#imagine seeing polar opposites walking down the street holding hands

[roszabell]

collab with beloved @doomspiral, These two do not have normal date nights and it’s both of their faults

tumblr fucked the quality please zoom

[sundew199]

Fruitless.

Tags: angst. No specific P/N’s used. Marleyan/Eldian reader.

A/N: was sad and wrote this little drabble, oppsies

He always like they way you looked in the pristine white Marleyan uniform, how your skin would glow even in the shadows as he stole glances. You were meticulous in presentation when showing up to headquarters, insuring there wasn’t a spec of dirt anywhere present.

In Reiner’s mind you were pure, and not in the way of chasity, but in heart and soul. He questioned how he even came to be so deserving to have you in his life. Everything good went back to you, and everything bad connected back to him. Polar opposites and yet he found every day spent away from you pure agony, like parts of his soul were withering away when he were on the battlefield and you were back here on base sorting through papers.

Daydreaming a life spent with you away from Marley and Liberio in a way kept him sane, blockaded the dark depricating thoughts and gave him a moment of peace. He liked to imagine you barefoot in the kitchen of a house he would build for you, so lost in your task that he could admire the sight before him. Reiner would imagine himself sneaking up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into the side of your head and pretending the life he currently lived didn’t exist.

All of that was an empty fruitless dream and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop the imagery of a life spent with you, away from the brutalities of this world and instead in a world where his life wasn’t numbered by years. Reiner wanted everything with you, even if deep down he knew he couldn’t provide it all. If by some miracle a chance presents itself to live with you in a quaint apartment in Liberio and bring life to his little day dreams, he would take it. It would be selfish of him yes but he only had four more years left to live and he wanted to spent it with you. But then again would it be fair to give you a sliver of a life spent with him only to rip it out from under you when he eventually had to pass down the armored?

No.

Anything but fair and that’s where Reiner found himself torn between selfishness and selflessness. He’d never get to have anything more than the occasional nights spent crammed together in the bed of his childhood room, holding you so close he at times thought he’d squeeze the life out of you. Deep down Reiner was scared for the day he’d see you for the last time, for when he’d kiss you one last time and for the final utterance of “I love you” before becoming nothing more than a memory to you.

You’d grow old and he’d stay twenty five. He’d hold onto the love you gave him until his final breath while you moved onto another. Reiner would dream of the family he always wish to have with you while you went on to create your own, with someone who wasn’t limited to thirteen years. Reiner would feel the phantom brush of your hand on his as you walked together down the street of Liberio after leaving the headquarters, savoring the warmth your dainty hand provided. Reiner would see your face and smile as he succummed to his fate while passing on the armored, wishing he knew of a way to spend a thousand lifetimes with you, because one just wasn’t enough, it would never be enough knowing his time with you would always be limited. Everything Reiner yearned for you as fruitless, never to be.

[bts-0t-7]

Slithered | JJK | Chapter 3

Pair: Mafia Jungkook x F Reader 

Summary: Jungkook was wandering the streets in the middle of the night and coincidentally passed the little flower shop you work at. Due to your odd working hours, you don’t have much socialising on a daily basis much less customers. So just imagine your shock when a handsome man, clad in all black, entered your shop in the ungodly hours of the night. Never would you have thought that the polar opposite of the worlds would collide and cause such a trouble.��

Genre: Fluff, mafia au, soft reader 

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of rape incidents from previous chapters, PTSD

WC: 2405

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Jungkook trudged back to his room. After your incident two days ago, he refused to bathe in his own bathroom. It was bad enough that every morning when he entered, he was reminded of how much later he could have gotten in. Reminding him that if it wasn’t for Yoongi Hyung, you would have already been ashes in an urn by his bedside table. 

He had opened a search to find out your details.

Your address, your family, your friends, everything that they could possibly find. And as he read through the consolidated efforts of his men, there were just too many things that didn’t make sense to him. But he knew better than to ask you now. 

If you woke up, that is. 

Doctor Eun had warned them to not panic if they were to take longer to wake up. He had explained that your body was weak and needed extra time to recover from what you have gone through. But it did not stop any of his Hyungs from barging into his room every day, ensuring that they check up on you. It soon became somewhat of a routine as his Hyungs constantly took turns to visit you every hour. 

He threw his towel on the loveseat, walked over to push back the covers and slid under them. He then carefully adjusted the ruffled covers back over you, ensuring that they covered until your shoulders and still had more fabric as a leeway. 

With a tired sigh, Jungkook smothered his face on his pillow and fell asleep with the blanket only hanging at his waist. 

This was the second time you woke up in the same room. Lightheaded, you tried to get out of the bed. 

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing?” A voice sounded beside you. 

You turned, eyes blown wide as you anticipated the worst. The first thing you see is a head of messy hair, sticking in all directions before you notice the tired-looking eyes boring straight into your soul. The man lifted his arm and wrapped it around your waist, bringing you closer to the heat of his body. 

You acted, throwing a punch directly to his face. 

Bad move. 

The man on your bed - technically not yours but who cares for technicality now - caught it and pinned you down with a flick of his wrist. Burrowing his head in your neck, you saw the strains of his shoulders. He wasn’t completely let go of his weight so…

“Who are you!” You pushed him away, hand going to the bedside table, trying to find anything that could be used as a weapon. The man quickly hopped off the bed, drawing the curtains as you squinted at the sudden attack of light. The room was so dark you could barely see a thing before. It wasn’t until your eyes finally adjusted to the difference did you see the moonlight shining through the sheer curtains, casting a light glow on your frames. 

And it was also then did you realised who your bed partner was. 

Jungkook. 

The over-ecstatic bunny in the morning that refused to let you go. 

Jungkook must have seen the recognition in your eyes as he slowly walked back to the bed, hands in the air in a surrender position. 

"Hey, hey." Jungkook called out. 

You weren't sure how trustworthy the men in this house were. God, you don't even know their names! You curled up in a sitting position at the edge of the bed, almost falling over. When Jungkook sat on the bed, you instinctively scooted backwards, clashing against the bedside table. 

You squeaked in pain, holding your back, forgetting that there was nothing but the cold hard ground awaiting your downfall. Your eyes largened as you felt yourself falling back, hands flailing out, trying to grasp onto something - anything - 

Strong arms wrapped your waist and pulled you forward. Your face smashed against a toned chest as you felt the blankets beneath you being pulled downwards and wrapped around your body. For the next few moments, the only sound in the room was your harsh breathing. It was so silent that you swore Jungkook could hear your heartbeat. 

The both of you stayed in that position for a few minutes - or it could be hours or even just seconds - you didn't know. But you knew that the heat radiating from Jungkook's body was like a blasting furnace and you were warm. And when you are warm, you feel cuddly. And when you feel cuddly, you feel sleepy. Your eyelids grew heavier by the second and you closed them. You knew you shouldn't be so trusting but they have yet to do anything that caused you to feel wrong. Jungkook has yet to do anything that oppresses you. So you closed your eyes and leaned closer to him, cuddling deeper into his warmth and fell asleep. 

That was the last thing you remembered before you woke up again, but this time, in the arms of a toned-ass man.

Jungkook. 

Hell, now that the late morning sun is shining through the curtains, you are able to see what you weren't last night. Jungkook was without a shirt and the full glory of his slim waist and toned abs were fully on show for your innocent eyes to see. Well, you weren't that innocent. But you were still a lady - a woman - and you still had your needs that were obviously taken far too long to satisfy. But you weren't about to go imagining someone you can never get - you weren't about to hurt yourself again. 

You were brought out of your wandering thoughts when the soft snores exiting Jungkook's plush bow-shaped lips reached your ears. A small smile lifted the edges of your lips as you sleepily yawned. Wiggling out of his hold - for God damn he is strong as a bull - proved to be harder than it seems. Jungkook's arms locked you in place and you couldn't seem to get out no matter how hard you tried to prod and push him. 

"Mhmm, noooo." The man cuddling your back whined. "No, it's not time to wake up yet. Stop movingggg."

You didn't. Obviously. 

The hold on your waist only tightened even further. "Stoooppp."

You pushed his hands off of you. "Jungkook, please." You resorted to begging him out. "I need to wee."

Jungkook's eyes shot open, hands immediately leaving you as you took that chance to leap out of bed and bound over to the washroom. 

Jungkook swore he should've heard it wrong. Jungkook swore that he must have heard it wrong. 

Nobody explicitly told you who he is. Nobody had given you enough pointers to let you know that he was the one who saved you in that alley. Not that he needed you to know. But he didn't know - oh, he should've expected it - for you to have been so smart. You figured it out so quickly - who he was. 

Unbelievable.

But he needed to check. To know. To be sure - that what he heard was correct. 

He saw your dishevelled state coming out of the washroom, hands going up to scratch your hair. While he had a massive bedhead, your hair looked like it was shinier after sleep. Oh, how he wished that he could have that sort of blessing too. Then he wouldn't have to take so much time to wash and style his hair every morning. He could just get out of bed and leave. 

Your eyes made contact with his and immediately shot back down to the floor, suddenly feeling anxious. Your hands fiddled with the hem of his shirt as your teeth worried your bottom lip. Jungkook had to physically hold himself back from jumping right onto you. He wanted to take those soft, plump lips and give them a taste. He wanted to make sure they never get sore from you constantly biting them (Jungkook found out one of your habits now). 

Jungkook pulled on his restraint string and blew a deep breath out. He walked over to you, hands going down to grasp yours in his. He turned your hands over in his, admiring the size difference. It wasn't big but it was enough to make him almost coo out loud. 

"Hey now -" Jungkook started before your stomach grumbled. 

The silence in the air was permeating. 

Jungkook snorted, falling to the floor with laughter. By no means was he laughing at you. No, he was laughing at the situation - how your hunger had directly stopped him in the tracks of his confession. If anything, he felt like Jimin Hyung right now. He knew all too well how much he was always stopped in his tracks from doing things he best wished for for the sake of his job. But this was something different. 

Jungkook looked up with teary eyes and spotted your slight pout, making him laugh even harder. As he slowly got up from the floor, he extended out his hand to you. “Come on, let’s go and get something for your ever-hungry system.”

Jungkook did not expect you to actually take his hand, let alone hold it the whole way down. But who was complaining?

Oh, definitely not him. 

He led you to the kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge to find food. Finding a bag of opened buckwheat noodles, cucumber, seaweed flakes, eggs, and canned tuna, Jungkook decided to whip up a mean Memil Guksu (메밀 막국수). Jungkook whipped out Seokjin’s favourite pot and started boiling the water. After mastering the art of flourishing the noodles in the pot, JUngkook left them to boil as he combined all the sauce ingredients - soy sauce, tsuyu sauce, perilla oil, sugar, and roasted sesame seeds with a tablespoon of water. Then he chopped all the ingredients and placed them aside. After ensuring that the noodles are thoroughly cooked, rinsing them under cold water for a few seconds was a necessity. 

Placing them in the bowls, Jungkook topped the noodles off with the sauce, sliced ingredients, and tuna, garnishing them with extra sesame seeds and a handful of seaweed flakes. 

“Tada!” Jungkook placed the big metal bowl in front of you with chopsticks in hand. 

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. Jungkook didn’t wait for anybody before he dug into his meal. 

You had to admire this man’s spirit of trying to uplift you. Anyone could see that he was trying his best. But you didn’t know if you could. You felt… different - dirty. 

You wanted it off but you -

“Hey.” Jungkook’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts. “You okay? Maybe you don’t like the food? Should I have Yoongi Hyung cook instead? Or maybe Jin Hyung? Or maybe you’re allergic to -”

You placed a soft hand on his shoulder. “It’s not you… It’s just…” Your hands fiddled with the hem of the shirt. You weren’t sure if you should be telling him this. He had no obligation to you and you shouldn’t be using him as a free-range therapist too. But you were just so tired of dealing with it yourself. “It’s just… I feel so…”

You didn’t really know how to express it in words. 

Disgusted? Humiliated?

You felt the urge to scratch. 

You weren’t sure how he was going to react when you told him. He saw you and saved you, but everyone can change in the blink of an eye. You aren’t sure how he would react. Would he cast you aside? Leave you for the wolves? 

But on the other hand, why would you care? Why should you care? The both of you aren’t close. He saved you and now you can leave. So why do you feel so hooked?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head. “I want to. I just…”

Words won’t form. 

“Okay… How about you show me instead if there are no right words? Sometimes words can be difficult, right?”

You nodded. 

But how were you going to show him? Strip? 

You hesitated again. How? 

“The feeling - it -”

You tried to look at Jungkook, tried to gain some of his courage to say what you wanted to say. You worried yourself over him not accepting you but all you saw were open eyes. The windows were wide open like he was the one pouring his soul to you. 

“Dirty.” You tucked your head down again. “Humiliated. I feel so… so… nasty… It - I wanted to stop it but I couldn’t! I tried - I tried - I didn’t want to -” You cried out. “I - I -”

Large palms ran up and down your shoulder in a light, soothing manner. 

“Okay, I understand what you’re trying to tell me. I know, I saw.”

You placed yourself in his hold. “I tried but - but… I’m so tired I couldn’t.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything. He just held you, tightly and you were glad for the silent comfort. You didn’t really want words just a steady presence and Jungkook gave you all. You were crying - bawling - you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were finally letting go, sharing this with somebody else. 

You held the burden for long enough and you knew - you just knew - that you trusted him. A deep-rooted type of fear of being left in the dust again sits dormant in the pit of your stomach. But trust, you had - so trust, you believe. 

Your eyelids grew heavy as your breath evened out, you fought the urge to fall asleep again but the comforting soothes were too much for your tired body so you gave in. You swore this was the most you have slept in a really long time. With your schedules, you were grateful enough to even get past four hours of sleep.

Things will definitely take time to go back to how they were before the incident. Maybe you will never be how you used to be. Maybe this scar will never heal. But you knew that you would heal. This would will leave a scar that serves as a battle reminder - that you were strong and will always be strong. So as you let yourself lose in Jungkook’s arms, you knew that you could trust him. You didn’t know what life would throw in your path but you were certain that this man - and you, would stand for each other. 

Trust.

You were certain. 

Trust. 

[tmntxthings]

You never ceases to surprise me, that yandere Raph was a BLAST to read, speaking of yanderes, out of the four brothers who would be least to most likely kidnap the reader, or like who would do it the fastest depending on the situations. Like you mentioned in the yandere Raph oneshot he only intervened when he saw that the reader was hurt. Who knows how long he could have kept up with just watching them from afar, he would be bound to break eventually. But now's the question, how would Leo and Mikey be like? or, dare I ask… all of them at once.

I think the dynamic would be platonic if they all are yandere for you, for reasons. They would view you as their defenseless sibling, they have many enemies that want the turtles dead so it wouldn't be wrong to assume that they'd use you as a way to get to them. But that would only be one of their reasons for keeping you in their bais, they all have different wants and needs. Although those desires sometimes clash with one another they ultimately band together in hopes of keeping you safe from their enemies (and the world in general).

Depending on how you handle the situation things can either go really smoothly for you or the complete opposite. If you comply with their demands then you will be able to move around the lair freely without suspicion or with one of the brothers following you 24/7, practically breathing down your neck. You might even be able to leave from time to time, granted that at least two of them are watching over you as you walk through the streets. But on the other hand if you were to be stubborn then they will restrain the hell out of your freedom. You are locked in one of their rooms with said brother constantly looking over you, escape is near impossible, their fears of you leaving has led to them creating a night shift schedule. They all switch who watches each night, first it's Leo, Donnie, Mikey and then Raph. They would be doing this till stockholm syndrome kicks in, then you would no longer be yourself, you would be there's. Theres to take care of, theres to have fun with, theres and nobody else's.

ahhhh >\\\\\\\< im so glad you enjoyed hehe,

right!! yandere!raph would’ve kept on stalking until he found a justifiable reason to ‘help’ reader, I think Mikey would have the least amount of self control, being the youngest and more impulsive with his actions, he could easily convince himself he’s helping reader and that’s all it would take! Leo would be similar to Raph in my opinion, he could be patient, or just be satisfied by watching/waiting for a while

all of the brothers though!? they wouldn’t be able to hold back as maybe Raph or Leo could individually, all it would take would be one suggestion, “Y/n would just be safer in the lair! They’ll see that with time! We shouldn’t gamble with their safety like this!! Let’s just bring them here now.” The resistance to such an idea would crumble :D

I definitely agree with you about reader’s reaction! Depending on how they react they would either have some freedom or none at all. Can you imagine the full force of all the turtles brothers keeping you hostage?! Chances of escape: slim to none, I would guess that reader would have one true chance of getting away in the beginning but after that? zilch. zero. not possible!

I think I would be most afraid of Mikey though, his unpredictability, he’d definitely be bi-polar as a yandere… “Please Mikey, I can’t stay here anymore! I’ve got parents!! Friends!!!”

His smile that had been ever present on his face slips. He has this deadpanned look about him as he turns to you, away from the show he had been forcing you to watch. “You rather watch something else? Space Heroes?” He offers, it’s a warning, don’t bring up them. He’s your family now. He’s your best friend! You have him and his brothers, no one else matters! “Mikey..” you whimper and he cuts you off groaning. Jumping up and starting to pace in front of the paused screen. “I don’t understand. You should be happy! Why can’t you just be happy?! Here. With. Me.”

He’ll only calm down if you switch gears, promising that you are happy. That it’s totally fun to watch Mikey’s show. The tension in his shoulders and the crazed look in his eyes with disappear in a blink of an eye, his happy go lucky smile back in place! “See I knew you would come around!” <3

love love love our convos hehe so glad to hear from you <33333 hope you’re doing well and I’d love to hear your thoughts on who you would be most afraid of/nervous about in yandere au

[micasaessakusa]

Faults

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader Genre: Angst Word Count: 2.421 words

It’s his fault, Akaashi thinks.

How and why he thought you would ever be satisfied with a man like him was beyond him. He guesses it’s his own fault for letting himself believe that he was worthy enough of your attention, deserving enough to be picked, simply enough to replace the one before him - the one who held your heart. 

And now as he stares at you and him, he realizes - the man in front of you still holds your heart.

