#build that boy sturdy as shit!!

[wazzappp]

i LOVE your body horror/biology jaime designs so much. question about how you think khaji's healing factor works - does it have any interesting ways of dealing with head trauma? it's never seemed to be a problem for jaime, but comics tend not to address that getting your head smacked into things is bad even with armor, so idk if you have any thoughts. is khaji doing something fucked up in there or is it just comic logic.

Hello!! Im so glad you're enjoying my art and my ideas <3.

I have a general idea about Jaime's enhanced healing which you might have already seen here, but I don't really have anything specific for head trauma.

The comics don't have much explanation in terms of healing, but there is a bit with prevention of head trauma I guess. In Rebirth (one of the few good things about it) Khaji mutates Jaime's skeleton. Not much more detail is given about it, but my personal head cannon is some kind of carbon fiber coating. Its lightweight, sturdy (5 times stronger than steel!), and isn't toxic inside the body (we already use it to make stuff like hip replacements)!

They would have to work around the release and production of new red blood cells, maybe interweaving with the network of capillaries, but it could work! Carbon fiber is already similar to a woven texture. It shouldn't be too hard to weave in a few blood vessels (<- that sounds. so much more fucked up when I put it down on paper.)

It wouldn't necessarily help with healing but hey, prevention can be better than a cure!

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒

summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in a magical all-boys school doesn't make it any better; luckily, your boyfriend is here to help

pairings: leona :: jade :: jamil x gn!reader

warnings: period comfort; mentions of periods and different symptoms (but gn pronouns), mentions of reader having hair in jade's part

twisted wonderland masterlist || similar writing: bloody hell [obey me]

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑

It was decidedly too early for this.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through the hallways, head down to keep from making eye contact with the beastmen staring at you as you passed them. After tossing and turning all night, kept from finding sleep by painful cramps, being ogled at by students at an all boys school that could smell the blood on you was the last thing you needed.

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to avoid this. When you had realised the predicament you would inevitably find yourself in, you had downright begged Crowley to let you stay at Ramshackle. After all, a certain Ignihyde dorm leader also never attended class in person. But, really, you should have known better. As if the headmage would let his number one therapist stay home for a few days each month or as he put it, he 'couldn’t rob a precious student like yourself of the opportunity to learn'.

At least Sam was an actual help and had magically procured just the stuff you needed.

So, with heavy eyes and burning cheeks you speed walked towards your first class of the day, dodging students at the last second on more than one occasion until you eventually ran straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up briefly to apologise, you blinked at the familiar emerald eyes sizing you up.

“Leona! What are you doing here?” Most people’s first reaction to seeing their boyfriend would probably not be bewilderment, but running into your boyfriend inside the school during class hours was as likely as Ace making it through a week without being collared by his housewarden.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing,” the lion drawled, ears flicking to help convey the incredulousness painted on his face. “So, what do you think you’re doing?”

As imposing as he was with his athletic build and the unimpressed expression, causing the students around you to serve around the two of you, you weren’t affected at all, used to his grumpy exterior.

“Uhm, going to class?” You deadpanned, putting your hand on your hip to mirror his stance. “Unlike someone else I know.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Leona stated matter of factly.

“Excuse you?” When he tried pulling you along by your arm, away from the direction of your classroom, you dug your heels into the ground. “I hate to sound like a broken record but what are you doing, Leona?”

“Making you get some rest, obviously.” You couldn’t see it from where you stood but you could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes. 

“Listen I can’t just skip class, I talked to the headmage–”

“Crowley can solve his own problems for a day,” his voice rumbled low in his throat, almost sounding like a growl, “you know, like an actual adult. And don’t try to play dumb with me herbivore, it’s not a good look on you. I know you sleep like shit when you get your period and I also know that the people around you don’t take your health into account when they get up to some stupid idea.”

“Yeah but-”

You saw the annoyed flick of his tail before he turned around and braced his hands on your shoulders without ever applying any pressure. By now the last bell had rang and the corridor was deserted, leaving you to be the only people standing in the early morning light.

“Don’t give me this self-sacrificial nonsense,” Leona said, words harsh but you knew him well enough to read the protective feeling behind them. “We both know you need to rest. What good would it really do you to go to class in this state?”

As if to agree with him, a nasty cramp pulled at your lower stomach and the ill suppressed grimace on your face must have been all too apparent to your boyfriend. Giving your arm another light tug, Leona coaxed you towards the Hall of Mirrors again with a tempting ‘C’mon’ and this time you let him pull you along willingly, even handing him your backpack when he reached out for it.

Sometimes, it was hard to forget the kind of culture Leona grew up in, one where women held a high position of power in general, so really you shouldn’t be surprised by how… normal he was about all of this. Part of that was probably also because it was a very gentlemanly excuse to skip class in favour of a nap, if you were honest.

“If you’re that worried about missing class, Jack can give you his notes.” His offhand comment made you snort. Of course, he would offer someone else’s service to you before anything else.

“Or my third-year boyfriend could tutor me,” you teased, a playful lilt swinging in your voice.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the lion shrugged. “Weren’t you just on my case about my attendance record?”

“Because the first-year curriculum is just too hard for someone who can turn an entire stadium into dust,” you jabbed.

“You’re yapping a lot for someone who’s this tired,” Leona grumbled, a large palm pushing your head down, careful not to hurt you. With a giggle you decided to drop the topic. 

Crossing the Hall of Mirrors and stepping through the Savanclaw portal, you were greeted by the  warm breeze of dry air typical for the dorm’s daytime. After the trek through the savanna past the spring in the common room and across the wooden bridges, you reached Leona’s room and you could already feel the tension seep from your body as you stepped into its comfortable familiarity. 

When you unbuttoned your uniform’s blazer, you caught a glimpse of your stomach through your shirt, slightly extended further than usual due to the bloating. And rationally you knew it was a normal bodily reaction to your period but paired with the new bumps on your face and general exhaustion, logic wasn’t quite enough to calm your mind.

The clothes being plopped down on your head, however, certainly did rip you from your thoughts. Lifting the ends of the black material covering your eyes you threw your boyfriend a questioning glare.

“I can tell you’re thinking something stupid,” Leona offered as an explanation. “Just get changed and come to bed.”

Huffing under your breath, you stepped into his ensuite bathroom to do as he said, pulling on your boyfriend’s shirt and sweatpants. While you didn’t feel like agreeing with him quite yet, you had to admit, royal loungewear was a league of its own in comfort. And probably in price.

When you emerged, Leona had just tossed his phone on the nightstand before devoting all his attention to you. The ears on his head flicked as his gaze wandered from your head to toe and back up, a grin tugging at his lips and an appreciative glint in his green eyes. 

Then, the second you came within reach, he’d already wrapped you in his strong arms and pulled you into bed with him, not without a surprised squeal from you. You could feel his deep chuckle as much as you heard it with your head resting on his chest and resigned yourself to merely sighing fondly. 

With two firm hands stroking up and down the length of your back purposefully, their warmth spreading through your body, and his chest rising rhythmically underneath you, you finally allowed yourself to relax as you traced random patterns onto his biceps and pectorals and followed the movement with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You weren’t seriously looking down on yourself earlier, were you?” Leona mumbled, a serious care in his words he didn’t offer many people. 

