#i will defend his actions until i die

[charizardstolemynickname]

"Aziraphale would have confessed his feelings first if Metatron didn't give him a job offer"

OKAY BUT YOU ARE NOT UNDERSTANDING ME, CORRECT, EXCEPT HE DID CONFESS

Aziraphale is an angel who more than anything loves God/Heaven and Crowley. He loves more things (his bookshop, human food, books, classical music, etc) but the things he loves more than life itself is heaven and Crowley

And so, often, those 2 loves would contradict each other. His bond to Heaven told him that all Demons were evil and wrong, that demons shouldn't be trusted. And his bond to Crowley told him everything Heaven said was wrong, or in some capacity was wrong. It took years (literally hundreds if not thousands) for Aziraphale to find a rhythm that worked best

Aziraphale KNEW Crowley wouldn't want heaven back, and he also knew heaven wouldn't want Crowley back. He respected both of those wishes and cared deeply for both still. He knew what Heaven did to Crowley was unfair, and knew heaven was sometimes wrong (season 1) but to him, that doesn't make Heaven as a whole wrong, only flawed

He also knew Crowley had done some not very nice things as a demon, that he didn't agree with. Again, that doesn't mean Crowley was wrong, just that he had some flaws

And so when given the opportunity, to fix Heaven's flaws, in the way that is proper, why would Aziraphale not take it? For 6000 years he had the 2 sides of his heart fighting over what is right, (and who/what is right, Crowley or Heaven). But NOW? He can fix Heaven, none of those Angels in charge before knew anything, they hadn't been to earth, they hadn't felt human emotions, they didn't understand TRUE good and bad, didn't understand what the colour grey meant.

This was proven by Gabriel CHANGING AS A CHARACTER COMPLETELY once he fell in love with Beelzebub. Gabriel in season 1 was for the war, was actively going against everything Aziraphale stood for. Gabriel wouldn't listen to Aziraphale, no matter how much he spoke about how the war is wrong. But then he did listen, because he felt love, and the love made Gabriel realise the fight was ridiculous, and unnecessary

So YES Aziraphale saw that since Gabriel left, there is only 1 Angel left who understands the complexity of right and wrong with humans. And even then, Aziraphale knows he doesn't FULLY understand it, he couldn't on his own. Because the reason he did understand it was because of Crowley

Never once did Aziraphale try to get Heaven to bring Crowley's angel status back, and never once did he try convincing Crowley to go back to Heaven (before all this anyway) because he KNEW Crowley would say no

Of course Crowley would say no to Heaven (run by Gabriel), why would he not, it was incredibly flawed and they casted Crowley out for no reason

But now? Heaven could be better. Could be fixed. By Aziraphale, and Crowley

And Aziraphale KNOWS Crowley didn't really "fall" or "become evil", and so to Aziraphale, Crowley becoming an angel again isn't a crazy idea

Especially not when Crowley is exactly what Aziraphale pictures when he thinks of what an Angel should be. Crowley cares, Crowley trusts, Crowley does things for no other reason than to be kind. Crowley is the perfect angel to Aziraphale

SO, Aziraphale saying to Crowley "Come to heaven, come recreated heaven with me" IS a love confession. It's him saying "You are my everything, you are everything right in the world. I would never dare suggest you should forgive heaven, but heaven was wrong, we both know that, but you and I both know you were the perfect angel and still are. Heaven created by you will be the true heaven"

It's Aziraphale saying "I have loved you and Heaven for thousands of years, and never once asked either of you to change. Today, I want Heaven to change as it is wrong, I want it to change, and I want it to change to become perfect for you. I want it to realise that punishing you was wrong. I want Heaven to be completely different because I love you, and you deserve so much better than to be treated as you have been for these 6000 years. I have seen what Hell does, and I have seen what Heaven does. And I have the opportunity to fix one, and you are what inspires me to do so. You helped me see the flaws, loving you is the reason heaven gets to be better"

AND I KNOW CROWLEY DOESN'T UNDERSTAND THIS, AND IT HURTS, BUT STOP SAYING AZIRAPHALE DIDN'T CONFESS FIRST BECAUSE ALTHOUGH HE DIDN'T SAY I LOVE YOU, HE MAY FUCKING HAVE

thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[vamprlestat]

thinking a lot about isildur today

[lakemichigans]

my favorite rich kid schizophrenic stoners who went off their meds and didn't intend to hurt anyone but still put their friends in grave danger and get labeled as bad representation for mentally ill people because of it and everyone hates them even though both of them die (or worse) as a direct result of their actions with no chance for a happy ending unlike almost every other character in the game

[anqel-devil]

What also annoys me is that those same people will ALWAYS completely miss the entire point on why Denji is fixated on having sex and getting a girlfriend in the first place…

Sex is literally one of the only forms of deep-intimacy or love that Denji doesn’t have trauma or pain from. Having sex with someone else is a form of love and a desire that he can fulfill without any painful memories attached to it.

Sooo many other forms of affection or relationships in the past have been used to hurt him, or are painful for him to remember. Not even just romantic love, platonic and familial love as well, like with Power & Aki’s deaths — or/and also with his birth-father and the abusive upbringing that Denji experienced from him as a little kid, before he died as well.  Consensual sex (I can’t stress this enough) with someone that Denji cares about AND who also cares about him hasn’t been used as a weapon against him or used to hurt him. It’s a form of love that he can experience without being in pain. 

Basically the reason why Denji wants to have a girlfriend, too. It’s a deep, intimate relationship — based on mutual trust and respect for each other — and a form of love and affection. Denji hasn’t had a relationship this close with really anyone yet, meaning he doesn’t have a traumatic memories of having a girlfriend or a S/O in general.

He doesn’t want to be taken advantage of or in pain at the hands of other people he cares about anymore. 

"Bruh the Denji who just wants to touch boobs is back" WHAT? *turns the table* GUY HE NEVER LEFT

You're not going to tell me that in one chapter Denji comforts someone while drawing a parallel with his own traumas is the SAME as the first chapter in which he only had a demonic dog as a companion?

The fact that Denji is horny and wants to experiment doesn't negate anything, except showing sincerity

Wanting sex with fifteen girlfriends is literally Denji's way of announcing that he would move forward, it's literally the conclusion of part 1, what he says as he comes out of mourning and before facing Makima

Denji not only believes this sincerely but shares it with Asa because accepting and claiming this dream has effectively allowed him to break free, to claim his own identity as Chainsaw Man by raising his standards

The only difference is that he tries not to do anything more for this goal and even if this goal is not up to Chainsaw Man

It is for a 17 year old boy

[folkwhoredoll]

mutual frustrations - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: keeping your temper and hormones in control is neither yours nor your boyfriend's strength

word count: 1.6k

warnings/tags: smut! (f masturbation, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism), slight dom!bf rafe

a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"What the hell is your problem, huh?"

Rafe had been frustrated all day. His dad had been yelling at him since early morning, Barry wouldn't stop calling him, and a brief fight with his sister for running off with her Pogue friends had pushed him to the edge. It didn't help that you had been snappy all day, either. It started with your short and sarcastic replies to his questions, and he grew tired of seeing your eyes roll and your deep sighs.

Truth be told, you weren't doing it on purpose. You were just craving his attention, and your frustration over his frequent disappearances to whatever business he had to attend to was carelessly reflected through your actions.

"Seriously! Where did this attitude come from?" he said, raising his voice slightly but not yelling.

"Well, I wouldn't have a problem if you just noticed me, Rafe!" You grumbled.

"Are you fucking joking? I have literally been talking to you, but you were the one who refused to answer me properly!" Rafe seethed.

"Oh, please. The first time that you acknowledged my presence was an hour ago. I have been here since morning!" You defended yourself, remembering how you initially went over to his place to bond with each other, but he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he walked past you several times without realizing it.

Rafe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "You know what? Whatever. I've had a long day and don't need any of this right now."

Your face was starting to feel hot as you felt your anger grow. Suddenly, his huge bedroom felt small as your chest tightened. "That's it? You're going to push me away again? What the fuck am I to you, Rafe? Do I even mean anything to you?"

"You're pulling this shit right now?" He growled, brows furrowing as he looked at you with darkened eyes. "If you mean nothing to me, I wouldn't even look at you."

Rafe started to walk closer to you slowly, cornering you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. His face lowered to your level, with a threatening look on his face.

"But guess what, princess? Here I am, still tolerating your goddamn bratty attitude." He said lowly.