For all his insecurities, Akaashi recognizes that it wasn’t entirely his fault why he became so enamored with you. How could he not be, when for the past three years you’ve been showering him with affection, looking into his eyes as if he’s the only man you’ll ever love, and letting him love you as if you wholly trusted him to not break your heart?

But who’s he kidding? He can’t really blame you for what he’s feeling. And he can’t blame you for his mistake of being washed along by the waves of delight to the point where he became blind to the truth.

It’s so obvious, isn’t it? He’s not compatible with you. Anyone with eyes can see it, but it was just so blissful in the bubble he was in that he didn’t realize he couldn’t give you what you really need.

You’re exuberant, he’s reserved. You like to socialize, whereas he prefers his alone time.

Overall, you were polar opposites, and the only thing he had in common with you was volleyball. Well, you even went different paths with that - he pursued literature after college while you went on to compete in the professional leagues.

So really, the only thing that held you together was the faraway memory of being high school classmates and playing for your respective teams in Fukurodani. 

A sad smile graces his lips as he sees you with him - Oikawa Tooru - the ever perfect gentleman, a successful volleyball player, and also your ex-fiance. Akaashi sits still in his car as he watches you and Oikawa inside the cafe, the way your face practically lights up when you talk to him, and how the man in front of you effortlessly matches your energy.

And while it pains Akaashi to admit it, it’s clear to him that that is what compatibility is. You and Oikawa just fit so well together, he’d be a fool to deny it.

It strikes his heart harder than he would’ve liked, but now he understands how you and the setter got to the point of marriage, well, almost-marriage. But really, the only reason you and Oikawa aren’t together anymore was because of his dreams. And if Akaashi really did get to know you in the time you spent together, then he could confidently say that you’ll forgive Oikawa without a beat’s hesitation if he so much as breathes a ghost of an apology towards your way.

After all, as a passionate athlete yourself, you understand perfectly well how important Oikawa’s dream is to him.

It’s still clear as day to Akaashi, how subdued you were when he saw you again after years. The MSBY Black Jackals hung out fairly often and as a close friend, Akaashi was always invited. It just so happened that the men’s team did promotional activities with the women’s team and that’s when he got reunited with you.

You were different then, to put it bluntly.

Akaashi spent a lot of time with you in high school, and back then, you were this bright, loud, unstoppable force, much like his best friend Bokuto. People even took to calling you and Koutarou siblings because of how similar you two were. So when he saw how quiet you were in the few times you went out with the MSBY team, he was a bit shocked.

It wasn’t his business, though, and Akaashi respected the change. He figured it must have been a personal preference of yours, but really, it wasn’t his place to think too much about it.

But words go around especially when it involves two renowned names, and he later found out about how you got engaged to Oikawa a couple of years ago only for it to be broken when he left for Argentina. You were devastated, said Bokuto.

In your time with MSBY, you’ve gotten close with his best friend again, and in turn, with him too. He saw how closed off you became, how just utterly sad you were, and how you had a hard time opening up again to those around you.

However, time was forgiving to you, and you soon found yourself back on your feet, ready to stand back up and burn even brighter than before.

Akaashi smiles as he remembers how brave you were the whole time. Even then at your lowest, you pushed forward, intent to rise on your own two feet to tackle the world. But just a week ago, it was like he was turned back in time when news broke out that Oikawa Tooru was back in the country.

You were restless, distracted. You tried to mask the conflict you were feeling, but Akaashi, being observant as he was, saw it all in your eyes. And now as he witnesses you engulf Oikawa in a tight hug, he breathes out.

He knows what he has to do.

Maneuvering his car away from his spot, he drives back to your shared apartment. The whole way through, his brain keeps repeating the scene of you burying your face to Oikawa’s chest, your grip tight on his back, while the setter has his arms around you as if he doesn’t want to let you go ever again.

And Akaashi understands, even though it pains him. He understands because who would want to let you go when you’ve given your heart to them?

It hurts.

But again, he thinks it’s his fault for fooling himself that he could be enough for you. Who is he to stop you from seeking happiness with your first love? With your true love?

No one, that’s who he is. He will set aside his own selfish needs if it means you could be with the one you want to be with. After all, wasn’t it his selfishness that brought him to this situation in the first place?

He knew Oikawa had - still has - your heart, but Akaashi still selfishly loved you with all of himself.

Stopping in front of the unit, he cuts the engine off and braces himself before he leaves his car. The walk towards your apartment seems like eternity, his feet dragging along the floor as if he’s being pulled down by the earth. And he might as well have been, if the heaviness in his heart is any indication.

He has to do this, he keeps reminding himself. But as much as he knows he should let you go, just a mere second of thought about a day without you already has his heart ripping into shreds.

Picking up a sticky note from the counter, he writes a short note to you.

‘I’ll get my belongings tomorrow during your training. I really wish you happiness, [Y/N].’

And in a moment of vulnerability, Akaashi writes his final i love you at the bottom, taking his engagement ring off and putting it on top of the note.

He doesn’t waste time lingering in your unit and promptly drives away to his own apartment, one that’s been untouched for a long time, as he’s been naturally spending more time with you in your shared home.

And there, in the solitude of his own space, he weeps.

He lets the tears fall as he bites his knuckles to try to cover up the sobs that wrack his chest. He thinks of the happy memories he had with you, and he thinks of how thankful he is that you allowed him to be part of your life even for a short period of time.

But he also thinks of what would have happened had he not driven to join the team dinner that day after the MSBY promotional event. What would have happened if he wasn’t running late to the dinner? If he didn’t see you exiting the restaurant where the team was, only for you to enter the cafe across the street? What would have happened if he didn’t see Oikawa greeting you with a bright smile of his - one that’s far more genuine than what he shows to other people?

As he sits tiredly on his couch, head rested on the back of the sofa, he thinks it’s better this way.

Just imagining you be the one to end the relationship already has him tearing up even more. He knows he wouldn’t be able to hide his emotions from you if you tell him face to face that you’re cutting off your engagement with him to get back together with Oikawa.

It’s better this way, he tries to convince himself. But really, in a situation like this, a voice inside his head echoes that there is no “better” nor “good” because it spells nothing but a broken heart for him.

Akaashi awakes with a start, disoriented and groggy from abruptly waking up. He groans from an oncoming headache as he reaches for his phone on the coffee table to check the time, not even realizing that he fell asleep on the couch in the first place.

He sees it’s a little past midnight and judging from the steady sound of downpour from outside, it’s most likely raining hard.

Closing his eyes to relieve his headache, he moves to recline on the couch again and just as he rests his head on the plush pillow, a loud knock sounds from the door.

It must have been what woke him up in the first place, he belatedly thinks. Akaashi moves towards the door, his still-muddled brain trying to think of who’s visiting him this late in the night.

When he opens the door, he isn’t prepared - not one bit - to see the sight that greets him.

There you are, drenched from the rain head to toe and still wearing the clothes he saw you in earlier that day. Your eyes burn intensely as you gaze at him, and there’s a noticeable redness to them that assured him you had been crying.

Still crying, he confirms, as he sees tears still rolling down your cheeks in thick rivulets.

You’re shaking, from the cold or from anger, he’s not too sure, but he notices you clutching onto something, your right hand enclosed in a fist as you hold it protectively towards your chest as if it’s your only lifeline.

He urges himself to say something, anything, and as the first word breaks free from his lips, you beat him to it.

“I love you, Keiji!” you yell at him, your voice thick with emotion and your throat clogging up with a sob, but you continue.

“I know I don’t deserve you. You’re kind, sincere, genuine, intelligent, devoted, you have all the good qualities in the world. You were there for me when I was at my lowest, you supported me on my journey back up. You were there. You were always there for me. And when we started to develop something special, something we shared between only you and I, I was ecstatic. I can’t even form in words how thankful I am for you, and how forever grateful I’ll be that you let me into your life. And when you proposed--,” another sob escapes your lips, as you bring a hand up to wipe at your tears, you see him move to come near you, but you put a hand up to stop him.

“When you proposed, I was happy-- the happiest I’ve ever been, because you gave me the privilege to be by your side forever. You gave me peace, Keiji. After a long time, I’ve finally found my peace and you were the one who supported me all throughout,” you keep your teary gaze on him as you take in a deep breath.

“I understand if you don’t want me anymore. I mean, how could you? I’m broken from my past relationship and you deserve way more than a woman who’s still held back by a failed relationship. I know you know that I met up with Tooru today. Kou told me he saw you. But I just want you to hear this from me- Tooru gave me the closure I needed, we’re finally over. But you deserve so much more than a partner with so many scars.”

More tears cascade down your cheeks and Akaashi is rendered even more speechless when he sees the thing clutched in your palm. You extend your hand to him, showing him the ring he left at your house earlier that day.

“I love you so much, Keiji. I know you probably wouldn’t want this around, but please, keep it,” you whisper as you shakily hand him the ring back. “I know it’s selfish of me to ask this, but I don’t think I could take it if you cut me off from your life entirely--”

Your words are halted as he pulls you towards his strong embrace, his arms encasing you in his warm and familiar hold. And even in your state of shock, he knows you could feel the tears falling from his eyes as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

He sobs and he lets it all out. His fear of you leaving him, how for a long moment he thought you were going to leave him for someone else.

He tells you how his heart was gripped by the fear of being let into your life only to be tossed out because he’s not worthy of you.

And with each tearful word that comes past his lips, his heart feels lighter.

With each whispered assurance you give him amidst your sobs, and with each declaration of love shared only between the two of you, Keiji’s heart becomes at peace. And there in your warm and loving embrace, he understands.

Now, he fully understands the peace in his heart.

It was never about compatibility. He chose you, and you chose him.

It was about the two of you choosing each other out of devotion and trust, even in the face of all the odds.

With tears still streaming down his face, Akaashi Keiji smiles because now, he understands.

[giftofwonder]

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part 8 (Final Part)

A/N: I just want to say thank you so much to all of you for reading my story and for all of your love and support. I’m sorry this last update took so long, a lot has been going on and the story got pushed to the back burner. I hope you enjoy it❤️

WARNINGS: Death, Angst, Description of gore/violence.

Taglist: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @jamaisvusbitch @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach @babayaga67 @iiashleysykes @orenjineki @badbitchfor2dmen @tsukki-uwwu @piii-chan

__________________________________________

“I don’t like this.” Dabi grunted, walking down the busy street beside you.

“I know, but we talked about this. We have a plan and I’ll be fine!” You shot back, your hand reaching down to lace your fingers with his.

“It’s too risky. What if something goes wrong?” He asked, his brow creasing in frustration.

“What other choice do we have? There’s no way you could even get close to them without me. We’re not in ancient times, they can’t just attack me.” You shrugged. Dabi’s hand gripped yours tightly and he pulled you into the alley off to the side of the street. Your back was pressed firmly against the cold brick wall while his head lowered, a glare prominent on his features.

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I am! I promise. I want to help you, and I know that there are risks. I am fully aware of that. I just think it is highly unlikely that two people working in a large corporation are going to attack me out in the open. Especially with you close by. Once you come in, I’ll stay out of the line of fire and let you handle things. If things go sour, I leave as fast as possible and wait for you back at the hotel.” You said, holding his gaze.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this. This is going to be a disaster.” Dabi sighed, his forehead dipping beside you as he pressed it against the wall over your shoulder.

“We’ll be okay. Look at me.” You whispered, your voice soft and comforting. Dabi pulled his head back as he met your gaze.

“I love you. I’ll be safe. You can take care of your business, and then we’ll go home.” Your smile was gentle as your warm hand reached up to cup his cheek.

“Promise me you’ll leave if something goes wrong.” His voice cracked as his eyes shifted between yours.

“I promise.”

______________________________________

You were nervous. You’d be lying to yourself if you denied the sinking feeling that you had in your stomach. This was big. It was bigger than you. Lives were hanging in the balance, including yours. There was no room for error here. You had one chance, you had to do everything right or everything would be ruined.

You didn’t like what Dabi wanted to do, his revenge, but you were in this together and he needed this. Not just for his own desires, but also so that when he passes, he can return to his afterlife.

______________________________________

The next day, it was show time. You made your way to the building to make an appointment at the firm, requesting an audience with both Shouto and Enji. Your name got you a time slot, surprisingly. Your recent discovery at the tomb giving you a boost of popularity, and surely peaking the interest of the pair you had requested.

You thanked the receptionist and turned to leave. As you headed to the entrance, a familiar face caught your eye.

“Keigo?” You asked, more than a little confused.

“Well, well. Missed me so much you flew all the way to Japan to see me? I gotta say kid, I’m touched.” He laughed, walking up to you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, taking in his dress shirt and slacks.

“Huh? I work here. Isn’t that why you’re here?” He asked furrowing his brow.

“No, I had no idea you were in Japan. When did you move here?” You asked surprised.

“About a year ago, I just flew back for Christmas since I hadn’t seen your family in a while. You’d have known that if you’d paid more attention to me.” Keigo huffed, crossing his arms with a pout.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t in a great mood. It wasn’t a very good day.” You rubbed your neck sheepishly.

“Thats the understatement of the century. You put on a great show though, let me tell ya. If only I’d had some popcorn for that Oscar winning performance you gave.” He laughed, and you did too.

“What’d they say after I left?” You asked, your voice quiet.

“Eh, not much. They were silent for a while. Your mom said she thinks she over reacted a little. Your dad said he was firm about the disowning thing, but I don’t really buy it. I think he was just trying to keep up the act.” Keigo shrugged and you nodded.

“I figured. It doesn’t matter though, what’s done is done.” You sighed.

“Yeah, just give it time. They’ll come around. Unless you guys split up, in which case, I would just like to point out that I am available.” He winked.

“I feel like you’ve been waiting the entire conversation to say that.” You deadpanned.

“Yep! Thought about starting with it, but decided to keep it classy.” He grinned.

“Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t want to lay it on too strong.” You shook your head.

“You got that right. But anyways, what are you doing here? You in legal trouble or something?” He asked in teasing tone.

“No, nothing like that. Just wanted to talk over assets and things. Was thinking about moving up here, buying a second home maybe. The Todoroki Agency was highly recommended, so I figured I’d just sit and talk and see what they say.” You smiled.

“Huh, well if you move up here you’ll have to let me give you a tour. I know some pretty great places around here, hidden treasures really.”

“Sounds good! Nothing is set in stone yet, but if we move here, I’ll definitely take you up on that offer. I’ve got to get going, but it was really good seeing you.” You said, giving a squeeze to his arm.

“Alright, I’ll see you around. Don’t get in too much trouble.” He laughed, waving you off as you made your exit.

______________________________________

It was finally time for your appointment, so you and Dabi made you way to the firm and checked in. You were led to a hall upstairs outside of the conference room. The receptionist told you to take a seat and that they’d call you in shortly. A few moments later, the woman came back and said you were free to enter, before departing back to the main lobby.

Dabi waited out in the hall, disguised in a high collared jacket, scarf and sunglasses. You had laughed when he had come out wearing it, but you knew he had too. He looked too distinct. Too easy to spot. And for everything to go smoothly, it started with him fading into the background.

You opened the large door to the conference room and stepped inside. The air was chilly, and you clutched your sweater tighter around you.

The two men greeted you, already seated at the table.

“Miss Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Enji Todoroki, and this is my son, Shouto Todoroki.” Enji said. His presence was intimidating, that was for sure. He was very large, standing both tall and broad. His face held a deep scar and though his eyes were the same color as Dabi’s, they lacked all of the warmth that his carried.

“The pleasure is mine! Thank you for meeting with me.” You beamed, extending your hand. Enji took it and his grip was firm, as you had imagined it would be. Then you turned to Shouto, but as he reached out you noticed his missing digit.

He paused his movement at your stare, before slowly continuing to give you a gentle handshake, polar opposite to his fathers.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s a bit unsightly to look at.” He said with a sad smile, curling his hand into a fist as it made its way back to his side.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not bothered. My step father is missing one of his legs, so I’m familiar with the sight. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You gave him a soft smile.

“No, you’re fine. Shouto just has a lack of confidence when talking with women. My boy is always assuming the worst!” Enji laughed, though it sounded more like a bark, as he slapped Shouto’s back. It was obvious Shouto was less than thrilled about his fathers contact and remark, and you almost laughed at the bizarre tension between the two, though you didn’t know if the impulse was from amusement or the sheer awkwardness hanging in the air.

Shouto cleared his throat, “I must say, I was surprised you had requested an appointment with us. We recently read about your tomb discovery and thought it was fascinating. If I may ask, what brings you to Japan?”

“Thank you, I’m glad my work interested you. I just wanted to talk a few things over, well, both of us did.” You smiled.

“Both of us?” Enji asked skeptically.

“Oh! Yes, I brought my husband with me, he’s outside waiting in the hall. I only listed my name on the appointment reservation, so I wasn’t sure if he could come in with me.” You laughed.

“Ah, yes, of course. That’s fine. Please, go grab him if you’d like.” Shouto smiled. You thanked him and walked to the door, peeking out to wave Dabi inside.

He strolled in, and you could feel the air shift to something sinister as he threw off his disguise.

Enji was the first to react, shooting up from his chair.

“How is it that you’re here?” Enji demanded, making Dabi laugh.

“I could say the same to you, old man.” Dabi sneered.

You backed away from the three to the far side of the room beside the door, making sure you could escape easily if it was needed. Though you didn’t want to, you’d keep your promise if things got out of hand.

“So, you’re finally here, big brother.” Shouto said, his tone bored.

“All thanks to you.” Dabi spat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Enji said.

“Our dear Shouto has been pulling a lot of strings since his death, it seems. What I want to know, is why?” Dabi finished, directing his attention back to his brother.

“You ruined it all. You and your group of scum. So I talked to the gods, Set, Shu and Tefnut, and asked them for guidance on rebuilding our once great society. They were kind enough to help.” Shouto told him.

“Funny, Osiris and Neith were more than willing to bring me back as a favor to them just to stop you.” Dabi laughed.

“I’m aware. They warned me of your possible resurrection long ago. It’s why I had your tomb designed the way I did. Why I sacrificed a finger to keep you from returning to the afterlife if you actually did manage it, but I’ve got to say, I’m surprised you found a way back and tracked us down. I’m almost impressed.” Shoto smirked.

