even on par with the focus and treatment Val, Angel, Blitz and Stolas are given). It’s very fixated and concerning. Its starting to feel like it’s about to divulge into hentai than a legit series with even a hint of the plot or a message. It reminds me of Family Guy trying to be BoJack. It’s starting to remind me of fucking Sausage Party and the final orgy. Sex and swears makes it inappropriate for kids but that doesnt make it adult or mature, and this is coming from someone who swears more than a fucking sailor whos stubbed his bare pinky toe on a fucking crate corner. Constant swears arent funny or artful in the slightest when it’s over done. It’s just... childish adult humour. We cant be expected to want to root for any of them at this rate- All A24 and other companies are seeing is big cash and easily manipulated child audiences (for easy money). They KNOW it can be better but theyd rather be lazy as they’ll profit big either way. This is going to end up like YanSim and YanDev. Amazing potential, shit writing with a leader too stubborn to accept and act on criticism, seeing it as hate. At this point, Husk isnt a deeply troubled man with vices and interests. He’s just fuck candy and romantic end goal for Angel. To compliment and complete him. Just another accessory to the Angel Show. Vivs sister who made Husk even loves Angel so it’ll only serve to further this already toxic narrative. The ship doesnt look or feel right. There’s too much established now to see the dynamics and favouritism in the creators. Self indulgence. You cant play favourites when you do this sort of thing professionally. The audience can see it and it turns people away. Ask any nonHaz/Helluva fan what they think and it’s... Well, average. Another thing is everyone went full hype on Frozen focusing on something other than romance as a form of love. But then go back to “Ok now everyone reenact the final scenes of Sausage Party” afterwards. Not everything is sex and romance, and it really is starting to feel Viv and the fans are focused on that like Incels focusing on ‘chad’. It’s creepy. Helping with food, telling someone self conscious on their weight that they’re not fat, not taking more money than someone owes, even helping out with a pet - that’s something that a good friend would do. In fact, Husk even laughs at the goofy Angel cutout and it being destroyed. It doesnt instantly equate to wanting to fuck. The fact that the fans and even some of the team seem borderline horny is... Completely destroying this show, it’s message and everything about it. Viv said ships were hardly the focus in her stream but look at it now. Look at what Viv focuses on now. It’s just fanservice shit. Nothing more. Self indulgence shit, look at the team making rape into a fetish or shipping themselves publicly with the characters on the public IGs. It’s like watching children run a business and it’s painful because the entire series is suffering when it could be amazing. Friendship should be more normalised as a valuable type of relationship just as much as love or family are. I’ll also add that Husk adding after the show “Oh fuck... Is this what I missed? Shit.” is ooc like the ‘date’ (that was compensation for stolen drinks, like a tamer version of Blitzo fucking Stolas for the grimoire). It contradicts that he slept it off rather than an attempt at staying awake, as well as calling it a “god damn peepshow” implying a repulsion to the peverse tendencies. The constantly commenting, following and posting Angel related pics makes little sense either from someone who’s blatantly been sexually harassed as well as the clear repulsion of the candid pic on the wall. He outright rejected Angel. What would be realistic are the IGs focusing on learning about the characters, their lives and interests - ALL updating at realistic paces. Old men arent tech savvy usually nor care for social media that much. He’d post drinks, gambling, casinos, life with Niffty and Alastor. Heck maybe a picture of Angel captioned “When will this guy leave me the FUCK alone?”. He even only seems to tag angel, even in the pic that had Charlie and Vaggie [their shared account] or Niffty. Theres a CLEAR bias in the staff room and it’s messy. Look how most the female cast is ignored (Vaggie/Charlie, Velvet who posted a birthday gift to one of the new artists on the merch WHY? Gasu btw, Niffty, Millie only posting twice - heck even Vox and Loona sometimes get neglected. CLEAR. BIAS.) The ships focused on are 1) NOT established canon yet publicly favoured by Viv and the team (Stoliz, HuskerDust, VoxVal - that last pair havent actually got a VA either-), 2) Are TOXIC and theme around abuse or sexual harassment but it’s ‘cute because gae’ - NO. This makes gay people look really bad when they’re not. 3) HD and SL focus on one sided, stalkerish, cop out ‘tsundere’ excused ships to sugar coat the creepiness which only further fuels bigotry, 4) SL has MERCH on it now, so thats also profiting on sexual harassment imagery (again, dont give a shit they arent real - the EFFECTS are. The people who can relate ARE. The people being horridly stereotyped ARE). Thing is, the IGs originally were there to promote ADDICT which started as a fan song anyways despite everyone saying how Viv is stubborn in her ways an uninfluenced by her fans (proof says otherwise) yet shes allowed a fan song to be canon. Theres a focus on forced love for fanservice. The IGs have long outstayed their welcome. The Val account allows glamourisation of the sick shit Val does AND entinses fans to bully as they forget a REAL PERSON runs the fucking account, Val isnt even a scary villain either - hes just a big teen like everyone else - stuck in a teen drama with all this. Pimps are smart. Theyre scary. Theyre masters of manipulati- HOW DO THEY NOT DO THE RESEARCH?! Viv wanted this sense of realism and dealing with sensitive topics in one of the worst executed ways Ive ever seen- It’s toxic. It’s dangerous. These are shit messages and your fans display that when they think all criticism is ‘hAtE’ and actively bully real people w REAL EXPERIENCES. Telling them to ‘stop pls’ does fuck all because you still promote shit messages straight after. Like with Stolas to Blitz in a IG story a day after Ep 2. Classy. Fanservice seems desperate to keep these fans (rather than market correctly... Just like YanDev) and it leads to fans feeling like they have the audacity to steer the series. Poor business with WEAK boundaries. Viv, you lost your series a long time ago. Want it back? LISTEN TO LEGIT CRITICISM. Stop surrounding yourself with yes men. Even my best fucking friend calls me out when Im out of line because a real friend will fucking take the chance of hurting your feelings if it means helping you in the long run and grow. Mick joked about the inside of Husk’s ears matching Angels coat, that the ears are cat’s most sensitive and vulnerable parts. 1) Cats vulnerable part is their tummy - hence why you need their trust first (alternatively yer get the odd cat that has full confidence they cat hurt you a lot faster than you can tickle them - I own one), 2) Its weird that Viv doesnt know this considering how many cats she has - its important to learn the language of those you love to give them your full understanding and a great bond 3) This romanticises sexual harassment more than it already is in the media (remember, theres women out there still murdered for saying no!) as well as reinforces the stereotypes of gay men forcing non-interested men into sex (again, a very toxic and unrealistic trope - a dangerous one thats led to gays being murdered!). And the ears design is unnecessarily overly complex considering those fuckin wings he supports. If the design adds nothing to the character but aesthetic, then it can go on the chopping block. Rules for simple animation. Besides from Angel sharing the same tooth as Val (who knows if that was added after he started working for Val as branding?) you could use this argument to say Pent or Al are soulmates for Angel because of having striped suits, or sharp teeth - no, it was intended as a joke that Viv fueled to irresponsibly because it’s not the first time she’s dodged publicly addressing something (something youll NEED to get used to in a big company), and she’s publicly dodged shit after this too so Im not putting faith in her until she can act professionally as the job requires. Likewise, professionals should consider what and how they joke as they’re presenting an image of a company/business. And people WILL eat that shit up face value regardless. In her stream #2, a fan requests for art of flustered angel and smug husk to fuel their ship. at 2:10:21, she does so. She’s also done this for Baxter x Niffty and Cherri x Tom. As a professional, you really should be avoiding this sort of thing in the name of fanservice. I get it, fanservice = financial gain. But it also results in empty meaning. It’s a shell of what the passion project once was, hence why you make the ENTIRE skeleton before involving others. The team help construct the muscles, tendons and organs. The public - moreso critics and the more experienced in those fields help sew the skin. Then you bring it to life, the fans become like blood. They aid to keep it alive. Even Ash and Mick mention Husk being ‘tsundere’. Im had most my piece about it earlier, however I’ll repeat and add some extras. Tsundere is an exaggerated personality, often used in younger characters. In terms of a relationship, it’s very immature, leads to poor communication and results in a toxic love. Science can back this up as well as the lack of realism. It’s more immature minds/hearts that go to what they interpret as tsundere in hopes of the love life the media portrays. A farce. Y’know what Angel needs? Someone open, honest, open to love and comforting. He doesnt need someone rebuffing and him chasing. It’s nothing more than an immature thrill. Once the love begins, it’s burns out QUICK. It’s far from sustainable or healthy. It’s not what either really need and further show Angel’s fixation on men who subconsciously remind him of his father. It’s not healthy. Another thing is a tsundere actually IS interested but shows it in the most immature and childish means possible. Would a really old bloke actually give a shit to play those sorts of games? No. Not one coming from a place like husk has. It’s painful how lacking in research and experience these people are. Science backs up that opposites solemnly attract also. In fact, they often either repel or only get as far as friendship. Fan and Team Mentality in Brief: Im coming out with my ultimate pet peeve: if you’re going to have one of the MAIN characters be a gambler, do your research. The only background shit is a casino, LOADS of sex references (in Pride? Really?) and drugs. It’s like someone listing what they think is adult and tabboo and naughty. It’s yikes. Cards are almost always aces, 2s or blank. MOST are heart suits (like we need MORE red - we get it, it’s hell. But it’s an immature larvae stage hell). I get 2s and aces being easier to animate, however you have Husks wings, the entire of alastor, angels arms - if youre busting the budget for the menial then bust it to the cards. Theres like ONE spade. The full house isnt a full house (here’s a display of the fans lack of education on the matter as well which serves as a sure sign that they know just as little on any of this as SpindleHorse, they think it’s a sign on him being a card cheat. A card cheat. I aint saying hes not but what I AM saying is poker professionals are some of the most observant people in the world. Especially when money’s involved they’ll ensure youve got your facts right. That wouldnt fly at ALL. But theres more~ fans think Husk spent loaaaads of time staring at angel’s face in the IG poker out of <3 Newsflash. When you play poker you read EVERYONE like a book. Every little twist and twitch of the features. Its not about love. It’s about winning. Its about money. Play enough poker and it’s instinct if you want to actually play decently. Call bluffs. Life aint a fuckin romance.) And playing Poker at a BlackJack table? In a casino? These are all common knowledge and basics if you just research. And this is coming from someone with a history of this. The fans even believed Tipsy Bartender’s ‘Peach Princess Cocktail’ was something Spindlehorse made as a beverage form of Niffty, Angel and even Charlie because of the name. Now, Im not expecting everyone to be a fuckin boozy either, but to not even consider it’s a very real drink does show that many fans are far too young for that 18+ label. Fanart of HD often has Husk being OOC OR being held hostage (often via webs - one even being reblogged by Viv, aint that cute!). Some even have Husk completely intoxicated, which would be rape. Im not sugarcoating it. Because too many are getting the sweet treatment and copying Viv’s ‘dont address and it disappears!’ tactic - A LOT of internet celebs do it. The ship is drawn a lot by the team in the public eye, Viv reblogs it publicly (SL, HD, alongside canon only ships, how curious-). Husk is pan yet doesnt behave as the stereotype. And Id FULLY support this with my fucking SOUL (fun fact: you cant sell a soul. Thats myth to scare people-) if it was done correctly. But the way bisexuals, lesbians, gays and aces are portrayed so stereotypically (even Pan in terms of Val’s sexomania), it’s really REALLY uncomfortly coming across as Husk being pansexual JUST to make him an ‘option’ for Angel. Hell even the hets are given a shite representation. Some art btw has husk tricked into a kiss. Cute, we’re really starting to like blurring consent aint we? Remember, Angel has celeb power in his world. In the real world, he has a following. HE has the power in the ship massively. Hell, fans JUSTIFY Angels behaviour and absolutely rip Husk a new shithole if he fuckin even so as to DARE OPPOSE ANGELS MUCH DESERVED LOVE! - sarcasm because I have to make that shit clear now. Fans dont care about Husks feelings, he wasnt even popular until this ship started to explode. Y’know what would be cool and break stereotypes? An old straight white guy actually accepting his friends sexualities. The pan thing feels really fucking gimicky and exploitive and gross based on the history of all this shit. It feels disingenuine. Representation doesnt come from it just being there. What next? Katie whips on blackface to further show shes a bigoted knobhead whos white and straight? Dont get me wrong, Katie’s an arsehole but theres other means to show this rather than ALL HETS HATE THE BIG GAE. They dont. They really dont. But hey, we’ll show a gay man sexually harass every guy and root for him! NO. Thats fucked up. It makes gays look like the predators theyre not. It’s like the fucking 50s with modern tech - is that the real identity of Vox? Fuckin maybe. WHAT THEY NEED - FUCKING FINALLY, ITS THE END IVE BEEN ON THIS SHIT FOR DAYS WHILST SICK LUCKY ME EH? CAN YER FEEEEEEEL MY TIREDNESS OF FANDOMS AND CREATORS EXCUSING SHITTY THINGS FOR CLOUT, MONEY, FAME AND OTHER DUMB SHIT? IF YOU CANT, THEN WHAT THE FUCK, AND OTHER NEWS: Right. Lets get our main shit. Compatibility between the pair is really low - lower than even the team seems to see. And yer old fart of a Hag here’s gotta use my personal suffering as an example because thats what the cool kids do, right? Their friendship compatibility is high. VERY high. But low for love. HEALTHY love. In terms of convo flow, it only has a river when insults are flying, otherwise Husk actively cuts Angel short or outright annoys him. In reality, someone like Husk would gross out Angel, but the cute cat look can turn that the fuck around - JUST the look. Fans and the team oddly think it’s cute though. Yes, I remember being negged at the bar and thinking “BOY arent my pants flooded like the fuckin planet when the ice caps are melting”. There’s no click. Theres infatuation and lust one sided based on looks. Husk isnt even remotely interested and no means delayed yes apparently. Angel as a rape VICTIM should know better than to blur consent like this. Angel isnt a rapist [for the skim reading raging stans ANGELS NOT A RAPIST, YAAAAAY!] but he sure has a shit grip on when he’s looking like Val when Val forced Angel into a kiss by not accepting rejection. It’s. CREEPY. Its fuckin weird. Husk is literally named after being a shell of his former self, I doubt random sex and forced interest is gonna make him spring to life like bastard Zeberdy from the Magic Pissin Roundabout. Honestly, sexual harassment and addictions are treated the same in this - a joke. A punchline. A gag. Sure makes me fuckin gag. Nah, the more healthier Chaggie relationship (needs work on Charlies damn part - dont let freaky taxidermy men sexually assault your life partner like that) is booooring, lets focus on sexual harassment leading to true love like all the other shitty romcoms shall we? Or sugar coat it with ‘getting to know them better <3′ like Beauty and the Beast. A story, by yours truly: My mom’s mates with this woman. Lets call her M because her name starts with an M. M is just like Angel except slightly older, overweight and disabled - so not everyones cup of tea visually (shes neither here nor there to me imo, not like I hold interest in shaggin her). Like Angel, she fuckin flirts with any ANY man around her. She’ll even touch without consent, rub allllll up and down their backs and bodies, and not leave them alone. She even did this with a few gay men. Shes not a horrible person BUT mom and I are constantly trying to stop her and get through her head how DISGUSTING this treatment is. But nothing gets the message across. Shes ALWAYS talking men and sex and has an on/off fling with this one bloke (dont worry, hes the male M, cheats and does the same as her). Everyone, even women, are uncomfortable with this. Irl it’s desperate and a HUGE repellent. Men are visibly SO uncomfortable. She does it to my father too who is - in case youd forgotten - MARRIED TO HER BEST. FUCKING. FRIEND. My father is not a man of fear (and interestingly, hes one of the real life Huskers I know!) but this woman? *insert Heavy bc why tf not* She scares him. My dad does everything in his damn power to pull away, reject, resist, avoid and cut her off. The only reason hes even nice to her at all is because mom likes her (when M isnt a gross hornbag, shes genuinely a good friend to my mother - much like angel and Cherri). My dad’s strictly banned from insulting her or telling her to fuck off from my mother BECAUSE of her nature with him. Even at her non horny times, he’s even said shes not his flavour. I’ve had numerous accounts like this myself (ask any woman-) but the worst was the guy thinking - THINKING - that Id eventually be his whilst he played up a lot of our similarities up, seemed nice and I actually thought I had a good guy friend (put it this way, Im genuinely scared of men because of guys like this). At this time, there was a character I discovered who looks and behaves SO much like me, and shes married. My simping arse for this fictional BEAUT [Im sorry but Iris is fucking awesome] compared her romantic traits towards Olgerd as something Id do - and this was a STATUS. It wasnt even too him, tagging him, nothing. I was just spamming Iris like the Iris whore I am, and... Yep. Ill be honest and say that God only knows what else I did that made him think I was ready to rip off my clothes and shag him. My post history back then showed Im like this when I find a character I relate to. I also send hearts a lot publicly and to friends to express joy - I get NERVOUS how that’ll be taken now. He tried to pit my ex friend and I against each other for him and even cyberstalked us pretending to be a girl named Raven. My GUT told me this aint no bastard ‘Raven’. The vibes he gave me, and the fact when I kept saying no he took it as a delayed yes (He even said “Ill wait for when youre ready” not “I understand and am happy to still be friends”) gave me literal nightmares of this guy tracking me down and raping me. He’s currently dating that ex friend (I was still willing to be their friend and support them but they said it was hard to keep us separate in her lifes and she didnt want conflict, so I cut it off amicably with her and I fuckin hope he treats her right. I even sensed in my gut she’d like him and he’d like her - even that theyd be good together! But then I found she was 17 and he was 10 years older, that he was cyberstalking and pitting us against each other, that he was secretly an arrogant fuck and that he gives off red flags like her ex’s - but shes passed 18 now and I want to trust her as an adult that she can deal with this. Shes got a good family.) As a kid, Ive been fuckin groped at school in my shitty neighbourhood. One kid even harassed me wanting to know if Id started my periods yet. Hed constantly fondle girls and ‘keg’ them aka yank down their skirts or trousers in public, and 2 years later held a fucking