You could feel his radiating anger, making you gulp as you think of whether or not you should still say something as words die at the back of your throat. Despite your own displeasure, your boyfriend's dangerous face made you gulp. And unsurprisingly, you liked it. You liked it so much that Rafe did not miss your subtle attempt to push your thighs together.

He chuckled darkly. "So that's your problem then, hm? You're fucking horny."

You felt your breath hitch, mouth open, as you quickly thought of an excuse. As expected, you came up with nothing, leading Rafe to shake his head in amusement.

"You could've just told me, baby. I'd drop anything to make you feel good." Upon hearing his words, your eyes lit up hopefully. You started to feel excited until Rafe walked beside you to sit on the bed, harshly pulling you towards him so you were entirely situated on his lap. "But you decided to act like a fucking brat instead, and I can't have that, can I?"

Your boyfriend hastily grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face towards his to kiss you roughly before you could react. Rafe kissed you with passion, forcefully separating your lips with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, hips starting to grind against clothed crotch.

Unbeknownst to you, he was already plotting what he could do to punish you. And you only realized that after you felt his lips travel to your neck.

"More, Rafe. Please fuck me." You gasped upon feeling him slightly bite your skin.

"No." He replied bluntly, pulling away to meet your gaze with a smirk. "You really think I'm gonna fuck you after what you did?"

"W-what?" You asked, visibly confused.

"Oh, baby. You should've seen your punishment coming." He taunted, shifting your positions so that he was standing again and you were lying on the bed. "You won't be getting my dick tonight. If you wanna come, do it yourself."

Your mouth was open in shock as you processed his words, frustration building up again. "Are you kidding me? Fuck me."

"You're in no position to order me, darling. Make yourself come right now, or I'll extend your punishment for a week. We both know you can't go that long without my dick."

If you weren't horny, you would have slapped Rafe's smirk off of his face. But you were desperate; your hormones heightened after making out with him. You groaned, tilting your head back, figuring that making yourself cum without his cock is much better than not being able to cum at all.

"Go on, baby. Take off your clothes; I wanna watch."

Grunting, you briefly sat up to remove your clothes individually as Rafe stepped back to watch you. You kept eye contact with him as you took off your bra and underwear, smirking when you saw his eyes hungrily scan your hardening nipples down to your inner thighs.

 "You can touch me, Rafey." You attempted to persuade him with a sweet smile, but he knew better.

"Nice try, sweetheart. But you should know by now that that won't work for me. Now lay back and spread those legs."

You followed his instruction, positioning yourself so that you're laterally positioned on his bed. Rafe moved to his small couch across the room, observing your movements like a hawk.

"Like this?" You teased him, lifting your leg and spreading your thighs apart, giving him a perfect view of your plump breasts and wet slit.

Rafe could feel his cock growing harder and harder with each second. He wanted nothing more than to ruin you at that moment, your pussy tempting him to cum inside. But he prevented himself, knowing he had to let you know who was in control.

"Mhm. Now play with your tits. Don't stop until your nipples are hard." He said, watching as you slowly moved your hands up to massage your breasts. You moaned with each stroke, your thumb toying specifically with your nipples until they perk. "Good job, baby. Now remove one hand and touch your pussy. Don't insert a finger yet."

You followed again, one hand trailing down to your stomach until your fingertips touched your outer walls. You gasped loudly, turned on from your own wetness. "Rafey."

Rafe savored your moans, eyes not leaving your womanhood. "Spread your walls for me. I want to see that pretty cunt."

You obeyed, letting out a deep breath as you used two fingers to separate your walls, giving Rafe a fantastic view of your delicious cunt. "Want to come, Rafe? Please."

"You will. Just be patient, alright?" He cooed. "Insert one of your fingers."

You slowly push one finger into your pussy, having no difficulty in doing so because you're too soaked.

"Add another one. Go on, sweetheart. You know your spot." Rafe urged you, proud that you were doing so well for him. "Curl your fingers in. That's it."

"Fuck!" You screamed in sudden pleasure, letting Rafe know that you were able to find your G-spot. "Wish this were your fingers."

"I know, baby. I do, too, but you need to learn your lesson. Now make yourself come."

You whined upon hearing his words, pumping your fingers faster while continuing to massage your breasts. You were becoming desperate for a release, and Rafe's hungry smirk gave you enough motivation. If you couldn't have his dick, you would at least give him a proper show.

You were a moaning mess in front of him, and he loved every moment of it. Your continuous mumbles of his name increased his ego, knowing that you would never be able to satisfy yourself like he does.

The sound of your wetness as you fingered yourself was like music to his ears. And before he could think about what he was doing, he found himself in front of you, absentmindedly reaching forward to place his thumb on your clit.

"Oh!" You screamed upon contact, your hips slightly rising. Rafe couldn't avert his eyes from your pussy. He groaned at the sight of both of your fingers playing with your cunt, your walls visibly pulsating as you chased your own release.

"That's it. Be a good girl and come on my fingers."

"Yes, yes, yes." The exact words left your mouth as you felt your mind go blank, overwhelmed with nothing but pleasure. You continued to fuck yourself as Rafe toyed with your clit faster. "Fuck, Rafe. I'm going to cum."

"Go ahead, pretty girl. Give it to me." Rafe's cock was aching so much, and he felt like he was about to lose control. And he knew he did, when his mouth let out his most wanted thought. "Come for me. Come for me, and I'll give you my dick."

Hearing those words made something snap in you, making you release in an instant. You squirted around your fingers as he remained touching your clit, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that was taking over your body.

Rafe grunted at the scene. "Good job." He softly grabbed your fingers away from your pussy before wiping the sweat off of your forehead. "You did good, baby."

You were still catching your breath when you felt him kiss your forehead softly.

"Now I believe I owe you my cock?"

[lcvclywon]

1:56 am | niki x female reader , best friends to ?, college au

── warnings: kissing, cursing, drinking, vomiting, skinship | wc: 1.31k

an | it's a canon event that i come onto this acc every few months js to write self projecting fics then dip, also new layout ig!

“Another shot!” it was the fifth time niki had heard you call those words out and he figured it was time to intervene before he would be lugging you home slung across his shoulders 

Before you could even grab the drink niki quickly downed the whole thing stopping you in your tracks – quite evidently leaving you annoyed. In all honesty niki was doing you a favour, he just inhaled two shots worth of tequila for you and he was never known to be big on hard liquor. Though his efforts remained in vain, from the corner of his eye he noticed the all too familiar glint of red plastic in your hand a bit too late – there goes your liver.

“YN come on I think that’s enough drinks for tonight-” niki insisted whilst attempting to push you away from the living room coffee table that had turned into a pseudo beer pong station – sticky with alcohol and swarmed by intoxicated laughing.

“Stop you’re so lame,” despite his firm grasp on your wrist you managed to put up a pretty hefty fight before wriggling yourself loose “I had like what- 5 drinks?”

“Plus 6 more at pregraming” karina managed to chime in – and of course that’s when she decides to join in the convo – much to your annoyance her comment completely juxtaposed her pouring tequila down your throat 15 minutes prior. 

Snapping a dirty glare you were about to defend yourself until niki’s voice boomed through your ears.

“11 drinks? Do you want to die of alcohol poisoning or something?” caring as always – god you hated that. 

Of course you knew niki cared about you, it was just – certain times his kindness felt misplaced. Like when you would offhandedly mention liking that cherry glazed lip gloss you saw displayed at a price far too high to be considered, yet the product was already in niki’s hand and checked out before you could even get a say. Or when you would find 10000 won slipped under your wallet after club meetings where you had been incessantly complaining about your growling stomach, a small note attached to it with his toddler like handwriting – laughable but endearing. Or the times you would find yourself flooded in club meetings and activity preparations, somehow niki always managed to lighten the load. You appreciated it really – but you could never get rid of the annoyance that brewed in your gut. 

“Does he do this for all his other friends? I mean we’re close but – there’s a line.”

He had to know the implications of his actions right? Or were you just imagining things you wanted. 

Your friendship always seemed to balance on a tightrope of something you knew wasn't platonic – but if you never acted on it hey, what’s the harm done? Who were you to decline his offers? He’s just kind, he’s nice. He’s just niki. 

This was just another instance of him caring far too much for your liking. It bothered you but you masked it with banter as always. “Dude I’m fine- like really it’s noth-” and suddenly the sickening sensation of warmth trickling up your throat plagued your senses. You made a B-line for the bathroom. 

Quickly following behind niki kneeled down behind you, his hands immediately rushing to hold your hair back as you puked your guts out (again.) and even though vomit was pouring out your throat somehow niki’s fingertips brushing against your cheek overpowered the burning sensation of bile gushing out. 