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that.” Dabi growled.

“I didn’t want it to be like this. You were the one who came after us. I’m just trying to fix what you broke.” Shouto said, a glare prominent on his face.

“You keep telling yourself that. You’re just a pawn to him,” Dabi laughed, pointing to his father, “this was never what you wanted. This was what HE wanted. You’re still just following in his shadow. I gotta say, I didn’t think you’d be the one behind it. The old man, I get. But you, that was unexpected.”

“I just want a peaceful world where everything is in order. I’m not like you, making chaos, ruining lives, and in your spare time off playing house. What is that woman to you? A tool? Leverage? Will you just throw her away when your satisfied?” Shouto said, motioning to you.

“Don’t even fucking look at her. She’s not some petty tool. She’s my wife. She will be here long after you, both her and our child!” Dabi roared at him. You could feel the heat filling the room and swallowed thickly. There was silence. Something changed.

Shouto’s eyes wandered to you, he held your gaze for a moment, and then his eyes shifted to your stomach. Your hands wrapped around it instinctively as your heart skipped a beat.

“You’re unfit to be a father. After you pass, well make sure to help raise the child properly. Your “wife” will be well taken care of.” Enji said, breaking his silence as he stepped toward you. Dabi was quick to react.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” He yelled, blue flames igniting from his skin. Your eyes widened as you took in the beautiful fire before you. He truly looked like a god, an untouchable being, and you were in awe. You understood finally the gift he was given by the gods. The power he was handed.

The fire washed over Enji, as Dabi tackled him to the floor. He beat him, and you could do nothing but stand there and watch as Dabi’s fists connected with his face repeatedly.

It was violent and you wanted to look away, but you were rooted to the spot, frozen in shock. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched the puddle of blood form around Enji’s head. Smelled the burning of his skin.

You were snapped out of your trance by a harsh tug to your arm.

“Hey, we gotta go!” Keigo whispered beside you, his other hand gripping the gun on his belt as he watched the scene before him unfold. You ripped your arm back.

“I can’t leave him. Not now. I have to stay.” You said, your voice cracking with every word. You knew Keigo was right, you promised you would leave if things got bad. Your mind was screaming for you to follow him out that door to safety, but your body wouldn’t move.

“Look, I’m sorry. I warned Shouto. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen, but we have to leave! Now!” Keigo said, his eyes watering as he pulled on you desperately.

“You...you did what!? How could you!?” You yelled shoving him. But his focus wasn’t on you anymore. You tried to turn, but Keigo grabbed your face and held it to look at him.

“Stop it, what are you-“

BANG. BANG.

Everything stopped. Tears fell from your eyes at the sound. You threw his hands from your face and whipped around, finding Dabi bleeding on the floor, his body stilled and unmoving.

“NO!” You screamed, running to him. You dropped beside him and pressed your hands to the wounds on his chest. The blood seeped between your fingers as you sobbed, begging him to stay.

Shouto stood back, putting his gun away, and watched you with a sad look on his face. He knew it would destroy you, that it would break your heart, but he knew it had to be done. He was regretful that you had gotten involved. That another innocent person was pulled into this war. You were just collateral damage.

Keigo approached your weeping form slowly, and rested his hand on your shoulder, trying to offer some form of comfort.

“I’m sorry, kid. He’s gone.” He whispered.

“But he can’t go back! He can’t die, he doesn’t have anywhere to go! And I need him! The baby..” You choked on your words and cried harder.

“The baby!? Oh...oh my god..” Keigo paled as his eyes shifted to Shouto.

“What the fuck did you do? You never said-“

“I didn’t know. It wouldn’t have changed anything...but for what it’s worth, I really didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Shouto said, cutting Keigo off, his voice solemn.

“You’re sorry.” Your cold stare landed on the man before you. “You’re sorry?” You repeated, a hoarse laugh falling from your lips as you pushed yourself up from the ground.

It happened in a split second, before you could even process what you were doing. Something snapped. Your hand grabbed the gun from Keigo’s holster and you aimed it at Shouto.

“You will be.” You said, and then pulled the trigger.

Shouto’s body toppled to the floor, lifelessly. A fatal shot. The door burst open behind you, and you heard the chaos immediately, the yells. They screamed to drop your weapon. The police, you recognized through the fog that clouded your mind.

You heard Keigo plead behind you, telling you to listen. Telling them to stop. To wait. But they didn’t.

You turned toward them, gun lowered but still in hand, and that was enough. You heard the shots, but you didn’t feel them. You were somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

You watched yourself fall to the ground, felt your body hit the floor. Within and outside of yourself simultaneously. And you smiled.

“Can you hear me!?” Keigo screamed beside you, “Stay with me!” He cried. Your eyes opened to take in his tear stained face.

“And never have I felt so deeply at one and the same time so detached from myself and so present in the world.” (Albert Camus). Your mind repeated the quote that you knew by heart, and it had never resonated more than it did now, in this moment.

And then, you closed your eyes.

______________________________________

You awoke on the floor of Dabi’s tomb with a splitting headache. You groaned, pushing yourself up as you spit the sand and dirt from your mouth and wiped off your clothes. Your brows furrowed in confusion. Had you just fallen and hit your head? Was it all some crazy dream? Your clothes were the same as when you had first found the tomb.

Tears fell from your eyes as you realized it had all been some fabricated story your mind made up. Your heart broke all over again. It had felt so real.

Saddened, you made your way up to the main chamber, your eyes taking in every inch of the tomb, fingertips tracing each wall you passed. As you neared the exit, your name carved into the wall caught your attention. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you took off to the doorway. You rushed outside to confirm your thoughts, you needed to make sure it was real. You needed it to be real.

It had worked. It had brought you to him. This was the afterlife, his afterlife.

Your face widened into a smile as you looked around at the ancient buildings, newly built.

“You about ready to go home, princess?” A voice called behind you.

He sat atop a camel, his white kilt, his golden jewelry and elaborate belt. The same as when you had first met him. The only difference was the bundle in his arms, the small hands that reached out from behind the cloth.

You ran to him, to your husband, the love of your life. He reached down to pull you up onto the camel and into his lap.

“Is this...?” You asked, your eyes taking in the baby cradled against his chest. He smiled and nodded.

“Our daughter.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Will she always be a baby? Can she grow up here?” You asked, taking your child from Dabi to plant kisses on her smiling face.

“No, she’ll grow. The afterlife is a continuation. It picks up where your world ends. Though she will never die, she will age. She will be healthy and happy, and with us.” He answered, his arms encircling you and your daughter, placing a kiss on your forehead and then on hers.

You smiled, as tears of joy welled in your eyes. You kissed Dabi, whispering I love you as he started off toward home.

Home. You were home.

[floralkittygambler]

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.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Thin Line

Summary: You’re wild and free. She’s strict and trained. You and Natasha are polar opposites and it drives her crazy. Each move you make annoys her to no end. But, there’s a thin line between annoyance and adoration.

Rating: 18+ Violence, Language, Blood, Death, and Smut.

Chapter 6

"All right, what do you see?” Steve’s voice rings through your ear piece.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, taking in the passersby and the basic chaos of a populated city.

Wanda, being the one in training, replies to Steve,“ standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target.”

“What exactly is a good target? Like, if it’s a target doesn’t that automatically  make it bad?”

Wanda snickers at your comment and Steve ignores it before running through the general surveillance with her and directing her attention to a car parked across the street. 

"It's also bulletproof, which means private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.” Natasha remarks, causing you to instantly glance over at her.

She quirks an eyebrow at you over her cup of tea, quickly refocusing.

Wanda is quick to inform you all,“ you guys know I can move things with my mind, right?” 

“Neat trick but it’s not that simple.” You inform her.

Natasha agrees, telling her,“ looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.”

“Anybody ever tell you you're a little paranoid?” Sam, your other teammate throws out.

“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?”

Laughing, you duck your head and cross the street, eyes following the traffic.

Steve tells everyone to focus. Rumlow is a pain in his ass and this is the closest Steve’s been in a while to shutting him up.

“Right, focusing.” Your eyes narrow,“ Sam mind tagging this garbage truck comin up on me? This guy is the worst driver.” You shake your head at the way the truck speeds through traffic with no regard to it’s surroundings. 

You hear Sam speaking to his gadgets, pulling up an x-ray of the truck, and then telling you all that it’s at max weight and the driver is armed.

“It’s a battering ram.” Both you and Natasha say.

Steve tells everyone to engage immediately, Wanda being a little confused as you then explain that the target isn’t the police station.

You hear Steve fighting before anyone else, calling out how many hostiles are left and what armor they’re packing. Soon after Sam and Wanda join the fight. 

Natasha pulls up on her motorcycle and you immediately climb on, her speeding you both to the IFID. 

“Rumlow has a biological weapon.” Steve breathes heavily.

“On it.” Natasha calls and the second she pulls on the throttle you pick up on her plan. 

You stand and jump off the motorcycle, over Natasha, and straight into an enemy. Your feet kick into his chest and he falls back just as Natasha’s motorcycle scrapes across the ground into the guy behind you.

Winking at her, and picking up on her smug smirk, you quickly engage the other hostiles in the area. 

Groans and complaints hum through the ear pieces as you all take down enemies. You catch small glimpses of your team fighting, but you don’t see Rumlow. Which is equally as good as it is bad.

Just when you think things are going smoothly you here the distinct sound of Natasha’s groan followed by an explosion. 

Your eyes snap over to the sound and you see her flying out the back of an armored truck, smoke billowing out after. 

“Dammit Nat.” You snatch the head gear of the last hostile and punch him straight in the throat before heading over to Natasha.

She groans and rolls on to her back, soot dirtying her porcelain skin.

“Open those eyes pretty girl,” you pat her cheek gently.

Another explosion sounds behind you and you frown, looking in that direction.

“What is with you guys and bombs today?”

Steve ignores the comment, instead telling Sam that Rumlow’s on the move.

You stand, pulling Natasha up with you, and heading over to the motorcycle. 

The two of you ride it as far as traffic allows before ditching it again to run over car roofs. 

Your informed that they’ve split up and ditched the gear, Natasha tells everyone you guys are following the two on the left while Sam follows the one of the right. 

Rumlow isn’t with either group which concerns you, until you hear him speaking to Steve. Sam calls that his guy doesn’t have the weapon which spurns you and Natasha on. 

It’s not until you’re in a market square that you catch the two. You both incapacitate the targets quickly, with the assistance of Sam’s drone. 

For the briefest moment your lost in Sam and Natasha’s banter, laughing at it until the biggest explosion of the day seemingly shakes the city.

Eyes wide, you and Natasha race to the scene as Steve calls for evacuation and medics. Upon arriving Natasha runs to Steve’s side, but your drawn to the very distraught Wanda.

It doesn’t take long to put two and two together.

“Wan.” You squat to wrap an arm around her shoulders. 

Tears pool in her green eyes as her hand covers her mouth in shock. She’s mumbling something incoherent, over and over. The people around, who aren’t hurt, glare at her or look on in horror. 

“Wan get up, come on.” She rises ever so slowly, trembling in the slightest, and you run your hands up and down her arms.“ I’m taking Maximoff to the jet.” 

The team agrees, obviously knowing exactly why she shouldn’t stick around.

You’re adamant on getting her out of the public eye just as much as you are about getting the civilians to safety.  

A groan involuntarily escapes your mouth as you collapse on your bed back at the compound.

Today was more hectic than ever and you feel it in your bones. 

The shower you took barely worked. Sure you’re clean but you still feel crappy. And if this is how you feel, you can’t begin to imagine what Wanda feels.

“Hey.”

You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s Natasha. 

“Hey.”

She walks further into the room, after closing the door, and sits next to your laid out form. Her eyes scan your body, lingering on each bruise you received in today’s fight.

Despite having her own bruises and knowing there was no way you could’ve avoided them, she still feels hurt seeing you hurt. 

Knowing that, you pull yourself into a sitting position, and wrap her in your arms.

“What’s goin on this head of yours Romanoff?’ You place a kiss on her temple.

Her body relaxes into you despite the stress running through it,“ nothing.” She lies.

But you don’t push it. Things happen naturally between you two and so whenever she opens up about her thoughts and feelings you want that to be just as natural.

“Okay,” you hum.“ You speak to Wanda?”

That topic alone makes her take in a big breath and sigh,“ she’s torn up. Hating herself. Which is exactly how I felt on my first mission gone wrong.”

You nod, knowing the feeling all too well. Your first bad mission went as horribly as it could have and it tore you apart. 

Natasha of course senses the instant change in you. Sure you weren’t your usual cheeky self but you’re gaze just darkened even more. 

“Tell me.” She whispers, her hand cupping your cheek. 

You hated thinking about it. The memories alone were enough but each time you thought of it the emotions weighed down on you more and more.

*****Flashback*****

Maverick puts the cuffs on your target, hauling him up off the ground, and towards the SUV.

“And here I was thinking you’d be hard to catch.” You taunt, opening the car door, and smiling when Maverick chuckles.

You take the target from Maverick and shove him in the back seat.

“I must admit, your plan worked brilliantly Mav, so drinks on me.” 

His usual cocky remark doesn’t come which makes you frown.

“Don’t act all humble now yo-” your words die in your throat when you see the blood stain on the front of the car. 

Heart now pounding in your chest, you rush around to the passenger side. Lying on the ground, shirt slowly absorbing the blood from his wound, is Maverick. 

You drop to your knees beside him, pulling your mission issued communicator out. 

“HQ come in. We’ve been engaged by an unknown threat. My partner’s down, I need back up and medics now.” As mission control replies you hover over Maverick.

Searching his body for the source of all the blood, you find a bullet wound in his abdomen and another in his chest. He’s starting to gasp for air and you’re trying your best not to panic.

“Stay with me Mav, medics on the way.” You rip your jacket off and apply pressure to his chest wound.

Being focused on Maverick, you make the mistake of not focusing on the things around you. Which results in you being blown back when the SUV explodes, the same SUV holding your target. 

Your ears ring and your head starts to pound. Opening your eyes disorients you but it’s clear to see the fire blazing from what’s left of the car. And it’s also easy to see all the people hurt and killed by the explosion.

There’s so much happening you aren’t even sure what to do. 

"Y/N.” Eyes snap to Maverick as he says your name with the little oxygen he has.“ Go.”

He knows he’s not going to make it, he doesn’t want you to end up like him.

“No, Mav-”

His eyelids start to droop and you feel your heart shattering. When they close, they don’t open again.

*****End Flashback*****

Natasha runs her hand over your back comfortingly but she doesn’t say anything. For two reasons: one, she doesn’t know what to say and two, even if she did, she knows no words could make this better.

“I can’t say he was my best friend cause outside of work we barely hung out. But then again, I didn’t really have friends outside of work so he was the closest thing I had. Losing him-” you sigh and blink away tears.“ I haven’t worked with another person since he died. It made it easier, not having to watch out for someone else.”

Fingers, combing through your hair, Natasha says,“ knowing you, I bet you felt pretty alone.”

“Yeah, of course, but like I said, it was easier. I got to do things my way, for the most part, and I completed missions much faster and more efficiently. But Fury got concerned when I started to do more reckless things.”

“Like blowing up building?” You chuckle along with Natasha.

“Right. Anyway that’s why he assigned me to the team. He said it would help me put things in perspective. He said there were things I needed to learn that I would only understand if I had teammates and the rest you know.”

“Well I think it’s working.”

The conversation stops there as F.R.I.D.A.Y informs you that Tony and the Secretary of State is here. 

In no time you’re sitting between Natasha and Steve as the Secretary tells you all you’re too dangerous. Footage of previous Avengers battles, some you weren’t here for, some you were. But then he plays footage of Lagos, how he got it so quickly, well it’s not hard to guess.

Still your eyes direct straight to your new found brunette friend. Her green eyes don’t stay on the screen long.

“Alright, alright, turn it off.” You snap at the man.

Natasha subtly places a hand on your leg but your concerned gaze stays on Wanda. 

Mister Secretary presents the Sokovia Accords and Wanda’s the first to pick it up, only to slide it directly to Rhodey. Wanda sends a single glance to you before looking back down.

Steve counters the Secretary as your eyes scan over pages of the Accords Rhodey just slid to you.

Everyone is sharing glances, trying to read each other in that moment, but no one gives away any distinct glances. 

“And if we come to a decision you don’t like?” Natasha leans forward and asks.

Mister Secretary turns to look at the red head,“ then you retire.”

You snort as Natasha gives a seemingly unbothered smirk, but you know she doesn’t like this one bit.

The compound has never, ever, been this quiet. Everyone came into the common room to have a discussion. You sit beside Natasha and she looks at you. Her eyes search yours for an answer you don’t have.

Sam is the first person to speak, voicing his disagreement with the Accords, and that incites a bit of an argument between him and Rhodey.

When Vision inputs his wisdom all eyes fall to him. And Natasha comments on Tony’s silence, which is definitely uncharacteristic of him.

“Boy, you know me so well.” he quips at Steve, wincing as he stands and walks into the kitchen." Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache.”

You raise an eyebrow, eyes trained on him like everyone else.

“That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort.” He pauses,“ who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

Wanda, for the first time today, smiles a little at your guilty expression. You swear you were going to clean it up but you forgot.

You divert your attention back to Tony as he makes mention of a young guy who was killed in the mess that was Sokovia. Your heart breaks at the expressions of your teammates and you almost instantly know who’s going to sign. 

But Tony tells everyone his stance anyway. He’s got all this blood on his hands and he’s done feeling guilty for doing what he thought was right. 

“I have to go.” Steve rushes out, leaving everyone confused.

You all disperse, Rhodey staying behind to talk with Tony. Sam follows after Steve, Vision goes off after watching Wanda leave solemnly, and Natasha walks with you back toward your room.

Once you’re a safe distance away she speaks,“ now you’re being oddly quiet.” 

Sighing deeply, you stop and lean against the wall.“ I can’t sign those Accords Tasha.”

“And why is that?” She tilts her head in the slightest.

Your mind races, there are a billion reasons why you shouldn't sign the Accords but for every reason why you shouldn’t you think of why you should,“ I- I don’t know.”