“Well, you can’t really help it when your body goes through this many changes, can you?” you drowsily replied, your eyes already falling closed with no conscious work of your own. “Besides, periods are not the time you feel generally great about yourself.”

“No matter how you might see yourself, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second that I like you the way you are.” At his heartfelt confession, you peeked one eye open to study his expression.

“You can be quite the romantic if you want to huh?” You meekly chuckled, not able to help yourself.

“Go to sleep, herbivore, you’re talking crazy.” Even as he put one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you cradled against him, you didn’t miss how his ears flicked or the fondness with which he looked down on you.

“Alright, alright. I appreciate it though, really.” With a big yawn you shifted to get comfortable, your cramps far from your mind as you sunk into your boyfriend’s natural warmth. “Love you.”

By the time you’d wake up, Ruggie would have dropped off lunch along with some other essential items. But for now, Leona was content to watch as your breath evened out and your chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his own, careful not to disturb you when he draped a soft blanket over you. With the rising sun peeking through the arches of his room, he truthfully answered you in a whisper. 

“Love you, too.”

𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇

Once Jade had taken an interest in you, he would seemingly appear out of thin air in your general vicinity a lot more often than it was usual to run into a fellow student. On your way to the school store, in line at the cafeteria or when you were carrying supplies for Professor Crewel, the moray would coincidentally round a corner to lend a hand.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that, as his courting became more serious and you had become aware of what was going on, even reciprocating the sentiment, you found the sophomore waiting for you before your classes started. Your time table was well-memorised so he could greet you with a serene smile each day and walk you to your first class of the morning.

Now, as a moray eel with naturally sharp senses, it was somewhat inevitable he’d pick up on the scent of blood once your period rolled around. In contrast to beastmen who were mostly mammals in their anatomy, however, the Octatrio did not grow up on land and periods weren’t exactly a thing for merfolk. Moreover, seeing as they had only been on land for roughly two years and were attending an all-boys school, it was not a phenomenon they were likely to run into.

So, having his dear pearl approach one morning, the smell of iron heavy in the air, paired with their already soured mood and his lack of knowledge on the societal stigma around the topic, misunderstandings were bound to happen.

“I really don’t think it wise to attend class in your state,” the moray had stated after greeting you, an eyebrow raised at your stubbornness to continue with your day even at what, in his mind, must have been a grave injury. 

“I’m fine, Jade, I just want to get this day over with,” you had groaned, trying to push past the tall student and drop the topic, embarrassed enough that a sizable chunk of the student body would be aware of your predicament in the first place.

But who would he be to let a person he actually cared about go on their way with a bleeding wound? 

“Prefect, I must insist you seek medical aid immediately.” You remembered the uncharacteristically genuine furrow of his brows as he had blocked your path. “Please, go to the school nurse or at least let me tend to your needs. I’m certain I could be of help if you share your problem with me.”

“If you want to hear me say it so desperately,” you had huffed, “I’m on my period. Happy now?”

“Your period?” Jade had echoed with wide eyes, unknowingly speeding up the burning of your shortened fuse with his lack of knowledge. “Yes, I’m aware we are to attend class but I fail to see–”

“Very funny,” you had deadpanned, pushing past him with a cold shoulder and leaving the moray to his own confusion. “Now if you excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and humour your feigned ignorance today.”

Yes it wasn’t your proudest moment, you’d admit that. And when Jade approached you later that day with a genuine apology, explaining how he had researched the topic and was deeply ashamed of his uninformed remarks, you felt like the worst person on the planet and apologised more than he had. So in the end, you came to an apology truce, where you noted he shouldn’t have prodded further when you didn’t want to talk about it and you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did.

Since the incident, however, Jade had been a dream to have around. Not to fall short again, he had done a fair amount of research, both on the biological aspect of what was happening to your body but also on the lived experience and its numerous complications. Then, doing what he did best, he observed your reactions, moods and symptoms to better cater to you specifically.

Every month he put both his cooking and alchemy skills to good use, whipping up whatever meal you desired and brewing a painkilling potion with just the right dosage for your current situation. Being Jade Leech, he could also assert his presence in any given situation with as little as a simple glare if you did not want to be bothered.

Your favourite part of the comfortable rhythm you two had fallen in, however, were the evenings where Grim was otherwise engaged and you had Ramshackle to yourselves. On those nights, soft music and fond laughter would mix with hushed whispers spilling from under your bathroom door.

A few months prior, Azul and Jade had sat down for a ‘pleasant chat’ with the Headmaster concerning the state of Ramshackle dorm and soon thereafter, funding had been provided to remodel vital parts of the dorm. No more caved-in roofs or stairs giving away under people’s shoes. Together with the money from the VDC, the old house had finally started feeling like an actual home; one you felt welcome and comfortable in.

It also meant you finally trusted your new bathtub enough to sit in it and actually also relax without any anxieties of whatever you could possibly contract from the exposure. 

With his natural fondness of water, it hadn’t taken long for Jade to propose the idea of shared baths and you hadn’t regretted your decision to agree since. It wasn’t like he gave you any reason to either; it was the opposite, really. It didn’t take the moray long at all to figure out the perfect temperature or what fragrance you preferred, if any. 

He also never made you feel inadequate or like you had to be ashamed of yourself, even when your body went through change throughout your cycle. Your skin tingled from his featherlight touches where his fingers traced your curves, never hiding the fact that he appreciated what he saw but always pairing it with a reverence that made you feel loved and desired, rather than ogled at. So when you sank into the water after him, cosying into his space to lean back against his chest, it was like sinking into a warm, secure embrace.

The water helped soothe your aches and washed away the tension which had built over the day and the easily flowing conversation with Jade let you focus on anything other than the thoughts in your mind, listening to his rich voice rather than the doubts trying to crawl to the surface.

When his hands massaged the shampoo into your hair, you always teetered on the edge of falling asleep right then and there. The atmosphere paired with his skilled fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as his nails gently scraped over your scalp banished any headaches you could have had and had you practically melting against him, a sight that tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. But to see you put so much trust in him, someone who wasn’t exactly known for his benevolence, it stirred something fond in his heart and it made him want to work harder so you would keep showing him this blissful expression.

After scrubbing your bodies down, paying special attention to any sore spots, he helped you out of the tub, never failing to comment on how wrinkly your hands had gotten in comparison to his, which didn’t seem to be affected by the water exposure at all. Wrapping you up in a fluffy black towel he claimed was from Octavinelle -though you were fairly certain you’d only ever seen pale lilac ones there- he padded you dry and helped you into your clothes, mindful of the routines and products you had shown him previously. 

Needless to say, you felt like a new person each time without fail as you lay snuggled up with your boyfriend in bed later on, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart. 

“Thank you so much for always doing this much for me, Jade,” you said, earnest gratitude and unspoken adoration lining your voice. “I’m really lucky to be with you, huh?”

“On the contrary, I am the one luck seems to favour seeing how you chose to be with me,” he chuckled and you didn’t miss how his strong arms pulled you closer against him even if it wasn’t physically possible. He’d be damned if he didn’t try. “And you needn’t feel conflicted about receiving my affection. Just know I enjoy doing these things for you and with you, pearl.” 