The warmth of his breath tickled the nape of your neck whilst his other hand reached over to trace circles on your back in attempts to soothe you. You were vomiting your guts out, the least romantic situation one could be in, and you could only focus on niki’s gaze burning into the back of your head. 

Shooting your head up niki reached to wipe your mouth with discarded tissue paper, quietly mumbling under his breath “yeah that’s enough for today…” and for once you could only nod. 

The trip back to his apartment was a blur. You could only really remember the frustration that lingered in his words as he muttered “you’re two years older, why am I the one having to take care of you…” suddenly you were transported back to when you were 6 sitting through your mothers scoldings.

His frustrated pout and furrowed eyebrows however didn’t bring out the same fear your mother did though, you could only giggle thinking about how funny this whole situation was. Looping your arm with his you feigned innocence, putting on your best pout and repeated apologies (you never meant them) until you reached his shabby studio apartment. 

“Stop YN…” his tone unusually firm, you took notice to how he attempted to remove his arms from your grasp. Huh, why did that bother you?

“Wait – are you seriously mad?” you were shocked but in all honesty it wouldn’t be too surprising considering he had cleaned up your messes far too many times to count. Trailing behind him like a puppy you awaited a response whilst he picked through his clothes to find something suitable for you to wear. Your eyes drilled in on his expression, he seemed- uneasy.

“No YN it’s-” sighing out he handed you his worn grey shirt that was five sizes too big and a pair of grey sweatpants that you knew you would have to fold over just for them to barely hang on your hips “you’re just always like this when you’re drunk”

“Like what?”

“Just, insincere.” Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? “Just change we can talk in the morning”

You were in awe. Niki was being uncharacteristically moody and you really couldn’t pinpoint why. A part of you felt annoyed that he even had the audacity to talk about insincerity when none of his actions were ever genuine either. At least you never thought they were. 

Slipping into his oversized clothing that hung over you like a drape you made your way to his bed and laid down beside him as he leaned against the headboard picking aggressively at the loose seams in his shirt. 

“You’re just-” he finally started, still avoiding your gaze though “you get too clingy…” the position you guys were in really didn’t help your case too much either 

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“It’s just, none of this feels right when it’s ingenuine” he said before adjusting himself to lay flat next to her.

“Do you want it to be or something?”

Silence. 

“You know I could honestly say the same thing about you though,” even whilst bickering your hand seemed to find its way to the dip of his collarbones, tracing circles across its smooth exterior “don’t you know what your actions mean?”

“Yeah, I do” 

You could only laugh in disbelief, yeah and he wants to talk about not being genuine.

“You don’t stop me though” his hands found themselves nested in your knotted hair, looping it back and forth between his fingers. He wasn’t wrong, you never did stop him, perhaps it was because you never felt like it was too much of a big deal – or maybe a small part of you hoped he would finally get enough of your oblivion and cross the line. 

Engulfed in silence you could only gaze down at his fingers that were now entangled with yours, his hands previously playing with your locks of hair now adjusted to nest you close to his chest for you to hear his heartbeat. You figured your silence was enough of an answer – it always was. 

Drifting off to sleep you felt the gentle pressure of his lips on the top of your forehead before muttering out that you were probably tired in lieu of a goodnight. 

Somehow it always ended this way, and somehow you’d rather settle for that than an answer.

[mxtxfanatic]

Bing-ge and Victim's Entitlement as Portrayed by MXTX

I was thinking about Bing-ge’s journey as an abuse victim into an abuser and how much the creation of Bing-mei is a critique on both the writing trope that creates Bing-ge as well as the societal expectations that drive it.

In the world of PIDW, one of Shen Yuan’s main critiques was about how terribly the young Luo Binghe is treated by the narrative, so much so that he views it as torture porn. From being abandoned as a baby, to being abused as a servant and watching his adoptive mother wither from sickness and die, to finding his way to Cang Qiong Mountain and suffering under a cruel shizun who then pushes him into hell, Shen Yuan finds all this unnecessarily cruel. However, Shang Qinghua knows that the trauma Luo Binghe suffers directly correlates to the enjoyment readers are meant to get out of the second half of the protagonist’s life when he becomes overpowered and primed for vengeance. Shen Yuan knows this, too, as this is the trope he girds himself with as Shen Qingqiu to work up the nerve to push his disciple into the Endless Abyss, to “earn” his happiness. However, is this a true happiness? Does the trauma justify any and all of Luo Binghe’s actions?

On the surface, Bing-ge seems happy! He is able to enact revenge on Shen Jiu—and demolish Cang Qiong Mountain Sect who acted as accomplices to his abuse—and was given narrative access to any and every woman of marriageable age who crossed his path. He is even able to destroy his world by merging the three realms with no consequences to himself. Bing-ge has seemingly reaped the twisted “reward” that having survived unconscionable abuse and abandonment from the time of his birth had sown for him, and PIDW readers were able to enjoy and defend Bing-ge’s later megalomaniacal actions directly because they had read through hundreds of pages of his ill-treatment beforehand. The worse Luo Binghe’s childhood was, the more they were willing to accept of his actions in adulthood. We see a similar thing take place in the SVSSS fandom: the reveal of Shen Jiu’s past as a child slave is used to justify his later abuse of his child disciples—children who had no hand in his trauma but who he has decided to bear the brunt of it, anyways. But Shen Jiu lived a very unfulfilling adulthood due to his unwarranted actions until his untimely death. Is Luo Binghe any different?

Enter Bing-mei: the revised protagonist who abandons revenge in pursuit of experiencing genuine affection from the only person who gave it unconditionally. No, Bing-mei doesn’t get all the girls or all the power. He does not become the emperor of all three realms and he is not an uncontested leader that all conscious beings bow to. In fact, he is very tame and controlled in comparison to his PIDW counterpart despite not having complete control of his sword that amplifies his negative emotions. But when Bing-ge slips into the world of SVSSS and discovers that, despite all of this, Bing-mei has an intact world, platonic relationships, and a shizun who loves him, he’s willing to throw it all away to experience that same life. Bing-ge is revealed to be the unhappy, unfulfilled one, because the one thing he wanted—genuine unconditional love—was the one thing that he cannot earn or forcibly take. No amount of audience hype can change the fact that Bing-ge must leave behind the happy Bingqiu couple to return to his destroyed world in his unsatisfying reality.

This isn’t just a theme in SVSSS, either; it’s present in all of MXTX’s works in how people—both characters and the irl fandom—react to antagonists and asshole characters who have experienced trauma. In mdzs: a female cultivator tries to say that Jin Ling endangering other cultivators should be forgiven “since he’s an orphan.” Jiang Cheng throws his parents’ and sister’s death around to justify being an unrepentant serial killer. Jin Guangyao cries about how much his father hates him compared to the legitimate Jin heirs that he murdered. In tgcf: Qi Rong escapes discipline at every turn because his mother had to escape with him from his abusive father, and Mu Qing’s transgressions against the marginalized are ignored because “he was poor, once.” All of these characters have their actions whitewashed both in their stories and by their fandoms at large because their defenders believe that their trauma excuses any of their subsequent behavior.

Yet, MXTX does not prescribe to this idea. Notice the pattern of how the above characters end their stories. Jiang Cheng tanks his reputation and loses the respect of his only living relative. Jin Guangyao and Qi Rong die. But Jin Ling experiences setback after setback until he adjusts his behavior, and Mu Qing had to earnestly apologize under harrowing circumstances to be forgiven. It is not characters who seek justice for being harmed who are punished in these novels but those who persevere in their entitlement to do whatever they want because they were once harmed, thereby eventually destroy any goodwill others, particularly their loved ones, had towards them. The characters who are able to contain their actions to aim only at those who wronged them or else honestly reflect on their sense of entitlement in order to change for the better become well-liked by their peers. And as for Bing-ge: his inability to change within the narrative of PIDW may have “earned” him all the material things his world could offer and the affections of an unseen audience, besides, but he misses out on true human connection and love. These are the things he can never forcibly take, because in real life, no amount of trauma would entitle him—or anyone—to those things.

[darkmist111]

Something I wish was talked about more is that Percy wasn’t told about the full Great Prophecy until days before it was set to occur.

And the implications of who knew, and how it changes the view of people’s actions in that context.

Let’s start off with who knew for sure, Annabeth, Luke, Chiron, and all the gods.