Her eyebrow raises as she waits for you to explain.

“Everyone is making this out to be black and white and it’s not. Signing the Accords means giving the government control over our team, not signing means all the control is in our hands-”

“This is about more than your control issues Y/N.”

Her words shock you. She says them in a monotonous way but you here how much she disagrees with you.

You scoff,“ you don’t think I know that? Of course it’s not about me or the team for that matter, or even the government. We don’t save lives for the government or ourselves. We do it for the families who expect their sons and daughters to come home-”

“And how many of those sons and daughters haven’t come home because of us?”

Lowering your head into your hands, you suppress a groan,“ why can’t you understand where I’m coming from Nat? I’m not saying this it’s okay but people are going to get hurt regardless. Are we really going to hand ourselves over to the people who were literally going to nuke NYC? How are their decisions any better than ours?”

Your had been private conversation is interrupted by Tony.

He approaches, as tired as ever despite the coffee he’s been drinking. But you know it’s more than just a physical tired. 

“I get what you’re saying Y/N, I thought the same thing but,” he sighs, running a hand over his face,“ we need this. As a team we need to answer to someone who can handle us cause if not we’re going to keep making the same mistakes like we’ve been doing.” 

You bite your bottom lip, understanding exactly what he means.

Without the Accords, more people are going to get hurt because of you. 

He steps closer and puts his hand on your shoulder,“ if we stick together on this it’s gonna get better.”

And that’s his whole point. Alongside not wanting to be guilty, he just wants the team to stick together. It’s not black and white to him either but it’s obvious what the better option is.

“You’re right.” You look down and then back up, eyes shifting between Tony’s and Natasha’s,“ it’s not gonna be easy getting Steve on board but, I got your back Tony.”

For the first time today you see relief wash over his features and you surprise him with a hug. And he surprises you by hugging back. 

“Go try to get some sleep man.”

He scoffs, smiles, and walks away,“ same goes for you and Romanoff.”

Knowing he’s right, again, you just grab Natasha’s hand and pull her to your room. She follows your lead as you lay down and pull her into your chest, fingers running through her red locks.

“We’re gonna be okay right?” You whisper, voice dripping insecurity and uncertainty.

Natasha sighs against your chest, hands gripping your shirt,“ yeah. We are.”

Despite her words, it’s in this moment that you know this won’t end well. For who, you don’t know, but it’s not going to end well. And it scares you shitless.

*******

Tag List: @uglipotata72829 @jumbojamba47 @fayhar @blackwidowromonoff @natasha-danvers​ @shycucumbersandwich​ @natasharomanoffsbitch-x​ @studywithrosie01 

[neverendingstories00]

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.5)

Summary: After the kiss, tensions are rising between you and Safin. While on a shopping trip, you try to make an escape but fail. Upon hearing this, Safin is not pleased with your behavior.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Smut (fades to black)

A/N: This chappie is a...roller coaster. Were half way throguh this fic already 😳 I was blasting Lana Del Rey while writing this and she really inspired the story. Here’s my spotify playlist for this fic. I love reading your comments btw, they make my day! Just wanna warn that this is my first time writing smut (that I have published), so forgive me if it sucks.  I really hope you guys enjoy this! 😌

You waked up to the sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore. You rub the sleep off your eyes as your body refused  to move out of its comfortable pose. Looking at the clock, it read ten o’clock. You hated sleeping in so late. Rolling out of bed, you push your hair back to go use the bathroom. The bags under your eyes had been fading away. Instead of feeling on edgy, you felt calm. You were Safin’s prisoner, but he spoiled you with expensive weekend trips and jewelry that cost more than your life on the black market.

After cleaning yourself up, you walked out of the bathroom and noticed a pair of clothes on a wooden loveseat. It was a pair of high-waisted khaki shorts, a light blue collared buttondown, and nude Venetian mules. You didn’t have many clothes to bring, so you assumed Safin had made you an outfit to wear. It wasn’t as exotic or revealing as your dinner outfit.

As you dressed, you could still imagine Safin’s hands all over you. He was so hungry and possessive of you. The way his calloused hands squeezed your back and traveled down your thighs made you shudder. You would never admit it to anyone, but you secretly savored the attention. Nobody had ever kissed you like that, let alone treat you in such a way. Safin made you feel all kinds of emotions you had bottled up over the years. Your hand traveled to your neck to see a red spot on your collarbone. It was pink and red mixed together. You dind’t remember Safin’s kiss that well since your eyes were closed as Safin overtook your body. Sighing, your disappointed with yourself. You couldn’t fall in love with the man who wanted to kill your friends and family if you didn’t fall in love with him. You finish buttoning your blouse and tuck it into your shorts, walking downstairs to the kitchen.

You walk out and feel the sun shine on your skin and the Medtaerrian breeze in your hair. It’s another beautiful day on the island. You see Safin sitting at a table, outlooking the beautiful sea. He sees you and turns, a smile on his face.

“Good morning, y/n. How did you sleep?”

Snappin out of your trace, your cheeks burn. There Safin is, the man who kissed and threatened you. Trying to act normal, you walk over and take a seat across from him.

“Well. How about yourself?”

“Wonderful, actually,” Safin responded in his silky voice. “It would have been much better if you were next to me though.”

Great. That’s all Safin needed to say to make you feel uncomfortable. Your cheeks burn as you look into the sea to conceal your face. “What a shame, Safin.Truly.”

“One day you will...I know of it.” Safin replied, a low growl in his voice. You rolled your eyes.

It was just one kiss, right?

As y/n finished her oatmeal, Safin looked up at her outfit. That woman could pull off any look, a scandalous dress or tomboyish island outfit. Your blouse had been unbuttoned slightly, showing the subtle sucking spot on your collerbone. Ah, how he longed to taste y/n’s skin again. She bit her red lips to conceal her pleasured moans. He had longed the touch of a woman. Even if y/n had kissed him, he still wasn’t satifesed. He wanted more, and he wanted y/n now.

Shifting in his sit, he rested his cheek in the calm of his hand. “Would you still like to go shopping?”

“Yes,” She answered. “I’d like to see the island...”

“Anything for you, my dear.”

Safin couldn’t tell if Y/n hated or loved the nicknames he gave her. But this was the first time he noticed her cheeks turn red as she rubbed her chin. Just being near her, sitting across from her, was making him aroused. At the dinner last night, Safin couldn’t control himself. He nearly had lost himself when he had asked y/n for a kiss, in which she sparingly agreed to. He could have had his way with her last night, but he couldn’t. As much as he wanted her, Safin wanted and needed to be loved by her. Y/n already thought of him as a monster. Even someone such as himself couldn’t force himself upon anyone.

Being around y/n was going to be Safin’s ultimate downfall.

-----

For a small island, the seaside town that inhabited it was full of luxurious stories. It reminded you of a Medterrian Bond street with high end stores such as Burberry and Louis Vuitton. It was overwhelming, so Safin guided you. It turned out Safin was filthy rich from his Spectre days. You should have realized that, considering that the man had resdegined a former Submarine Pen on a privately owned island.

You would have been fine with a normal shop with basic items that weren’t overpriced. But of course, Safin had decided to be extra and take you to the most expensive places in the town. You tried to tell him you were fine with any store, but he simply pulled you close and purred, “Only the best for my beautiful wife.”

Those words rung through your head. They pissed you off for sure. Safin knew how to get right under your skin, it was his job after all.

After a few hours of shopping, you were definitely feeling exhausted. You insisted that you had enough clothes, but Safin wanted to take you to every store he could. Safin made you hold his arm as you walked around the city. You should have hated being around him. But deep inside of, you enjoyed the attention. The attention that you knew no man was ever going to give you. Maybe he did truly love you and want someone to rule the world with. But it couldn’t be you. You two were polar opposites. He was an Anarchist, and you were a cyrptographer. You were supposed to enemies, not lovers.

Stopping in brought back thousands of memories. You and your mother use to shop there as a child, bringing back a dose of nostalgia. Moneypenny, your coworker, brought most of her wardrobe from the store. When you started out, a student fresh out of university, she had been kind enough to let you borrow some of her clothes when you didn’t have a lot of money. Even four years later, you still didn’t have the money to buy all of the clothes Safin had bought for you.

Safin decided to look around the store for himself, which let you have some time to try some outfits on. Safin had been extra enough to rent out the whole fucking store for you and him. The poor saleswoman who approached you looked like she was scared shitless. Had Safin done this before? Most likely, you thought.

Most of the clothes you picked were sweaters and trousers, but you decided to pick up a dress for a change. It was a white and black tweed dress that went an inch above your knee. Of course, the zipper on the back wouldn’t budge. You envied the way the double oh’s dressed, whether it be there lavish suits or designer thigh-high boots. Wearing the dress made you feel a little better about yourself, and less masculine.

There was a small knock on the door. You assumed it was the poor saleswoman who kept bringing your clothes. You felt horrible for her and tried to cut her some slack. Spinning on your heel, “Alexa, I’m ok-”

“It’s just me, actually,” A silky voice stated. It was none other than Safin. His eyes scaled her body, noticing the short dress and the how it hugged your thighs. His cock twitched in his pants among the sit, biting his lip. “You look...wow...”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You huffed to look in the mirror. God, you felt like a secretary in the dress. It was far too fancy for someone such as yourself. Heck, you could barely even fit into it. Just as you were to fend Safin away, he calmly asked, “Do you want help with your dress? The back..”

Looking back at Safin, your confused at what he’s implying before you realize he’s asking to help zip us your dress. Your cheeks burn red, giving him a small nod before you looked away in utter embarrassment.

Safin didn’t disrespect your space and was gentle with you. You noticed his hands were shaky and sweaty. As Safin pulled the zipper up, you felt his breath twitch against your neck sending shivers down your spine. Once he finished, the two of you looked in the mirror in front of you. His greenish-blue orbs traveled down your body, a small smirk on his face. He pushed some of your hair back so he could see the dress better. “The dress shows off your body well, my beautiful wife. Shall I buy it for you?”

Instead of responding, you stand there looking in the mirror. Your feeling all types of emotions; anger, sadness, fear, everything. Being around Safin was so discordant. You wanted to love him, but you hated him more than anything in the world. Yet a man you hated was obsessed with you and even wanted to make you his bride no matter what.

Safin’s hands snaked on your hips before beginning to suck at your throat. He brought your body close to his hips, his kisses becoming more of a craving than a passion. That was your breaking point. Pushing him off, you turn around as tears prick at your eyes. You block out his pleas to come back and bolt right out of the door of the store, wanting to lose him. Your not thinking straight at the momment as you usher through the crowds of the streets to escape from Safin. All you wanted at the moment was to be alone with your thoughts and the monster that you were falling in love with.

After what seemed like minutes of speed walking, you end up on a peaceful street full of small stores and no tourists. The only noise is were the locals talking in Greek. You walk down the street, feeling emotional. The world was spinning as your vision blurred. Wiping your eyes, you feel a wet sensation form on your eyes. Why were you crying? You hated all of this and just wanted to go home. You wished that you had never found those damn codes and fallen into Safin’s cursed trap.

As you drag your feet across the stones, you turn your head to see an empty newsstand with newspapers and television. This was the first time in months you had seen the news. You always wondered what was happening in the world. All of it had been in Greek, but you could manage to read through a few words. America was failing with the pandemic, Anarchy was rampant in post soviet countries, and M16.

M16. M16. M16.

Upon seeing that name, you blink twice. There was no way. Your brain was freaking out. As you read the article, it had stated that London was under control with the protests thanks to the agents of M16. It had been reported that the anonymous leader, who now had a name Safin, tried to bring down M16 but had failed too. Mallory had left an interview, stating that no matter what they were going to find Safin and bring peace to Europe. A smile curved on your lips. There was hope. No longer would you sit around and wait to be saved. You were going to save yourself from Safin.

Unexpectedly, a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you. Turning over, your eyes meet with enraged blue ones. It was none other than Safin. A few pieces of his neatly gelled hair were now in his face. You had only seen Safin pissed off once before, and it hadn’t been a pretty sight. Safin began to pull you down the street and back to were he had parked his Black Landrover. You pulled back against him, but he simply put you into the car and began to drive with no words spoken.

You were certainly in a lot of shit.

-----

“Let go of me!” You chided, ripping your arm away from him. He had thrown you into your bedroom. Safin was beyond pissed that you had run away from him. He cursed at you the whole car ride, making all kinds of threats to your face.

“You foolish little girl,” He hissed, pushing his hair back as he walked paced the room. You watched him like a hawk, glancing at his every move. Safin was more pissed off than he had been last time. “You think you can leave?”

“I’m not your property! You treat me like I’m a child or some prize to be won.”

Safin walked back to you and badgered, “I do not! When I saved you, you were supposed to fall in love with me. Be mine and only mine. I took you from them and gave you a better life and opportunity, and what am I met with? An ungrateful little girl. I spoiled you, gave you a room, respected your space, gave you time, and yet you still hate me. All I wanted was for you to love me. I’m sick of waiting, I have been too good to you. You will be my dutiful wife, whether you like it or not.”

You snorted at his response. All Safin was doing was fueling your anger. “God, your so full of yourself! You sit on a pedestal and think of yourself was superior to everybody around you. Your like a spoiled little brat. When someone doesn’t follow your orders, all you do is throw a temper tantrum. You want me to be scared of you, but truly...I won’t ever be.”

Crawling off of the bed, you slowly walked towards him to get in his face. Your smiling, rubbing it into his face. “What are waiting for? Marry me. I don’t care. You’ve ruined my whole life. But let me warn you.”

“No matter what, I will never love you. I don’t care about how much you try or care. I would rather be married and wait for the day M16 takes you and your horrid men six feet under.”

Safin’s eyebrows are furrowed as he watched your every move. His eyes want to say something, but he can’t. He’s at a loss for words. He had hit a dead end. Out of all the women he had met, you were different. You were stubborn and usually told it how it was. Safin loved your mouth, but there was no denying you were a handful.

Safin’s response was his lips, smashing into yours. His hands wrapped around you, holding you close. You want to fight back and tell him to get off, but your body (unstable) wants a touch. It needs touch, not talk. Your hands cup his cheeks to steady your position. He walked backwards and pushed you onto the bed as his hands traveled up your skirt. His long fingers pulled the skirt until your underwear became exposed.

“Do you want this?” Safin panted, looking down at you. Seeing him on top of him, he’s truly a stunning man. His velvety voice was making you wet. Instead of sounding pissed off, he sounded calm and even caring.

“Shut up, please.” Your hand traveled to his cheek, gently patting it. “I-”

Two of his fingers enter your clitoris, causing you to bite your lip. It was a painful reaction at first, but than became pleasurable. You could no longer hide your pleasure and let out a small moan. “N-need it.”

“You are soaking, my love.” Safin purred. His pace was slow at first, but soon he picked up the pace. He loved hearing your moans and how your fingers dug into his back. “I’m surprised you hadn’t slept with any of the men at M16. Always turning them down, left and right. That is my good girl. I would have killed them anyways.”

Safin loves seeing your face and how beautiful you look with your flushed cheeks and lip biting. All he wanted was to that short dress of your body. He pulled his fingers slowly out of you, letting you take a small breather as he tried to undo his belt. Safin couldn’t seem to it until you intervened, unbuckling the buckle and throwing it right to the side. You wiggle out of the dress and throw it to the side, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. Safin notices this sight as his hands travel all over your body, feeling every piece of exposed skin.

“Love, your glowing.” He smileD, pulling his pants down. His whole body was exposed. It was covered in scars and wrinkles, but you thought he was dashing. Safin wasn’t a tall man, but he was very lean and well built for a sixty-year-old man. His cock was a decent size. You haven’t had sex in years, but it felt so good to not talk. All you wanted was to feel pleasure and nothing else. Moving your body up, you try to turn over but Safin grabs your shoulder.

“No, No, No. I want to see your pretty face.”

You shift up, placing your hands on his hips for a stern grip. Before starting, Safin placed a tender kiss on your lips. It wasn’t rough, but gentle. He started on your neck and began to move down, kissing your whole body like it was a temple. He muttered sweet things such as “you have such soft skin” or “your skin tastes so sweet”. The Anarchist sucked on your right breast to only hear the moans that turned him on. Your whole body felt like it was about to explode. For the first time in a while, you truly felt calm with not a worry in the world. Safin came back up to look at your face. His cock entered your body. It was an alien feeling, but you enjoyed his thrusts. Moans escaped your mouth as you wrapped a hand on his nape, caressing the unruly chocolate curls on his head. You looked into his multichromatic eyes as he fucked you, getting hungrier by the minute. All you feel is pure bliss in the arms of the Anarchist.

-----

Instead of feeling cold, you feel a warm sensation tingle through your body. Fluttering your eyes open, you see an orange and purple sky as the sun sets over the clear ocean. All you wanted to do was stay in this position for the rest of your life, warm and content. Everything was a blur in your mind. As you attempt to drift back to sleep, you feel a heavyweight on his hip. Tilting your head, you see it’s Safin with his nose in your hair, snoring. Your eyes widened, confused. Was it a dream? It had to be.

Grabbing the covers, you move them off of your body to reveal your naked forms. Safin’s hand was draped over your waist as he held your free hand in his sleep. A silent fuck escaped your mouth, looking down at the hand.

You had just fucked the world’s most infamous Anarchist.

Instead of overthinking as you usually did, you simply laid there in a state of stupor. Your thoughts could barely process anything at the moment. It all seemed like a nightmare, but it was real. All to real.

Moving Safin’s hand off of your body, you rolled out of bed and tiptoed to the balcony, grabbing the nearest shirt to protect yourself from the breeze. It wasn’t a dream. Safin was sleeping in the same bed with you, nude, holding you. This situation was far from normal. The shirt you had thrown on was Safin’s shirt that smelt of expensive perfume. All you had remembered was finding that M16 was still active and Safin dragging you back his car. You had fought on the way back tot he villa and he dragged you to your room, scolding you. He demanded to get married to you. At that point, you didn’t care. He was trying to break you, but there was no chance he was going to. Everything had become a blur. All you could remember was his lips crashing into yours before it all went dark.