“I stand by my earlier statement,” you smiled, making him laugh along with you. Looking into his heterochromic eyes, you traced the contours of his face with the same delicacy he showed you earlier. “Is it selfish to say that I feel happy about having this side of you all to myself?”

“Not at all. It is reserved for you only, dearest.” His gaze was heavy on yours as he loosely curled his fingers around your wrist and pressed a searing kiss against your palm. “After all, I do not intend to share this side of you with anyone else either.”

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑

There have certainly been times where Jamil lamented having to basically babysit his dorm leader. Well, pretty much all the time. But being unable to stay by your side while you were hurting was generally one of the most annoying parts of his duties to him, especially with the daily workload of being a student on top of it all. 

Jamil being Jamil, however, he soon worked out a schedule consistent enough to let him visit you somewhat frequently. 

You were lying on one of Ramshackle’s rickety couches, nursing your lower stomach with a -at this point already lukewarm- water bottle, when a familiar knocking pattern brought a smile to your face.

“Come in! It’s open,” you shouted across the hall, adding your sarcastic comment under your breath in order not to worry your boyfriend more than he already was. “Not like the lock’s ever doing its job in this place.”

“Hm? Did you say something?” Jamil made his way straight over to where you were sitting, his footsteps quieting down as he reached the carpeted floor.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling up at him as he leant over the back of the couch. Ignoring his raised eyebrow, you reached up, so you could cradle his cheek as you sat up to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Seemingly appeased, your boyfriend mirrored your fond expression, tracing your face with his grey gaze while his hands moved to your shoulders, deft fingers working out any tension you might be having. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better now that you’re here,” you laughed, though it wasn’t merely a sappy joke, as indicated by Jamil’s scoff behind you. “I mean it though. I’ve been feeling a lot better since I’ve been receiving your royal treatment.”

“It’s nothing that fancy,” Jamil assured, his eyes softening at the way you melted into his touch. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“I know you don’t think much of it but I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to look after me when I’m not even facing anything out of the ordinary,” you sighed, rehashing points you had raised in vain before.

“Oh hush,” your boyfriend playfully shushed you the way he had also done many times already when the topic came up. “Compared to what I usually deal with, this is like taking a vacation, especially since I get to spend time with you. Now speaking of my normal chores, I brought some leftover food.”

“Have I told you that I love you?” You swooned, causing both of you to laugh as Jamil headed over to your kitchen, one he was already familiar with. Not only because he often came over for some much needed peace and quiet but because Kalim was literally the reason you had it in the first place. A relationship-warming-gift of sorts for a relationship that wasn’t even his.

Besides, ever since courting and dating you, Jamil’s measuring skills when it came to meal prep seemed to have worsened because -coincidentally- he’d ended up with too much food and subsequent leftovers so often, you wondered why you even stocked your own fridge anymore.

What you had also noticed though was that, whenever you were on your period -something he seemed to track himself-, the food he brought over was a lot less spicy than usual and rather light. Something someone prone to a sensitive stomach, nausea, reduced appetite or a disturbed metabolism could still comfortably eat. 

The phenomenon of suddenly appearing sticky notes had also made itself known, labelling new containers in your fridge, medication on the counter or your coffee machine with reminders like ‘Remember caffeine makes your cramps worse’ written on it in neat handwriting. 

One or the other bar of dark chocolate and some of your favourite snacks had mysteriously found their way into your bags or onto a bowl in your kitchen as well though, making you smile at Jamil’s thoughtfulness when you caught a peek of them. 

During the day, whenever his schedule allowed it, he’d also drop by to check in on you between classes or during lunch, something Kalim wholeheartedly supported. Normally, Jamil refused all of Kalim’s offers to take a break from his duty but when you were feeling under the weather, he took the white-haired student up on it when no imminent disaster was on the horizon waiting to happen.

When your plate was empty and made its trip to the sink, Jamil refilled your hot water bottle but unlike you earlier, he waved his magic pen over it, which you had realised significantly expanded the time in which the water actually stayed hot.

“Thank you,” you said for possibly the millionth time as you took the bottle from him, then gave him a mischievous grin. “You know what would make me feel soo much better though?”

At the tilt of his head, you scooted over to make space between you and the back of the couch. Getting the hint, Jamil settled in behind you and you got comfy again with your back to his chest. This too had become somewhat of a ritual of yours, one that wasn’t limited to while you were suffering from cramps. 

After all the chore-y part of the late afternoon was taken care of, you liked to spend the evening snuggled up on your couch with the TV playing some show you liked to watch together, read: a show which you started and dragged Jamil into. Well, every now and then your boyfriend also made sure you didn’t fall behind on your studies, though he was more lenient when you were on your period.

“This is nice,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy now that you had eaten and were surrounded by warmth and your loving boyfriend, whose hands stroked along your sides in a soothing, continuous motion, his chest vibrating underneath you with his affirming hum. 

“I could stay like that forever,” he agreed.

“Well I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” The smile in his voice was auditory even if you couldn’t see his gorgeous face. You could, however, feel his soft lips on the crown of your head and his breath fanning over it and you reached to intertwine one of your hands with his before a yawn you couldn’t suppress any longer filled the air. “You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“But I wanna stay with you longer,” you protested, sleep clouding your tone. 

“Don’t worry, I will be here when you wake up,” Jamil promised. And with that you drifted off, the warmth from around you settling cosily around your heart. A heart that wasn’t really yours alone anymore.

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[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 1]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Prologue

➨ Chapter One

Next: Chapter Two

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): blood, gore, cannon-typical violence

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER ONE

Your head throbbed, and cradling it with your hand only turned it into a piercing pain rather than dulling it.

You were careful as you worked to stand up. It was hard to grab hold of anything sturdy enough to support your weight, and upon closer inspection, it turned out you were taking a power nap in a pile of garbage. And, boy, was that shit rank.

You stumbled your way onto solid ground whilst picking gunk-covered plastic from your shirt and hair.

The surroundings that greeted you were unlike anything you could imagine. The sky appeared polluted with red smog so thick you couldn’t see the sun, though it didn’t smell like the kind of pollution you were used to. Rather than chemical, it stank of smoke and decay.

Every breath you took of this new atmosphere felt thick and raspy. You weren’t sure you could really even consider it breathable. You were probably inhaling a handful of carcinogens by the second.

From what you could see through the gap of the two buildings that made up the alley you were in, there was a city. It was as if the materials of the buildings were selected to complement the sky. Everything was a different shade of red or burgundy. The plumes of smoke that tunneled up in the distance were mildly concerning, though they didn’t seem to be an immediate threat.

It was all enough to drive a clear sense of dread through your gut. No way in Hell were you supposed to be here. You should be on your way to Devon’s place- No, you were at Devon’s place, in their living room.

And now you were…well, you didn’t really know. That was kind of the problem.

The panic only truly set in after you tripped, scraping your knees on the filthy cement. You didn’t want to know what caused that dark brown, slightly chunky stain. Turning to face the lump that caused your stumble, your stomach plummeted. Face paled.