Annabeth has been the one that’s been analyzed the most I think. Her abandonment issues, combined with the knowledge that the best friend she made and boy she loves most likely has a expiration date. She pulls away and is reluctant to open up on her feelings. She spends alot of time bracing for pain she thinks is coming.

Chiron spends a good portion of the time being honestly very pessimistic with Percy, talking about heroes that died tragically, gods that probably don’t care, and honestly usually looks at Percy like he’s already dead. There are many times in the book where Chiron gets a far away look and Percy thinks he’s thinking of fallen heroes but it might be he’s thinking about how the Hero before him is due to die in a couple years.

You will never catch me defending Luke Castellan’s actions, but with the context of the Great prophecy, I can understand how in a twisted way his actions might have made sense. If this kids is gonna die in a couple years anyway why not kill him now? Why wait just so he can die a slower death possibly in service to a broken system. It also kinda makes sense why he wouldn’t recruit him, since he’d be just recruiting him to die for his cause instead of the gods. That part is speculation though since he has no problem later sending demigods to their death for his cause.

The gods are pretty easy to tell with their motives, self centered, they care more about their survival than a single mortals’. Poseidon however is honestly painted in a pretty bad light. The apology of “I’m sorry you were born” takes a different meaning when you think he know that Percy is gonna die. “I’m sorry you were born only to die.” Not only that but his distance to Percy even after his heritage is revealed takes a different tone. Is he avoiding puting time into his son not just because he is a god but because he might die? Granted he’s immortal so Percy was going to die anyway. But did he avoid telling Percy because he didn’t want him to think less of him?

And then we get onto who theoretically knew.

Specifically, did Sally, Grover, or Thalia know?

Sally Jackson is a goddess let me just preface that, but much like other goddesses she’s not perfect.

Is it possible Poseidon told her of the prophecy? If she knew is it possible she hid it from Percy? I love Sally but she does have a habit of keeping things that could hurt Percy from him until the last possible moment. And honestly this is much worse than the other things she’s withheld from him.

Did Grover know? Even with the empathy link, it transfers emotions more than thoughts. Which brings us to another interesting point. If Grover knew the Prophecy did he form a Empathy link knowing he would probably die in a couple years? Or did he not know and Annabeth Chiron and others failed to tell him that? We’re people expecting Grover to die in a couple years? Was he informed? Did people try to get him to cut his Empathy Link, without telling him? Did Juniper know?

And finally we have Thalia, the most underutilized character in all the series, and I don’t feel like I’m exaggerating when I say that.

Did Thalia know and when did she know it? Did she know before being turned into a Tree? Did she know after she was revived? Did she know during the Titan’s Curse? Did she know after she became a hunter? All of these can drastically change how her choice at the end of Titans Curse could be viewed.

If she knew before her death, it adds a layer to Luke and Annabeth, not only was their friend killed but most likely, another will be killed in her place.

If she was informed after she was revived or knew during Titan’s curse it adds a level of stress from her perspective, not only did she die to save her family, one who became a traitor and sacrificed the other to unleash a Titan, but she is know being told she’ll probably die in a couple months to a year.

And if she was informed after she became a Hunter? Did that make her regret her decision? Second guess herself? Did she feel guilty because she basically sacrificed Percy to save her own life? Did she try and avoid Percy out of guilt?

And I think what’s really interesting is that if Percy wasn’t such a good guy, and was more pessimistic and darker in how he view people and these motivations, he could easily reinterpret people’s actions with the prophecy in mind to their worst possible conclusion.

Him getting together with Annabeth only after the Great Prophecy could be seen as her writing him off as not worth it like so many others in his life, only willing to take the leap after the threat had passed.

He could see Chiron holding back on training because Percy might not be alive long enough to make full use of them. Writing him off as another tragic hero.

He could see Luke as worse or better, understanding that the gods do use them but also seeing Luke as another mentor giving up on him as a lost cause before really getting to know him.

He could see Poseidon withholding the truth as a manipulation tactic to give him the illusion of hope up until the point where he can’t back out anymore.

He could see Sally starting a relationship and trying to build a life while Percy is going through these trials as her preparing for her son to die, trying to make it so she has a life that can survive his death.

He could see Thalia’s decision to trust him with the prophecy, not as one of faith but avoiding death by using him as a sacrifice. Her doing the same thing Luke did, and what Percy wouldn’t do to others like Bessie.

Honestly the only one that couldn’t be spun in a bad direction is Grover. But if Grover didn’t know than I can imagine Percy would be angry at those that didn’t inform him since Percy’s life very much is linked to Grover’s. Did Juniper know her Boyfriend was also marked for death?

All of that being said Percy really is a good guy.

I sometimes forget how compassionate he is without thought, even to those who don’t deserve it.

It would be so easy to be angry bitter and spiteful when you’re told you only have a few days to live. To be resentful and cruel to the people that kept it from you.

He’s always known he could die but he also always had that little bit of hope dangled in front of him, the idea that not all heroes die gruesome painful deaths, that he could end up like his namesake.

But he isn’t and doesn’t. When people say they were doing what they thought was best he believes them. He doesn’t follow blindly but he doesn’t hate blindly either.

That’s why he’s the Hero of Olympus.

[theaspsaroaceimagines]

You asked for it. Now you get

EVEN MORE Hazbin Hotel x God of Death! Reader

spoiler for episodes 7 & 8

It turns out you arrived at just the right time, actually.

The Extermination is soon and Charlie and co. need as much help as they can get defending the Hotel.

It's just your luck, you came for a vacation, and you still have to work.

You're a little surprised Carmilla Carmine discovered the angels' weakness.

But only a little. She is an arms dealer, after all.

To be honest, you should have realized it happened sooner when the dead angel's soul showed up in Limbo, but you can't actually tell the naked souls of a demon and an exorcist apart.

They're honestly equally corrupted.

You help train the demons who've chosen to defend the Hotel, it's pretty brutal.

Except for Alastor, he chose to skip training; a mistake you won't let him make again.

When the exorcists attack, you are calm and collected. You have no reason to fear for yourself.

That doesn't mean you don't fight fiercely, though.

It's the first time in thousands of years that anyone's been able to lucidly see you in action.

You're untouchable, dodging and blocking every blow directed at you.

You attack in turn with the Soul Reaper, a weapon that changes form between any kind of scythe or sickle based on what's most useful at a given moment.

For example, it can be an ordinary scythe while blocking, a sickle during a close range attack, and a kusarigama when you want to pull an opponent into close range from further away.

The exorcists don't recognize you, too blinded by their hatred for demon-kind to see you for what you are.

It's hardly even a challenge.

You notice quickly when Adam joins the fight, though you let Alastor fight him for a few seconds before stepping in.

You suppose you can allow him to defend his pride a little bit.

You won't let him die now, though, it's too early. He has yet to serve his purpose.

You try to keep Adam occupied. You really do.

However, you're unable to prevent him from disintegrating Pentious's airship.

You drop the fight the instant it's happened.

Seeing as Pentious sacrificed himself for the others, you figure he's earned a one-way trip to Heaven.

You carry his shell-shocked soul straight to the seraphim.

"Special delivery! Also, friendly reminder, I'm the one who decides where a soul goes and when it goes there. Maybe consult me the next time you have a question of if a transfer is possible, Sera."

You fucking slap her.

When you return to the battle, Lucifer and Charlie are struggling to fight Adam while minimizing collateral damage.

Time to fix your mistake.

You tackle him.

"You again?! Who the fuck are you?!" "You already know me, Adam. You just don't remember."

You knock him off his feet.

"I'm Death. Taking you to Heaven was a mistake. One I won't soon repeat."

You slice his wings clean off.

You would have left it at that, but then Niffty stabs him from behind with a blessed dagger.

Great. Now you have to deal with him in your home.

Whatever, you'll just keep him in stasis until you're tired of him taking up space.

Then you'll deposit him in Hell where he belongs.

[kelin-is-writing]

Not some peoples on here and TikTok going:

“You don’t like the ending because your favorite character died”

Hell yeah? Literally why wouldn’t I be pissed that my favorite character who could be saved died? Dabi has one of the most realistic backstories and best characterizations in Mha, actually not only in Mha but Anime/Manga in general and do you know how taboo of topics domestic violence, child abuse and raping are in Japan? Mind you, Japan is a country that has domestic violence normalized in their country as part of marriage and somehow education too. Y’all might think I’m joking but victims of domestic abuse in Japan are struggling very much to this day, but Japanese peoples rarely talks about it because Japan is a “Family Image” oriented society (Endeavor and the Himuras showed it enough me thinks) so they categorically refuse to let people know abuse happens, especially the abusers.