KNIFE to my throat in a classroom with the shittiest substitute teacher, all because I stood up to him (I was not known for my bravery at school so). He was harassing my female friend who suffers from it since as well as her upbringing, bullying her and stealing her stuff. Shes TINY. She was bullied just as bad as I - who was somehow both the school ghost AND pariah somehow- - and I stepped in and told him to cut that shit out before snatching her things back. I told her to ignore the desperate prick. Thats when he took a boxcutter and held it to my throat, threatening me to keep my head down. Now my neighbourhood fucking qualifies as the British ‘hood’ but Id been lucky to avoid this. Ironically, I wondered what this situation would be like a year prior. Im convinced I can fucking foresee bad shit now and with anxiety that aint good. I froze mentally and I just said “Wooow, Im fucking scared- *friends name*, ignore him” and continued my work. I fucking mentally kicked myself for speaking but I genuinely didnt know what to do. Obviously not fucking that. He sat the full TWO HOURS at our table with this knife, jolting forward mockingly and switching who he pointed it at. The knife btw was from that very room as it was graphics and art. Teacher didnt even notice though honestly Ive had an entire class throw shit at me and call me a whore and the teacher in that class looked at me and TURNED AWAY. End of the day, I reported it to my actual graphics teacher when he returned and he told me he’d take this higher up and to get my parents. My home was only 5 minutes away but I had to walk alone when most the students were gone AND through a fucking alleyway. I always walked with my head low but that day I kept it high and tried to look brave because I genuinely thought he was waiting for me. That he was going to rape and kill me because he’s a pervert and Id just discovered a fucking violent one at that. I broke down at my door. Do you know how fuckin hard it is to look your parents who are dealing with two cancer patients and other issues in the eyes and tell them their ‘little girl’ had a knife to her through for standing up for herself? We went back, I described everything and even remember the yellow-orange handle just to get this kid punished? I even wrote an official police statement (well, the written witness account they add to their statement and evidence) and had to speak on mine and my friend’s behalf because she was that shook up. I never even used to speak for myself! He got expelled, but yknow what us jolly folk dealt with? Hearing kids and his mates mumbling about the ‘rat’ and how much of a cunt they were. Teachers and kids praise him for his art skills and even pin them on display EVERYWHERE (one - ONE - was a fucking self portrait and none of the staff seemed to find issue in that) and even an occassion where he came back into the school when he legally wasnt (trespassing). Do you know how hard it is to fucking avoid someone without raising suspicions from everyone around you in a narrow corridor? Im TALL too. I got NO support from this and felt on edge because he could easily sneak into school. I couldnt say shit because his stupid ‘spies’ were about. Just typing this is upsetting enough- I also know a rl Angel who’s like him minus the sexual harassment. She’s... I never used to like her and visa versa but we actually get along really well now, even though she can be creepy and perverse- But she wouldnt be my type either nor I with her. Often we really fuck each other off but we can also bond great. Another incident reminds me of Husk’s candid photo. Ive had people keep my photo despite me saying not to however I had someone SOMEHOW at that school one the fuck up that. There was a cut out from a magazine of a lady who looked like my DOUBLE except she was asian. Now I thought this was cool and it made me feel sorta pretty. This one girl showed everyone and the teacher, pretty much everyone was like “Oh shit that really is you, C!” and it was harmless fun at first. Until I wanted the picture. Again, this woman looked EXACTLY like me. Yet this girl refused and said she wanted to keep it and even carried it around in her pencil case. Yes it wasnt me but due to the similarities, this photo was called me (tbf the fuckin pic got more respect than I did-). This isnt the only creepy instant between me and this girl but the photo reminds me of it. And this tops people keeping photos OF me which happened in primary school. This was me but legal at that time. And asain. It was super fucking neckbeardy the way she treated this photo and stared, often stroking it and looking at me. I just hope she was only trying to scare me. Theres one final instance of a sexual assault but Im just not yet ready to be public about it. 2 here already know. Those are some of my rl experiences and more to come (unfortunately) that show these behaviours in real life. It seems - it comes across - that sexual harassment, MORE SO TOWARDS MEN, is seen as some punchline and not something legitimately horrifying or dangerous. It’s not cute. It’s fucking FAR from it. Ive already mentioned how putting two addicts together can lead to relapsing, dependence on each other in an unhealthy way. And Ive even mentioned what Angel needs in a relationship in the RD post. Luckily for you, I’ll copy and paste it here: “ We need to think about where both are mentally. What benefits would a relationship give both? How would they be good and bad for each other? For Al, aside from his outdated views and being a fucking murderer and narcissist, he actually seems in a good mindspace for a relationship IF he opted to be in one. Angel however has a very immature mindset, likewise is in a phase of life where hes bed hopping. IF he were to be in a relationship, I’d say he needs a male equivalent of Cherri - someone with a similar mindset yet some differences, willing to have fun and in touch with their younger side, down to cuddle, open to share and receive love as well as not afraid to publicly be affectionate with him, someone who sees him as more than just for sex, someone fun, someone who’ll let him embrace his cutesy side publicly without shame - Cherri is younger so maybe someone who’s his age or slightly younger perhaps? I think Angel’s not retirement home ready to settle and needs someone on his level that can cuddle and chill as well as feels free and youthful enough to go wild with him. In one sense, he’s got a teen girl sorta mindset (dont put him with a teen though, it’s fuckin weird-). He needs someone positive and raw, someone to let him be himself as well as someone comfortable to be themselves around him. He has a habit of latching onto unobtainable men (in psychology, this is self sabotaging subconsciously): Travis the client, Val a pimp, Husk (emotionally unavailable and needs HEAVY self work - interestingly far more than Angel - plus he’s still onto his last relationship and an addict to gambling and alcohol), Pent who’s the enemy he was currently fighting (inappropriate timing), Alastor who’s not interested in another but his own needs [selfish, VERY bad for a relationship]. Subconsciously he’s self sabotaging on purpose. There’s many psychology books as well as sources online for this, if you’re interested. Either way, Angel is drawn to men either like his father [who dislike him, shun him, or are otherwise cold, abusive or just blatantly dislike or otherwise dont care about him] or anyone with money to fuel his drug addiction/’debt’ to Val. Going with any of these men isn’t a good idea. Preferably, Angel needs someone who he doesnt immediately crush and obsess over. Someone who he doesnt sexually harass or assault. Someone he can build a connection with quickly that can bud into romance (think how Chaggie started as a friendship which clicked immediately). Maybe even someone he doesn’t expect to fall for but does so anyways. It would be more realistic as Viv wants as well as more healthy. That for once he isnt sex or money craved instantly, thus doesnt sexually harass/assault and is given a proper chance to develop and grow a friendship and love. Someone who isnt an addict. Someone with an on-par mindset where they click. Someone open to love. For any chance of a good relationship, Angel needs to be with anyone BUT who we’ve already seen. There’s too much toxicity that’ll be swept under the rug and justified otherwise. Too much shit to fuel homophobes in terms of gay stereotypes. Even though Ive focused a fair bit on Angel, it’s NOT just about Angel. That’s something fans forget. Some he depends on or someone who depends on him in the long term wont last and will be very dangerous to both. Just because you suffer, you dont then deserve to be rewarded with ‘something nice’. You dont get to have everything youve ever wanted. Giving him any of these blokes [minus Val] gives him a pass. Gives him what he wants. I get Viv loves him but life doesnt work that way. True lasting growth comes from learning that. Acceptance and growth. You dont get everything you want and sometimes thats a GOOD thing. He’s not a spoilt kid who gets everything he asks for, he’s YOUR creation. If you really wanted what your creations deserve then you need to research and be realistic with it. Because hes starting to feel like a shitty Gary-Stu at this rate.” Sorry for that copypaste clusterfuck. Copy paste is not my forte lol Now Husk. Remember Big? Probably not after the info overload, but if you do GREAT. Big needed love, patience, understanding, someone who could help him, someone who understood and respected his boundaries. I spent so much damn time and now he cuddles up and exposes his tummy because I make him feel understood, loved and safe. He NEVER purred or meowed (why would he need to meow when he didnt speak to humans?) but now he does. He lives on the streets of a neighbourhood with rough folk. He used to draw blood and go rabid on my arms. But I was patient and showed him that I understood his reasons but that he was safe with me and had no need to strike out. I never pushed his boundaries let alone doing it multiple times (the rl angel I know is fucking skilled at pushing cat’s boundaries and wonders why they all huddle up to me and avoid her lol). Husk is an unavailable man. Romantic/Sexual love does NOT heal his wounds. But thats the only thought fans and the team have given on his side. He needs love to ‘fix’ him. The WORST reason to get with someone. Theyre not a project and you arent a fucking miracle worker. Treat them as an equal. He needs a good friend. JUST a friend. Like Big, he needs patience, trust, understanding, and extensive help (arguably more intense than Angel’s). He needs to love himself a bit more FIRST. Someone who respects his boundaries INSTANTLY. Someone relatable and similar, open to love not just sex and not as troubled (if they are, they need to handle it way better, healthily and overall be in a good mindspace). Viv can ship whatever the fuck tickles her fancy, but once your passion project becomes public and funded, you have set responsibilities on how to address and handle sensitive issues as well as having to accept criticism. If Husk goes sober in the name of love (ESPECIALLY with the guy not respecting his boundaries and sexually harassing him), then it’s a fucking INSULT to alcoholics. I know a few rl Husks but there’s one that anyone who knows me enough knows the man I hold closest to my heart was an alcoholic and spitting of Husk. That’s why Husk’s character means so much to me. But there’s only 2 here who know a bit more of this man. This is something Id hoped to not share so soon, nor as messy. And Im already getting waterworks because this is FAR from easy. I guess Husk became the very thing *I* needed in order to face this. This man was my grandfather. WAS. I cant even fucking accept that. I was a fucking child. I feel stupid being so open about this over some stupid cartoon but it just shows the real life effects this has on REAL fucking people. This man was old and lonely. Always at the pubs. He taught me card games, card tricks and card magic as well as one of his own sons dealing with a gambling addiction. I feel so fucking stupid crying about this- I dont want to open up but its the only way I feel I can get people to understand my side in all of this. This man was a fucking MESS. A closed off, lonely, grumpy old bastard. He lost his love because of his alcohol addiction and never found love again. Never got over that woman. (Shes still kicking and we’re close - im keeping some things under wraps between them as its not my place). Gave up on life and love. Worked hard at his fixation on cards and puzzles, as well as crass jokes and knowledge. But he was very lazy otherwise. Bitter and angry. And you know what? He was my world. I love this man with every fiber of my being because he was the first person to love and accept me for me. He treated me as an equal and helped me grow as a person. In fact... He was only ever happy around us kids. He had hope again. Protected me. He used to hate gays and blacks and you know what? He taught HIMSELF as to why that was shitty thinking. He taught ME about differences in people and to accept it. He taught me that you dont always have to understand to accept. He taught me poker and... swears admittedly. He was a beautiful soul that was broken inside. He needed to love himself. But you know what actually fucking happened? You know what I watched as a kid? I watched as he smoked until every morning he woke throwing up phlegm just to BREATHE. I watched as sometimes the light in his eyes died and through smoke breaks and early drinking how he’d sometimes slip and show me his pain. And we’d have deep talks about it and the world and everything. How alcohol ruined his life yet he craved it. His scent. I remember arguments I wasnt supposed to overhear and growing up seeing him fucking DIE slowly in a hospital bed. The man he was ended up as a fucking husk. His skin was bloated and purple, he was half machine on how much shit he was hooked up to. How he was barely a man at all. He was dying of cancer and he fucking knew and never told us. His cancer meds gave him horrid hallucinations. And I practically spent most of my time in that hospital because TWO people had cancer. Two stunning people had fucking stupid bastard cancer. He was a fuck up. He was flawed to shit. But seeing glimpses of the real him was a fucking ethereal experience. He made me feel like a PERSON. And all we could do in the end was watch him just die. He WANTED to die and you could see it but hed only eat around us to fake fight out of his own hubris and not wanting to let us down. That year, I watched 2 of the only people who ever gave a shit about me die the most dishonourable deaths God could have gave them. Years prior I watched his son gamble EVERYTHING away - his lover, his house, his everything. Hes a moderate gambler now with a partner who never had a history of any addiction. She helps keep him in line as he helps her. But most nights I fucking dream of this shit. I cant even think about my hero because I fucking weep. I still have nightmares. Im still up thinking how I could have saved him from himself when it’s him who was the only one able to. I have to live my life with those memories and I was just a kid. Im a full woman and Im still haunted by it. Even that year is blasphemy and I fucking hate it. I want to take him in my arms, hold him and tell him he’s enough. That its ok and he can get through this. Anything that reminds me of him, I love because I know the other side. The real side. The side not tethered to vices. When I see people like that, I pray they see themselves like that too and I want to help them see it. Tell them that they can live again. It’s better than fucking decaying in a hospital bed. That when people make this sorta shit into a cute quirk it’s not. And it’s dickheads like me who have actually seen it play in the real world to REAL people they love. They arent a fucking accessory to fix for your own narrative. They arent a fuckin performing monkey. At least with Rick and Morty it’s kinda humorous and never played for some shitty toxic ship to appeal to everyone who’s never had to face that shit themselves. And Im like my old man but with more hope and no addiction. I drink and I gamble but I’ll never let myself get that low. Because I honour him but Im not as fucking saft. I wont allow it even though it’s a fucking battle. Those addictions are in the blood. My family history. Its always been so fucking normal. I’ll never knock someone for an addiction or try to preach them out of it because theres often pain fueling it, but I’d never encourage it or toxic faux cures and stupid romance promises as some bullshit MLM remedy either. I KNOW it’s fiction but I want people to see the real side. I want VIV to see the real side. Id willingly for FREE fucking sing that shit if it meant spreading a good message. Because this is fucking hell. FIXING IT: The ship’s basis is too set in stone now - too familiar to change. Best is to never let it be canon. Because you know what else it teaches? That rOmAnCe cures all. Not therapy. Not rehab. Not any REAL work. Just fuck and date it all away as if it’s that easy. It’s a mockery! I tried to be professional about this but when the media bombards this shit constantly, the has the AUDACITY to play like it’s giving a good message is salt to the wounds. A kiss with a fist. An old man dont care for the petty teen drama that Angel and Cherri (even fuckin Al) thrive on. Want this to send a good message still? Angel hates rejection and thinks everyone wants him. Have Husk reject him. Especially because no one should go out with someone whos sexually harassed them there. Been there, done that got the fuckin tshirt. Have Husk reject Angel the way Gravity Falls has Wendy reject Dipper. It helped Dipper move on and mature, and this is what Angel needs for growth and to be more humble. Husk would be a fucking excellent mentor to Angel, a friend and protector, someone who shows him the ropes like Grunkle Stan like a grandfather figure. To not fall for his mistakes. Husk would be a better expert than any of them plus it balances the power dynamtic. It’s healthy and realistic. Touches the topic with the sensitivity it needs. Not everything needs a ship or romance. Wounds healed that way dont stay healed long. Angel seems more fitting as a son like figure, and he can play that dad like role for him. And if any of the team EVER saw this, fucking take this idea. Its YOURS. FREE. FOREVER. If we wanna play this NDA but still reblog some of the story telling arts and have some of our team indulge in it. I wont sue. Fucking TAKE IT if it means doing this shit right because Spindlehorse have beautifully triggered so many different people and their different traumas to please teenagers sexual fantasies, their own kinks and for a jolly good joke. This is a bastard long read and Ive had to face the traumas again but if good can come from it then I’ll GLADLY dance this duet again. Stans, Antis, dont even TEMPT interaction. You arent brave sending suicide threats behind a screen, youre a coward and a waste of oxygen. I WANT Hazbin and Helluva to succeed. I want Viv and her crew to do well. Trust me, I wouldnt waste my time if I didnt give a shit. Viv is fucking gifted and its being wasted if it’s not at her full potential for the approval of a rabid army of kids and immature adults who dont know any better (stans and antis). I know she would like a good and decent fanbase. Stans and antis arent it. Tagging you folks because it’s long but yall actually helped me have the courage to open my trap to this. Screenshots are coming later though all of what Ive said is easily sourced. But this has been days, Im sick, im tired, ive been upset facing my own traumas. If any tags wanna help then by all means but otherwise. @honesthazbinarchives, @siaesnow (also added age still bc despite the lack of physical aging, theres also the mental aspect and experiences as well as power dynamics side to it, in case youre wondering), @noirellearts, @enchantedchocolatebars, @galemalio (thank you for letting me weep like a bitch), @angel-blitz, @critical-hazbin, @what-the-hazbin, @hazboobhotel, @pineapple-critiques-stuff, @devils-advocutie, SORRY AGAIN FOR BEING A LIL BITCH FOLKS, I feel awkward like my teen years but yeah- fuck it Im old and imma rot soon anyways. If this experience can help then Ill be glad.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #anti huskerdust sorry folks #vivienne medrano #criticism #toxic relationships in fiction #how fiction impacts the real world #yeah im a wimp who cares?#hazbin needs to change for the better #concerned fan #dont be another yandev #dont be another yansim #stans and antis dni #stans and antis will be blocked and reported #hope this gives justice to my hero about the rl effects of addiction #rest easy Kiddas got this #still shitting myself #read more wont work sorry