That was a corpse. A whole not-so-human corpse. Mangled and lying motionless in a pool of blood that was beginning to dry.

In an instant, you threw yourself off of the ground, backpedaling away from the body. What on Earth could have caused their limbs to bend in so many directions? On second thought, you hoped it would stay a mystery.

You couldn’t ruminate on it for long before you felt something large grab your shoulder, hoisting you around so your back was facing the alley. You winced as the grip grew tighter and looked up to see a green-skinned man with jagged teeth protruding from his mouth. 

In that instant, it felt as if your heart had been launched a thousand feet in the air.

His pitch-black eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to your face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move or utter a single word. His grip moved to your neck, turning your head around so he could see you from every angle. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, he brought his nose to your cheek and inhaled deeply.

“A human,” he said in a grumbly voice. You could see a corner of his lips curl into a wicked smile. “That’s a first. It’d be a shame to let you go to waste.”

Go. You had to go.

To have a freeze-response in a situation like this was a death sentence. You hadn’t the slightest clue what this man’s–this thing’s–intentions were with you, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be pleasant.

You had to move. Even if it was just an inch, just enough to convince yourself that you still could. You would take either fight or flight over this.

“Is that soul still living?”

Your eyes flicked over to the source of the new voice. A tall, reptilian-looking creature with eyes that seemed to be bugging out of its head. They were no more comforting than the man who was only a few inches away from strangling you.

“Fuck off! I found ‘er. She’s mine!” Apparently, the lizard-man was enough to draw your assailant’s attention away from you.

Lizard-man did not in fact fuck off. That response was the confirmation that only further drew him in. Looking around, you noticed other inhuman creatures turning their attention toward the three of you.

The lizard-man made a sudden lunge for you, digging claws into the green man’s arms. He hollered out in pain with an endless string of curses.

In that moment, you felt his grip on you loosen, and you dropped to the ground like dead weight. This was your chance. Likely your only chance before both of them pounced on you at once. Maybe more by the looks of the other creatures closing in, as well.

Relief washed over you as you slowly moved your arm to push you up. The mental confines over your body had been released, and just in time. You were able to clumsily roll out of the way as the men threw each other to the ground, and with wobbly legs, you promptly hauled ass out of there.

You could hear screams of rage and surprise as you shoved through the people on the street, apologizing occasionally. You could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning into the back of your head, and you were almost certain that some had given chase.

The odd buildings blurred past you. You may have caught a glimpse of a shop with televisions on display and another that looked as though human limbs were hanging on meat hooks, but this was no time for window shopping. All of it caused your head to spin from both physical and emotional whiplash.

The first corner you turned revealed a massive light-up sign that towered above everything else with text saying, “Welcome to Hell.”

What kind of twisted joke was this?

You ducked into another alleyway. Nobody was around, but you could still hear yelling close behind you. Your heart felt as though it stopped for a second as you took notice of a massive barricade blocking off the only exit. The first sliver of your luck finally showed itself to you in the form of a small gap that could be just big enough for you to fit.

You were forced to slow down in order to wiggle your way through it, allowing your pursuers to catch up. Just when you thought you had cleared the blockade, that big green hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back.

You cried out and pulled as much as you could until your foot slid out of your sock, successfully freeing you. Padding barefoot through this wretched city wouldn’t be pleasant, but you were sure it was better than whatever those things had planned for you.

As you pushed back into a sprint, you heard the green man’s voice screaming at the others about how he wouldn’t let them through before him. That was fine by you. He was much too big to fit through that hole, and you doubted he could scale the wall completely. If he was dead set on not letting anyone pass before him, then you probably had all the time in the world. Even so, you wouldn’t feel safe until you could get as far as your legs could carry you. 

So, ignoring your burning lungs and pounding heart, you pushed forward. Through the streets that grew more and more disheveled, collapsed buildings, cracked and upheaved asphalt roads. The lack of shoes only made it that much worse as your feet were getting sore. You were slowing down, but you refused to stop until you found someplace suitable to take refuge.

After the last main row of the city, there was a hill. And on top of that hill, there was a hotel.

Or so the sign on it said. Happy Hotel.

You could tell it was probably supposed to light up, but it wasn’t on, either because it was daytime (you assumed) or the bulbs were burnt out. Both seemed equally likely. The place was massive but appeared to be a hodgepodge of things all shoved into one, a cruise ship crashed into one side, a train on top of the roof… But despite its general run-down appearance, the stained glass windows remained untouched as if they were brand new.

It would be a gamble on whether this place was inhabited or not, but at least it was out of that shit show of a city. Probably the safest thing you’d come across thus far.

Besides, it was a hotel. Maybe you still had one of your cards in your pocket. If not, there was always Apple Pay, right?

The final push up the hill really did you in, leaving you panting and covered in sweat at the front door. You were dying to sit down and rest, but you wouldn’t feel comfortable doing so until you were inside. 

Seeing the building up close left you even more confused about whether or not the place was still running. The majority of the double front doors were stained glass with an apple shape in the center of each. It was quite beautiful. But at the same time, the edges of the frame appeared chipped and rotted, showing the building’s true age.

You were just thankful when the door creaked open without a fight. You didn’t want to resort to breaking in through one of those wonderful windows. With how loud it would be, you might as well scream out your arrival.

Aside from some of the detailed woodwork and repetitive apple iconography, the inside of the hotel was a bit sad to put it frankly. Little to no furniture. Cobwebs coating everything. The chandelier holding on by a thread (maybe the cobwebs were preventing it from falling). There was a minifridge, though!

You couldn’t imagine you would be lucky enough to find a cold bottle of water in there, but you decided to check to be sure. The cool air alone, wafting out as you opened its door, alleviated some of your discomfort. Unfortunately, there was no water or any beverage, for that matter. Inside were a couple of applesauce(?) cups and a styrofoam take-out container.

The fact that there was anything at all was concerning as it was a bit of confirmation there were already inhabitants. You would need to keep looking for a safe place to stay unless they ended up being the odd few in this town that weren’t out for blood.

On cue, cool metal prodded the back of your neck as you were closing the fridge, and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” asked the person behind you. Their voice was cold and harsh, and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. So much for going unscathed.

“I was just looking for somewhere to rest. I’m sorry for intruding,” you said just above a whisper, raising your hands instinctively. 

“You want to stay here?” a chipper voice cut through the air, echoing a bit in the large, empty foyer. They sounded almost happy you were trespassing. “Vaggie, this could be our first guest!”

“Babe, the hotel isn’t even open yet,” the first voice sighed before the metal was pulled away from your skin. You took that as an invitation to turn around.

Before you stood two young women–you’d guess late teens or early twenties. They were the most human-like people you had the pleasure of coming across since waking up in a hot pile of garbage. The only thing that threw you off was their grey and porcelain white skin tones. It was as if they were pulled out of a black-and-white movie from the ‘50s.

You’d take what you could get at this point. At least they didn’t have scales.

“We’ll just have to move up our grand opening then,” the taller girl sang with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. She bounded over to you, squatting down to meet you at eye level. “Would you be interested in a shot at redemption? It doesn’t matter what you’ve stolen or who you’ve murdered. Everyone deserves a second chance!”