Your feel your limbs go numb as your heart drops into your stomach. The man you had just had sex with was responsible for thousands of deaths and riots all across Europe. Yet here you were, getting spoiled and fucked by him as the world burned in your eyes. A hand covers your mouth to conceal a sob. Lukewarm tears stream down your cheeks. Your horrified with how low you had gone. You went from being kidnapped and refusing to love Safin, and you had just had sex with him.

Not counting the minutes, you simply stood, horrified with yourself. Safin was like a forbidden fruit, and his juice was now covered all over your body like blood at a crime scene. Everything was silent until a pair of footsteps followed behind you. You don’t even look because you already knew it was him.

“Over the years, I had my men bring me women.” He calmly said, acting like it was a casual occurrence. “All kinds, mainly young and scared. I talked to them and comforted them the best they could, but they always refused me. All of them thought that I was going to rape them since I looked like a monster, in which I was. I could have my way with them, but it was far too brutish to do such a thing.”

“Once I left Spectre, I felt like I had everything. But as the years went by, I became lonelier. I yearned not only for a woman’s touch, but someone to care and talk to. I thought I was too repulsive for anyone to find me attractive.” Safin turned to you, looking into your big [y/e/c] eyes. He grabbed your hands, holding them to his chest. “But when I saw you, my whole life changed.”

“I saw you and had to claim you as mine. Save you from all the pain. I never thought you would have come around to me, but you finally came to your senses. I knew you would since your my smart, good girl.”

You remained speechless as Safin pulled your into a hug. No emotion is going through your body. His arm held your lower back as his hands played with your [y/h/], twisting it in his fingers. “I’m so glad you made the right choice, sweet y/n.”

“But,” He whispered in your ear. “If you try and leave me, I will not give you a second warning. M16 may stand, but they will never find us. Even if they do, they know you are mine. You’re far better off working at my side and being my dutiful wife. But any attempted escapes or runaways, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love. Understood?”

Safin still held you close, wanting to make sure you had understood. Tears form at your eyes as you looked down, unable to face him in the eyes. His scared fingers lift your chin to look at your face. Seeing the tears, a small sigh escapes his lips as he wiped them away.

“Do not weep, my little dove.” He cooed, caressing your cheek. Your lips quivered, trying to keep it concealed. “I know it hasn’t been the easiest journey. But once we marry, we will look at this and laugh. We will be together...forever.”

“After all,” He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead before looking back at your face, a smile. “You are far past the point of the return now.”

Safin took your hand, leading you back into the bed. Once you get into bed, you feel Safin’s arm snake around your body, his nose his your hair once again. His leg’s topped onto yours, restraining you from moving. He smiled as he took a whiff of your floral hair, planting a small kiss on his neck before dozing back off.

You would have screamed or kicked, but you couldn’t. Not because you weren’t restrained, but because all of the fight that was left in you as gone. Before meeting Safin, your grip on reality was slowly declining. But the small piece you were hanging onto shattered. Now, you were a shell of the women you once were before. Knowing your family was alive and worrying about your safety made tears prick at your eyes. Safin, whether you liked it or not, was going to be your husband. To say that you hated or loved with was mind baffling. You couldn’t hate someone you had just had sex with. But you had to stay alive. For your family, for your friends, for M16, for yourself. Just because he was going to be your husband, didn’t mean you still didn’t despise him. The rumors with Safin were true. He always got what he wanted, when he wanted, no matter what.

Just because Safin had gotten what he wanted didn’t mean that you couldn’t change that.

[mockinggold]

Excerpt from everyone changes (and my darling we are no exception)

“It was no secret that Shouto's family was extremely well off. Both of his parents were successful in the medical field, but Shouto considered them humble. They didn't have one of those gargantuan houses or unnecessarily expensive clothing. They got what they needed, some of what they wanted, and didn't flaunt their wealth. His mother was usually quite generous. She knew that their family had more money than they needed, so she donated to charities, tipped minimum wage workers well, was overall generous.

Even when Shouto told her that his ex-boyfriend's house burned down, she decided to help out. Shouto was friends with all of his exes except one (who can get second degree burns in hell. Not third, Shouto wanted that bitch to feel every ounce of pain, that scum doesn't deserve any scorched nerves), and even though they had been broken up, Shouto and his mother were happy to help because he was a good person and they talked and caught up with each other from time to time. Rei grew up in a third-world country, immigrating to Shouto's home country to become a doctor. Shouto doesn't remember, but his mother loved to tell Shouto about how when he was two, he walked around the courtroom with a purpose as Rei was getting her citizenship.

Shouto's father wasn't as generous as his mother was. Enji wasn't too fond of the idea of helping Shouto's ex for some weird reason that Shouto is too embarrassed to admit. His parents got into a mild argument about it and Shouto felt awkward watching it happen. They worked it out, they always did.

One day, Shouto asked his mother a question about it. "Mom," he started. "You're extremely generous with money. I understand why; we have the means to do so. Why is dad so much more conservative with money?"

"Well, it's rooted in our upbringings," she said. "When I was in Peru, my family was dirt poor. We didn't have the best furniture, the best home, but we still invited people over, because we had a lot of love to give. I wanted to have a better life for my family. A house that could meet its needs and still be filled with love.

Rei looked up at the sky as the two of them sat on the porch. The sun beginning to disappear as it painted the houses golden also caused the weather to cool down, the cooling concrete taking away heat ever so slightly from the underside of his legs. A couple of cars were parked on the side of the road. People that didn't live in the neighborhood didn't come by very often. Seeing as Shouto's neighborhood was a no outlet neighborhood, it was useless for them to do so.

Rei pointed at the cars lined up on the curb. "Back in Peru, we didn't go near parked cars," she said softly. Shouto tilted his head, waiting for her to explain. "It wasn't uncommon for cars to explode. Terrorists would rig cars and they would explode. Sometimes I would be walking with my friends and we heard a faint explosion and smoke rise. We would keep going because it was relatively common. It was a little scary, but at that point, we were used to it, we became numb to the fear."

Shouto imagined a scenario where he would be walking down the street and a car exploded because of terrorists. It would definitely make headlines all around, maybe national news depending on how many people got hurt. The thought irked him, yet his mother spoke about it so casually.

She waved her hand dismissively. "But I'm getting off-topic," she said. "Do you know how I was able to afford this home, this lifestyle?"

Shouto was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to answer, so he leaned in, waiting for an answer.

"I got lucky."

Shouto scrunched his nose, not sure if he fully agreed with his mother. "But... you worked extremely hard to get where you are."

"Yes, I worked hard, but there's so much more to it. Tell me, do you know how many people immigrate to this country a year in hopes of a better life?"

Shouto thought long and hard, not a hundred percent sure on what the correct answer was. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Millions," his mother stressed. "Millions of people come into this country, legally and illegally, in order to make a better life for themselves. They work hard, do everything they can, work for ten, twelve hours a day to make a living, get an education, work just as hard as I did. Do you know how many of those millions get in a similar position to us?"

Shouto shook his head. Rei had a weak smile on her face. "Not many," she said. "Have I ever told you the story of how I got a visa?"

Shouto shook his head, now extremely intrigued. With a soft smile, she looked to the other houses that lined the streets. "Back when I was married to my first husband, with your two half-siblings, I went to get a visa for three months here. I was going to travel across the country for different job interviews. I gave the woman the papers, she read them over, and she shook her head."

Shouto's eyes slightly widened, confused as to why they would deny him a visa. "She told me, 'No. I cannot give you a visa. You stated that your mother and sister live here. You will just stay with them after your visa expires.' And I was shocked, heartbroken, scared. I needed that visa."

Shouto leaned in even more, wanting to hear more and more of what his mother had to say. "And I looked at her, and I said, 'No, you're wrong.' I'll never forget the look of shock she had when I told her that. I said, 'I didn't have to tell you about my mother and sister. I could have lied and said I had no family here and you would have never known. I came to you an honest woman because I need these job interviews. I will not stay with my mother and sister. I have three reasons that I can't, and they are sitting in the waiting room right now. So please, may I have this visa?'"

Shouto was speechless, he wasn't sure what to say to that, knowing his mother argued her way into the country. He always knew that his mother had that type of drive, but he had no idea that something like that ever happened. "She looked at me with a confused and shocked face. She told me, 'This is highly irregular, I need to go speak to my manager'. She must have only been gone for five minutes, but those were some of the longest five minutes of my life. Finally, she came back. And she looked at me and said, 'Seventeen days. Your job interviews will span about seventeen days, that's all I'm giving you.' And she stamped my visa and handed it to me. I almost collapsed at that moment, but I got my visa. That was January 15th, 1991. Do you know what happened the next day?"

Shouto once again shook his head. "January 16th, 1991. The United States invaded Kuwait. Desert Storm. That day, all the embassies closed down for months, nobody could get visas," she said.

It made him extremely uneasy to hear about how his mother almost wasn't allowed in the country. He already knew that she was there illegally for a short amount of time. He knew that two of his sisters and his brother came to the country illegally. Because according to them, it was hard as hell to get into the country legally, it was their only option.

"So to go back to your original question," Rei said. "Our mindsets and upbringings are what makes your father and I think so much different about money. I feel like I got a lot of the money I have now by luck, making me feel like I can be generous because I was close to not having it, I know what it's like to not have it. Your father, on the other hand, grew up in a middle-class home and is now in the upper-middle class. He feels that he earned every cent of his, which makes him more hesitant to give it away. And there's nothing wrong with that. Just like political ideologies, there's nothing wrong with wanting to hold onto your finances as long as nobody is getting harmed in the process. Hard work, getting lucky, the two are polar opposites, but you'll see that in those less fortunate. They are willing to give away things to others in need because they know what it's like.

Shouto was not a huge fan of being touched, it was no secret after he had to spill a couple at the mental hospital, but one thing he loved was when his mother would ruffle his hair gently like she did when he was small. She raised her hand and hovered it towards Shouto, knowing now that he liked warning when someone was going to touch him. He scooted closer to his mother, leaning forward. With a smile, she ruffled his hair, making him feel safe.”

—————————

Anyway I just think my dad has the most swag in the world

[thejudgingtrash]

[ID: A dark camping side with a fire pit in the foreground. A white frame highlights the logs and the fire. Orange sparks ascend into the sky. Underneath the white frame stands the title ‘A Warm Place at the Fire’. End of ID.]

As promised, @goldendaysareahead​ a little fanfic about my Camp Hestia AU!

I hope you enjoy it and thank you for @the-real-annabeth-chase​ for being yet again an amazing beta!

A Warm Place at the Fire (3,8k) 

“There! We’ve almost made it!” yelled Bode. His hooves would have brought him much faster near his goal if it weren’t for the mortal legs next to him that trampled to keep up with his speed. Thunder crackled in the distance which made Bode’s brown skin glow in an unusual pale blue.

The satyr looked over his shoulder. His enhanced hearing made him filter out the noise much better. It also helped him focus on the danger behind him. The growls, the hissing and the mass that the animal carried as it surged ahead to kill its prey. “Don’t look behind you!” panted Bode as his friend was about to turn his head.

“Are you kidding me?” coughed the young boy. His legs were burning, and his lungs felt like they were set on fire. “Look who’s talking!”

“Parker, now’s not the time!”

Thunder.

Everything today fell apart. Everything today was nothing but a major disaster. Everything… was simply strange. Parker was used to strange things. He had a vivid fantasy as a kid and always talked about the plants singing for him before he started elementary school. But today really took the cake.

It started with Parker failing three reports at school and slowly peaked to Parker’s father getting robbed in his shop, to said father calling Bode to tell him to put Parker far away in a summer camp for gifted kids out of all places and now after running through the busy streets of New York City, a hell of a ride in a taxi cab that three blind ladies who fought over one single eyeball drove, some weird animal hybrid had sensed them and decided to hunt them the minute they arrived in Long Island.

Oh, and Bode Underwood, Parker’s newfound best friend and neighbor who had just transferred to his middle school, was apparently a satyr with the hairiest goat legs Parker had ever seen and he even had tiny horns hidden in his tight black curls.

The earth shook. It was an earthquake. It had to be an earthquake. But the way the ruptures of the earth had shifted it was clear that it could not be an earthquake. The massive body of an animal still wanted its prey. Tearing two children apart was what he desired.

“There! We’ve almost made it, hold on, Parker!” hissed Bode.

Parker was trying to not land on his face as the path became muddier. It had rained the previous days in New York. “Look! The sign!”

Parker’s eyes followed Bode’s arm. It was true. Deep into the forest there was an archway. It was made out of marble and a wooden sign said New Athens. Behind the archway were… buildings? Houses? Didn’t Parker’s dad tell him that he would be brought into a summer camp? As the two boys came closer Parker could even read the small insignia underneath: formerly known as Camp Half-Blood.

A roar made both nearly jump. The animal. The monster. It also hissed?

Parker jumped over a fallen tree branch and Bode bleated. Oh, he’s really a goat, Parker thought.

A roar. Parker felt the heat in his back. Was he imagining acid tearing his jeans jacket apart or was it truly happening? He had no time to care about it.

The two boys nearly reached the archway. “JUMP!” yelled Bode and Parker did. The both of them slid through the archway and were greeted with silence. Parker vowed to himself to never slide on mud again. The taste of grass and dirt was truly displeasing. No wind was howling and only the echoing songs of the cicadas kept them company.

This so-called camp looked strange. It was a clash of cultures. It was a fight between new and old. To Parkers right it did look like the old grounds of a camp. They looked like they had sporting events, a dinner area and a large area for all kinds of other activities. It would have been fairly normal if it weren’t for deadly ancient weapons lying around in front of a cabin and the dozens of cabins themselves. Each cabin had a different character to it as if they were dedicated to someone. They radiated a strange force. Parker instinctively knew that it was old and ancient, that it was powerful.

The left of the campgrounds were the polar opposite. It wasn’t just buildings and houses. It was an entire city. It was a huge construction side with many finished and unfinished buildings. A city so big yet so hidden deep in the woods of Long Island. The architecture was astounding, and the design was precise and heavily inspired by the world of Ancient Greece.

Was that a CVS out of all things placed into something that looked like the pantheon? And it had a Trader Joe’s next to it in something that looked like another temple? An entire Ancient Greek Taco Bell with a crunch wrap supreme advertisement that had a lightning bolt pressed into its side?! And in the middle of the city was an old market place like in Hollywood movies?

What’s going on? asked Parker himself.

A big blue house seemed to draw the line between old and new. The old ways and the new life. The yesterday and the new beginning at dawn. The old life that Parker had and the new one that rose like a phoenix from its ashes.

Yes, Bode and he made it. The boys had truly made it. They were alive and safe! For now. They gave each other a high five as they rested on the ground and thanked the shining stars above them for their guidance.

A clash disrupted their celebratory mood. The beast. Parker finally saw it in its entire glory. The head of a lion. The back of a reptile? Was that a dragon? And its tale was a snake out of all things?

Fearsome snarls and growls were drowned out behind the invisible layer that prevented the beast from entering campgrounds. The piercing yellow eyes shifted and tried to find the mortal flesh it desired only to be disappointed. The barrier was too strong to be penetrated. The massive beast turned around and was lost from Parker’s sight as it became one with the forest’s darkness. Parker’s adrenaline rush slowly faded away and his heart rate returned to normal.

What he felt rushing over him was a wave of fatigue. He felt the aching pain of his burning lungs that demanded more oxygen, the pain in his bones and muscles that wanted some rest. The young boy sank into the soft grass and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Bode only patted his shoulder as he sat down next to him. The satyr was tired but not as exhausted as the camp’s newest family member.

“You’ve made it,” Bode whispered.

“You’ve made it here, safely! Everything will be alright once the moon chariot sets and the one of the sun rises, we’ll take the entire day to truly process what happens and make a plan about what your father had said, alright?” Parker was too tired to realize the true meanings behind Bode’s words. He only mumbled a “yeah,” and tried to breathe with a steady rhythm.

“Hey Parker,” Bode started, “You just survived the chimera which is something I’m incredibly thankful as that beast has killed other kids prior.”

Chimera? For some odd reason that weird Hercules movie from Disney came to Parker’s mind. “It did what now?”

Bode raised his hands in defense. “Woah hold your horses! No one was seriously injured – this time.” he said.

“What’s important is that you’ll catch your breath and meet the new camp director. Right there at the fireplace.” Bode pointed into the distance and Parker’s gaze followed. “I know all of this is new and weird to you, especially since this place isn’t the most organized, but trust me.”

It was true what Bode said. The juxtaposition between the two worlds that clashed at Camp Half-Blood were simply weird to Parker’s unaccustomed eyes. But there! At the old camp site, right at the edge of old and new, there she was. A woman poking a log with what looked like a golden hook. She wore a brown gown and held a hand to the flames. The flames rose and Parker was worried that the strange lady might have singed her eyebrows accidentally. But no. It was the opposite. It was as if the fire were dancing for her. As if it’s flaring was a beautiful melody for her eyes and only her eyes.

The orange and yellow and golden streaks of the flames were hypnotizing. Parker didn’t even realize how he was already standing up on his two feet and walking towards the pit. Bode followed him. The pit looked small in the distance but only enlarged close up. Parker didn’t feel fear – it was the polar opposite. He felt as calm as he had never been before. The young boy stopped.

“Parker Mbata,” the woman smiled and turned her head to him. The reflection of the flames danced in her eyes and Parker knew that the orange highlighted his beautiful black skin. Beautiful dark skin that she had as well.

“How do you know my name?” he asked her and raised an eyebrow. His voice cracked; he didn’t want to appear impolite as that was what most people thought wrongfully about him. The woman only smiled and pointed to a seat next to her. She was middle-aged and her black braids would probably reach her knees if she had been standing upright. She was pretty. A round face that loved to smile. It wasn’t the movie star look, but she had the calm and grace of someone who had seen much of the world and was able to see the wonderful side of things.

For Parker, she had the aura of a friendly aunt that would help out with homework, try to play on a console with you and would bake here and there from time to time with you. Rib crushing hugs, hands that drove through hair, a pat on the shoulder that said: “No matter how far you’ll go, remember that I’ll always be proud of you.”