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lesbian-dp · 5 years ago

Text

Royally Fucked

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,271

Warnings: Misogyny, frustration, bath sex, strap on sex... p sure that's it.

Request: Yah.

Summary: The Queen will always be your world.

A/N: Just an FYI this is obviously set in the medieval times, so the reader is pretending to be a man, bc they’re a Knight. Just wanted to let you guys know that.

18+ ONLY.

“-A woman cannot rule on her own-!”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, near enough seeing your own brain, before you tuned out the dull drawl of the aged man.

His Royal Highness. Howard Stark. A pompous old git, who rules his kingdom with an iron fist. The man, who was currently ranting in front of each kingdom’s officials. All because, he was trying to wed his son, for his own selfish greed. And you. The Queens General and secret lover had to be there to witness it.

“I’m sorry you think that, you Highness.”

Ah! There she was.

A small smile tugged at your lips, hearing her husky voice.

Glancing out of the corner of your eyes, down to where Natalia sat regally beside where you stood.

God.

She was gorgeous.

How you ever got so lucky, is beyond you.

Her red layered dress, lined with the finest gold thread, the world had to offer, pushed her soft perky breasts up. Giving you a fantastic view of them, from where you stood above her. Your agile eyes were soon drawn to her plump, moving lips. Watching Natalia’s plump, moving lips. Watching them intently, remembering the look of them clasped around the crystal toy strapped around your hips. And the way they felt gliding across your wet core. How soft they were against your own lips. Moaning into your mouth, in a telltale way of what was about to come undone.

Spoiler alert! It was you guys!

Realising you had probably been staring at her beautiful self for minutes too long. You repositioned yourself, placing a hand upon the hilt of your sword, and staring blankly at the wall of the meeting room, in front of you. The door within your eyesight, able to see any and all newcomers, should they arrive.

“However, I would like to remind you of which of us are in their bankruptcy.”

“How dare you-?!” His face grew red with rage, light grey moustache and hair clashing, terribly, with the raspberry hue it had taken on.

“Watch your tone while you are speaking to the Queen,” you ordered.

“And I’d watch your tongue!” the King argued back.

Natalia placed her hand gently upon your leather-bound arm, just as you opened your mouth to shout a reply. Glancing down at the red-headed Queen, she shook her head, and you knew to hold your tongue.

“I’d rethink about who you appointed to be your head Knight. They’re obviously lacking in some basic training.”

“With all due respect, your Highness,” Natasha began, an entirely fake smile drawn upon her face, “My General is of the highest order. They live by the highest standards. And I respect them and their opinion. I can’t help it if you expect everyone but yourself to watch how they speak.”

“Now, General?”

You turned to face Natalia. “Yes, your Majesty?”

“Would you be so kind, as to personally escort King Howard from the castle. I think we have all heard enough for one morning.”

“It would be my pleasure.” You gave her a half bow, before moving towards the infuriated man.

***

Huffing, you slammed the door to the quarters the Queen had “gifted” you with. Reasoning that it would be better for her safety, if you were close by, in the castle. The royal quarters being only a few doors down from your own.

You kicked off your dirt-covered boots, as you threw your ornated sword across the room, and into the wall, in frustration.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice.”

The voice to your side made you snap your attention to it. You knew that voice. You loved that voice.

There she sat.

The Queen.

Her legs were crossed, hands folded upon them. Watching you from her place on your bed.

“That sword was very expensive. And a gift from myself, if I might add,” Natalia said, the corner of her lip up turning slightly, as she cocked an eyebrow.

You sighed. Taking a step towards the red-headed Queen, you said, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

She waved you off.

“I don’t care about the sword,” she said, “I care about what has gotten you in such a foul mood,” Natalia finished with a pout.

You knew how bad she wanted to make you feel better. How much she hated seeing you any other way, but happy.

“They’re incompetent fools.”

Natalia smiled at this.

“The Trainies?”

“Oh, no!” You shook your head. The memories of your day, attacking your mind. “Not just the trainees- If anything, they’re better than most of the men we have now.”

The Queen stayed silent as you spoke. Listening to you intently, her face the only give to any reactions. Namely being a tick of an eyebrow, sometimes even both, and a roll of her eyes.

You drew closer to the beauty that is the woman you have devoted your life to serve. And now to love. However secret that may be.

“I swear. If we ever have the unfortunate luck as to be thrust headfirst into a war... I am afraid we might not survive.”

It was quiet for a moment, as the Queen debated her words. Right now, she was not Natalia, your Natalia. The woman who told you she loved you at the dead of night. The one who called out your name during the throngs of passion. The one who was soft to touch. Who’s skin was perfectly smooth against yours.

No.

This was the Queen.

All business, and took no shit.

The woman who did what she had too for the good of her kingdom, to keep her people safe.

“What do you need?” she asked, finally.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, now only a step away from her, “Time?” you asked simply. Before breaking out of your stress-induced trance. And closing the distance between you and Natalia. Placing a gentle, but firm hand upon her shoulder, you said, “But let’s not think about that now...” You leaned down, to be eye level with her. “I want to spend some time with, my Natalia.”

The Queen smirked at what you called her, it quickly turning into a soft smile.

“I think that can be arranged.”

“Good.”

And with that, you lifted the shorter woman up into your arms, beginning to make your way out of the room.

“Now, I think, after the long day we’ve both had, we deserve a bath.”

***

The water was a milky white, red rose petals floating upon the calming water. The same water that swayed with every movement.

Gasps and moans filled the air, as the wet red-head bounced upon the blue crystal that was almost always strapped against your hips.

You said because it helped in making people believe you were one of the opposite gender. But mainly it was because of how much you love the availability to take the beautiful Queen, whenever, and wherever you two so wanted.

One of your bedchambers.

The throne room.

The dining room.

A random palace hallway.

Hell.

Even in the royal courtyard, if you so wished.

You watched Natalia’s silky wet body move on your lap. The water gliding against her body, her hair wet, and nipples pert. With your hands on her hips, helping her chase bliss. Then continuing to slide along her glistening body, pulling her closer to you.

Natalia panted as you left open-mouthed kisses all along her neck, them travelling up to her cheek, and finally her full lips.

With your arms wrapped tightly around her, one around her smooth shoulders, and your other around her waist. Pressing her against your body, as you kissed her earnestly, pouring everything you felt for the queen into that one kiss. Natalia’s arms wrapped around your neck, as she fucked herself onto you, kissing you the very same way.

“The bath’s starting to get cold,” you mumbled against her mouth.

“Then we should hurry, so that we can go to bed.”

“To sleep? Or...?” You rose your eyebrows. Once. Twice. To convey what you meant.

“Or.”

You smiled brightly at her.

Your lips were around her nipple in the very next second, sucking with enough power to make the Queen cry out. Causing her to buck her hips into your lap, faster than ever. Riding you like one would upon a station, on a long journey. Chasing her realise.