Was this chick for real? What did redemption have to do with a hotel? And why would you need to be redeemed?

Your mouth hung open as your eyes bobbed between the two strangers.

“Wait a second…” The shorter girl–who you realized was the one holding a fucking spear to your neck–suddenly went wide-eyed. “You’re a human. Jesus, she’s a human!”

The blonde stared at her for a moment before turning back to you with knit eyebrows.

“Really? How do you know?” she asked with a tilt of her head as her eyes darted all over you, looking for some tell-tale sign of your humanity.

In what world is it surprising to see a human? You hadn’t been shipped to Mars. That you were certain of. 

Then you came to your own realization. 

Devon must have drugged you! That was the only way this could make any sense. Was it acid? LSD? You’d have to ask them after you sobered up. Or maybe after you wring their scrawny little neck, because the therapy you’d need after this was sure to cost a fortune.

The hand that landed on your shoulder caused you to flinch. The shorter girl–Vaggie–was kneeling in front of you now. Her touch was delicate as if she was worried she’d break you if she put enough pressure. A stark contrast to the way she treated you a minute ago.

“How did you get here?” she asked in a much softer tone than earlier.

You let out a huff of air, a sorry excuse for a laugh. You smiled, shaking your head as your body slumped back against the fridge.

“I don’t even know where here is,” you laughed. “I was in my friend’s apartment one second and being hunted down by a mob of demons the next.”

The two exchanged a look before helping you to your feet. They settled you down on a couch, one of the few pieces of furniture they had, and got you a glass of water to sip on. The scrapes and cuts you had gotten during your chase, or possibly before it, were treated to, as well. The foot that lost its sock was particularly nasty.

They introduced themselves and explained that you were in Hell. You reckon you should have figured that one out from the big-ass sign you saw while running for your life.

In return, you told them the last few things you could remember before ending up here. Helping your friend with a demon-summoning ritual and getting dragged through a glowing hole in the ground as a result.

“Sounds like that backfired a bit,” Vaggie said. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, a bit. That’s what I get for doing my friend a solid, I guess,” you shrugged, leaning back as you gulped down more of the water. 

“Oh, don’t say that. At the end of the day, you helped a friend, and you found us! And we’ll definitely make sure you get home safe and sound,” Charlie grinned as she gently placed a hand on your knee.

You gave a small smile in return. You’re not sure how much you believed in her words, but it was sweet of her to try to reassure you. Her hope was almost infectious, and you could use as much of that as you could get.

“Also, you’re totally welcome to stay here for as long as you need! We’ve got plenty of rooms, and I’m sure we’ll start getting more furniture soon, and if there’s any food you’d like us to get, we can–”

“Baby, slow down,” Vaggie chuckled.

“Sorry…I guess I’m just really excited. You would be our first guest, and I’ve also never seen a human other than my mom before, and even she’s a special case…” Charlie said, looking off to the side as she brushed a blonde strand of hair behind her ear.

“The only humans we technically have are the ones that die and are deemed sinners,” Vaggie explained. “But they take on a new appearance. Usually, it reflects something within their soul.”

Huh.

“That’s…interesting,” you said, eyebrows tightly furrowed together. What does being a lizard man say about that dude’s soul? And what about being green? Maybe it was his favorite color? Or maybe he was green with envy. Haha.

“So what do you say?”

You looked at Charlie to see her holding her hand out to you. If the two of you were making a deal, she wasn’t really getting anything out of it. It was pure charity work…

“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you in return,” you said, taking her hand.

With that, the two young women gave you a brief tour of the hotel. It was still a work in progress, but you could see Charlie’s vision. If they just cleaned it up a bit and filled in the space, it would look livable. You would be more than happy to help with that if you ended up spending enough time there, though you hoped it wouldn’t take that long.

If you weren’t back soon, your place would start getting cobwebs. You also couldn’t miss too many days of work…PTO wasn’t infinite, and you had bills to pay. Your coworkers would also have it out for you if you left them short-staffed.

What if they started putting up missing flyers? Hopefully, they wouldn’t blame the coworker you convinced to go home early. She was the last person you were spotted with in public, after all. No one knew you were going to Devon’s, so it was unlikely they’d take the blame.

Maybe the guy you had been in a situationship with for the last several months would be their suspect. Most of your friends knew all about him (primarily because you’d bitch and whine so much), and it’s not uncommon for people to point fingers at the ‘partner.’

He raised a few red flags here and there, sure, but what man hasn’t? None of them were even close to kidnap-murder level. Mostly just picking his toes in public and swearing on his life that his exes were the crazy ones, not him. Nothing necessarily surprising.

You needed to stop worrying and start embodying Charlie’s confidence in the situation. You would find a way to get back. You would not be stuck in Hell long enough to raise alarm. You just had to manifest it!

Eventually, your hosts showed you to the room you could stay in. It was one of the few furnished ones besides their room at the moment. They also gave you a change of clothes after realizing just how dirty (and smelly) yours were after waking up in a trash heap. Plus, you had two socks again!

You met back up with them in the foyer when you were finished. They wanted to discuss possible ways you could get out of Hell, which you had absolutely no problem with. The two of them brainstormed for a bit while you just sat back and listened in. Vaggie brought up that some upper-class ‘hellborns’ had ways in and out of Hell, but she didn’t have any specifics.

You felt bad not contributing, but what did you know about traveling between the living world and Hell? Jack, that’s what. 

“Do you think your dad would know? He’s probably had to get to Earth for some reason or another, yeah?” Vaggie asked, but she was met with a grumble of a response.

“I don’t know…” Charlie said with a frown, all her hopeful energy zapped away in an instant. “He’s never been super helpful with stuff like this.”

“Come on, babe. If anybody would know, it would be him,” Vaggie pressed. “He’s gotta have something we could use.”

Charlie simply groaned as she threw her upper body over the arm of the sofa and sat like that for a minute or two. It was possible that she wasn’t on very good terms with her father. Or he was just exasperating to deal with.

You sent a worried look at Vaggie, because what were you supposed to do in this situation?

“Okay, yeah. We can swing by my old house tomorrow and poke around,” Charlie said as she stood up.