If it hadn’t been merely the surface level of her being. She was no ordinary woman like his math teacher – of that Parker was certain. Her eyes. The gleam of the orange nourished her skin and highlighted her beauty. The warmth in her eyes radiated the power of a thousand hugs.

She reeked of power that should never be underestimated.

“I know the names of all new campers,” she simply answered with an honest smile on her face.

“Thank you, Bode.” The woman said and shifted her gaze to the young satyr next to him. Parker could have sworn that he saw his best friend blush at the compliment. That or it was a simple illusion from the fire. “You may now go to your parents’ house. I’m sure Juniper is still waiting on the porch, and Grover will be over the moon with your first search that was a successful one at that.”

The corner of Bode’s mouth threatened to tear his face apart from grinning so big. “See you tomorrow, Parker!” he said before he bowed to the weird lady.

Parker waved goodbye and saw how lights of lanterns turned on in the modern part of the camp as Bode crossed the streets. They turned off again automatically as he turned to the left.

“You may call me Hestia. I’m the new camp director of Camp Half-Blood.”

“Hestia,” Parker repeated, and he saw how she nodded.

“This is a camp for very special people,” Hestia continued and poked the fire. A flame erupted and rose to the sky. “You are safe in here. No monsters or other meddlers will interfere within camp boarders or in the wider city of New Athens. You will train like other half-bloods, find your strength and weaknesses so that you may survive into adulthood and now how to protect yourself and those that you love.”

Half-blood? Monsters? Survive into adulthood? The questions stood bright on Parker’s face as his dark brown eyes widened.

Hestia laughed and patted his back. The warm feeling of being comforted flooded Parker’s body.

“You look an awful lot like my sister,” Hestia said after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“People just say that I look like my dad only with a better fade on the sides of my head,” Parker denied. “Also, how can I look like your sister?”

Hestia grinned yet again and shook her head. The golden jewelry on her braids clanged. “That is not what I mean, Parker,” Hestia stated.

“Her personality. Her abilities. Her capabilities. All of that and more I see in you. After all, she is your mother.”

Parker’s jaw dropped. Hestia was actually his aunt? She knew his mother? How?! His father had always told him that his mother was a busy person and big in the botanic scene, chasing new discovery after new discovery and that that was the reason why she was never around. Also, Parker had the suspicion that she had fled the country so that she didn’t have to pay child support.

“But I see more in you. Further down your line.” Hestia placed her index finger underneath his chin and lifted it up slightly.

“I can see Morpheus as your great-grandfather. I can see Hermes even further down there.”

“Hermes like the Greek god?”

“Yes, my nephew is a funny albeit sometimes exhausting one.”

“So you want to say that I’m a descendant of Greek gods?”

Hestia nodded. “That I do.”

Parker coughed. Hestia was worried. She waved her hand in the air and Parker had to suppress the scream that was bubbling inside of him as a bottle with a clear liquid appeared. Now he definitely believed her. It wasn’t for the fact that a terrible monster had hunted him for nearly two hours earlier.

“Here drink this slowly. Do not haste, I’d rather not clean up the burnt remains of my newest nephew,” she winked. Parker took the bottle and a first sip.

“Nectar. The drink of the gods. It heals you demigods but too much and it’ll set you on fire.”

The drink tasted like good times. Like the fondest memories that had been deeply buried inside of Parker. The fudgy chocolate brownies with a hint of peanut butter that his father used to make for him whenever he had a good mood. And now his father had sent him away.

The disappointment hit Parker harder than the strenuous activity that had been fleeing the chimera earlier. Hestia sensed his mood and decided to distract him.

“Normally I start camp tours and initiations in the mornings, but I see that I should start out early. You aren’t the only new camper but who would mind a little head start?”, she winked again. “Let me do it differently as well. We used to show a terrible introduction movie around to introduce you into the new world but the reception has been mostly negative.”

Okay thought Parker and nodded slowly.

“How do you feel about your classmates? The Jackson twins?”

Parker narrowed his eyebrows. The twins were weird in a way that most twins were. They were definitely the sort of twins that could read each other’s minds and answer for one another if it weren’t for the fact that they seemed to annoy each other. Apart from that, they were also very friendly and sat down at lunch with him at school despite their constant bickering going on Parker’s nerves.

Ari was the more out-going and bold one and her twin Theo was quieter and more reserved. And he wore glasses that he always readjusted. Parker was definitely not fond of him. No, he was absolutely not. And the swoon in the pit of his stomach that he felt was something he would ignore for the time being.

The more important question: what did the twins have to do with all of this? Hestia grinned as if she had read all of his thoughts and emotions. “As much as I adore Ariadne and Theodoros, we need to begin a generation earlier with their parents. I have much to thank them for.”

Hestia’s immortal memory brought her pictures back that happened decades ago. As her brother threatened to smite Perseus Jackson for daring to stand up to him and ask him for another wish instead of the gift of immortality.

“From now on, I want you to properly recognize the children of the gods. All the children . . . of all the gods,” young Perseus Jackson wished. “I want you to promise to claim your children—all your demigod children—by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right and survive.”

Oh, how her youngest brother had been furious. “And the minor gods,” Perseus exclaimed. “Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. Calypso and the other peaceful Titan-kind should be pardoned too. And Hades as well. As for Hestia and him, I have another wish for them. Give them their seats in the Olympian council back.”

That demand made the eyebrows of Poseidon and Athena rise as Zeus’ mouth grew into an even thinner line.

And then Perseus Jackson had turned around to her and had given her the biggest gift she had ever received in her immortal life. “And aunt Hestia, you are the heart and soul of Mount Olympus. You are the guidance and comfort we seek, the hope that remains in our very core. With your permission—the permission from all gods—I’d ask Hestia if she would like to lead Camp Half-Blood as a new co-camp director alongside Chiron and Dionysus until he is done with his punishment?”

Then Hestia did only two things. Hug the savior of Olympus and accept his gracious gift to her as Zeus was legally bound to make his nephews wishes come true.

“Mr. Jackson did all of these things when he was a teenager? With his—uhhh—future wife? And Bode’s dad?” The tales of him having that much influence seemed too great and big and so… unrealistic? Parker couldn’t believe that Percy Jackson was that sort of man. He was a pastry baker and started crying whenever his wife butchered the name of one of his fancy creations according to Ari. That and he was supposedly very busy with his bakery Blue Jackson’s in Downtown Manhattan and another subsidiary in Los Angeles. And that person persuaded Olympian gods as a teenager? Saved the world as a child?

“I mean Mr. Jackson is just a baker,” Parker shrugged. “And Mrs. Chase is this crazy busy architect that also plays mom taxi somehow and drives her kids around while she’s running from meeting to meeting?” At least that was what Theo had texted him ages ago.

Hestia pointed to the beautiful city of New Athens. Not the majestic buildings that stood proudly there surrounding the market place but beyond that where the façade began to crack as the largest construction side he had ever seen. “Yes, Annabeth is incredibly busy with her occupation. As it was she that bore the grounds of New Athens as a safe haven for your kind. Do you see that house on the hill?”

It was pompous, enormous and combined the modern and ancient style beautifully. A light on the second floor was on. “The residence of the Jackson-Chase’s.”

Parker’s jaw dropped. These people must have been filthy rich. No wonder that Mr. Jackson ordered flower arrangements on the regular from his dad. Those pieces were expensive. Parker’s eyes shifted slightly to the left. A few feet away was a Blue Jackson’s bakery right next to the house. Easy commute for Mr. Jackson.

“The illuminated room is Annabeth’s office. It seems like she is still working on her designs.”

The light was suddenly switched off. “Oh!” Hestia sounded surprised. “It looks like Perseus was for once successful in telling his wife she ought to sleep. Oh well.”

Parker snickered.

“After all it is way past two in the morning. You should also rest so soon.”

But Parker didn’t want to. He was wrapped up in the tales that Hestia told him. The middle schooler reassured Hestia that he was yet not entirely worn out. The goddess sighed like a tired mother.

“And it was she, Annabeth, that restored the honor of the gods and built a cabin for every one of us gods—even the ones without half-bloods—so that we have places for our children, visitors and prayers. Until you are claimed, you will stay at Cabin Zero—my cabin,” Hestia smiled.

“We all start at Zero. We all start from nothing only to learn and to grow into something. You will find new friends, a new life, a new home. Just like your parents intended and. I am sure that Mr. Mbata will arrive soon safely at camp. I have given him instructions to hide in a secret place due to the monsters starting to sense you.”

That made Parker smile and relief spread throughout him. He would be reunited with his father very soon.

“You remind me very much of Perseus Jackson, Parker Mbata. Since the introduction movie left a sour taste in many campers and inhabitants of New Athens and you do not appear to be so sleepy, let me retell the tale of Perseus Jackson from the beginning. The most famous demigod of them all. Greater than any other hero the Greek pantheon had ever seen.”

The flames seemed to dance around goddess and demigod. “He was just like you. Small, a little bit on the scrawny side…”

Parker frowned a little bit, but Hestia giggled at her backhanded compliment.

“A half-blood. A child of man and god… Perseus gets quite frequently asked to retell his story. At first, he did so begrudgingly. He wrote his memories down. For his and anyone else’s sake. Had an entire folder with papers in his hand as he sat down. But now he grew confident and into an incredible speaker. He speaks from his heart and not from paper.”

Hestia inhaled sharply. The eldest child of Kronos turned her face to the red of the flames to recount the events that happened nearly twenty years ago.

“Perseus always starts his stories with ‘look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood’…”

The End

I’m not really an OC person but I hope you enjoyed this little thought experiment regardless ;>

If anyone is interested in my other fanfics, I can offer you How Could You (Percabeth, sad, finished) and The Fool (Percabeth, mystery, on-going) :3

[willymywonkers]

The Factory (4/5)

Summary: The 4th golden ticket is found, and Charlie begins to have his doubts. Maude walks with him to the local candy store, where a miracle happens.

A/N: This is the SADDEST chapter yet!!! But, it does have a happy ending.

Tagged: @holdmeicant @wonkasmissstarshine

The next day, the 4th golden ticket was found by a young boy, who was a bit of a smart ass.

Soon, it came down to finding the very last golden ticket. People were fanatical, and were buying up hundreds of thousands of chocolate bars a day.

After that incident with Mr. Morris, Maude called out of school for a few days.

Maude was in her living room, watching the latest ticket winner bask in praise, which he didn't deserve.

None of the kids deserved their golden tickets. Maude saw herself in Charlie. She was a young girl with dreams greater than anyone could've ever imagined. Willy took inspiration from her zany and weird side.

They were polar opposites, Will and Maude, yet they both shared the same dream.

She remembered how they would lay down in a field, asking each other impossible questions.

"Imagine if clouds were actually made from cotton candy? What flavor do you think they'd have?" Will would ask. She remembered him having a large head gear, and a very short haircut. His violet eyes were always filled with curiosity.

"I'd think they'd taste like the most delicious thing you can think of. Instead of regular cotton candy, where you do know what flavor it is, maybe a cloud could be like a mystery, and you don't know what flavor you're gonna get." Maude said, staring at the sky.

Willy smiled. He didn't smile much because of how much it hurt with his head gear, but he did smile around Maude.

She turned off the television, which just seemed to upset her more. Maude unwrapped another stick of gum and popped it in her mouth. She grabbed her coat and her purse, walking out into the cold winter evening.

She stood in front of the large factory, looking up at its towers. Maude placed her gloved hands against the steel bars of the gate.

The cold burned her cheeks and nose red.

In her mind, she felt reminiscent of the nights where Willy and her would brainstorm different ideas for candies.

She didn't want to obsesse over the distant memories. It seemed apparent that he didn't want anything to do with her anymore.

That didn't matter now. She came to the factory for a reason. She wanted Charlie and his family to have hope.

Suddenly, a soft familiar voice alerted her from her thoughts.

"Ms. Figgle, are you alright?" Charlie asked. "You haven't been in class for a few days. Mr. Morris has been teaching in place for you, but it's not as fun."

Maude turned to face Charlie, smiling sadly. "I've been better. I'll be back next Tuesday."

"Grandpa Joe spent his last shilling on a chocolate bar, just to find the golden ticket, and I think Dad isn't going back to work anytime soon." Charlie frowned, looking less cheerful than he usually would.

"I'm sorry, Charlie." Maude frowning as well.

"I think I've got even less of a chance at getting a ticket then before." Charlie looking down at the mud on his pants.

It pained Maude to see Charlie this upset. His cheerful self made her day most of the time.

She kneeled down to the boy's level, holding him close like he was her own son. "Please don't give up, dear. I gave up a long, long time ago, and I regret it to this day. You're one of the luckiest boys in the world, Charlie Bucket. You've come too far to give up now."

Charlie hugged Maude, tightly. "Would you mind walking me home, Ms. Figgle?"

"Of course not, Charlie. I'd be delighted to." Maude held onto the boy's hand as they were walking down the street.

Just as they were walking past the candy shop, Charlie spotted a lone 10 pounds stuck in a small puff of snow on the sidewalk.

Maude let go of his hand, and walked into the shop with him. Charlie took off his gloves, and purchased a fudgemallow delight Wonka bar.

He opened it gently, revealing Wonka's very last golden ticket.

Maude's eyes widened. People suddenly surrounded him in hopes he would give them the golden ticket.

"Leave him alone." Maude shouted. The shop got quiet. "Listen to me, Charlie. You have to run straight home, okay? Don't let anyone have it."

He nodded, smiling wide. "Thank you, Ms. Figgle. Thank you so much."

Charlie hugged her one last time before sprinting out of the shop.

Maude felt happy for the first time in a while.

[catboyminato]

punk!Minato brain rot at 2 am headcannons isn’t this quality content

do I wanna know and daddy issues as a person

he has an undercut bc I said so 🔫

probably gets dress coded like every day tbh (that’s disgusting and rude ❤️ his fit is incredible 😌)

leather jackets and doc martens type beat

probably customized his Gekkoukan uniform so much it doesn’t even look like a uniform 😭😭

canon: hello my name is minato nice to meet u ig

this Minato: why the FUCK do u a have a gun and can I try it and what the FUCK is going on out there what is that ugly ass green that graces my delicate eyes

Mitsuru “oh wow! I hate him.” kirijo

SEES has a fuck jar for every time he says fuck

minato, opening a door: what’s up fuckers

Minato, making a sandwich: where the fuck is the bread

Minato, watching TV: what the fuck im not crying it’s just dusty as fuck in here

SEES, broke: pls,,,,stop

“kIrIjO-sAn wHeN dO i gEt tO bLoW sHiT uP”

extremely disappointed that his persona is Orpheus he wanted smth cooler

“who the fuck plays a Lyre?? what the fuck is this?? intro to theatre?? give me the cool big scary one that popped out of u rn” —Minato Arisato

Orpheus: :,(

“fuck the system and eat the rich”

“what about Mitsuru-Senpai?”

“eat. the. rich.”

Mitsuru absolutely despises this man with a burning passion

junpei thinks he’s cool (and is jealous but who wouldn’t be tbh)

yukari thinks he’s refreshing compared to miss “I SiGneD YoU uP fOr SUMMEr ScHool” and mr “pRoTein”

now she’s stuck with mr “good morning everyone, *looks at Mitsuru* not you though, you can choke”

at least he has a sense of style 😽

he doesn’t like Mitsuru (omg what gave that away 🙀)

he thinks she’s 1. too stuck up 2. is rich and eat the rich and 3. is partially the cause of this whole mess 😻

no longer boy with headphones he’s boy with foul mouth 😌

lowkey kinda smart but you’d never be able to tell

✨tattoos ✨

literally always coming back to the dorm with bruises and scratches and nobody knows why

spoiler: it’s bc he’ll hear ppl talking shit about his friends (yeah even Mitsuru🔪) and will beat the shit out of them 😼

he got into a brawl in the hallway with 5 kids after he heard them talking shit about Shinji after he died ❤️ as he should king

Shinjiro and Minato said “tough on outside but softies on inside” rights and that’s what they bond over 😽

they’re lowkey pretty close and bc I said so Minato met Shinji early after exploring that part of town he’s in

now they’re punk buddies 😼 (is Shinji punk agsjashajsh oh well ❤️)

Minato would actually die for each and every one of SEES even if he doesn’t show it

the tough guy facade was born from his parents death as a coping mechanism so he never got hurt again 😝

Minato “im a motherfucking wildcard bitches” Arisato

peircings 😼

he looks scary we know but you’d never guess he spends time with like a 9 year old and buys her dinner and listens to her problems (we stan)

we love a man who can sit and listen 😌✨

yukari saw him buy Maiko takayoki and decided “hmm this is new” and thus began the cycle of “hes not so tough after all”

Junpei’s “he’s not so tough after all” was him spending time with the elderly couple who runs Bookworms 😌

Akihiko noticed how, if he could, Minato would take hits for teammates

someone tried to mess with Fuuka and he sent them to the ✨h o s p i t a l✨

fuukas realization was when the scary looking boy who cuffs his jeans and has tats made friends with her 😽

Mitsuru’s took a hot minute bc uhhhhh slowburn 🤠

hers was how he continuesly tried to help the student body even tho they rejected him bc uh he’s kinda ✨s c a r y✨

which was like?? interesting to her tbh bc these were the kids who dubbed him the outsider and yet he still strived to help them 😾

so she made the twink part of student council

and he kinda went off ngl 😀

and that’s on being a valuable asset ✨

although he only calls Mitsuru “daddy issues” which pisses her off ❤️

her personal ✨d i s c o v e r y✨ is him lending his blazer (HAJSHS the “blazer” covered in pins and chains 😭😭 which is ripped in some places 😽) one day as an umbrella 🥺

“you’ll catch a cold, daddy issues”—says the bitch soaking wet after letting her use his jacket

when he’s a gentleman 😫

when they get past the enemies stage to friends 😩

mitsuru thinks his perspectives are outlandish and refreshing

“just say no tf”—his answer in being told she needs a fiancé

did he lie tho 😭

apologizes for being a dick 🤩

will beat the fuck outta anyone who disrespects his rich friend ❤️

haha kinda scary when he’s mad ❤️

what’s that wipes blood from mouth while smiling aesthetic cause that’s him

fashionable king we love to see it

ceo of smirking

ceo of “hey daddy issues”

ceo of “fuck”

he got his earring stuck to his pillow once and only Shinji knows

“Does it fucking look like I read?” —Minato arisato who read the entire twilight series and is an Edward stan

akihiko likes to brawl with him cuz he thinks his street fighting style is nifty

can literally hear him from a mile away due to his loud ass chains and boots (stealth 0 ❤️)

has small monochromatic Arcana inspired tattoos littered around his torso (it’s a game of where’s Waldo 🤩)

“I don’t listen to pop.”—says Minato on his way to listen to One Direction

Mitsuru likes to ask what each tattoo means (sometimes it’s just like “idk i saw a guy I beat up once have it and I thought it was cool 😼”)

“rude boy” (what not based off the rihhana song where did u get that 🤠) is Mitsuru’s nickname for him

likes collecting pins 🤠

has way too much jewelry yukari will just steal some occasionally 💀

lowkey self conscious about being seen with Mitsuru

lmfao imagine seeing this punk who only wears leather jackets, doc martens and ripped jeans holding hands with the literal polar opposite of him

taking 🖤🩸🛹 and ❤️📚💳 to a whole a new level

he thinks she can do better and doesn’t want to tarnish her name 🤧

mitsuru learned from him it’s not her obligation to give two flippity flying fucks and WILL hold his hand as they walk down the hallways 😌✨

LMFAO imagine ure just a regular student and all of sudden the student council president who owns the whole damn school walks in wearing the foul mouthed blue haired punks jacket 😭

“What in the wattpad”—Gekkoukan

“what in the goth x prep”—SEES

Minato has fine ass eyeliner sorry I don’t make the rules ❤️

in conclusion punk!minato is best Minato

[m00nlitknight]

wherever i may roam. ( 1 of 2 )

fandom: IT (2017) pairing:  patrick hockstetter / female reader word count:   2.1k+ warnings:  underage drinking. loud scenes. men being creepy. patrick being patrick. extra: based heavily off one of these prompts.  part two in the works!  i hope you all enjoy this, and have a fantastic day c:

Having parties wasn’t a known rarity within the ranks of Derry, but they weren’t a known phenomenon on a superficial level, either.  Within the ranks of upper class high schoolers, they were typically done in the fashion of a small circle of friends rather than anything colossal.  Those instances and occasions of plenty were saved for the rare event of a musical guest.  While the quality of the music wasn't considered a static variable, the fun and energy that ensued from the crowd - teens and college students, usually - was.  For that, many found themselves grateful for the bands, even if they were bad metal covers of pop songs, cover bands for hot acts that didn’t make tour stops in Maine, or just song-writers who were trying to make it in the world of music.