She jumped back in surprise when your hand connected with her small bud, rubbing away at it, but she soon continued to drive the object deep within her “sinful” hole.

It was not long after when she cried out in pleasure. Throwing her head back and crying out to the Gods.

Once Natalia had recovered, merely breathing heavy, with her head tucked into the side of your neck, you spoke.

“Let’s get to bed. Huh?”

***

Sat upon your calves the royal silky sheets rumpled beside you. Natalia’s legs thrown over your hips, and your hands gripping hers. Rutting into her. Drawing out her beautiful sounds.

How the powerful Queen could be reduced to this, you did not know.

You were only thankful that she chose you to reveal this secret side of herself too. Knowing how closed off she was to the world. If she even showed a thread of emotion, like she wanted too, on many occasions, other than her cold and calculated, yet caring self. The surrounding kingdoms would be out for blood.

More than they already were, that is.

“My lord, Natalia,” you husked, “You are beautiful.”

And she was.

She was beautiful, no matter what.

But right now, she was especially stunning.

With her hands gripping yours on her hips, her flushed chest rocking with each of your thrusts. The sweat, and remaining bathwater, making her body shine like the sun. Her mouth parted and gasping, and her eyes heavy-lidded.

You could go on and on about all the things you loved about the woman below you. For an eternity if you could. However, you were in the middle of something, as Natalia reminded you.

“I’m all yours, Y/N,” she spoke softly, “No one could ever compare to you.”

“Nor you, my love.”

Your hands on her hips tightened slightly. Helping her to lay in her stomach, Natalia moving to grip tightly on the silky pillow, pressing her face against it.

Her legs straddled tightly against yours, ass in plain view. The crystal resting on Natalia’s slick, wanting heat.

Groaning softly, you spoke, “There are no words in this world or the next, that could convey how much I truly do love you.”

The Queen hummed softly at your admission, her shoulders moving, and then relaxing with a sigh.

Your hands gently brushed down her silky back, until they reached her ass, caressing the plump asset.

“You were crafted by the God’s,” you said, adoration clear in your voice.

“Then why don’t you make me see them?” she replied, smirk upon her face, as she wiggled her ass to tempt you. The toy rubbing against her core.

And she did tempt you.

Of course, she did.

Pressing down on the crystal, you watched as it steadily disappeared into your loves throbbing head. Natalia moaned, as inch by inch, it vanished within her. Brushing against every crevice, drawing her high-pitched whines when it hit the special parts within her, bringing the Queen utmost pleasure.

With your hands now on her ribs, you slowly started to thrust into her. Working in drawing moans from her.

“Oh, God!” Natalia cried.

“Can you see them yet?” you asked playfully.

“Not quite,” she replied, matching your pants, as she backed herself u onto the toy you fucked her with.

“Guess I’ll just have to go harder.”

The bed was creaking below you, as you worked harder to pound into the woman you loved. Natalia's grip on the white pillow, patterned with red, tightened as cries poured from some unknown place, deep within her.

“Fuck! I love you, baby!”

“I love you, too, Natalia.”

She was close. She was oh so close. You could feel it every time you moved. Every time you pulled the crystal from her depths, only to push it back in, with vigour. It getting harder and harder to do.

“You’re close,” You stated.

Natalia nodded vigorously in agreement. Going to bite against the pillow.

“Don’t do that,” you told her, “I want to hear you, when you arrive.”

At your request, Natalia unclenched her teeth and allowed the pleasure-filled noises to pour from her mouth.

One of her hands snapped to one of yours that lay on her ribs, it surely leaving light bruises in their wake. Gripping at your hand, as she got closer to her much-anticipated release.

You couldn’t pull your gaze from her pleasure-filled face. Her hair sticking to her forehead, and around her ears. You knew that this would be her last orgasm, for a little while.

Pressing kisses against Natalia’s neck, jaw, and cheek. She came with a powerful cry. The hand not holding yours, came to grip the back of your head, fingers sliding through your hair, as her insides tightened around the toy.

You let her ride out her realise before you pulled from her.

With a tried sigh, you flopped down on the luxurious bed, besides the blissed-out royal.

“How you doing there?” Natalia nodded at you. As to say she was okay.

She came to cuddle into your chest.

Your hand was combing through her slightly damp, sex mused hair when the Queen spoke.

“I think it’s about time we came clean to everyone, about our relationship.”

“What?” you asked, shocked.

“Marry me.”

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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spinchip · 5 years ago

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zane 4: I don’t think I can do this anymore.

A/N: accidentally write 2.3k of zangst...

He’s been getting worse.

Cole knows he’s not the only one who’s noticed, and he knows everyone is trying to do their part to coax Zane out of the husk that came back from the Never Realm, but the jarring reality is that nothing they’ve been doing is helping. At first he could barely stand to be in the same room as them all, cringing away from the cacophony of noise and sound, casual touches overwhelming after centuries in isolation. It had hurt to see him withdraw so quickly from them, but he still hung around one on one or if they were in smaller groups. They had to be patient, it’s not like he could just snap back from something so deeply traumatic. They shouldn’t have expected him to be okay.

But he just kept getting worse.

He rarely comes out of his room at all, he can’t bring himself to train- his own ice has him flinching, and he fumbles with his bow and shuriken, too out of practice to use them properly. Sensei Wu had gently suggested he try a bo staff or a podao and Zane had left training half a second after he’d touched one. He hadn’t come back for the past two weeks. He seemed out of place in the kitchen, stumbling over things he used to do with ease, unfamiliar once more with the place he’d practically lived in for years. He didn’t even cook anymore, or play chess, or read- anything he used to find fun he’d abandoned, even turning down video games and birdwatching with Pixal. He just… sat in his room, or on the roof of the monastery, or in the grass just beyond the gate and did not much else.

Pixal sat with him sometimes, trying to get him to open up, but he never did. Cole had walked out on her several times sitting in the hallway outside Zanes bedroom door talking quietly, locked out and begging him to let her in. The others tread lightly around him, trying not to spook him away when he comes out on his own, trying to avoid thinking about how tired he looks. He moves like each act is a chore, lifting his arms to get a glass of water as if his arms were weighed down with concrete, his shoulder slumped with exhaustion.

Two days ago the ninja were called out on a routine mission, some stragglers from the SOG still hanging around had gotten rowdy. Ultraviolet had escaped prison and had rallied a few into a few petty acts of crime in the street- the Ninja were barely necessary, but they were called out on every SOG round up, just in case. It should have been easy, maybe a little bit of a fight with Violet, but a refresher. Cole was almost looking forward to something to break up the monotony.

And then Zane had almost killed her, and things had gotten so so much worse.

It was like he became a different person on the battlefield, using his ice liberally and with a recklessness Cole had never seen from the nindroid before. He froze a few gang members up to their waists, ice crawling up their legs so fast they couldn’t fight it. Ultraviolet either couldn’t tell or didn’t care about the change in him, taunting them all. It wasn’t until she landed a hit on Nya that things got scary- Zane was across the battlefield in an instant, laying into her like it was the only thing he wanted to do. She dodges most of it, but the strikes that hit home were strong enough to put her to the floor. He froze her there, up to her waist, trapping her forearms in thick blocks of ice so she could only wiggle her shoulders to try and break free.

Then he raised his open palm towards her head, and she was laughing and taunting but her voice stuttered and died when she saw the look on his face. Detached and cold, empty, and deeply haunted. Frost swirled around his fingers, and Cole was struck with the awful reality that he’s about to execute her, I can’t watch this-

Cole lunges but Lloyd is faster, slamming into Zanes side a second before ice shards explode out of his palm. They miss Ultraviolet by a hair, smashing into the asphalt next to her hand hard enough to break it, big ugly cracks spreading out across the pavement, and the woman before them looked like she had never been more scared in her life. Her eyes blown wide, her face even more ashen as she looked at the place where the ice shattered the road- that could have been her head.

Zane comes back to himself, jerking away from Lloyd even as he tries to chase after him, gasping at his wrists and offering hushed comforts that Zane doesn’t seem to be able to hear. The entire street has gone eerily silent, watching with wide-eyed shock as Zane almost murders Ultraviolet. Frost starts inching out of the ground where Zane steps, patches of ice crawling across the street, and when he turns away from her and looks across the other SOG gang members- they put up their hands and surrender without any more fight, afraid of him.

Zane turned and ran, racing back to his vehicle and disappearing without a word, leaving them all to deal with the aftermath.

As Cole uses a pick he’d conjured out of earth to chip Ultraviolet out, she looks at him with those spooked eyes and tries to be cocky and uncaring again, “I thought murder wasn’t your style.” she shoots, When he doesn’t respond she asks, more subdued, “Do you think he was really going to kill me?”

Cole isn’t lying when he says yes.

Zane beats them home, obviously, and he locks himself in his room. Each of them take a crack at trying to get him to talk, or just come out for a second and let them see him. Lloyd gets him to at least talk through the door and reassure them he’s fine.

“He says he needs space.” Lloyd had reported back to them all, expression pinched.

And then it had been radio silence the past few days. He wasn’t coming out for anything, holed up in his room and hiding from them all. It was Kai that heard it, yelling for everyone else to come back to Zanes room- a crash, apparently. The sound of something breaking, and now Zane wasn’t responding. They all called through the door, worry spiking with each progressive minute, and Kai was the one who made the decision to force their way in.

It wasn’t something made lightly, but they just… needed to know he was safe.

The lock breaks out of the frame easily, and when they all pile in it’s pretty obvious that Zane left. His mirror is smashed in, a big dent right in the middle, spiderweb cracks spreading out across the rest of it. Jay walks up to it and puts his fist right in the center of it all, looking back at them with deep sorrow when it fits perfectly.

Nya motions to the window, “it’s open.” She says softly, “You think he’s out there?”

A heartbeat passes, “Let me go talk to him.” Cole says before Pixal can volunteer, “I… I’ve known him a long time. Let me try.” Before Pixal and Lloyd and Kai and Nya, before even Jay, it had just been Cole and Zane for a really long time. He knows Zane better than anyone.

Lloyds mouth twists and he doesn’t look happy about it, but he nods slowly.

Cole hoists himself up and out the window with a good deal more trouble than he’s sure Zane had, stupid skinny nindroid, who is nowhere to be seen on the other side. He sighs a little, running a hand through his hair with discontent, and turns back toward the monastery, squinting up at the roof through the darkness. He can’t tell from down here, but it’s honestly the most likely place he’d have gone to hide. He climbs up the wall with little difficulty, hauling himself up on top of the roof and flopping down on his belly. He rolls onto his back and sits up, looking around to catch a certain Nindroid smiling tiredly at him a few steps away.

“Very Graceful.” Zane offers, which is the most Cole has heard him say in nearly a week.

“I get the job done.” he comments, scooting across the roof to sit next to him, “You worried us. We heard your mirror break and then you didn't respond.”

Zane is quiet for a long time, “... How badly is my door broken?”

“Nothing a little work won’t fix.” Cole sighs, looking over at Zane.

It’s hard to explain, but he’s… lost something. Some spark of life or optimism. All he is now is tired and hurt and worn in a way Cole is familiar with on an intimate level, but his own funk had never been this ongoing. His time as a ghost had made him want to... to give up, but he’d come back. Zane wasn’t coming back.

“What do you need?” He asks and when Zane looks at him, even the blue of his eyes is dull and faded, “What will help, Zane?”

“I don’t know.” He says honestly, “I just… I don’t think I can do this anymore.” he looks up across the expanse of stars twinkling in the sky, eyes distant.

“Do what?” Zane doesn’t answer and Cole leans in, resting a hand on his shoulder to ground him, “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

It’s something they’ve all said to a certain degree a thousand times before, but maybe he needed to hear it a thousand and one, or maybe it’s gotten bad enough that he finally realizes he needs to talk before it gets any worse, but when Zane looks at Cole again he knows this is a turning point. Whatever he says next will change things.

“I don’t think I can be a ninja anymore.” Zane basically whispers it, barely managing to push it out past his teeth, a truth he’s been harboring so deeply within himself it took getting to his darkest moment to admit it, “i’m sorry.” he adds, face starting to break as the reality of what he’s just admitted catches up with him.

Cole shakes his head, “Don’t- Don’t apologize, Zane, you have nothing to apologize for.” He swallows down his own devastation, the idea of Zane not being a ninja anymore is- is heartbreaking. He doesn’t want that, to go into battle without his calm presence by his side, and almost immediately he feels his stomach roil at his own thoughts. Selfish.

“What I did in the Never Realm- I can’t forget it, it’s all I think about here, it’s all I know. Pain, death, devastation. Everytime I put on my gi I think about hurting people again.” He confesses, voice strained and hushed, “Everytime I call my ice and I feel that rush, I can't remember what I stand for. I just want to use it. On anything. And when I come down all I feel is guilt and shame, and when I look in the mirror all I see is a monster- I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to be here anymore.” he breaks, tears running down his face, biting his lip to stop himself from talking any more.

“Then don’t.” Cole reaches out again, taking Zanes other shoulder and turning him to face him, “Stop being a ninja- go- go out, see the world, remember what you love about life and about Ninjago. Remember what you’re fighting for.”

Zane looks at him with wide wet eyes, a new light flickering there, something soft and aching. It’s as if Cole has given him something, a new hope in the permission to leave.

“We’ll be here when you want to come back, be it just to visit or to stay. We’re your family, we’ll support you through whatever you need.” Cole pulls him in close and Zane accepts the hug, twisting his fingers into Coles gi desperately, “Just be sure to send postcards, alright? And- and any fancy candies that we don’t get here in Ninjago City.”

Zane laughs and it sounds watery, but Cole doesn’t mind if he cries because it’ll cover up the sound of his own tears.

In the morning, Zane quietly tells them all that he plans to leave, and they understand. It hurts, and no one’s exactly happy about it, but… they understand. If he needs to go, if space and time away from all this will help him heal, then by the first spinjitzu master they’ll be the ones to help him pack. He politely refuses Pixal and Kais offer to come with him and they take it with as much grace as they can. He sits with Lloyd the longest, breaks it to him the gentlest of them all, and Cole gives them as much space as they need to talk it out. Lloyd doesn’t have the best track record with abandonment, and this will be the hardest for him to grasp, but he does.