“Great, but you,” Vaggie jabbed her finger in your direction. “Get ready to wake up bright and early. We’ll have to make you presentable first.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Next Chapter

[lilislegacy]

an analysis: piper calling percy unimpressive

(warning: i wrote this at 1 am)

so basically

remember how we all despised piper mclean when she had the audacity to call our beloved percy “unimpressive” and we all lost our shit on the inside a little bit?

i truly don’t think she meant it in the way we think she did. i think we’re all just defensive of our boy.

piper clearly states that she is comparing percy to jason. first of all, jason is her boyfriend, so of course she’s biased. second of all, hera was manipulating piper to be obsessed with jason. so other guys and girls are automatically unimpressive to her.

and here’s the big thing: piper does not call him unattractive. she does not call him ugly. she simply says he’s not her type. piper is clearly attracted to the “good boy” look. jason is literally your all-american boy. he’s tall with light skin, a sturdy build, neat blonde hair, and blue eyes. part of why annabeth doesn’t trust him is because she is unsettled by his “perfect” appearance. jason is also obedient and well-mannered. he’s your standard good boy.

and the fact of the matter is: percy looks like a “bad boy”. and often, he acts like one too. him and jason are contrasts of each other. a symbolic representation of this: their features. percy has a darker complexion, messy black hair, unique green eyes, and a “sarcastic troublemaker smile.” he’s muscular, but in a leaner and more trim way. he’s tall, but he’s not a towering muscleman by any means. not that jason is either, but don’t forget, percy is a whole one. inch. (GASP) shorter than jason (which to me isn’t even noticeable, so her pointing it out as a flaw just proves that she’s so incredibly biased towards jason.) their other big contrasting feature: their personalities. jason is respectful and well-mannered. very obedient and under control. percy, however, makes jokes during inappropriate moments, talks back to people of power and authority, gets angry quickly, and loses control easily. i mean, literally right after she says this, percy starts insulting the roman god Bacchus and rapidly escalates a situation because of his natural instinct to be disobedient. piper is horrified by him doing this, especially because jason would never. does it make US all love percy very much? yes. but piper isn’t us.

THAT SAID, even she can’t actually call him unattractive. she even went as far to state that she can see why annabeth likes him, which means even her magically-obsessed-with-jason brain can still recognize his attractiveness and see why girls find him appealing. she calls him “cute in a scruffy way,” meaning she thinks that he’s got a disheveled attractiveness to him. she also once said that his pleading eyes are like a cute baby seal’s - even she can’t deny that his eyes are wonderful. so even though piper calls him unimpressive, i think rick put in a lot of clues here showing us that she acknowledges him as a conventionally attractive person, even if she’s not personally attracted to him.

let’s sum it up, shall we?

what does it say about percy? absolutely nothing. piper calling percy unimpressive is an inaccurate and unreliable source when it comes to analyzing percy’s physical appearance, especially if you don’t consider the context. this was rick’s way of showing piper’s clear preference towards jason, just like annabeth has a clear preference towards percy. and even though she said this, rick also made her give us several hints that percy is handsome, just not in a way she’s inclined towards. rick wanted love triangles to be completely out of the question with these 4. he wanted to make it very clear that annabeth had no interest in jason, and that piper had no interest in percy. so since piper is so drawn towards jason, percy had to be very different from him in her eyes.

jason is your a superman, percy is your batman

jason is your captain america, percy is your iron man. some even say spider man.

so put yourself in piper’s shoes: after hearing percy jackson’s name non-stop for 6 months, hearing him compared to jason, hearing of all his accomplishments and how heroic he is - i mean, the guy was literally honored on olympus and offered godhood - she was expecting a stereotypical good-boy hero. a hercules. a superman. your standard muscular blinding-white-teeth-smile hunk. the conventional, well-mannered good boy. and instead she got a wild and untamed, trouble-making bad boy. percy has an edge to him. he’s intimidating and unpredictable. he’s sarcastic and witty. he just looks like he’s up to no good. she wasn’t expecting any of that. that’s not what we’re taught a hero is supposed to be like or look like.

jason is appealing in a “he’d be a respectable and sturdy husband” way.

percy is appealing in a “he’s gonna fuck up my life but i so badly want him to” kind of way. (even though once you get to know him, you see he’s literally the world’s best boyfriend. piper even gets jealous of how loving he is towards annabeth.)

she had this exact idea of what he would be, and he wasn’t that. hence her calling him “unimpressive.” but it says nothing about his attractiveness.

i rest my case, your honor.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

disclaimer: i am not saying percy is actually a bad boy or a bad guy. he is a sweetheart. he has the biggest heart ever. he’s a cute little cinnamon roll. i am simply talking of first impressions from outsiders, and how he appears if you don’t know him.

[waxingrunes]

I’m seeing too much of this across all channels and I need to write a little something on my humble blog with my humble amount of followers, because how else am I going to get this off my chest.

Some of you need to remember that this whole world we created is pure, fiction. It’s based off fiction and we are building off fiction, forking off in different directions with characters we love.

The canon vs fanon debate is ongoing and quite honestly, mind numbingly pointless and you all consistently contradict and overlap one another with whatever discourse you’re riding that week. You lot wanna argue a point by saying, “these are my hc’s and I can do what I like with them stop taking everything so seriously teeheehehehe” then uno reverse that the next minute by screaming, “that would never happen *insert name* is this or is that” but fuck canon right? Fuck JKR? Or is it more, fuck the parts of canon I don’t like and I’ll take the parts I do so I can shove them down the throats of creators who represent these characters in an opposing light. The amount of posts I’ve seen floating around these sites that are people preaching to their audiences about how dumb they are (unless it’s meant to be satire, I’m not a brainless sensitive lump with no humour bone) for liking certain things, or enjoying certain things, or preferring certain aspects in a character is astounding. Take pause before jumping on your high horse over a fictional character and shaming people for moulding them into what they enjoy. Is this not the beauty of fiction, imagination; the ability to twist and turn over different traits and appearances within our palms and make them into our own little dress up dolls?

Here’s my two cents as a WOLFSTAR artist, not a Marauders— if I want to make Sirius into a teacup and Remus into a sea slug and have him curl up to sleep every night in his bowl, then I’ll do that with fine china detail. If I want to make Sirius someone who refuses to wear nothing but a specific shade of tangerine and Velcro strapped trainers, I will. One day I might throw Moony into a boxing ring and have him be a middleweight champion, stained by the blood of his opponent whilst his wolf is chomping at the bit to come out just before the full moon threatens to take centre stage. If I want to make Sirius 6ft tall and Remus 5ft1, I will. Why not draw an AU of them as the rocks from Everything, Everywhere All At Once? Maybe, they can be something as simple as a boy and a boy who look the way you want them to look, fuck the way you want them to fuck and fall in love and fight, and scream, and cry, and make up a million different ways.

Let’s get more specific as the seal’s broken. Why not make Remus plus sized and give him a beard or a dad’s bod at age 23. Or maybe because he’s lighter haired he doesn’t have dark hair like that and only has a smattering of it across the ugliest of his scars. Consider this— moony with softer hips but fuller sturdy shoulders. Or long, slender limbs with a deceptively hidden strength owing to his wolf, stronger than James though he doesn’t look it. Onto Sirius, try to tell me I’m not going to put him in thigh highs and fem the shit out of him whilst he holds a bat in one hand covered in the blood of someone who tried to disrespect his Moons. Alert the press when someone erases every single one of his tattoos only to replace them with hyperpigmentation. What about giving him a beater’s build and a long thick trail of naval hair that he likes to call his ‘seeker’s delight’. What about a hairless Sirius who has a soft life and likes to make herself pretty for her 6ft 4 boyfriend every weekend when he gets on the train to visit.

How about, I stick with my personal holy take on the boys and present you with a harmless middle ground where Moony is whatever the fuck I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but always a wet fucking cloth for Sirius. A grape, under a thumb, you could say. And a Sirius, who is too whatever I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but will always be Moony’s biggest cheerleader.