You couldn’t complain -- you shouldn’t, really.  Being the daughter of a well-off lawyer whose business was usually taken out of town, and a girl with a reputation to upkeep; these events didn’t just fly under your radar, they were on a completely different radar altogether.  It sucked, really, to be thrust into expectations you didn’t care to uphold, but not having the might to fight back.  So, you did what you could and lived with it.

However, living with it meant blatantly going against the rule of social rules, society, and your father all the while being directly under their nose.  It was a needle-thin line to walk, but one you felt you walked with confidence and care.

Which, is how you managed to sneak out of the house undetected and attend the concert that had been whispered within the school the previous week.  Spoken from under the bleachers, overheard from the bathroom by those who smoked and considered themselves too cool for the joint; who knew your keen sense of hearing would become so useful?

From the moment your father bid you a sterile adieu, composed of a hollow embrace and chaste kiss to the head, you had begun putting your plans in motion.  Wherever he went, likely to a hotel for whatever trial was taking place early the next morning, or whatever, you couldn’t find it in yourself to particularly care.

Looking the part of a ‘typical’ metalhead wasn’t something you were truly infatuated with to any degree.  Sure, putting on the guise of torn jeans, fishnets, boots, and whatever decimated t-shirt you could find was a great bound of comfort compared to the typical stuffy outfits you had, but it felt tiring to have not just one, but two kinds of social guises to keep up.  Polar opposites, at that.  Surely, you deserve an award for it.

You ease the vehicle into park, a full street away from the actual event, to ensure the protection of the metallic body of your car.  Next, you lean to look yourself in the eye -- eyes rimmed with a sharp black, smudged with burgundy eyeshadow, and lips done with a simple gloss.  Had you any actual lip colors, you would’ve reached for them instead.  You stare for a moment longer, admiring the well-pointed wing extending your likely bored resting face.

Stud earrings and a lazily done ponytail completed your look, the rest of your outfit accented with bits of silver jewelry you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly care about.  Several rings were on your fingers, simple silver bands you had bought from thrift stores recently.  In the frosty, night air you wore a black cardigan over a simple black tank top.  Nondescript, you hope, and would allow you to simply blend into the background.  A simple, forgettable face in the crowd.  Exhaling, you prepare yourself for the night to come and push the car open.

The music, likely booming from the basement, lilts through the air with jagged electricity, and it manages to translate into your veins with a faint tingle in your fingers.  You grin to yourself, already feeling the exhilaration to come.  Around the premises of the home a multitude of cars appear parked, which has you thanking your mind for avoiding the mess of it.  Multiple parked on the curbside, in the driveway, and also on the lawn.  The image of the destroyed grass and streaky soil has you cringing internally, for the remembrance of the hard work that likely went into the landscaping.  

The open, and partially wrecked, door frame is but a glance into the chaos that took place shortly after the sun laid itself to daily rest.  Broken electronics, a lamp, a shattered glass coffee table, and a bloody and unconscious stranger lying all in view.  Suddenly, you felt thankful for the thick and hard soles of your boots, and preyed your balance wouldn’t be giving out on you anytime soon.

As you draw closer you hear the music increase in volume, and can only imagine the ear-shattering havoc occurring just down the stairs.  A sudden shriek to your left rips you from your foot hitting the entryway of the door, instead whipping to a sudden figure being body slammed through what you assumed was the living room window.  You felt a wave of relief wash over you at the fact that this wasn’t your home, but a resounding ripple of pity for whoever actually owned the place.

You quickly stepped past and shuffled through the living room, leaving the unnamed duo to brawl, the more coherent shouting briefly as a greeting.  Quickly you found the kitchen, from the trail of empty and shredded beer cans, to the demolished and alarming amount of disposable cups, you snickered to yourself quietly.  The volume increased as you moved more into the building, most of the partygoers sticking to their own groups and remaining calm.  Wherever the violent action was, it was bound to be nearer to the actual band.

In the corner do you find one of the kegs, swiftly making yourself a drink and turning back to the face of a stranger.  Ebony hair, gel-slicked to perfection, deep brown eyes, and a teetering stance; he eyes you with curiosity and an underlying sense of something else.  You shift uncomfortably when he registers your attention on him.

“Y’from here?” he slurs, prodding your shoulder aggressively.

“Nope,” a bold-faced lie, coupled with nonchalant disinterest.  “You?”

“Nah, from, uh...Place a’ways from here,”  he gestures with both hands, drink-filled cup sloshing with the movement and liquid threatening to spill from the open top.  He leans down to your level.   “Where y’from, doll?”

“Don’t quite think I’ll share where I’m from with a guy who won’t even tell me his name before getting my address,” you cringe at the stench of beer heavy on his breath and lean back.

“Oh, uhhh...Name’s, fuckin’...Michael, y’can call me Mike, though,” a grin overtakes his features while your frown deepens.

“Alright, Mike, I’ll see’ya around,”  you attempt to shift around him, to shuffle out from the keg-corner only to be blocked.

“N’awww, c’mon?  I was polite, or whatever, ain’t’cha gonna tell me your name, dollface?”

“No, now let me through.”

“Or what, kitten?”

Outwardly you groan at the intrusion of your space, and also the blatant annoyance of him.  His turns nearly primal while the music gets louder, a crescendo you knew you would likely have trouble yelling over.

A thin, pale finger with several rings taps itself on his shoulder, from a form you were unable to see.  Michael turns around, aggravation apparent while he begins, “Can’t’cha see we’re busy h--”

He’s cut off by a jarring and strength-filled punch, falling awkward and stone-cold out on your shoulder and kegs.  You watch him fall, as though it happens in slow motion, eyes wide and nearly dropping your drink.  Upon turning your head you come eye-to-eye with someone who could put you in an even worse position and you feel a faint sliver of fear scurry up your spine.  Patrick Hockstetter.

“Kitten,” he starts, with a deadly vocal tone which could only be described as velvet draped over gravel.  You want to cringe.  “That your boyfriend or somethin’?”

“Ew, no,”  No gentle care is taken into shoving the unconscious boy’s body from yours and onto the matted, once shaggy carpeting.  “Just a fuckin’ creep who didn’t know where or when to stop.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes, momentary, and he grins to himself while grabbing something to drink.  It makes you uneasy, to see someone who knows everyone at your school.  Your arms cross as you move to leave, until his voice speaks over the music once again.

“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?”  It makes you realize just how close he’s managed to get to you, lips near your ear as though his presence engulfs you.  “Careful, princess, or you just might get devoured.”

“I--”  a short-lived stammer as he turns and throws an arm over your shoulders, causing you to tense.

“S’okay!  I’ll be but a chaperone so you aren’t found dead by sunrise.”

“Wait,” just barely croaked out, and obviously no hindrance as he begins dragging you from the corner and into the rest of the party.

He takes you down the stairs, a bouncy lack of care going into his lengthened strides and whether or not you were able to keep up.  You hold onto him, sliding an arm around his waist to try and keep balance while staring down at the floor to make sure you weren’t about to fall over.

At the bottom level is what managed to always ignite a feeling of excitement in you, set ablaze the adrenaline and flames of hardy teenage violence.  A mosh pit had formed and the destruction stopped just shy of the stairs.  In the air is the heavy scent of leather, sweat, and iron; all of which attacking with the force of animalistic glee.  The air feels heavy, like it’s weighing down on your shoulders.  Timidly, you steal a glance up at Patrick, who’s managed to get a lit cigarette betwixt his fingers and discard his drink in the time you’d been adhered to his side.  He takes a long drag and licks his lips, smoke emulating the carnage of a dragon, if you could compare him to such a beast.

He looks down at you and says something you’re unable to hear over the music, and had it not been for the sheer volume, you’d likely find it to be one of the more enjoyable acts to grace Derry with its presence.  His arm unwinds from around your shoulder and he plants a kiss on your forehead, to which has you reeling, before stepping into the pit and leaving you alone.

It feels unnerving, to suddenly be rid of the boy who’d claimed himself the role of your ‘evening security blanket,’ but to suddenly fear the repercussions.  Eyes you know are locked on opponents or the evening’s stand feel locked on you, and you feel socially naked at the foot of the basement’s stairs with both hands wrapped around a red solo cup.

You gulp after losing sight of him among the dim room and other black-haired aggressors, taking to maneuvering yourself to a couch sat beside a grandfather clock on the outskirts of the fighting and staring into the lukewarm cup.  Sips are taken from it, carefully, while a couple does what you can only describe as practically eating one another’s faces.

As time passes you begin to feel more cramped, not so much that eyes are on you any longer, but more so that the time to leave is rapidly approaching.  A brief glance at the clock registers it as 11:50 p.m., and you feel a slight pang in your gut that the time to move is now.  

You set the plastic cup on the coffee table in front of you and start off, without much of a care for who would be the poor soul to clean it up.  The stairs are ascended quickly, and alarms in your mind begin to go off fervently.  Wherever your evening’s chaperone had gone, he wasn’t worth getting potentially arrested for.  The kitchen and living room are passed briskly, and while the quick removal of such loud noises is nothing short of disorienting, the sound of approaching sirens is enough to sober you completely.

The yard is left in the dust as you take to a full-sprint down the street, mentally cursing yourself for even coming in the first place.  Wherever the authorities were, you knew that potentially crossing paths with them would be a death wish.

You only slow down and exhale when you’re in your car seat, key jammed in the ignition and letting the engine roar to life.  Speeding home probably wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you can’t help the lead foot and lady luck allowing you to swing into the driveway with no detection.

Is this true nirvana, you wonder, narrowly escaping the law after a gut feeling in a place you weren’t even meant to be?  Whatever the case, you knew sleep would either be impossible to grasp, or come the moment it hit your pillow.

[cagestark]

+WinterIronSpider//3+

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Story spurred by this prompt: There’s a meme about a poor college student being robbed; the robber, upon learning just h o w poor, stopping and giving the (empty) wallet back and being sincerely concerned. “You… you live like this?” What if the winter soldier/bucky barnes breaks into struggling college student Peter parker’s apt and all his pre-serum steve instincts are triggered by the state of the place and how /tiny/ Peter is.

This is short but it’s been a while, so I wanted to give it some new content. xo

Warnings: oral and anal sex. exhibitionism.

-

Peter sleeps, Tony drinks, and Bucky plans murder.

It won’t be a difficult thing. It would be worse if Rumlow lived in the apartment building—Bucky has already been seen there, his figure on film. Not to mention that scrubbing surveillance tapes is an extra step in the plan that he doesn’t dare believe he can afford. When he killed for Hydra, he had Hydra’s resources at his disposal. His face, his DNA, his fingerprints had all been lost to time. Even if his face was caught on camera, it meant nothing.

And if he had been caught? Well, he’d had nothing to live for.

Times have changed. He’d surrendered himself to the US government, forsworn his previous life of crime (and it really wasn’t that hard, once they understood that most of that crime took place under brainwashing and threat of torture). But now people are watching him, even if his pictures weren’t ever released to the public thanks to the high-profile nature of his crimes. The government watches him. Not to mention he has a very good reason for wanting to stay out of prison: namely, a five-foot-nine reason with exquisite, eccentric facial hair.

Rumlow’s address is easy enough to find. He could go to any public library and search for it, and if he has to use more advanced technology, he’s sure that he could get his hands on it. Bucky doubts the man is rich enough to have any security that might hinder him. A motion detector camera? Cake. Those home security systems? No problem. Not for the Winter—

“Bucky.”

Tony’s voice has Bucky jerking away from the window where he was resting his forehead, letting it cool his feverish skin. When he turns, he softens: Tony looks so good, so cozy in his pajamas, EDITH off and on the coffee table, his scotch glass empty. He won’t refill it either, just indulges in small amounts and only on occasion—

“Let’s talk reconnaissance,” says Bucky.

Tony’s eyebrows rise. “Reconnaissance?”

“No—you’re right. Let’s talk method. Anything that will make it like an accident is preferable, but outright murder isn’t so difficult to get away with either. I’ve got three different handguns that aren’t registered, it’s dealer’s choice really—”

“I’m sorry cupcake, you have what? Never mind, please don’t repeat it—FRI, shut down surveillance on this room for a bit and scrub your tapes from the last, oh, two hours.” Tony takes his hand, and the man’s hands are cold. Bucky knows the saying, cold hands, warm heart. Bucky’s own hands are warm. What does that mean for him, he wonders? “Bucky. James. Will you sit? Sit with me.”

They sit. Tony draws the larger man against him and Bucky sags into the intimacy, eyes shutting when tanned fingers card through his hair. His eyes are stinging. His jaw is clenched. Fuck, he is weak. Weak.

“Are you ready? Because I’ve got some tough love to dish out. Some downright poor news to give you.”

Bucky dips his vibranium forefinger into his ear. The other is pressed firmly to Tony’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he says, a little louder than he needs to. “I can’t hear you. I’ve gone deaf.”

Tony chuckles, a warm vibration that makes Bucky’s eyes slip closed.

“We can’t kill Rumlow, Bucky, you know that right? I need to hear you say that you know that.”

Bucky pulls away. He hunches forward, resting his elbows on his knees, letting one hand palm at his stringy, too-long hair. “I don’t know that. I’m supposed to say yes—but I don’t. Maybe I’m not reformed, Tony. Maybe I’m still just one bad day away from being who I was. But I think of someone hurting you or the kid like that and…I’d kill them. I’d do it. I wouldn’t feel bad about it, either.”

“That,” Tony says carefully. “Is something that you can absolutely admit. To me and maybe a license therapist that we have sign some waivers and come to the tower. But that’s not the way this world works.”

“It works for some people,” Bucky says. “Doing bad shit. It works for Rumlow, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” Tony asks. He wiggles his eyebrows. The man is so facially expressive, the polar opposite of Bucky who struggles to even make his mouth curl into a smile sometimes. “Or is he going to get a serious comeuppance, one that will land him in prison for many, many years?”

“You’ve got an idea,” says Bucky slowly.

“I’ve got twenty ideas, none of which involve murder. Okay, number twelve did. But I shelfed that one right away, because giving my enemies a lifetime of suffering is exactly how I sleep so well at night. Polar bear, I’m going to leave the murder-scene to you, because you have the brooding eyes and intimidating build for it—but let me teach you about my scene. The scene of a billionaire with many, many connections. I can ruin him socially, politically, financially—”

“I want to ruin his kneecaps,” Bucky mutters. “But I know you’re talking sense. Is it weird that I’m a little turned on hearing you talk about ruining a man?”

“Not at all,” Tony purrs. “I’d imagine you want me to ruin you too. Granted, in a very different way.”

“Wouldn’t mind ruining you tonight, actually,” says Bucky. Tony reaches down between his legs and massages at his soft cock, and the sight alone makes Bucky’s own jolt with arousal. His mouth waters, a reflexive action that has him swallowing, even as the sweatpants between Tony’s legs begin to tent. Lowly, Bucky says: “Don’t tease me old man. I’m in a dangerous mood, tonight.”

“I don’t know where to begin taking that statement apart,” Tony sighs, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. He dips a hand beneath the waistband of his sweats and works his cock in long, lazy strokes, barely hidden by the soft fabric. It’s more tantalizing than any lingerie Bucky’s ever seen, teasing, sensual, sexy. “First of all, old men in glass retirement homes shouldn’t throw stones, Mr. Born in 1918. Secondly—” Tony pulls his hand free, frowning. “We really shouldn’t be doing this out here. The kid is in the other room.”