They will all let him go, even though it will be hard. There is no party, no celebration, just a quiet dinner that Zane makes himself, a few heartfelt goodbyes, and then Zane is gone.

The first postcard is a family event, it’s sealed up in an envelope with pictures and a letter to them all. He’s found a therapist to talk to over his Borg cell while he travels, he’s safe, he’s optimistic, and he misses them all greatly.

With it comes a little box, for Cole written on a small tag, and it’s filled with candy.

#spinchip fic #yeah i went hog #ninjago #ns11 consequences #kayyeh1

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sinfuldclights · 3 years ago

Note

Which HH cast do you ship Baxter with?

On god okay-

Husk x Baxter: Grumpy and prickly muses who are absolute softies around each other? Sign me up. They both would have a great understanding of each other’s boundaries and be content in comfortable silences. Baxter is incredibly interested in Husk’s ‘magic’ and at first tries to figure it out but then he just,,,, sits back and enjoys. Husk would find Baxter’s attitude a good blend of energetic enough not to irritate him but enough to get him to care about something other than alcohol.

Seviathan x Baxter: Has the potential to be a jock x nerd ship. I mainly go off my own headcanons for Seviathan for this, but I am a sucker for this type of enemies to lovers dynamic. Baxter being annoyed yet so so so so so so so curious over Seviathan’s powers and biology, and Seviathan finding Baxter’s company different than his usual crowd is something that I would love to explore.

Angel Dust x Baxter: Two emotionally damaged souls who deal with the way people have treated them over the years in very different ways. They’d most likely be a bit emotionally stunted, and they strike me as the type to take things slowly and get used to each other. Baxter would be good for Angel because he can remind Angel that love doesn’t have to hurt, that love is something that can be beautiful. Baxter also wouldn’t give a shit about Angel’s looks or his reputation. He’d treat Angel as a person, rather than a legend. He’d treat Angel as an equal, rather than someone to worship or disdain. Baxter also doesn’t provide the kind of sugary sweet perfect kind of relationship filled with toxic positivity and surface level, he’d be very real with Angel want to talk about things that are going right and wrong. And his compliments and praises are always real. I can’t speak much for Angel on Baxter due to him not being my muse, but from what I can see from Angel is him giving Baxter love that he hasn’t experienced before. Angel is social, Baxter is not. He’d be able to drag Baxter out of his isolation and let him see the world again with a renewed vigor. Sorry this one got long bc it’s more complicated-

Alastor x Baxter: Ooooooo boy. Okay let’s unpack this overstuffed suitcase. I don’t think that Baxter would try to change Alastor. He wouldn’t want him to be this upstanding good pillar of society. He would know fully well what he was getting into, he would know exactly the type of person Alastor is. And he would be okay with it. He wouldn’t try to do some bullshit ‘I can change him’ routine. No, he’d love Alastor for himself, flaws included. He’d also respect Alastor’s boundaries, and take the relationship at Alastor’s pace, which I would imagine have lots of ups and downs. However, he’s not going to be an absolute pushover either. He’s no pawn. He refuses to be a puppet. He’d challenge Alastor, put him in his place and outright state when he’s tired of Alastor’s shit, when Alastor oversteps his limits and boundaries. Plus, he’d be able to challenge Alastor intellectually as well. They are both very smart, and I can’t picture Alastor with anyone who can’t match his wits in some capacity. Alastor would provide Baxter with something he secretly craves, something that he has never gotten before. Acceptance. Alastor wouldn’t condemn him for his studies or try to stifle him. He’d fully encourage Baxter, probably even getting him the organs. Also, they both disliked being touched when they’re not comfortable with the other, so there wouldn’t be an illusion of pretense.

These are my current ships for him among the Hazbin Hotel cast. However, this is roleplay. It largely depends on the roleplayer, the situations, the chemistry, and many other things such as plotting and interpretations. So while these are ships I’m interested in, I am always open and even encourage the exploration of other character dynamics and ships! Not to mention all of the fabulous OCs out there! So yeah! This got long, but only bc I like to answer this kind of shit in detail since I rarely get to talk about it since I kinda feel selfish if I talk about my ships bc like I don’t wanna push anything- but yeah! Thanks for tuning in!

#heaven bound | ooc #long post #blinded me with science | baxter

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robodaydreamer · 5 years ago

Photo

RadioHusk Week - #2 To Love A Dumbass

I meant to write a drabble and my hand slipped.

I’m sorry.

[ EDITED 4/5/20 ]

I want to do a drawing for every fic, it just takes my dumb butt forever to do anything. Forewarning, this was done at 2 am, so it might be a bit jumbled? I edited what I could to fix it. I hope you all enjoy!

To hell’s general population or the few who knew of him, Husk was a lot of things. Temperamental, apathetic, tired of everyone’s shit... the list could go on, but he liked to think he was a pretty simple guy.

Uncomplicated and easy to understand. You leave him alone, he’ll leave you alone. You get on his nerves, he’ll probably claw your eyes out. Maybe. If he actually had the energy for it. A fair trade if you asked him.

And he didn’t ask for much. To most, he didn’t like to be bothered, he enjoyed card games, he depended on alcohol to get him through the day, and he had a fondness for magic tricks.

That last one was a little-known fact to their small group of misfits. The hotel’s residents didn’t need to know about it. The only reason any of them had even found out was because of Angel Dust challenging him to a card game.

He was more than a little drunk at the time. Hah, he’d been fucking plastered.

Kicking that fluffy arachnoids ass was just a bonus. While he never doubted his own hand, being that uncoordinated never usually ended well for him. He tended to keep to himself when he was at his worst.

He was surprised he even agreed to do anything at all instead of telling that perverted walking stick to shove off! Even more surprising was as trashed as he’d been, he was still apparently unbeatable.

Husk wondered if he had an ace up his sleeve… and he didn’t even have sleeves… or wear clothes.

Yikes. Did bow ties and tophats count?

Hmmmm… wait. No. He wasn’t doing this to himself again. It was hard enough accepting he was an overgrown catbird. He’d leave this complicated crap alone. Besides, trying to wear clothes over fur was a pain in the ass. Not to mention extremely uncomfortable...

Lucky streak aside, Husk won whatever bet they’d made. He couldn’t quite remember what it was since he’d been blackout drunk, but he knew Vaggie had enough blackmail on Angel to get about a week’s worth of good behavior out of him.

That alone had made this whole thing an even bigger victory. The only problem was that with his drinking, while his gambling was on point, his mouth… wasn’t.

Plenty of sinners gave away personal information when they were drunk. People did it while they were alive, so it wasn’t an uncommon thing down in hell. The only problem was where it ended up… or who it ended up with.

Long story short, he’d apparently let Angel Dust in on his appreciation for magic and had even shown him a trick or two with his cards while they were playing. He couldn’t remember jack shit, but it was possible.

How else would Angel have found out? The only other demons who’d know would be Alastor or Niffty and he doubted Alastor would randomly share something as insignificant as this. He may have a thing for pushing Husk’s buttons, but he didn’t think the other would just throw that out into the open without any context.

Actually, he probably would.

Either that or Niffty spilled the beans… she liked his coin behind the ear trick. She made for a great audience, even when she had to stop him to sweep up his stray feathers or dust the furniture in his room. He wasn’t a total slob, but he was rarely in his hotel room to begin with, so it wasn’t really his top priority.

Like right now. He could clean up the broken glass next to the bed, but he wasn’t going to. He drank often enough, so hangovers rarely bothered him, but sometimes even he overdid it.

His tolerance was absolutely phenomenal. A blessing and a curse. On the one hand, he could enjoy his booze and watch his drinking buddies fall over after a few shots of the hard stuff. On the other hand, it was tougher to get buzzed or even just flat out drunk if he wanted a quick way to escape his own mind.

Last night had been one of those times and he absolutely went overboard. The hangover he was nursing could definitely attest to that. If the pounding in his head grew any worse he’d probably die. Again.

With a sigh, Husk shifted into a more comfortable position, trying to keep his wings in mind. He didn’t need any other problems right now.

Speaking of problems, he hoped he didn’t do anything too stupid. How did he get back to his room, anyway? He tried to wrack his brain for answers, but all he got was a flash of white-hot pain radiating throughout his skull for his trouble.

This was the beauty of alcohol. It made you forget, even if it was only for a short time. He’d already made that mistake twice in one fucking day… One with Angel Dust, and the other with-

A knock at the door made him tense, the sound not at all helping his headache. Who was bothering him at this hour? Wait, what time was it? Shit… was he late for work? Most likely. He didn’t actually give too much of a shit, seeing as to how he worked seven days a week.

The only one it would actually bother was-

//BANG//

The sound of the door slamming open and ramming into the wall made him jump so hard his teeth clacked together.

A loud boisterous voice filled the quiet of his room moments later, “Ohhhhh Husker! Wakey wakey, my darling kitty cat! Your shift started hours ago, and our sour sinners are hankering for your testy temper. And quite possibly a beverage or two, but that is no concern of mine. Hahah!”

Husk groaned, curling into a ball. Maybe if he hid in his wings, the bastard would take the hint and leave. He was too exhausted to deal with this shit.

Of course, he wasn’t that lucky. Give him a deck of cards and you’d see him win the whole pot! But a radio demon that he just so happened to be in a relationship with? Not so much.

Hold on a damn minute… Was it a relationship? It was probably the closest thing to one. They never agreed on an actual title, but Alastor had been pretty pushy about them trying this… whatever it was out.

In fact, if he thought back to it, he hadn’t believed the guy at first, having been pining over said demon for years. Why would he come waltzing over to Husk, demanding him to be his significant other?

He’ll fucking tell you why. His own mouth betrayed him. With Angel Dust, he’d been very loose tongued thanks to his over drinking.

Alastor had come over to watch their game of cards, and by the end of it, had decided to poke fun at his old pal Husker.

He’d given Husk a round of applause for his card tricks, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he’d won the game and left Angel Dust flipping the table in despair. None of it mattered because it hadn’t been enough to fill Alastor’s endless need to be entertained.

He just so happened to believe that ‘drunk Husk’ was an absolute riot. He’d told him as much in the past.

Although, instead of the usual banter or wobbly cat behavior he would have normally provided, Husk decided to share an even more personal secret than his fucking magic tricks.

He’d told the cannibalistic serial killer he was in love with him.

And it didn’t end there. To make it worse, since he’d been three sheets to the wind, he ended up forgetting everything that happened.

Angel Dust finding out about him being a magician was fine.

Alastor finding out about his undying love for him?

Husk would sooner have jumped in front of an Angel on extermination day than to have revealed his feelings to Alastor.

When he’d found out about what he’d done, because of course the insufferable jackass had to bring up his mistake as soon as he was sober, he may or may not have tried to jump out of the nearest window.

That was a tough feat to accomplish considering his bar was on the first floor. Had he done it anyway? Well, he tried to, but the other put a stop to his attempt so he hadn’t gotten very far.

In the end, Alastor had told him he should’ve confessed sooner because they could’ve been spending quality time together. He may have spaced out after that due to his brain short-circuiting.

It was almost too good to be true.

Husk agreed to Alastor’s demands, feeling like he would’ve been an idiot to refuse an opportunity to spend more time with the demon that held his heart in the palm of his hand.

Should he have paid more attention to what those demands were? Hell yes. His impulsive decision left him with more questions than answers.

After all, making deals with demons was a dangerous game.

The lowlifes he used to play poker with regularly would’ve told him to suck it up and take the offer for what it was worth. Taking chances was their shtick.

Jerry, the cheating piece of shit, would have asked, “Why look a gift horse in the mouth?”

This was why. He had so many regrets.

Husk heard the tapping of hooved shoes making their way toward him and scowled from beneath his feathery shelter. If Al did what he knew he was absolutely going to freakin’ do, he’d give him the silent treatment for the next three days.

He’d say a week, but Husk would cave long before Alastor… He may like his space, but he liked Alastor more. The guy had a way of making him crave for his attention, even if the radio demon himself didn’t always want it in return.

Hell, Alastor rarely showed any interest in him to begin with. And no, having an interest in causing him constant aggravation did not fucking count. He was busy with the hotel and all of the ragtag tenants he got a sick pleasure tormenting.

It was hilarious. Honestly, it was, but he wanted more… It was selfish, especially since he fell in love with Alastor for who he was and not for some warped soap opera version of himself that he was sure plenty of demons daydreamed about.

Eugh...

Husk was guilty of daydreaming. He daydreamed plenty when it came to his ‘partner.’ Husk would be the first to admit he was a hopeless romantic… well. Maybe not out loud.

He liked the thought of tender touches, passionate kisses, and appreciative glances. Did he need them? No. Did the thought of them make his heart race? Fucking Christ, yes they did.

He knew Alastor wasn’t interested in any of that. It wasn’t who he was and Husk could accept that, selfish desires be damned. He just wished someone would give him a hint as to what exactly Alastor was playing at.

Was this something he actually wanted? What was he getting out of it? Why would he even bother with something he usually thought was so ‘tedious?’ He’d said so plenty of times to Angel and Charlie.

It’s already been a few weeks since they’d made this little agreement. Now that he was thinking back on it, it's almost been a month! You’d think he’d know the answers to all of these questions by now, but he was left in the dark when it came to Alastor’s intentions.

He was torn from his thoughts when a hand gripped his furry ankle and dragged him to the end of the bed.

Husk let out a warning growl to try and ward off the other from his oncoming attack, but it was useless.

Alastor only chortled in response and Husk felt the hand wrapped around his ankle tighten briefly before moving away. He knew better than to believe that was it. This was only the beginning.

He was proven right when his wings were forcefully pried apart, revealing him to his attacker who looked way too smug for his own good. “My Dearest Husker, why must you hide from me? You know, while I do love your volatile personality, I’m only here to help!”

Holy shit…

Had he actually fallen in love with this dumbass?

Husk sneered, the stabbing pain in his head only growing worse as he locked eyes with Alastor. “Help? How is this helping?”