Stay with me whilst I offer you the brain stretching, risky, taboo thought for you to ponder on: stop trying to please people. Stop absorbing all these takes that pressure you into thinking you’ve got to include every fucking thing that shaves you down and boxes you into their squeaky clean little creator! Indulge in what you like. Make it public, make it known and make it as loud as you want. Feels good on this side of freedom.

Lastly, quick (none of this has been quick) circle back to myself being a Wolfstar artist, not a Marauders one. I will not be shamed into drawing the women in this fandom, I will not try to even out my art with equal parts women and men, in fear of being called misogynistic. I came here for Wolfstar and I stay for them; I get 95% of my muse from them and enjoy drawing these idiots nearly every single day when I can. I’ve a busy life, a job, the luxury of a family that love me and a couple friends I’d like to keep too. If and when I draw, it’s going to be what I want to draw and want to indulge in, not to check off your boxes of inclusion. I am not going to defend my choice of indulgence to you. I am not going to refute women or wlw ships and in fact, eat up stories or art where they’re prominent. Will I have muse or will to do a piece on them? Probably not. If I do, I will and if it’s not done to a standard deemed appropriate enough by the council, well shit I hope I get an honourable mention in one of your hate threads on Twitter.

Grow up. I am the type of person who has a more or less rigid taste on these boys and what I, enjoy representing them like and you runts will run your throats hoarse before I turn an ear. I am not the type of person to see someone who doesn’t like what I prefer and start slamming my keyboard and slap them with a red card. I’ll move on but appreciate the take in silence. Some of you really, come across like you’re stomping your feet in a tantrum, some of you sound like you’ve never been told to shut the fuck up a day in your life and some of you, some of you, really think you’re a messiah.

Fuck your canons, fanons and righteous attitudes towards people who are quite literally, not real. You are not a deity of the Marauders, you are a fucking loser offline just like the rest of us.

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (6)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 4K

WARNINGS: slight angst

A/N: okay brace yourselves ladies it's a long chapter. and slow paced too but i genuinely loved writing this chapter and showing intimate conversations between dream and her. its a slow burn after all the chemistry has to be right.

PART 6 ✧˖°.

"Morning lads," you greeted the pair sorting through the daily mail.

"Mornin- woah what happened?" Charles' eyes motioned to your hand.

What? How were your injuries from your dreams transferring into real life? Well, technically that happened outside your dream. Whatever, you had no energy to mull over the technicalities of the realm differences, that was better left to the Endless.

"Eh nothing. Just slightly cut my hand open on the bed railing."

"How did that even- you know what nevermind."

"How's Jesse doing?" You changed the subject.

The boys had been monitoring her full night.

"The demon did peek through but for like half a second. Too brief for us to use our incantations and extract him out," Charles answered. "Poor kid. Must be suffering."

You gulped down some water and nodded.

"So? I was in-"

"Hell for seventy years." Charles and you finished his sentence.

"Oi turn up the volume a bit," you said as the television screen displayed some news in the background.

"As you can see around us ladies and gentlemen, the sleepy sickness has indeed made a comeback. We have Shiara's parents with us right now who has been diagnosed with the same, just one victim out of the thousands being affected," the lady reported from a hospital.

Shit shit shit. This was bad.

"Will the number soon soar to millions like it did around a century back?" The reporter continued.

You had obviously read about it. And Morpheus himself had told you how his imprisonment had befallen this plague on the waking world.

"That's..intense," Edwin said.

You never heard Charles' reply because your brain was busy trying to comprehend what you had just heard. You needed to see Dream. In response to your plea, Matthew pecked against the window.

"I will be right back," you told the guys. "Need some fresh air." You grabbed your coat and hurried out.

Dream was waiting for you in the alley behind the building.

"The sleepy sickness is back," you said as you approached him.

"I know."

"But-I-," you stuttered, "I don't understand. I thought things were supposed to move in the healing direction after last night. Atleast not worsen."

"You are coming to the Dreaming with me."

"Right now?"

In answer, Morpheus fetched his sand pouch from his cloak. You knew he could easily transport you through his cloak disappearing trick. But he seemed determined to avoid any direct contact between you two. Except when he had bandaged your hand. Ugh not the time to be a hopeless romantic. Sand enveloped you in a tornado and took you to the Dreaming. Your heart shuddered when you took in the scene awaiting you. Ruins littered the ground everywhere which in turn bore fresh cracks. You revolved your head around, assessing the damage. You took a step back, bad idea. Your feet connected with nothing and you fell, would have if not for the sturdy arm wrapped around you. Something in your guts uncoiled, partially from the apparent death, and partially from the proximity of him. This close you could see the crystal blue of his sapphires for eyes. Loose rocks fell into the crevice, showing you your alternate fate. He uprighted you on secure ground before withdrawing his hand from your waist. That was the third time he had contacted you, willingly or not. Were you keeping track? For fuck's sake you almost fell to your death and that's the part you want to fixate upon?

Shoving your flustered state deep down, you asked, "How did this happen?"

"Honestly, I dont know," Dream spoke, "What I know is we need to take another approach, a more direct and dangerous one. It is our only shot at saving humanity." He looked down at you, his eyes imploring you to trust him and validate his decision.

Had he so little faith in you? "When do we start?"

"Tonight."

You were flopped on the couch alongside Jesse watching some lame ass family movie. The boys were on some haunted house case according to the note scribbled in Charles' ugly handwriting. On the screen, a daughter hugged her mom and you tasted a palette of emotions- jealousy for being denied what others had for granted, lonely for having no one to call your own, frustration for not remembering anything. Even though you had accepted the erasure of your past, you couldn't help but grieve who you were. Who were you? Someone who mattered so little that her family and friends didn't even bother looking for her? Didn't deem her worthy of putting themselves through the trouble.

The door busted open and Charles stormed through.

"Where's Edwin?"

"Fuck knows." Was all he said before shutting himself in his room.

Okay something was seriously wrong. The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it.

"Charles?"

He was sat on his bed, whimpering softly.

"Hey? What happened?" You asked in a whisper and sat down beside him.

He shook his head. You gave him time to gather his thoughts. "He just doesn't understand."

"Edwin?"

Charles sniffed, wiping his tears away. He took a deep breath and started, "There was this family. The husband murdered the wife and children."

You inhaled a bountiful. You were aware of his traumatizing past starring his abusive dad. That fucker. The first time he had told you about him, a rage you had never been familiar with before had tightened around your veins. If that sick brute hadn't already had departed the waking world, you would have hunted him down and done that.

"I am so sorry." You intertwined your fingers in his.

"I tried to intervene but apparently had some strong emotional response to it and got sucked into the situation itself. I am aces now-"

"Clearly."

He continued on, "but that didn't stop Edwin from yelling at me for getting involved in the first place." He sucked a breath. "I couldn't help it Hazel, I just couldn't. When I saw his ghost murder-" he choked on his words. New tears escaped his eyes and burned at the back of yours.

You cupped his face in your hands and swiped your thumbs across his cheekbones, dampening his tears. "Look at me Charles." 

He reluctantly met your gaze. "I am so sorry you had to go through that. I can't even begin to grasp what that might have felt like. That's simply fucked up. But you have to know, if there is one person who understands you, it is Edwin. He cares for you more than any other person or ghost on this Earth. The only reason he yelled at you was because he was scared Charles." You didn't release your hold on his face. "Of losing you."