“Oh BuT aLL aBuSeRs DoN’t WaNt It To Be KnOwN”, I know but in Japan it’s normalized to just live through it and that (together with bullying) it’s one of the reasons the suicide rate in Japan is one of the highest globally, hope it helps to get a better grasp on everything I’m trying to say.

Horikoshi has depicted it perfectly, because you know… He lives there and even the final outcome (Rei becoming Enji’s caretaker after years of abuse) it’s very much Japanese style. Which is why the Todoroki family ending it’s wrong and disturbing. Wrong, and disturbing.

And as if one of Enji’s victims becoming his caretaker isn’t enough, one of his other victims had to die because of his actions.

“No BuT tOuYa WeNt OfF wItH hIs QuIrK oN hIs OwN”, and who was the main reason and cause he went off like that with his Quirk? Endeavor.

Yep. Thought so too.

I don’t get why some of you are bending backwards, doing backflips and cartwheels to defend Endeavor just because he’s an Hero like— I’m sorry but he is the depiction of a realistically fact that even if your job (YOUR JOB!) is to save other people, behind closed doors that same person who saves other people can still be a shitty person who’s a curse to his own family, because Endeavor is just Enji Todoroki’s façade.

And he’s a well-written character because the depiction of abuser Horikoshi did of him it’s accurate to reality. Enji is egotistical, narcissistic, greedy, self-centered and selfish, which are all the characteristics that made him physically unable to actually address any of what he did until Dabi’s reveal, despite knowing that he was dead wrong and that together with the fact that he waited almost a decade to apologize to his family, is the reason why I genuinely don’t give a flying fuck about his “redemption”. If sorrow was eating you alive why didn’t you apologize sooner, trash?

Touya never got the closure he deserved, actually none of the Leagues got it and you know why? Because the whole War arc was rushed, you can tell by the way Shigaraki was offed. From a writing standpoint it was laughable, seriously.

What’s even worse is that… Nothing has actually changed in the Hero society despite the fact that nine years have passed, because people like Touya, Shigaraki and Toga will never be actually saved because Heroes have failed miserably to save the prime examples of what’s to be saved.

And no, they weren’t saved because death isn’t salvation for people who want to live, be accepted and loved. You guys that think this way genuinely scare me and I want y’all far away from me.

Like— To sum what I’m trying to say: We can’t cry and hate Mha’s ending because of all this, but some of y’all can cry, kick sheets, throw up, crashout and hate the ending over fucking ships?

Wow…

[genderqueerdykes]

i just wanted to take some time to let americans know that while it's okay to be bummed about the results of the presidential election, the entire reason elections are so publicized and televised like this is to try to keep you wrapped up in this bullshit so you will ignore and forget about reality. yes trump being elected sucks but the entire point of this is to keep your attention off of real issues that are happening in the real world

they WANT you to get sad and defeated whenever a bad candidate wins so that you become complacent. they want you to lose hope and give up and accept what is happening. they want you to get wrapped up in debates and other he-said-she-said nonsense that's all conjecture and spitballing so you'll ignore what's actually happening in the real world. trump can say he wants to do this, and say he wants to do that, but the real world is way more complicated than that. our government sucks but he's going to have to fight with the senate and house just like he did the last time he was elected. he's going to have to fight tooth and nail to try to get his unrealistic plans set into action, and it's not going to be any easier for him this time around than it was last time.

we don't know what will happen until we get there. the best we can do is continue to survive, and thrive, until we see change. all we can do is continue to care for and love each other until we see things in our environment genuinely changing. don't listen to what this man says he wants to do. he wants to scare you and make you think that he's almighty and unstoppable, but he's not. he's a human who is subject to the rules of the government machine he willingly walked into. you can't give up hope right now and abandon your friends and family and assume you should move or die to escape it.

most people's first reaction is to move when the candidate they don't like wins. which is fair, but it's also really important to stick with your friends and family. abandoning the people you love during a hard time will not make it any easier for you or them. sticking together during adversity is what makes it easier to overcome. and if and when it comes down to a revolution, we need your help to set that in motion. we can't start a revolution to make a change if there's no one left to try. we have to stay in order to be the change we want to see. stick by your friends and family. stick together. don't abandon each other- now more than ever we need to stick together.

this wasn't the "most important election of our lifetime." all of the ones before that were framed exactly that way, too. what this IS is the most important time to stick together and stand up for one another. there will never be a more important time like the present to stand together, stick up for each other, defend each other, and to be there for one another. marginalized groups will only get weaker if we abandon each other. we have to stick together to fight like hell for each other.

it's not all doom and gloom. nothing is over. we survived a prior 4 years under this man's presidency and we will survive another 4. it sucked before, and it'll suck again, but we will persist through this. the world will keep turning. the sun will keep rising. please remember that we are stronger together, and that a revolution cannot happen unless there are people to partake in it. if we want to make change, we can't run- we have to stand and face the adversity we wish to overcome.

[ktaerssoi]

hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE

jealously is my middle name

summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.

(678)

kate martin x reader

Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.

By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.

there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."

needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.

"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.

"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.

you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.

she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.

you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.

"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.

"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)

"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."

She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.

"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.

"not jealous my ass."

-

you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)

it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.

okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate

[riorsonxaden]

Yall are delusional if you think Nesta is going to leave Cassian or the night court. First, they are mated. Not just mates. Mated. They accepted the bond, and SJM loves her Heas. It's a done deal. So either keep reading and deal with it or drop the series and find something you enjoy. Not to mention if they even could break the bond, how empty and broken Nesta would be for eternity. You really want that for her?

HOFAS happened three months after acosf. There's still alot of healing on Nesta’s part. Just because she saved Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx doesn't mean things are swept under the rug with them. Her and Cassian are both fiery and stubborn. They are going to have arguments. Honestly, it's perfectly normal for them to argue on occasion.

This. What Nesta did in HOFAS. Went beyond her and Cassian, beyond Rhys. This was a decision that Nesta should not have made herself. Yes I understand that she saw Bryce's desperation and understood her. She probably put herself in Bryces shoes for a moment. She took a chance. But it's a huge fucken chance because they don't know nor trust Bryce fully. And if she failed the whole of Prythian/Midgard is fucked. They have nothing to defend themselves against the weaponry Rigelus has. They will all die. Including Nesta Archeron.

Rhys had every right to scold her. And Her saying he's not her High Lord isn't accurate. She lives in his lands. Whether she wants to admit it or not. If any of the courts got wind of what was happening with Bryce or that Nesta gave this mask up to a stranger from another world do you know who would be faulted? Not Nesta. Rhys and Feyre would. They would suffer the consequences because Nesta falls under their lands. Their rule.

And now Cassian, who apparently had never defended Nesta once. Again. Nesta was In. The. Wrong. Her actions were beneficial and understandable but wrong. Cassian being upset and disappointed in her would absolutely make sense. Think of times in TOG, when Rowan wasn't happy with Aelin. He stood there silent until they were alone. That's more than likely what happened. Cassian didn't say his piece until everyone left. It's an argument between Nesta and Cassian and no one else.

That argument. The one that happened off page yet everyone wants to fucking crucify Cassian over cause you think you know what he said. When in reality you don't. Is wild. Three months ago, when she was with Emerie and Gwyn, they were taken and placed in the Blood Rite where he was helpless in going to her. He lost her briefly in the bog, watched her put her life at risk. How many times in acosf? He went a year or so watching Nesta absolutely ruin herself, had her lay over his body in front of Hybern, almost losing her, them, then too. Now, someone, a stranger and someone potentially dangerous, opened a portal in his living room where his mate was. And he wasn't there. All that trauma and ptsd he keeps on lock was blown wide open.

So now Cassian is a storm of emotions when he arrives home. Probably arrived mid argument between Nesta and Rhys, and the entire flight was given brief details of what's happening fueling his emotions. His fear, trauma, concern, disappointment, and anger. When Rhys leaves, Cassian and Nesta got into it. Sure he was pissed about the mask anyone would be. I would be. I personally think it goes on beyond that. Far beyond it. Nesta’s life, once again, was put a risk and no one knew what Bryce wanted. Cassian’s worst fear when the portal was open, was Bryce taking Nesta and never seeing her again. All that came out in their fight.

As readers, we know Bryce's intentions are good. They as characters who haven't been given the best view of Bryce dont believe it. Yes, I do think there needs to be more trust in Nesta. Especially where Rhys is considered. Cassian, as her mate, blowing things out of proportion is logical cause all mates have done it at some point. But yeah he needs to trust her a bit more too. He trusts her more than Rhys does that's for sure.