He watched Alastor’s brows furrow for a split second before his grin stretched impossibly wider. “Why, of course it is! You would have missed your shift, otherwise. After all, your job is crucial! You’re the first face our lovely residents see!”

Sitting up, Husk felt his wings fluff up. This was getting ridiculous. He was hungover and more than a little unstable in the feelings department. Alastor was only making things worse, seeing as to how he was the main cause of his emotional turmoil.

He could start yelling and throwing a tantrum, but that would only amuse the bastard and leave him with an even bigger headache.

No. He had to catch him off guard.

Maybe he’d try something new… he had nothing to lose except his dignity and he’d lost that years ago..

Fuck it.

“I want a divorce.”

He felt a swell of pride at Alastor’s blank stare. So that actually shut him up, eh? Sure, this didn’t at all make any sense, but if he had to deal with Alastor’s bullshit, then the idiot was going to get bullshit thrown right back into his stupidly handsome face.

“Pardon?”

“I want a divorce.”

Alastor’s smile waned as his brows went back into a furrow, his head tilting to the side. “Husker, my good man… we aren’t married.”

Husk felt himself relax. Al’s voice had quieted immensely from his earlier shouting. He always had to project his voice, no matter where he went. This was a hell of a lot better for his head. He could already feel the pain lessen.

With a distracted nod, Husk huffed out, “I know. I still want a divorce.” He watched as Alastor’s grin strained, eyes narrowing as he studied him. He felt a shiver travel up his spine at the others searching stare.

Unsatisfied with what he seemed to not be able to find, Alastor released the firm grip he had on his feathers only to move those deft clawed hands behind his back. Husk was sure he was clenching them tight with frustration.

He couldn’t tell if this was funny or sad. He didn’t want to piss off his ‘steady,’ but he also wasn’t in the mood to be pissed off himself.

Looking at Alastor, he had to admit it was actually pretty damn comical.

“No.”

Husk blinked, feathered brows raising high in confusion. “What?”

Alastor’s expression morphed into a sharp smile, his glowing red eye’s staring unwavering into Husk’s. He seemed to radiate extreme disapproval. “No. We aren’t getting a divorce, Dearest.” His smile gave an irritated twitch.

Holy shit. This was unexpected. He hadn’t actually thought something like this would upset the overlord so much. This should be funny. He should be laughing…

It wasn’t funny. He loved Alastor too much to keep this up, but he also didn’t understand. Why was Al taking this so seriously? The radio host would usually have laughed something like this off or made an even bigger joke out of it… so why wasn’t he doing that now?

He really needed to get answers. If they were going to be anything they needed to start by finding common ground.

Mind made up, Husk stretched. If he was going to do this, he might as well be comfortable. He let out a pleased hum at every pop or crack he worked out of his spine. That felt so much better…

He glanced back up at his uninvited guest, only to pause. Alastor’s previous expression was gone. Husk wasn’t sure if he could put a name to it… but it was softer. Not a word he was used to using when it came to this particular demon. He looked downright distracted as his eyes traveled along the length of Husk’s body…

There was absolutely no fucking way this was happening right now.

He felt hope well into his chest, but he buried it down deep, he had some questions that needed answering. “Okay. We won’t get a divorce… we can still be friend-married or whatever. I didn’t think you’d take what I said so seriously...”

Alastor seemed to tune back in at the sound of his voice, his smile taking on a more satisfied curl. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind! A divorce, hah! How silly…-” He stilled, a record scratching sound following his abrupt pause as one of his brows raised in question. “Friend-married?”

He grimaced, “I do believe we have taken the next step in our relationship to a status higher than mere friends. Though I suppose that wouldn’t take away our actual friendship, I was hoping for a more committed type of companionship.”

Husk felt his jaw drop in shock. Hold the fucking phone, what?

Alastor didn’t seem to notice his surprise, carrying on with a look of distaste. “Honestly, Husker… friend-married? Is that a word young folk are using these days? Taking two separate terms and mashing them together?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at the thought. “I miss the days where words were used more appropriately.” Another twitch of his wide grin. “Besides, why crush words together when you can crush skulls?”

Husk gave a hard blink, his tail thumping on the sheets behind him. Holding up a clawed paw, he cut off the other’s rambling. “You… Do you seriously want to be in a relationship with me? You’re not just pulling my leg for a laugh?” If he was, he’d kill him. He’d probably be the one killed, but he would die trying.

Alastor’s confusion was palpable at this point as he tilted his head for a second time. “... I do believe I asked this of you before we began our partnership, yes. Besides, I may have just literally pulled your leg a short while ago, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I would spend so much time doing all of this just to cure my boredom..."

Husk felt like he was going to pass out. His heart was hammering so hard he thought it was going to beat right out of his chest.

He was serious. Alastor wasn’t doing this for a laugh. He was actually interested in some form of relationship with him that wasn’t just friendly or work-based.

Holy fucking shit what the fuck?

Husk’s ears were swiveling about, his fur was bristling, his tail was curling, and his wings were poofing out. He wasn’t sure what kind of fucking response his body was having to this unexpected situation.

Was he confused? Was he flustered? Was he offended? He had no clue because he was feeling too much at once to comprehend a single thing.

He was able to stutter out a rushed, “Me? You want to be with me? Of all the demons in hell, you chose me?”

Alastor gave a slow nod, regarding him with a curious gaze. “Why waste my time lavishing affection on just anyone when I can focus my attention on one demon in particular?”

His hand rose from behind his back, cautiously reaching out towards Husk only to let it hover in the air between them as if he were worried about spooking him. He continued, “And who better than one whose company I enjoy… and one who I am so very fond of?”

Husk couldn’t fucking believe this. Alastor liked him. Alastor liked him to the point of wanting to be with him. Not just to terrorize him to get a reaction out of him. This whole time. This whole god damned time he could have been getting to know this crazy sonofabitch and here he was, wasting his only chance to do exactly what he’s wanted to for fucking years because he couldn’t just get over himself.

Husk shrunk in on himself with a horrified gasp, “Oh no. I’m the dumbass.” Before Alastor could question him, he ran his paw down his face, groaning out, “This whole time I thought you were just doing this because you were bored. You like pissing me off to the point of me ripping my own fur out!”

His wings moved to cover him back up, he couldn’t bear to look at the demon in front of him anymore. This was too embarrassing. “I’m a fucking dumbass.” he muttered dejectedly.

The room was quiet for a few moments. Hell, Alastor could have vanished and he wouldn’t have been able to tell from beneath his feathery cocoon. This was amazing and awful all at once. He was an idiot, but he was a happy idiot.

He jumped at the feeling of gentle hands resting against his wings. He felt them hesitate before they began to caress him, palms moving in long even strokes. When Husk didn’t move to pull away or stop him, Alastor began to alternate between petting and running his claws soothingly through his feathers.

It felt nice…

Husk felt himself begin to relax, not at all realizing how wound up he’d actually been. This was ridiculous. He needed to get a hold of himself… well. Maybe after a few more minutes of Alastor touching him like this... Alastor was comforting him. Would this ever happen again?

He really hoped so.

“Husk?” He felt his eyes snap open at the other’s hushed voice. He’s never heard Alastor so quiet before. They’d known each other for decades and not once has Alastor gotten even close to speaking in a volume this low that wasn’t a sinister threat. This was a soft plea for his attention.

Well, if he hadn’t had it before, he certainly had it now. He mentally prepared himself as best as he could before he shifted, immediately mourning the loss of the other’s hands as they retreated from his wings to give him space.

Crossing his arms, he sat up and allowed his wings to part open, folding them down to rest over his legs and along the bedspread. Seeing as to how he’d let them drag across the floor plenty of times in the past, letting them hang off of the bed wouldn’t hurt them.

He glanced up toward Alastor, taking in his surprisingly patient smile and couldn’t help returning it with a smile of his own. Husk’s smile only widened as he grumbled, “You’re stuck with a dumbass for a partner. Hope you’re happy, ya wiseguy.”

Blinking owlishly, Alastor took on a more bemused grin. “Well… while there are several names I could call you, that one definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice. I prefer goofball!” He leaned down to get into Husk’s space, their faces only a few inches apart. “You’re a goofball, my Dear! But you’re my goofball.”

Husk was glad he had fur because he felt his whole body heat up at just how close their faces were. It was harder to deal with his feelings when he was able to see Alastor up close. And this was really fucking close.

Alastor took notice of the change and seemed to study him, though he’d probably been doing that the whole damned time with how stupid Husk had been acting. Embarrassing. Absolutely humiliating. He was going to pretend this never happened.

He was hungover. That was his excuse and... why was Alastor giving him that look?

Said overlord was giving him a large smirk, eyes lidded and teeth glinting from the minuscule light coming in from under his hotel’s door. His expression was one that told him he was about to get on Husk’s last nerve… he wanted to kiss that look right off his face.

Alastor closed the gap between them, purposely bumping their noses together. “My Dear sweet Husker. There’s no need to be shy! I had no idea you were so insecure. I’ll make sure to be more considerate of your feelings in the future.”

That little shit. He was teasing him! He had some fucking nerve.

Husk wasn’t about to let Alastor make fun of him. He was purposely trying to rile him up because he went all googly-eyed over him. It wasn’t his fault he fell in love with the guy! What right did he have to take advantage of that?

He made sure to give Alastor the stink eye and a very displeased noise that was definitely threatening and not at all pathetic. Okay, it was kind of pathetic. He was flustered, okay? It was tough to control his body when his instincts had a mind of their own!

Alastor beat him to the punch, making any thought of retaliation fly right out the window by gently nudging their noses together. “My Darling, don’t look so cross. I’m only teasing you!”

Hah, Husk fucking knew it! The bastard.

The radio demon moved to press his face into Husk’s neck, his shoulders shaking with his laughter.

Husk would have throttled him if he wasn’t currently trying not to combust. He was used to Alastor touching him, but this felt different. They were dating. It felt intimate when it really wasn’t. Was it? Oh shit…

Normally he’d push him away, but it suddenly felt like the wrong thing to do. As if this was a moment he shouldn’t… couldn’t ruin.

It was getting increasingly hard to not do anything, especially when the huffing breath against his neck was making him twitch. He was ticklish, and if Alastor ever found out he’d be screwed.

Okay, he had to move. He didn’t have to stop touching him, but he did have to stop chuckling into his neck. “Al, buddy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you gotta stop.” He leaned back, arms moving behind him to support his weight.

Alastor let him go, laughter dying out as soon as Husk had distanced himself. “Oh? Have I gone too far? Did I offend you?”

Husk shook his head, “Nah, not that you’d give two shits about offending anybody. Too far is never far enough for you. I’m just gonna have to get used to all of this…” He quickly cut the other off when he saw his mouth open to question him. “I’m not used to all this touchy-feely crap!”

Alastor gave him a wide-eyed stare. “I’m quite certain I touch you very often, my fine feathered feline. I’ve always been very affectionate with you. What is making this so difficult for you?”

Well, he had a point. “Okay, look. I know nothings actually changed. It just feels different now that we’re together. I don’t know how else to explain it… Like I said. I just have to get over it.”

“Hmmmmm… Righto! Then I suppose we’ll just have to get you used to it!” Alastor leaned forward, his knee coming up to rest on the mattress between Husk's legs. The mattress dipped at the added weight, bringing Husk up slightly.

Husk blanched, too startled to question what Alastor was doing as the overlord wrapped an arm around his waist. “Stay still, my Dear. We’ll solve this little dilemma of yours in no time at all!” As he spoke, his head came down to nuzzle his face into Husk’s chest fur.

This resulted in Husk arching his back to better accommodate for the body suddenly clinging to him.

Why was this happening to him? Was he being blessed or punished?

This felt an awful lot like a fucking punishment.

Is this what he got for being a dumbass?

Alastor's free hand moved to rest on top of his own. “Husker, my Darling… your heart is beating very fast.” He could practically hear the smug smirk in his sweetheart's tone.

He could live with it...

#radiohusk #alastor x husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #its longer then i meant to make it oh my god help me #i have work in three hours #what am i doing augh #im sorry this is so late #i posted this before i edited it

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jetsetlife138 · 5 years ago

Text

Imaginary - Chapter 6

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Warnings: Manipulation, Language, Awkward Situations

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88 @utterly-disappointing @opheliuva @trinswhimsys @skylarhedges @whogavebrynjolfpermissiontobehot @sailor-earth-1

After your tiff with Alastor, you stomped off to seek the solitude of your own room. Dealing with him was infuriating and confusing. He had a way about him where even though you couldn’t stand him, you sometimes found yourself craving his company.

Maybe you were a masochist. That would make the most sense for why you were so fucked up and had weird, conflicting feelings about the arrogant demon.

The next day when you returned to the library, you were not at all surprised to see Alastor there waiting for you. Before you could even negatively comment on his presence, he held his hands up in surrender. “My dear, I owe you the sincerest of apologies. My behavior has been abysmal, and I am quite ashamed.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his sudden change of heart. His grin widened at your hesitance. “I’ll admit, I’ve gotten carried away during our prior interactions. Let me assure you, I only have the best of intentions. I would like us to be comrades. After all, as previously established, we can help each other. I am still dedicated to helping you return to your world.”

“Whatever, Alastor,” you brushed him off, pinching the bridge of your nose, your patience lacking. “I really don’t have the mental capacity for this right now. Just… keep your pervy hands and weird opinions to yourself. That’s all I ask.”

His lips peeled back further to make his already creepy grin look even more sinister. “Of course, my dear. As you wish.”

You weren’t stupid. You’d be a fool to think that he was being genuine, but at the same time, he was one of the most powerful beings in Hell. As you had already concluded, it couldn’t hurt to let someone like that help you, even if he had selfish intentions. It was just a matter of not falling victim to his advances.

Yet again, the two of you hit the books, making yourselves comfortable on the couch. Much to your relief, he stayed on the opposite end rather than crowd you with his overbearing presence. Instead, he kept to himself, humming softly as he skimmed through the pages of the books, seemingly content with the tedious task of research.