That just makes Bucky’s cock harder. He hunches over himself more to conceal it. Yeah, a kid in his twenties is hardly a kid, but Bucky knows enough about modern society to wonder about the heads that would turn if he and Peter walked down the street together. Peter and Tony walking down the street together? That’s—that’s. “I don’t care if you don’t,” Bucky says.

“FRIDAY, alert us if Peter looks like he’s going to leave his room.”

Bucky slides down off of the couch and maneuvers his way between Tony’s legs. As expressive as his lover is, Tony is very practiced at maintaining his calm exterior when it comes to sex. Bucky considers it a game to see how quickly he can reduce Tony to unabashed, selfish ecstasy. Judging by the way his chest rises and falls with more speed than usual, not to mention how he turns his head and cranes his neck to glance at the door Peter disappeared through as if to make sure the kid wasn’t standing there watching—this exhibition bit is affecting Tony as much as it is Bucky.

Bucky leans forward and mouths at Tony’s cock through the fabric of his sweatpants. Tony’s cock is a thing of wonder, not as long or thick as his own, but above average (especially for a man of his height). The fabric grows dark beneath Bucky’s mouth as he licks at the twitching erection, mapping it out with his lips to find where the head is and lather his tongue over it.

“Jesus, look at you,” Tony murmurs. He is the picture of relaxation, reclined back against the couch cushions, arms spread. “You’re filthy. I love it. You’re going to take me apart tonight, Buck? Bring it on, because—”

Tony’s words melt into a high gasp when Bucky opens his mouth and drags his teeth across his clothed erection. Desperate to finally feel the burning heat and heft of the cock in his mouth, Bucky coaxes Tony’s hips up so that he can jerk down his sweatpants. He would have torn them off altogether if Tony might not need to pull them up in the event Peter makes a midnight trip for a glass of water.

“No talking,” Bucky says, holding Tony’s cock still while he uses his tongue to wet the head and tease the ridge of it where the man is most sensitive. When Tony reaches up to his own mouth and pretends to zip it shut, he takes his lover’s cock deep into his mouth giving a few shallow strokes to slick it before he breathes deep, relaxes his throat, and lets it slip down the back. Tony’s hips jerk up reflexively, one hand coming off of the couch to grab at Bucky’s hair. He doesn’t say anything, but when Bucky glances up, he can see the torture on Tony’s face. The man is a chatterbox even during sex—but tonight, Bucky wants to focus.

The serum has left him with an indecent ability to hold his breath for inordinate amounts of time. It comes in handy now, when he fucks Tony’s cock with his mouth, letting the back of his throat clench around the sensitive head. It doesn’t give him much in the ways of oxygen, but when he needs a breath, he simply pulls off to tongue at the slit. Deepthroating doesn’t give him the satisfaction of tasting Tony’s cum, and he finds himself hungry for it, growling low in the back of his throat.

“Gonna cum,” Tony admits after several long minutes, pressing his lips shut tightly afterwards. Bucky could tell that he was, a hand cradling the man’s balls as they grow stiffer and tighter, drawing up closer to his body. He appreciates the warning, draws back so that when Tony cums, it’s in his mouth and not down his throat. Tony’s orgasm is silent except for the close-mouthed groan he give, the stuttering breaths as one hand nearly pulls Bucky’s hair clear from the roots and the other scrabbles at the leather sofa.

“Fuck, I love you,” Tony pants.

“Show me,” Bucky says through his teeth. “Roll over. Now.”

Tony is rolling before Bucky even finishes the sentence. With his metal hand (still gloved), Bucky pushes the glass coffee table back, back to give them room where Tony kneels, knees on the floor, chest against the seat of the couch. His back is arched beautifully, tanned skin dotted with the occasional scar. His ass is a thing of art—Bucky spits on his fingers and reaches down to find Tony’s hole. The man is still relaxed from their lovemaking that morning, but that doesn’t stop Bucky from fingerfucking him with glee, hearing him stifle his oversensitive noises into the couch cushion. His own cock is aching, the head purple by the time he draws it out from his pants.

“Relax,” Bucky mutters, planting a hand between Tony’s shoulders. He sees one of the man’s fists turn into a gentle thumbs up and tries not to snort—it might take them out of the mood. Reaching down, he uses the head of his cock to search and then press into Tony in one long, slow movement. He grits his teeth, hesitating when he’s balls deep, thighs pressed against the backs of Tony’s. It never gets old: the heat, the slick tightness, the way every squirm of Tony’s tightens the muscles in his ass and squeezes Bucky’s cock.

Bucky presses his hand down harder, encouraging Tony to keep still. The muscles clench again—Tony fucking loves when Bucky is in charge and showing his enhanced strength. So Bucky reaches out and runs his palms, one flesh and one gloved, along Tony’s arms until he reaches the strong wrists. He pulls them back, twists them until they are crossed at the small of the man’s back. Tony moans into the couch cushion.

He can’t hold out anymore. Bucky pulls himself free until just the head is buried in his lover and then sinks back in, groaning at the relief the friction provides him. He’s not going to last long, not as long as Tony had by far, not when he’s greeted with the sight of the trim curve of Tony’s waist, exaggerated by the position. Not when Tony’s ass squeezes his clock like the most sinful glove.

Suddenly, a voice is speaking quietly overhead. FRIDAY. “Peter has left his bed.”

Tony’s back arches with the force of his gasp, head turning to show wild, panicked brown eyes—but Bucky can’t stop, not when he’s so close, not when all he needs are a few more thrusts. Whatever is written on his face must express that because Tony whines high in his throat, chest dropping back onto the couch heavily. He clenches his muscles and Bucky hisses, the pressure on his cock borderline painful. Only another second or two has passed, but he imagines that he can hear Peter’s footsteps, and that is what drives him over the edge. Clenching his teeth together to keep from crying out, Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut as he pumps load after load into Tony’s tight ass.

“Peter appears to be exiting his room—” FRIDAY warns.

Bucky’s cock is still twitching when he slips it free of Tony and shoves it back into his jeans. He takes care of Tony first, helping to pull up the man’s sweat pants and then zip and button his own. They can hear the click of the doorknob turning just as they are standing.

Peter blinks at the light in the main room, squinting a little. Tony shifts, breathing heavy. Bucky wonders if cum is running down his legs, and his cock twitches. When Peter sees them both there, he blushes prettily, his curls mussed as if he’s tried to sleep.

“Sorry,” Peter croaks. “I was just going to get a glass so I could drink some water from the tap.”

“I have sparkling,” Tony says. He claps Bucky on the shoulder, hard. “Bucky will be more than glad to show it to you—”

Peter’s face flushes even more and then—oh no—he glances downward, no chance he will miss the way that Bucky is still half-hard, and under the kid’s soft brown eyes Bucky feels himself becoming interested again, God, this is a nightmare. The kid’s eyes just as quickly flick over to Tony’s groin but then they stop, brows furrowing and then climbing upwards.

Bucky glances quickly for himself, and his own eyes grow twice their size. The groin of Tony’s sweatpants is still wet and dark with Bucky’s saliva from where he fellated the man through the fabric. It’s not soaked by any means, but questionable at best.

“There’s an explanation for that,” Tony says, sounding very much like he’s going to give the most reasonable excuse any of them have ever heard. Bucky himself is preparing to be surprised, but then—

“He’s incontinent,” Bucky blurts.

“No—” Tony says, clapping him on the back. “Points for trying, honey, but I am not—"

“I, it’s okay, it’s not my business—I just, you know what? There’s a faucet in the bathroom, sorry, I’ll just—”

Peter disappears into his room. The last glimpse they get is of Peter’s red face, one wide brown eyes staring through the crack in the door before it shuts quietly.

Tony reaches out and gently slaps Bucky upside the head. “Incontinent?” he hisses. “How old do you think I fucking am, Buck?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind, okay?”

“What is it with you and this kid?” Tony asks. He’s the only man who can sound so quizzical and collected with cum dripping down his legs. “He gets you so flustered, like I’ve never seen you. Give me the scoop—I don’t think he’ll be showing his face out here again tonight. Go on, start from the beginning, and tell me everything. We’re in this together now.”

So, after Tony returns from the restroom, Bucky does. Because he believes Tony, he trusts Tony when the man says that they’re in it together, and he knows that there’s (probably) nothing he could say that would make the man love him any less. Tony’s face is expressive, a Shakespearean drama playing out all his features, a cocktail of tragedy and affection and exasperation and concern all at once. By the time it ends, both of their erections are gone, and the man looks like he’s aged ten years in ten minutes.

“I keep thinking about Steve,” Bucky says at length. His head rests in Tony’s lap, staring up at the goatee he’s become so fond of. “I think about him every day, which still isn’t as often as I should. ‘ve been wondering if he’d be proud of the kind of man I am now. It makes me feel like shit.”

“He’d be proud,” Tony says, carding thick fingers through Bucky’s hair. He lets his calloused thumb drift over the plain of Bucky’s forehead to rub at the furrow between his eyes, snorting when Bucky raises and lowers his eyebrows. “It’s not easy, starting from scratch the way you have.”

“Steve did it.”

“He made some amazing mistakes, too, if you remember the tales correctly.”

Bucky turns onto his side and buries his face in the soft fabric of Tony’s shirt. “I just feel like this is what he would want me to do. All day I struggle to decide what the right choice is, and half the time I have no idea what I’m doing. But when I saw him, I knew I had to help, and I knew in my heart it was right. Does that make sense?”

Tony hums. “You’d be surprised.”

[clareisa]

Seventeen/Vocal Unit as DEMIGODS

♠ - greek demigods AU

♠ -  English is not my first language, so please, excuse my mistakes

♠ - hip-hop unit / performance unit / vocal unit

Jeonghan:

Son of Aphrodite, Goddess of beauty, love and desire

popular like Aphrodite’s child can be, he knows that very well and sometimes using it to his advantage

no matter who it is, when Jeonghan smile their direction no demigod can’t stop blush appearing and feel memorable tingling in the lower tummy

appearing shy at first, because he is conscious of his surroundings, but is quite social and knows how to have fun

master of relationship advice for anyone that comes to him... somehow he just knows what is the best

likes to gossiping around about who is with who and doing what, he is telling that he just like what is going in his surroundings

loves to admiring his work when someone that asked for his advice confessed successfully or resolved a problem in a relationship 

another of his hobbies is flirting with any breathing and living creature in the camp and making them flustered

sometimes he is doing it when he needs something, sometimes for boosting his ego and sometimes to just make them smile and brighten up their day

his speciality is growing beautiful roses that will be blooming as long as love is present between the person who gave the rose and person who received it as a gift 

not a really competitive demigod, not so hard on him with training with weapons and such 

he rather has his “beauty sleep” any time of the day he likes to... well you can’t argue cuz it, obviously, doing its job 

has different likings and preferences like most of his siblings in regards to friends who never liked to be near demigods that represented something dark, evil or simply different 

he changed his mind when once Joshua, son on Hades, helped him when no other could and since then they are best friends

became fascinated by “dark” demigods and their mystical aura 

came to a camp in his middle teens and it didn’t take a long time for his mother to claim him as his son even with some misunderstandings 

he was really beautiful but thanks to his extensive love to sleep children of Hypnos were almost sure he belongs with them

sometimes savage with his pranks but everyone loves good prank by him especially towards fierce children of Ares

friendly and talkative but loyal only to his inner circle

loves to see others happy but secretly desperate for someone loving him and not just because of his beauty 

Joshua:

Son of Hades, God of underworld, death and wealth

the polar opposite of what a lot of demigods and other creatures in the camp thinking of him because of his origin, his father

his eyes are so pitch black that when someone scared or disgusted by him would look into them for a long time, they will see their worst fears

people might think he is cold-hearted but is as gentle as a man can be with the flawless soul

good with money and knows well how to earn them, has a really good expensive taste

no matter if someone is scared of him or not, every demigod come to him or one of his few siblings if someone close to them dies

they want to know if their soul safely went to the other side, maybe hearing some last words from them 

most of them after such an experience stops being scared of him and begins to act kindly to him 

owns three black Canis Panther dogs which are always by his side, they are sibling and he saved them from the street when they were puppies

with Joshua not knowing that it was his dad sending them so the dogs will keep him company and protect him

he is talented at brewing potions of any kind

one of his hobbies and talents it’s actually making beautiful jewellery with beautiful gems and precious metals that are sometimes enchanted by his friend Wonwoo 

those who are still stereotyping him telling about him that “the devil is and always will be a gentleman”, suggesting that even tho he acts kind he is still evil inside

this always made Joshua feel heartbroken and made him a lonely and bitter demigod, but after meeting Jeonghan and Vernon he started believed in friendship again and opened up to more people gaining amazing friends

has soft spot for children of Persephone, they are always so charming and mysterious... he probably has this from his father 

came to the camp when he turned twenty already being a successful businessman making it easier for his dad to mark him 

it did take some time but after blooming flowers dying when he walked by it was incontestable who is his godly parent 

started to carrying more about the world around him after he came to the camp so it’s now a regular guest at Athena’s cabin being their sincere listener 

the brightest person around his best friends and willing to give out a life for them

from time to time he is staring lovingly at the moon, imagining that one day someone will love him dearly despite his dark origin and always cold hands

Woozi:

Son of Athena, Goddess of wisdom, battle strategy and crafts

a beloved demigod in the camp and prominent part of his mother’s cabin being quick-witted and very perceptive

every living being in the camp can’t help themselves and just love and adore him for his captivating charms and intelligence

seems shy and blunt, but he has deep feelings, and when he becomes close to someone, such a relationship will be for eternity 

the best demigod to go to when you need some advice... but only if you crave logical and rational solutions ... he is not emotionless, he just like clear answers 

loves to relax by walking around reading a book or play on piano along with Apollo’s children 

thanks to his origin Woozi is easily learning new languages and not just the human ones 

other demigods often get confused when they see him happily talking to  all kind of magical creatures around the grounds of the camp

cheerfully and happily teaching all those who ask for his help... either academic stuff or strategy for their battles in the arena

he doesn’t want to call it divination, more like an instinct, when he can predict opponents moves in battle 

he is interested in sculpture and pottery a lot, creating beautiful and useful pieces of pottery for other cabins 

famous scolder of kids of Poseidon and Dionysus, mainly Mingyu and Soonyoung, for being too reckless and risking hurting others or violating the rules

he would like them to study more and not just fighting to blood or running around usually getting lost 

caretaker of the camp library... he secretly put all the books he wrote to the front shelves because they are just so good

came to the camp at a very young age being too intelligent for his own good

his mother claiming him as her son was the reason he even went ... seeing his extra-ordinary talents was more than enough

one of the only one that can defeat children of Nike in battle or intelligence tests

very protective about his friends and siblings in any occasion, even the smallest one

wishes to meet someone that will make him think with his heart rather than his head... when that will happen he will know that person is the one

DK:

Son of Demeter, Goddess of agriculture, harvest and seasons

known as the happy, cheerful and energetic demigod that cares for everyone and everything around him

smiling at everyone, greeting them or complimenting, charging them with some kind of positive energy only him and his siblings can give

noisy at a first impression and that is how actually he is all the time... always talking or singing, he just loves to communicate 

he is an expert at making people laugh and feel better, any time he sees or sense someone is down he immediately wants to help

often offering the delicious fresh juice or fruits he is growing in Demeter’s gardens because he believes something delicious can change your mood for better

one of few children of Demeter that can understand to the language of animals 

it is helpful not just to him but his siblings and whole camp as well since animals around plays a big role in a life cycle 

often gets weird stares when he is walking around since almost all the time he has birds sitting on his shoulder or squirrels holding on on his arm

his speciality is honey made by his magical bees... this honey added to any tea can heal the sickness or give you the energy you need 

he is quite competitive in training and fights in the arena but often forgets to even arrive since he is so deep into nourishing his precious gardens

he can use any plant as a weapon by making them grow fastly and controlling their movements 

but such enchanted plants won't be able to grow some harvest to eat 

often inviting son of Apollo and Zeus, Seungcheol and Vernon, to his gardens to hanging out

yes they are his friends but having two demigods controlling powers thanks to which his gardens grow is very convenient 

he came to the camp in his middle teens when actually some of his siblings spotted him talking with animals

it took quite a long time to Demeter to claim him as her son since he wasn’t very good with growing any kind of plant

when he is the happiest any fruit or herb will turn gold in his arms, making the taste of it heavenly and after eating it you can last without food for weeks

only trust his best friends and some of his siblings but he is opened and willing to help anyone

dreaming about someone that will come to his life and will be taking care of him and his heart like he is doing it with his precious gardens

Seungkwan:

Son of Nike, Goddess of victory, speed and strength

one of the most lively demigods in the camp, running around with energy almost coming out from him to space

has sensitive and emotional personality and sometimes takes unnecessary things too much to his heart

appearing as very active and full of life and that is exactly how he is, he is naturally giving people hope with just his existence

the best demigod to go to when you are down and you need to level up your self-esteem, he can boost your mental strength well

loves company but his way to relax is just walks along the lake, forest, just nature in general when he can only hear himself and the beautiful silence

after months he finally became one of the best fighters in the camp and is now representing his mother’s name by winning 

some demigods like children of Ares or Nemesis are often accusing Nike’s cabin that they are winning just cuz of the magic

but Seungkwan knows the true powers of his mother aren’t in winning without anything, but in the determination in him and other siblings 

thanks to that they are never tired of trying the same thing over and over until they’ll win

has wings growing from his back like his siblings but his and just a couple of others wings’ feathers are made from pure gold

he loves to spend time in stables, taking care of his favourite creatures ever... pegasuses

his favourite times in camp is when after wild thunderstorm made by Zeus cabin, children of Iris creates beautiful rainbows he loves so much flying throught

went flying with Vernon once since he wanted to see how his friend’s wings can actually bring a thunderstorm

but thanks to his wings being so close to Vernon’s, the raindrops turned gold

one of the newest campers came just a couple of months ago

his mother claimed him quickly since as soon as he came to the camp his wings started showing... which freaked him a lot 

the best in chariot races and it is just because the horses like him the best

is ready to fight for anyone that is standing on the good side

waiting for someone who will break his stereotype and finally, win his heart over