To play devil's advocate, I could be wrong on Cassian and Nesta and their fight. Absolutely. Im not Sarah. But neither are you who are wishing he dies, and Nesta leaves him over a risk that was never hers to make alone when it involves the whole world of Midgard.

If you read this entire thing and disagree. That's cool. The unfollow and block buttons are right there.

[beebeeswee]

i will be a juvia defender until the day i die.

i really do welcome anyone to dm me or send me an ask and i'll talk about this more - because i really think anti-juvias completely misunderstand both her and gray's characters, and the context of the show they're in.

juvia is a character who has been excluded her entire life, her magic made her abandoned by and outcasted from her peers and former romantic partners. then she meets gray, the only person in her whole life who has stopped the rain (and when he leaves her the rain comes back), and she falls in love with him and the rest of fairy tail, where she finds people who accept her wholeheartedly. i think it's beautiful that she's able to stay resilient and wear her heart on her sleeve after everything she'd been through.

gray is a character who doesn't believe he deserves love, he has such a deep self-loathing he can't imagine a world where he's worthy of happiness after 'everything he's done', and juvia is someone who loves him unconditionally, who never turns away from him, despite everything he's done to her. part of his development over the main series and 100yr quest is him realising that about himself. they heal each other.

the biggest complain that anti-gruvias have is that she's a 'sexual predator' and a 'stalker'. @ermbehindyou made the excellent point that if she's a sexual predator by that logic so is gray - his constant stripping (even infront of minors!) would be enough to get him on a list in pretty much every country in the world. but that is naturally ridiculous.

(mentioned multiple times in this scene that he is fully nude - not just in his underwear and wendy is on the boat the entire time).

fairy tail is a show that plays on sexual gags constantly, which i do take a real issue with. but that's the show, that's the humour and standards set from the beginning of the main series, and like most of the characterisation of the show, it has become insanely exaggerated as the series progressed. having said that, i think it's misogynistic to single out juvia's actions and ignore the actions of every other character. and i mean that.

call me a crazy feminist all you want but i think many of you are seeing a confident, unashamed female character with overt sexual desires and it repulses you, because it doesn't conform to society's standards of femininity. this was definitely not mashima's intentions when writing her - but his interpretations of her aren't relevant to this debate anyway are they?

i'll end this by saying juvia and gray truly match each other's freak when the humour allows it; but who show true and serious displays of selfless love for one another when it matters, and it's beautiful.

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Space Oddity, Part 2

“Fuck the rest of them. Fuck ‘em all. Fuck ‘em all, but us.”

Word Count: 4,509 words (gahdamn)

Tag List (please lmk if you want to be added!): @melodymunson , @ali-r3n , @amandahobblepot , @twihard28 , @hiimjulie

[Chapter One]

Author’s Note: Fuck me Freddy, at last I have completed fanfic. This chapter was so much fun to write, especially after watching Dinner in America and feeling so seen and validated about the weird, off putting girl and the badass boyfriend relationship.

Interesting fact about this chapter, I actually did have two friends who decided one day to randomly exclude me from their friend group. They wrote me two actual, dumb ass letters I pretended to read about how they thought I was weird and they didn’t want to be my friend. The first one they put in my locker and I pretended I didn’t get it. The second one they handed to me in PE where I proceeded to laugh at them, rip it up, then throw the pieces in the trash. People think that only happens in bad 80’s movies, but some high school girls can actually be that stupid and comic book villain mean.

*****

“Mike! Jesus Christ, don’t just throw her!”

You and Eddie were fumbling with the spilled contents of your trapper keeper, trying to collect each sheet of xerox and graph paper. Every so often, Eddie would accidentally bump your shoulder or accidentally knock into you, and when you both went in to pick up a caricature you’d done of Angus Young, his head hit your nose.

Hard.

“Augh! Sorry, buttercup!” He said, quickly reaching out with his hands, “You okay?”

“My nose hurts…” you mumbled.

“Come here, lemme see.”

His hands were on your cheeks, you were in too much pain to realize Eddie Munson was actually touching you.

“Owie… Yup, I can see where I bonked you.” He winced in sympathetic pain as his thumb brushed your injury, “But you’ll be alright, it’s not broken. Come on. Upsy daisy.”

Mike and Dustin were at each other’s throats. Dustin was reprimanding Mike for turning you into a human football, while Mike was defending his actions for making sure you “stopped acting like a tool”.

“Knock it off, assholes!” Eddie snapped.

Mike and Dustin immediately ceased their caterwauling, and looked like scolded chihuahuas, ducking away from Eddie who looked like he was going to throw a chair.

“God dammit, you’re giving me a headache.” He hissed, then turned to you.

All you could do was stand there, awkwardly digging the tip of your shoe into the carpet. Avoiding any and all eye contact.

“You look real familiar…” Eddie said, pointing a ringed finger at you, “I know you… Where do I know you from?”

“… I sit behind you in Mrs. O’Donnell’s Economics class.” You whispered.

Pure, unapologetic joy made his face bloom pink, a dimpled smile gracing his features as his dark brown eyes sparkled with stars. Eddie clapped his hands, jabbing a finger in your general direction and then pacing side to side with his arms crossed.

“I knew it! I do remember you! You’re the funny chick who drew Figment the Dragon on the chalkboard, and then did the T. Rex thing with your hands when The ’Donnell tried to erase it!”

Eddie tucked his arms to his chest and made a terrific mimic of your high pitched screech, causing his friends to laugh hard and their eyes to light up in recognition. Your eyes widened, and you wanted to immediately die. Naively you didn’t think anyone had remembered your stand against O’Donnell and her dislike for Disney related media. She told you this wasn’t Mr. Miller’s art class. Of course, you let her have it, and it almost cost you a detention — and permanent placement in Hawkins High School’s joke of a Special Education program — until your mother came down to the school with her attorney from Indianapolis and raised hell, both of them threatening Principal Higgins, Mrs. O’Donnell, and the school Superintendent with a discrimination lawsuit. Since then you’d done even more outrageous shit to make everyone forget and keep away the bullying, surely this one time would have been buried in the numerous instances of other out of pocket things you did?!

Nope. Evidently the Figment Incident was the talk of Hellfire Club, and your crush could replicate your noises to a T.

“Oh shit! You’re the Dragon Lady!” said a guy in a Black Sabbath raglan with blue sleeves.

“The Badass herself in the flesh!” interjected one with curly hair.

“You’re a goddamn legend, dude!” laughed one guy that was eating Doritos by the handful, “We even made you into a character in one of our campaigns! She’s a wizard with a purple dragon — of course we named it Figment — and they communicate in Draconic Tongue to one another!”

“Like this!”

Eddie screeched again, and the guys burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help but cover your face with your trapper keeper. If there was a God, you wanted him to burst out of the sky in a puff of smoke and smite you and everyone else in the room with lightning bolts.

“After that time, you didn’t ever get out of your desk chair again.” Eddie said, crossing his arms after he stopped laughing, “Always sitting in back, keeping to yourself. I don’t think I’ve even heard you say more than three words to anyone all semester.”

Stepping lightly, Eddie began to circle you. Looking you up and down, cocking his head to the side and doing a little bit of an arrogant head waggle.

“Didn’t peg you for a D&D nerd, buttercup.” He said, his voice gaining a sudden confidence as he stepped to you, “By the look of this dandelion yellow sweater, I would have guessed you’d be more the Seventeen Magazine and like, naked slumber party pillow fights with fellow screamers kind of girl.”

You shook your head. You stopped buying Seventeen Magazine when your attempts to apply their makeup lessons to your everyday routine made you look like a KISS reject. And you’d never even had enough friends for a slumber party.

“You like to draw, huh?” He asked.

He was fishing for a reaction. Trying to make you talk.

You nodded.

“What else?”

“… I like to read…”

His head tilted to the side.

“Yeah? What do you like to read? You ever read anything by Rose Estes or Fritz Leiber?”

“Are you two gonna stand there flirting all night, or are we gonna roll some dice?” Cried out one of the boys, the one with the curly hair.

“Yeah man, does the lady even have a character?”

“Oh she’s got a goddamn character!” Mike interjected confidently while Dustin nodded.

“The best character, a tanky character, real hardcore shit.” Dustin said.

Eddie chuckled darkly, looking at you with a menacing grin as he got in your face.

“What’s your character, buttercup? Level one human fighter?” He teased.