After intricately combing through five different books on magical travel, your eyelids started to get heavier, no longer able to concentrate. Not long after, you found yourself dozing off, your limbs going slack as you unintentionally slid down on the couch until you were met with a cushioned surface, enabling you to soundly fall asleep.

It wasn’t clear how much time had passed. It could have been merely a few minutes, or several hours. Either way, you were extremely comfortable and didn’t feel like moving.

Unfortunately, a voice nearby caused you to stir, interrupting your glorious nap. “Al, you soft son of a bitch.”

“Good evening, Husker. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor’s voice sounded odd. Deeper and strangely close by, whereas Husk was clearly speaking from another part of the room. Still, even knowing that others were present, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the allure of sleep keeping you content.

“How long you been sitting here like this?” the cat demon snickered.

“Oh, it’s difficult to say,” Alastor sighed candidly. “To be frank, my friend, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation.”

Husk’s deep laughter echoed softly throughout the library. “So your aggressive approach didn’t pan out, huh? What a surprise. Always knew your bark was worse than your bite. Now you’re just a teddy bear.”

“Is there a reason for your visit? If so, I do wish that you’d just get on with it. I do not enjoy being mocked.”

“Settle down,” Husk prompted. “I’m not here to ruffle your feathers. I was coming to relieve you and help out the girl with research, but seeing as you’re so comfortable, I guess I’ll just be on my way.”

“Do not leave me here,” the Radio Demon warned, the static in his voice thickening with subtle rage. “Do something. Now.”

“You’ve slayed Overlords. You can’t manage to push a weak human off of your shoulder?”

“Husker.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, sensing Alastor’s tone. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

A firm pressure on your shoulder followed by an abrupt shake quickly alerted you to the situation that you were in. Eyes fluttering open, you tilted your head back to see that you had been pressed up against Alastor, using his body as a pillow.

You immediately shot up, giving yourself a head-rush as you did so. “Oh… Uh, Alastor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

At a loss for words, you felt your cheeks reddening with embarrassment as you glanced at Husk who had an amused expression on his face.

Quickly rising from the couch and stretching his limbs, Alastor brushed off your apology. “Think nothing of it, my dear. I am glad to be of assistance, and I hope that you are now fully rested.”

Okay, what the hell? Who was this new Alastor? He went from being perverted and possessive to kind and charming? No, something was off. There was no way that his personality could have changed so dramatically overnight, but now was not the time to interrogate him about it.

“Yeah, uh, much better. Thanks. I’m… going to go take a shower,” you muttered, trying to find any reason to leave the library immediately.

Before either Alastor or Husk had a chance to respond, you practically sprinted out the door and ran for your room where you plopped face-down on the bed and released a muffled groan. You were slightly convinced that you were dying of embarrassment and that was the real reason you were trapped in Hell.

Sighing heavily, you eventually got up and took a cold shower, washing away the essence of Alastor that might have clung to you when you laid on him. Shortly after, you dried off and walked back to your room, shocked to find Charlie and Vaggie waiting for you with concerned expressions.

“Um, hey?” you greeted nervously. “What’s up?”

Vaggie narrowed her eyes and scoffed while Charlie took a more delicate approach. “So, listen… we’re so glad to hear that you’re becoming more and more comfortable here, but…” she trailed off, not sure how to proceed and turning to her girlfriend for help.

Crossing her arms, Vaggie stated bluntly, “Don’t hook up with Alastor.”

Mouth agape, you struggled to find the words to convey your bewilderment. “Um, I’m sorry, what ? Why the hell would you say that? I have no intention of spending more time with him than necessary, let alone that .”

Rolling her eyes, Vaggie countered, “Look, it’s no secret that he’s taken a liking to you. He’s a determined little shit and he will try to charm his way into your good graces. His whole persona is based on his ability to manipulate. It’s just better to not get involved with him. If I had it my way, he wouldn’t even be allowed in the hotel, but what’s done is done.”

“Okay? What exactly does that have to do with me hooking up with him? You don’t think I have more restraint than that?” you questioned, still unsure as to why they were upset.

Charlie interjected again, easing the tension. “We’ve seen you with him and things seem to be getting very… friendly. Husk told us you slept with him…” Ugh, it was like Angel’s prior accusations all over again.

“ On him,” you clarified defensively. “We were doing more research and I passed out on his shoulder! That’s it! Listen, I don’t trust him any more than you do. You don’t need to lecture me about staying on guard. That’s all I’ve been doing since I arrived here.”

Charlie bit her lip and gave you an apologetic look while Vaggie’s expression softened a little. “We didn’t mean to ambush you,” Charlie added. “We just wanted to make sure that you were okay and that he wasn’t forcing you into anything. We’re still getting to know him ourselves.”

“No, it’s fine,” you replied, waving your hand dismissively. “I get it, and I appreciate it. I didn’t mean to come off as bitchy, I’m just… stressed, I guess.”

“Understandable,” Vaggie chimed in, no longer appearing as hostile as she did a minute ago. “We’re still looking for answers on how to get you back to your world, and I can only imagine how terrifying and crazy this has been for you, but we want to make sure that your head is in the right place. Stay away from Alastor.”

“You called, little moth?”

Turning towards the entryway, Alastor stood proudly, twirling his staff nonchalantly in his hands.

Growling, Vaggie snarled, “Do you really have to be here all the time? Don’t you have somewhere else to be? A seedy back alley, perhaps? Busying yourself with souls to torment?”

“Ha!” he exclaimed, amused by Vaggie’s unwavering disdain for him. “Darling girl, this is where my priorities lie for the time being. Fear not, I have no intention of interjecting into what I’m sure is a very fascinating conversation.”

“Then why are you here?” she snapped, flexing her fingers angrily like she was trying to hold back from choking him.

Widening his permanent grin, he turned his attention to Charlie before replying cooly, “It appears you have a visitor.”

“Me?” Charlie asked, perplexed.

“Yes, my dear,” he confirmed, resting on his staff that he had stopped fiddling with. “Your guest is waiting for you in the parlor.”

The three of you began to head towards the door to see who had arrived, but Alastor whipped his staff out in front of you, preventing you from going any further.

“No, no, no, darling. Not you.” Charlie and Vaggie didn’t seem to notice as they continued out of the room, leaving you alone with the Radio Demon.

Eyeing him skeptically, you asked, “Why not?”

He almost looked… nervous? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was an uncharacteristic look for him. Though his smile remained, his demeanor wasn’t his usual arrogant and unbothered self. “Believe me when I say that it is in your best interest to remain here.”

Worrying your lip, you replied, “Alastor, I really don’t think that it’s a good idea for you and I to be alone together anymore.”

Tiling his head to convey his confusion, he asked, “Oh? And why is that?”

Swallowing thickly, you muttered, “I-I just… um… people are starting to think--”

Before you could finish your thought, an unfamiliar voice was drawing nearer, distracting you.

“...permission to enter my own hotel? Foolish daughter. You may work here, but this hotel is mine, as is everything else in Pride Ring. Now, where is our exotic guest?”

Though he was playing it off well, you noticed how Alastor went rigid as the voice got closer. Listening more intently, you could hear multiple sets of footsteps along with Charlie begging, “No! Dad, please just listen to me! Don’t--”

Not a moment later, a strange, yellow-eyed demon burst through the door, beaming right at you, followed by a very nervous Charlie. Vaggie was nowhere to be seen.

The excited demon was taller than you, though not as tall as Alastor. He was as pale as Charlie with similar rosey cheeks and blonde hair. He was adorned with a white and red tuxedo with dress pants and a cane with an apple on the end. His toothy smile was just as wicked as Alastor’s, and left you with a queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Ah, there you are. Look at you!” he proclaimed before surging forward and taking your hands in his, pulling you harshly towards him.

You stumbled forward, tripping on your own feet but managing to find your balance before he danced around you, inspecting you closely. Quirking a brow at him, you weren’t keen on the idea of someone looking you over so intimately.

Catching you off-guard, he suddenly reached forward and cupped your face with his hands as he ran his thumbs across your cheeks. Instinctually, you smacked his hands away, just as you had done previously with Alastor. “Seriously? What is it with you demons and lack of personal space?” you snapped, now seething with irritation.

He stood back, clearly surprised by your tenaciousness. “Feisty, aren’t we?” he chuckled, fiddling with his bow tie before straightening his posture. “Oh, we’re going to get along just fine. I can see that.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied with exasperation. “Who are you?”

Smiling wider, he answered, “I’m Lucifer, the King of Hell, my delectable little human. And you’re coming with me.”

#hazbn hotel #alastor #radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie magne #vaggie #husk #hazbin husk #the radio demon #imaginary fanfiction

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luminescentlyricist · 4 years ago

Text

🧡 Autophobia 🧡

AUTOPHOBIA - NOUN - An irrational fear of oneself ; an intense self-fear that is groundless.

Dirk had never been all that emotional, but this was the last straw. He was breaking day by day, teetering on the edge of snapping the carefully constructed mask of apathy he'd worked so hard to maintain. Even before Derse had exploded, there were days where he couldn't slip away into the dream planet. Then, whenever he could - without Roxy there, without having her snoring company - the whispers of the horrorterrors seemed loud enough to deafen him. He'd never told anyone about it. Not even Dave. There were truly no words appropriate for the situation, and it muddled up his thoughts with stupid emotional biases to consider.

He sat in his living room, a hunched-over gargoyle, unmoving and unwilling to move. The larger-than-necessary television screen in front of him blared music, but his own brother's sick beats weren't enough to shake him from his literal and metaphorical slump. For all he knew, it was midnight, but he felt detached enough that he'd disregard the ebbs and flows of tiredness until he blanked out and crashed. Sometimes, his mind and body alike couldn't handle the strain. This was one of those times. Dirk's muscles ached in protest of the awkward position he'd decided to rest into, and as his neck craned downwards - being physically unable to keep his head up any longer - the iconic triangular shades he always wore slipped from his nose.

He made no move to retrieve them. Despite feeling disproportionately vulnerable without them, the Strider barely cared. All of his windows were covered by thick black curtains anyway, the otherwise invigorating sunlight nonexistent.Nobody wanted to visit, anyway, as Dirk was sure they were all sick of each other's company after so long. He was all too used to being alone and looking after himself, so the group's self-imposed isolation period shook him a lot less than it did his peers. He noted that he had been invited to a group board on Trollian - his chat client of choice, as it turned out not to be exclusive to the trolls - but, once again, made no effort to raise himself from his slump.

John had also messaged him, but they had barely spoken. All he knew was that the 'windy boy' was one of his brother's friends.

Dirk's uniquely-coloured eyes slipped closed after a while of vacant staring. He no longer heard the music loud enough to shake the walls. The only thing that met his ears was the low, steady thrumming of his own heartbeat. It was disorienting, yes, having everything fade away, but he was adjusted to solitary ventures and feeling so alone that darkness felt more comforting than seeing.

He'd been wondering whether or not to give Hal a more physical form because he'd been able to salvage the AI from the 'corpse' of ARquiusprite. It felt somehow immoral - even by Dirk's largely skewed moralities - to keep the shades locked away, even though it was to prevent them from tormenting him or driving him to increasingly long periods of sleeplessness. The truth was that Dirk held an emotionless facade as his brother did, though his lack of understanding was left exposed and unmasked in contrast. But he was fragile, as prone to breaking as anyone else was. Hal was an enigmatic being, more than enough to shake him up.

It was haunting, realising just how strangely he had acted when he was younger. How stupidly, how naively. Taken away by his emotions, loud and brash. Was that just how thirteen-year-olds were supposed to be? As detestable as the robot was, he was a reflection of who Dirk had been and who he never wanted to be again. A reminder.

Finally standing, a small groan escaping his lips at the pain of his now-stiff body, the Strider thought. He didn't really know what to do, but never bothered to engage with his friends despite the annoyance of the notification light blinking. Travelling to the fridge with habitually light, wary footsteps, Dirk opened the door and took out a can of Orange Crush. He consumed so much of the stuff it was a wonder his teeth weren't stained. The cold drink seemed like snow - not that he personally knew what it felt like - in the way its coolness slowly spread through his hands. He needed the sugar to snap out of his daze, as strange as it seemed.

The tab of the lid scratched abrasively against his fingers when he attempted to open it, and he cursed aloud, hearing his own voice for the first time in what seemed like an aeon. The surfaces of his fingertips had been caught, and pinpricks of red bubbled up to obscure their swirling prints. Licking the blood away without a second thought, he tried again, ears pricking to the satisfying hiss the carbonated drink made when the metallic seal was broken. Taking a swig, Dirk disregarded the bubbles that seemed to burn his tongue. As much as he hated it, he felt too lonely now, The taste of the drink was familiar and comforting.

Slamming the fridge door with a little more force than was necessary, the young man flinched. His shoulders were raised in a defensive, tight position, so he forced himself to relax. He'd engineered a situation for himself that hindered his emotional and physical growth, the battle bots being the very reason why he was so prone to startling when no one else was watching to protect him. But the one flaw that Dirk seemed to so vehemently disagree with was perhaps his most prominent: He'd largely formulated and fuelled his own misfortune.

Moving back to the couch, he sat, staring at the rotating disc emblem on the screen. It was up at full brightness, as he refused to take off his shades even though he was completely alone. He knew that he should have at least contacted his brother. If he was craving contact so badly, Dave would be the best person to tell about his troubles. They had been raised similarly, after all, regardless of any family ties they might have had. But. for the most part. he felt disruptive.

Watching the rapid spinning of the disc animation, his stomach felt compelled to follow suit. Swallowing another mouthful of Orange Crush, relief washed through his whole body and quelled his nausea to a degree. His thoughts were only becoming louder and harder to ignore, though, so he muted and switched off the television. His ears continued to ring obnoxiously, so he tilted his head back, placed down the can and plugged them with his fingers.

Dirk was procrastinating, denying the need to fidget and tinker in his workshop purely to quieten his Hal-based thoughts, which were beginning to come overwhelming despite his efforts. He just wanted to prevent them from growing.