“A cleric…” you whispered.

Eyebrows raised. He looked up, thought for a moment, pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Okay. Yeah… yeah I can see that.” He nodded, looking you over, “A little tough tootsie badass, but you’ve got a soft spot as a healer for a holy order. I can dig it.”

Rapid fire, he then began tossing a million questions your way, so fast and in a run on you had to stop to listen to keep up.

“You didn’t tell me your race though. What is it? Hengeyokai? Gnome? Half-orc? What domain did you choose? Life? Arcana? How about your weapon, did you pick a claymore?” With each question, his sneer grew.

Mike and Dustin looked on fearfully, worried that you could not answer him. They knew Eddie was sizing you up, setting a trap with his trick questions. The claymore was a clever way for him to catch you on your bullshit, to see if you were even paying attention.

Suddenly, as if possessed by a cambion, you began to unload on him in a trance-like monotone. Pulling out a character study where you’d spent all last period drawing the same Siouxsie Sioux-esque vamp beauty of a character that made up your D&D creation, you waved the character sheet in his face while you began monologuing.

“Um no… so, Shadowmoon is a level ten half-elf cleric of Shar — I picked Trickery domain for her — and she’s like cursed by the Lady of Sorrows so her morals are like, super flexible and kinda fucked up. And she’s got like, a Sharran morningstar because I know that clerics in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons can’t have any other weapons besides a morningstar and it’s really useful for her, and I wanted to make her a healer for the party because Dustin said everyone else mainly tanks but no one wants to play support, and I think a cleric could be useful because then maybe she could help be the face of the group — do you already have a group face? Shadowmoon would make a good face because she’s gothic and really pretty. And then like, Shadowmoon would be good at lying because she could like… cast Guidance to help with her high charisma modifier-…”

“How did you end up choosing Trickery?” Eddie interrupted, snatching your character sheet from your hands.

You paused, thought it over carefully, then tried again.

“Uh… Shadowmoon was already part of my story I’m writing, so, I thought Trickery fit her personality best because she’s like, pretending to be this honest healer to everyone when really she’s on a mission to deliver an artifact to her temple on a mission from her dark goddess. She’s um… she’s a Chaotic Neutral so like, she could get along with everyone and either murderhobo her way through encounters or maybe she can change into good halfway...”

You trailed off when you noticed that Eddie hadn’t really reacted at all to your lore dump. He wasn’t really paying much attention to you at all. Nose pressed to the paper, he was engrossed in your character sheet.

Immediately you panicked, thinking Dustin and Mike had been bullshitting and lying to you about Eddie liking girls who knew what they were talking about when it came to Dungeons & Dragons. He almost had that look on his face: the one you dreaded where the eyes would glass over, and you could tell someone wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. As if they were bored of your rambling. Bored of you. It was the look that made you want to scream and cry, and lash out.

But to your surprise, Eddie handed you back your character sheet, and smiled.

“Not only do you have your backstory mapped out, but you’re making connections to your own story setting… You’re a full on closet nerd, aren’t you, buttercup?” He said.

“… I like fantasy and sci-fi.” You muttered.

Pause, and then he laughed.

“The cyberman fighting the chimera you drew in the corner near the Special Abilities area kind of tipped me off to that.” He smiled, pointing to the drawing on your sheet.

Quickly you snatched Shadowmoon’s sheet back. Tucking it into your body, you shrunk in on yourself and avoided looking at Eddie.

“So you wanna join Hellfire, yeah?” He asked, once again crossing his arms and pacing around you.

“You think you can handle sitting with the freaks at lunch? Take a couple hits to your social life? Maybe even take a few blows…?”

You nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to join! Your heart was pounding, and your mouth started to salivate. He’d even offered to let you sit at the lunch table with him and his friends!

“You certainly seem like you’re okay with it, but let me ask this…”

Eddie got right into your face. So close, you could smell the lingering notes of Old Spice deodorant and Sea Breeze. Hell, you could even see the areas of his chin that were lightly spotted with acne and the blue of his incoming beard. His breath was warm on your face. Steaming even. A waft of sweet tobacco hit your nostrils.

“What makes you think a mousy little buttercup like you would even fit in with a group of degenerates like us?” He asked, voice so low you had to lean in to hear him better.

“We’re not the chess club, and we’re not the Doctor Who club. This is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. We’re the freaks, the underdogs of Hawkins High. The losers with too much time and imagination on our hands to do shit else.”

You gulped. He was pressing almost nose to nose with you. Staring you down and following your gaze when you looked at the floor.

“We are the weirdos your momma warned you about, little miss. You think you can handle us?” He murmured.

“… ‘malreadyweird…” you mumbled.

Immediately he pulled back, blinking.

“Huh?”

“I said: I’m already a weirdo.”

The rest was automatic. Shoulders up, arms and trapper keeper tucked further to your chest as you turned away from Eddie, insecurity creeping up into your heart as you grimaced.

“I’m the weirdo bitch who doesn’t have any friends, and who according to Shelley Warab in first period is ‘a fucking lunatic who is always drawing attention to herself’.” You said.

Eddie had looked confused, until the weight of your words sunk in.

“Drawing attention to yourse—… oh, hell no…”

“Drawing” attention to yourself, that was Shelley Warab’s attempt at a double entendre. But it was the furthest thing from the truth. If anything, you hid your drawings after the Figment Incident, and only drew during lecture on your own paper, when no one would talk to or look at you.

“And because Shelley Warab thinks you’re “drawing” attention to yourself, the other girls pick on you too, don’t they?” Eddie asked softly.

Your silence was all the confirmation he needed.

A large hand engulfed your shoulder. Shaking, with righteous fury. You looked up at him.

Eddie looked ready to burn down the school.

“They’re jealous. You know that right? Those jealous bitches are lost souls.” He hissed, “All they know how to do is steal daddy’s money to pay for acid, because they can’t come up with one goddamn original thought while sober. You can conjure up these elaborate, creative pieces like magic, and they hate it. Your talent makes them feel inadequate, so they try to drag you through the horseshit to make you stop. Don’t listen to them.”

You didn’t know what to say. You looked down shamefully, the Bitch of Hawkins High had her walls ripped down at last.

“Come on Eddie… look at her.” Dustin said softly, “You told us to look for the little lost sheep who didn’t fit in.”

All of your classmates said you were worse than the freaks. To them you were a mean girl. A bitch. The weird asshole who screamed at people and didn’t let boys like Tommy Hagan or Billy Hargrove come within five feet of your person before you started throwing sharp things at them.

“You’re damn right, Henderson.” Eddie responded, his voice just as soft as the fluff on a kitten.

“She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for: a shivering, lost little lamb… with no flock of her own to follow.”

His grip loosened, and he began to gently massage your shoulder.

“What say you, buttercup?” He asked, voice sweet and smooth as mulled honey wine, “You wanna be my little sheep?”

…

It had taken four years.

Four long, arduous, horrible years… Four years of screaming meltdowns. Uncontrollable rage bubbling up in your throat at the frustration of being excluded. At the lack of understanding. Nobody ever invited you to anything. No parties. No sleepovers. Not even to go to the bathroom together in solidarity.

Four lonely, long, miserable years… and someone had finally invited you to their group, saying you could belong…

The tears spilled out of your eyes in microseconds.

“Hey, hey! Sweetheart, don’t cry…”

Calloused ringed fingers were immediately wiping tears from your soft cheeks, patting you softly to calm you down. Eddie’s expressive, dark cognac colored eyes looked almost watery — like he was going to cry too — his brows furrowing into a frown as his facade of an intimidating freak immediately dropped.

“No…! None of that, sugarplum. You’re alright. There’s no crying in Hellfire Club, okay? You belong here, don’t cry…”

“R… really?”

His dimpled smile was so genuine, it made you ache.

“Really. You’re one of the black sheep now, buttercup. Welcome to Hellfire.”

The leather of his Schott jacket squeaked as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, free hand rubbing your deltoid as you instinctively pressed closer to him. You would have never guessed, but Eddie was particularly touchy. It was as if he wanted to be close to you at all times. Even if you pulled away a little bit to readjust, his hand came right back to the same position.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the weirdos.” He said, leading you towards the others.

You rode the high of the night. You made new friends in Jeff, Frank, and Gareth, as they were chomping at the bit to get to know the infamous “Dragon Lady” who had doodled a near perfect copy of an obscure Disney character. Frank was in the middle of asking you to design a tattoo for him of Maleficent in her draconic form when Eddie called the session to order.