He still wondered about his Brobots. The boy wasn't one to get sentimental, and he wasn't about to. He'd simply put so much effort into them that it seemed a shame to dismantle them for a cause he didn't truly support. It was one hell of a choice to make, and the self-imposed delays were only hindering his prospects. Surely he was stronger than his thoughts? For someone who'd sat alone with them for so long, something like Hal shouldn't have moved him.

With another few slow swallows of his drink, he forced himself to stand and look towards a corridor. That was exactly where he didn't want to go. The darkness surrounding the area - though purely owing to his laziness, having not installed a lightbulb - was disorienting and even frightening. He'd never liked having his vision taken away because of how heavily he relied on it.

Descending the small staircase, he glanced downwards to check if his boots - normally steel-toed in case he dropped anything onto them by accident, despite outward claims of his own composure - were properly laced. Finding that one was undone, he bent down and carefully double-knotted it, wincing as the normally non-irritating fabric connected with the raw skin on his fingertips. He'd expected such a small thing to heal rapidly, but all it was doing quickly was becoming both a metaphorical and physical pain. Straightening, he pushed open the door to his workshop and stepped inside.

The space no longer seemed as welcoming and relaxing as his memory told him it would be. There was a certain fogginess about it, the windows dark and air colder than Dirk had ever anticipated. The layout was similar to that of Equius', though the benches and worktables were distinctly neater, and various swords and weapons lined the wall. Their metal glinted dully in the waning moonlight. As opposed to bloodied parts of completed and smashed battle bots, Dirk's hosted husks and unfinished or dismantled robots in varying degrees of completeness.

An entire table was strewn with circuits and other electrical components. Dave had once suggested he contact a troll named Sollux to help with those. He hadn't bothered to enquire who that was, but it seemed a little more believable since he'd confirmed that trolls were not just internet idiots but also a bona fide alien race. Some had cool powers, according to his brother, and this 'Sollux' was one of them. He reportedly possessed psionics and eye lasers, though the tech savviness was far more relevant to Dirk's quests.

Checking around for his welding mask, the young man decided to distract himself by turning to the 'wrong' bot entirely. Squarewave and Sawtooth still existed, after all, and his mind was wandering to that uncertain place. He needed a distraction. He didn't want to face that. He was, for all intents and purposes, a complete and utter coward, even more so because he didn't want to admit it. His calloused fingers tightened against the personalised welding mask, so much so that it rubbed against the drink-tab wound, the same one that was so insistent on not healing.

This bot was a loose model, a sort of forgotten 'Davebot', one which he had since decided to abandon the building of. He thought it selfish to construct a model bot of someone who was still very much alive and deserving attention. By this token, he knew that he had broken this unspoken principle by virtue of the bot he had made Jake, though he considered that a separate situation. Dirk wasn't taking any attention away from his original self, and he could also argue that he didn't deserve it at all.

The boy let out a short sigh, rubbing his hands across his face and grabbing a pair of thick black gloves from a hook on the wall. This allowed a streak of red to smear across his nose from the newly reopened finger-prick wound. Although it was a bad idea due to the blatant infection potential, he didn't bother leaving the workshop to get a bandaid for it.

The Dave-esque robot's bright red eye lenses bored into his own with an unnerving glint, appearing far too alive for his liking. Dirk exhaled shakily, reaching out to touch the bot's soothingly cold exterior. Silvery alloy, fused with tight welding and ungodly amounts of heat so that there were no unseemly bolts and such to mess up the appearance of the face. Although he found it unnervingly difficult to display his affections, the care with which he had assembled his brother's likeness was telling enough.

Drumming on the shining lenses with unclipped fingernails, Dirk realised that he had subconsciously removed his gloves while fidgeting. He scanned the room, huffing and looking down at his fingers so that he had a concrete image of himself putting them back on in his head. Without that reminder, the boy was so stuck in his own swirling thoughts he would have forgotten again. He stepped back from the Davebot, wrinkling his nose in disgust - or perhaps a sudden burst of jealousy - despite his prior, awkwardly-expressed affections towards it. He took a nearby cloth, throwing it over the bot if only to obscure its confronting gaze.

The last thing he wanted to do was face Hal, even though it was just like going back in time. He never asked to face himself, no matter the iteration. Dirk knew he was better than that. The flaws that he once had were all locked away tightly, or so he thought. And yet, he had given their metallic prison a name. There was something so disarming about Hal; the stagnancy in growth was awful alone, but seeing himself - or a projection, a perception - so raw and unfiltered was going to break him apart. It just wasn't natural.

As Dirk felt himself spiral into such a distressing pattern of thought, a rare frown took his lips downwards. He picked up a stray piece of scrap metal, turning it over and over in his fingers until he found some peace in the constant action. Placing it into a pocket, he decided to keep it out of the way but nonetheless close by for further 'use'. He also needed something physical to do rather than resulting to his self-jeopardy and facing Hal when he was in such a fragile state of mind.

The tremors that were rippling through his body begun to intensify, and Dirk realised just how useless it was waiting for himself to calm down. There wasn't a whole lot he could do to procrastinate unless he dragged his friends out of the comfort of isolation. Besides, he had a feeling seeing Jake in person wouldn't put him in the best mood. Running a hand distractedly through his hair, the Strider braced himself against a worktable and groaned aloud. Nothing was helping his emotional turmoil, much less the headache pounding behind his eyes.

He'd spent too many sleepless nights wondering about this particular moral dilemma to keep it inside, but that was simply what he had adjusted himself to. Dirk Strider was a bomb, but he was convinced that he could explode if and when he wanted to. But each and every issue he refused to face was only shortening his resolve. What kind of Strider allowed himself to cry? Not him, that was for sure.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, slipping beneath his welding mask and making him his in irritation. Everything, no matter how small, seemed like it was against him. And to someone feeling as sensitive as Dirk was at that moment, it might as well have been the truth. The buzz in his fingers from touching the abrasive metal - despite the gloves - was gradually spreading, vicious pins and needles that were such a rapid sensation every movement was causing him pain or discomfort.

With a shaking hand, he removed his phone from one of his many pockets and opened Trollian. There, in bright red letters, sat the exact help he was so sure he didn't need. Dave would've been able to soothe him, at the very least, but what he really wanted was for someone to just... listen. Dirk hadn't let himself rely on others in the past, and he wasn't about to. Letting the screen fade to black, the young man let out a breath he had no idea he had held in so tightly. The phone fell from his lax fingers and back into his pocket, the dull weight sparking more pain in his midsection that he couldn't ignore.

Teeth harshly grinding against each other, he took one last glance towards the covered Davebot and rounded a corner, pushing back a thin and vaguely dusty curtain that separated one bot from the rest. Exhaling slowly and steeling himself, he stepped inside. Attempting to disregard his various aches and pains. his gaze flickered to a small drawer. It looked as if it were gouged at to try and remove the handle. He had done that, but it had been so long since that he'd forgotten.

Walking slowly towards it, Dirk produced a key from a chain around his neck. His friends had often enquired as to what the chain was for, but he'd never felt the need to answer them truthfully. He unlocked the drawer, closing his eyes for a moment to silently process what he was doing. It was terrifying, as much as he wouldn't admit it. The only thing that scared Dirk enough to break his facade was himself. Facing his own flaws. Hal made everything ten times worse. Nonetheless, he had completed the body, even if it was crafted in a far less personal manner when compared to the Davebot.

Sweat continued to bead at his forehead and drip downwards, irritating Dirk enough that he removed the welding mask entirely to wipe it away as much as possible. Taking a spare pair of shades - which he always had somewhere on his person - out of his protective apron and slipping them back on, a little bit of the tension melted out of his shoulders. It felt more natural to have the shades on, and he had no need for the welding mask. He didn't intend to see to the bot's adjustments just yet.

Although he regretted building Hal a body, all things said and done, it was the only chance he had to try and quash the nightmares and nausea that followed him everywhere he went. There was no logic to the fear, this he knew, but he just wished it'd stop, despite his giving up hope on it a while ago.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, so he retrieved his phone and headphones. They were a special pair that Dave had once painted for him, sleek, black and noise-cancelling with the added bonus of his hat logo emblazoned on each ear. Again, his thoughts drifted towards getting the help of his brother, but there was no time for any of that. He was too entrenched in his personal problem to think about pushing it onto anyone else. Once again, he put Dave's beats on, but this time they were too close to ignore. The headphones were wireless, luckily, because there was no chance he could have untangled them with his uncooperative hands. They weren't going to stop trembling any time soon.

Dirk's hand rested on the drawer, fingers drumming against the fading, once-burnished wood. He looked down to the contents of the drawer and grimaced, taking a small step away from it. He rethought the last hour's efforts, captured all in the single hesitation. He knew it was necessary, but there was something freezing him in place while his head and stomach spun. The boy curled his fingers so tightly around the handle that his knuckles turned white and it started splintering beneath his grip.

He reached into the drawer, placing his fingers one-by-one on the black lenses within and unsteadily picking them up. As the light caught on them - the workshop lacking curtains as the only room safe and secluded enough - he winced, but it was unclear why until he set them back down and rubbed his eyes vigorously. Dirk had seen the red lenses behind the shades, and thought that he was hallucinating for a moment. He hadn't seen them distinctly prior because he just hadn't processed it. He'd developed a habit of blocking things out physically and mentally when he didn't want to see them.

Sighing to the empty room, Dirk fumbled around in his many pockets for his phone, sending a short message devoid of context to his brother.

~ TimaeusTestified [TT] Began Trolling TurntechGodhead [TG] ~

TT: This is it.

~ TimaeusTestified [TT] Ceased Trolling TurntechGodhead [TG] ~

Returning it to his pocket, he made sure it was on Do Not Disturb mode. There was no way in or out of Hell he'd be shaken from his concentration, and no event more important than it to justify that. It also had to be kept a secret for exactly that reason. Picking the shades back up, he glowered down at them. He hated them - and even more, the AI that they contained - beyond expression. But there was no time, and thusly no back-pedalling that he could afford to be doing. He'd procrastinated enough.

Hesitating despite the reassurance that there was no time to waste, Dirk took off his shades one more time. Removing another welding mask from a hook at the wall - this one plain black unlike the one in the main area that he had taken the time and effort to customise - and replacing it with his own pair of shades, a shudder worked its way up his spine again. This time, the associated tension in his shoulders stayed, giving him none of the prior relief. He never expected it to, really. The Striders were a family who were all capable of working with, around or against their obstacles if needed. Highly adaptable. In reality, nothing much was a hindrance to Dirk because of his learned - and perhaps forced - stoicism.

With a stiff and uncertain movement, the young man drew the shades up to his facE, staring into the crimson lenses as if in a trance. They were lifeless and cold, just as he'd trained himself to be. But he knew, deep in his mind where the bad thoughts - or those he personally considered bad, anyway - rested, that it wouldn't be for long. He barely caught himself fidgeting with the scrap metal restlessly for a moment within his pocket. He begun to prepare the final wirings, those that would spiral out from his folly's chest and centre console.

The one advantage of his fear-based procrastination was having ample enough time to hone his craft. He was able put more careful handiwork into Hal's final form than he ever would have been able to give to the Davebot, which was cause for shame on his part. The wires, all of which he constructed himself, were built to be see-through but contained small lights that would change from blue to red according to the artificial rise and fall of Hal's chest, and the 'beating' of the console. It was a small detail, easily missed, but it made him feel all the more unsettling and real.

He hummed along to the beats still thrumming in his ears, a habit he only displayed when entirely alone.

Dirk inserted the chest-piece along with the console, which was neatly connected and hidden behind) into its proper place, the shaking that had once plagued him long overshadowed and disguised under false confidence. Something was telling him to stop. To leave Hal to rust and his careful wirings to rot. But Dirk's stubbornness and characteristically destructive nature caused him to dismiss all judgements, no matter how logical. No matter how much the dismissals would hurt him.

Clearing his throat, the boy's eyes flickered upwards to the lens that was missing in the facial pieces. Realistically, he could have simply foregone the eye-lenses in their entirety because of the shades he'd put on, but it would have felt unnatural. Regardless of the bot-husks scattered across the workshop and the image they conveyed, their creator was highly committed and dedicated to his craft. Under the right circumstances, yes, but dedicated nonetheless.

Straying from the bot, Dirk re-entered the main sector of his workshop and located a box full of perfectly maintained, crystalline lenses. Picking it up, he made his way back into the smaller room and set it down onto a makeshift workbench, sifting through them in quiet. He had somehow listened to the majority of his brother's discography, even though the intensity of his concentration caused him to block out all else but his work. As such, he hadn't properly realised the magnitude of either achievements, disregarding the bot-related work as well.

Soon, Dirk found the lenses he was searching for, holding them up to the windows and discovering there was no light left to shine through them. Another thing that he'd let slip unwillingly under the radar was just how long he'd been working for at that point. Nonetheless, he knew well enough that their colouration was a near-exact match to his own eyes. They were chosen in stark contrast to the red and black dominating Hal's outfit.

Stepping backwards from the bot in question, the Strider dug the toes of his boots into the floor and started to count silently. He was grounding himself in both a mental and physical manner. He needed to prepare himself for what he was about to finish. For any normal person, the task wouldn't have been so daunting. For him, on the other hand, it was facing his fears. Regardless of his own wants or desires, Dirk both pressed and stepped forwards. He placed the lens in the appropriate eyepiece, and realised that he no longer had to fake his confidence. He was sure of himself.

Slowly soldering the wires with his welding mask pulled down against the embers and sparks, he steadied his once-erratic breathing as much as he could. Upon completing this, he took off the mask and let himself observe Hal, a slight frown turning the otherwise neutral expression he'd maintained. Checking that the kill switch was working - and, despite his loathing, hoping that he'd never have cause to use it - for a moment's distraction, he retrieved the iconic shades.

Connecting them to the bot, he reached down to the centre console and pressed in a final panel. Looking back towards Hal, Dirk realised what he was truly seeing.

These were the eyes of someone more human than he was.

#luminescent lyricist writes #dirk #dirk strider #hal #hal strider #dirk homestuck #hal homestuck #if you tag this as stridercest I'll kick you in the nads #🏠 stuck at home 🏠

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