“So we’re going right into our main campaign for tonight, and I’ll give everyone an opportunity to introduce themselves to our new party cleric…” he looked at you and held out a hand from behind his DM screen.

“Shadowmoon.” You corrected him.

“Ah yes, the ever so cunning and duplicitous Shadowmoon; our very own half-elf Cleric of Shar, the shadowy seductress that is Our Lady of Loss.” His voice took on a low, deadly tone, as if evoking the name of Shadowmoon’s goddess would provoke divine wrath, “Hope you and Shadowmoon can handle a few good curveballs tonight, might be overwhelming… but any girl who can pick Lady Shar as a patron can handle my brand of freak.”

“I’ll work hard.” You nodded.

“Good girl.”

The campaign’s overall atmosphere was a success. You asked genuine questions, feeling comfortable when you noticed Dustin was right. No one had all the answers. The boys still looked at their character sheets and flipped through the handbook if they needed to look up an effect (even Eddie did it a few times when a player question gave him pause).

You got to name the party. Gareth had drawn a rather regal coat of arms for your ragtag group, and because he’d added the silhouette of a game bird that Frank argued looked like a chicken, you began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, his serious facade slipping when he saw you smile and show teeth.

“We… it… with that chicken on our coat of arms… We’re the Band of the Cock!” You shrieked.

Immediately there was a cacophony of screams, chaos, laughter, and a few d4’s launched at your spinning, grinning head as you laughed into your hands. Playing with the boys, belonging to a group… it was all so fun!

Eddie laughed at your jokes, even when they fell a little flat. With the group’s combined social awkwardness and typical behaviors, your own tics didn’t even phase them. If you popped your mouth in a certain way, it would set off the person next to you until everyone was doing it. The guys helped you with math if you fucked up adding modifiers, but they did it in a way that didn’t make you feel stupid. Even Eddie helped you look up spell effects if you didn’t know offhand.

Hellfire Club was fucking fun.

And you were having a blast showing off and earning the affection of Eddie the Freak.

You were sorry when the two hours were up, and everyone was packing their things up and heading home for the night.

“Do you need help cleaning up…?” You asked.

Eddie looked up from rolling up his butcher paper map.

“Hmm? Nah, I got it.” He said, shaking his head as he continued, “You did good tonight, you know. Your timing was perfect, you did well managing your spell slots for Healing Word, and you even took Cornell Notes for our party. None of my little misfits even writes down their damn inventory, let alone takes Cornell Notes for the party.”

You shrugged, chewing on a hangnail.

“I just wanted to be of help… to really try.” You said.

“You didn’t just try, you killed it out there! Now I know I can rely on you to mother hen this gang of muppets that makes up our party.”

There was comfortable silence between the two of you. Even though it was late, you were willing to walk home in the dark if it meant you could just be around Eddie for a little while longer.

But something had been nagging the back of your mind… Ever since you had found out that Eddie Munson was DMing this campaign, the memories of the inception of your middle school crush on him had come back in full force.

“Um… Eddie?” You ventured.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He looked up.

“Um… do you… in middle school… do you remember finding a note in your locker…?” You asked softly.

“… I do, yeah.” He said cautiously, “Why do you ask…?”

“Do you… do you remember the poem in it?”

He stopped what he was doing, looked up at you with wide, dark eyes.

“It um… it was about light and stuff, and uh… it didn’t have a name signed on it, but there was a picture on the bottom of a fairy holding a lantern…”

“How the hell do you know about that!?” He asked.

He began to approach you, his chest heaving.

“I never even told anyone about that poem-… Did… did you write that note? Is that how you know about it?” He demanded.

“… yes…” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you sign it?!” He asked.

His face was contorted. A desperate look. As if he was going to cry.

“… because I was scared…” you said.

“Scared of what? Of me?!”

“No…”

Never. You could never be scared of Eddie. He was amazing. He was the definition of cool. You desired him biblically.

“No… I was scared that… that you wouldn’t like me…” you said softly, “I loved your performance at the talent show so much… and I wanted to talk to you after, but then you got sent to Mr. Coleman’s office for playing Exciter. So I wrote the poem for you, and… I didn’t ever find out if you liked it because I was too shy to ask if you’d read it. Then you went on to high school, and I didn’t see you anymore.”

There was silence. Backing away from you, he wiped his mouth, exhaling a deep sigh.

“I can’t believe it…” he said, shaking his head and running his fingers through his shaggy hair, “I thought about that poem for years… First I thought it was someone playing a prank, but it wasn’t mean. It was so… it was earnest, and heartfelt… and you didn’t even sign it.”

He looked back at you.

“How could you think I wouldn’t like you after you wrote something like that for me?” Eddie asked.

“You always stared at every other girl but me.” You said, “And then I heard a rumor you almost left for California with this punk rocker chick during senior year, and I thought… Well, I knew I didn’t stand a chance because I’m not stylish. And when I heard you got held back, and that you’d be in my year, I wanted to talk to you. But… freshman year I tried making friends, and because I fucked that up, all the rumors started and everyone called me a creepy, angry bitch...”

It all in the end came back to Shelley Warab. She had been the first person you’d tried to make friends with. Moderate popularity, middle class, dirty blonde hair, she should have dominated in the halls as the queen bee. But the cheerleaders hated her because she always tried to hang off the arm of the nearest quarterback or point guard, and the cheerleaders happened to already be dating said sportsmen when Shelley tried to get in their pants. Her locker was often decorated with the word “WHORE” written in red Maybelline lipstick.

So Shelley decided to form her own clique if no others would accept her. That included you: a bright eyed freshman from the middle school that everyone overlooked because you never talked to anyone, along with several other girls of varying degrees of loneliness. She ruled over all of you with an iron fist. Trying to mold you all into her own idea of a clique that would make mean girls like Carol Perkins (the main culprit of the Maybelline insults) kowtow to her self-made band of bitches.

One day at lunch forever changed your fate. Shelley decided to go through each girl’s knapsack and dump out the contents on the lunch table, judging her subjects on the personal effects they kept within. A particularly timid friend was being dressed down for balled up gym socks, and you stood up and asked how Shelley would like it if you took her Avon tote bag over to the garbage, tipped it upside down, and dumped every single bit of its contents into the slop created from a mixture of coleslaw and uneaten sloppy joes.

Justice was swift. Carol Perkins overheard your threat and laughed at Shelley for “getting gutted by a freak”. Shelley told you to leave, and the next day at lunch had the audacity to present an honest to god manifesto written in purple pen about how no one at the table wanted you to sit with them anymore, complete with signatures. Carol had of course laughed at you next for this rejection, so you lunged at her and screeched like a pteranodon in her face, ripping up the letter like confetti and dumping it all over Carol and Shelley’s watery cafeteria spaghetti, before turning over their trays in their laps.

It was a chain reaction of outbursts afterwards. Then the Figment Incident happened, making you untouchable, because the students knew your mother wielded her attorney like a sword. Even bullies like Billy Hargrove who didn’t care about any authority figure or law enforcement officer avoided you like the plague because you weren’t afraid to threaten to use your pencil to blind them.

Your rage kept everyone away. The one armor you possessed.

“You think I give a shit about rumors?!”

Eddie once again had you by the shoulders, his grip tight as he almost shook you with rage. His eyes burned with hurt, betrayal…

And… desire?

“Those rumors… that’s all just fucking bullshit!” He snapped, “You’re not a creepy bitch. You’re funny, you’re exciting, and you make all these adorable noises-…”

“… I am angry and bitchy all the time though…”

“Okay maybe a little, but I am too.” Eddie conceded, “But that’s because everything and everyone in this town sucks. But you don’t suck. You’re smart, and sweet, and kind… and… damn it… you’re beautiful.”

He was so close… So indignant, his righteous fury lighting a spark in his eyes that made you lean into him.

“All of that hellfire in you, that anger… god, it makes you a bonafide badass.” Eddie said, pulling you in close to his chest and rocking you side to side.

When you felt his fervent kisses pepper your scalp, you began to cry again. He pulled you in tighter, his kisses trailing down to your forehead, thence to cheeks, thence to capture your lips in a fiery, passionate make out session where he bit your lower lip to slip the tongue. You both pulled away breathless, and he kissed you one more time before pointing a finger right in your face.

“You’re the most metal fucking girl in all of Hawkins High. And anyone who says differently is a goddamn moron.”

[carmenberzattosgf]

I am a Carmy apologist until the day I die. I will quite literally defend every single one of his actions in season three without any guilt like I am his lawyer