Charles' eyes softened.

"He loves you. We both do."

"I know." A hint of a smile graced his lips.

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. Charles' tearstained face kept flashing in your mind. You had found Edwin at the bottom of the stairs, equally devastated at his outlash. He had explained to you what you already knew, that he was worried for Charles, of losing him. Oh these boys were going to be the death of you,  provided you survived long enough.

"You are late," Dream declared when you appeared in his realm.

"Sorry, trouble at home."

"Nothing serious," you added to erase the crease in his brows.

"I want to show you something."

"Lead the way your Highness!"

You followed him to Holy shit. You'd thought you'd toured through every phenomenon in the Dreaming, been fascinated by every miracle it had to offer. You were proved wrong as you titled your head backwards to witness the dazzling fabric of sky warping around you. When you propelled it downwards the same enchanting sight glimmered. The water was coated in the sheen of the starry night. An admiration blossomed deep in your core for the Endless standing at your side, the creator of the spectacles you had witnessed in the realm, the cause behind all your fascination. These docks just being one example, perhaps your favourite yet. After your very own dream of course.

"And this, mortal, is where the magic happens."

He extended his arms and the sea waters responded to their master's call. It roared to life from its dormant state and danced to the tunes of the Endless' hands. Spiral of waves loomed from the sea, stray droplets settling on your skin as you watched the Dream lord at work. Globes of water bounced on the ocean's surface. An assortment of objects and beings went about in their respective bubbles. In one such bubble, through its foggy exterior you recognised a dream you had gotten to trust mere days ago. And then it dawned on you, you were watching people's dreams. You were staring at the collective unconscious of the living world. There was no horizon visible as far as sight took you, the sea and the sky effortlessly blended into one entity. You were in infinity itself. Where you stood was sacred ground. And Morpheus had brought you here, to a special rendition of his soul. He trusted you. No, he had no other option but to, with the waking world now in turmoil too. Unknown to your captivated self, Dream was taking in each and every shift in your expression.

He came up just beside you. "Dip your hand in it."

You peered through the mist swathing the globules of dreams floating in front of you. Seeing your apprehension, he went first. His skin immersed the film and once he was halfway through, he rotated his head back. An invitation.

"You will be fine," he said.

"You promise?"

A thousand emotions collided in his eyes all in a fraction of a second. "I promise." And he disappeared into the globule. You followed suit and landed on your butts on solid ground. The Endless at your side who was standing on both his feet having failed to make a clown of himself unlike you, paid no heed to your graceful landing. You were on your feet in a quick motion. Butterflies fluttered their wings around you and you extended your arms for them to rest upon. A giggle left you as one plopped itself on your nose.

"What is this place?" You couldn't keep the wonder out of your voice.

"This is Fiddler's green. One of my proudest creations, I confess."

"I don't blame you." Your eyes raked past the waterfall and the pure greenery of the place.

A boy, just a child, hopped a few feet away from you.

"Why are we here?" You asked finally.

"To try our new approach."

"Dream you really have to start being elaborate."

"We need him to wake up. He has been here for a while."

"Wouldn't really hold it against him. Have you looked at this place?"

Dream looked at you. Of course he had. What kind of stupid rhetorical question was that to ask the person who had made the effing place.

"I mean it's beautiful."

He brushed past your compliment and said, "Hazel he has the sleepy sickness."

"Oh. But how am I supposed to get him to wake up?"

Nightmares weren't the only ones running wild. Dreams even as pleasant as the one you were currently in, were drifting from their original purpose to serve humankind. They used their beauty and kindness as an added advantage to lure humans into staying in a fragment of their mind forever. You'd known humans' resolve was fickle, being one of them. And provided with an opportunity to escape, no one would ever turn it down. Even the strongest wills would shatter with the passage of time. And that was why you listened intently to what Morpheus had to say.

"Invoke trust in the Fiddler's green as you did with others. Without hope, their sense of their purpose is growing corrupt. They are feeding on humanity's innate desire to run away from reality. Your trust has to fill in the void left by the absence of hope."

"What if I can't?"

"You don't have a choice."

"Dream but I- what if I am not the person for this? This was Hope's job. It was never meant to be mine."

"Will you tell his parents that they can stop visiting his bed every second of the day, quell their prayers, and say goodbye to their son because you were afraid to try?"

Brutal. But the impact was necessary. "No."

"Then the fate of the world is in your hands mortal."

No pressure then.

"Oi where are you going?" You asked Dream's retreating figure.

"This is your fight Hazel. I will see you when he wakes up."

"If you think you can just leave me here- " He definitely thought so because you were standing alone on the grassy landscape, except the jovial boy chasing butterflies.

You looked at him, airy giggles erupted from his throat. You sat down, feeling the grass beneath your palms. And closed your eyes until the beating of your heart was all you were aware of.

The dream collapsed as back in the waking world, the boy began to stir, accompanied by exuberant cries of his parents. You found yourself back on the docks, completely drenched. Beads of water dripped down from the hair sticking to your face.

"You look pathetic."

You swirled around to face the Endless who had spoken those words.

"A thankyou, you did remarkably well. Yoo hoo you are saving the world and I am indebted to you. And I apologise from the bottom of my heart which I am not even sure if I possess one, for abandoning you back there, would be nice but you know whatever," you rambled. "Wouldn't want to disrupt this whole emo vibe you have going on," you vaguely gestured to his hair and robes.

Your sour mood immediately dissolved as a smile graced his lips, his perfect cherry lips, you didn't deny it this time. An actual smile, fleeting but it was there. As real as the wind blowing through his hair, bestowing an air of ethereality upon him. A god, an Endless, who had just smiled at you.

"It's time for you to wake up mortal. The sun has already risen in your land. We have a lengthy path to walk, Fiddler's green was just one on it."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're one massive buzzkill?"

You didn't think so with the authority he owned and his general 'you dare say anything to me?' demeanour but the reminiscent twinkle in his eye made you doubt otherwise.

"Goodnight Hazel."

You were lying in your bed since you had woken up, which was seconds or minutes ago, brooding over stuff, enjoying the quiet laziness before one of the guys would barge into your room and drag you out of bed. They were late today. The faint ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room when a sudden scream interrupted the monotonous ticking followed by a loud thud. You dashed through your room to the living room where an unconscious Jesse was slumped on the carpet. Charles and Edwin were both lying on the floor next to a book on incantation and Charles' pandora's box, as you liked to call his bag of tricks.

"Oh you are alive," Charles addresses you.

"What the fuck happened?"

"The demon happened," Edwin exhaled in a breath.

"Don't worry we had it contained, like forever." Charles jiggled an opaque jar in his hands. "No thanks to you," he quipped.

"I-" You were dumbfounded. "You could have woken me up."

"Oh we tried mate, but you were sleeping 'like a log' won't do it justice. We thought you were dead for a moment."

"Or worse, that you had the sleepy sickness. But before we could assess that for certain, Charles had to pee and then Jesse got possessed so we kind of had our hands full."

It was because I was in someone else's dream you gits. But it isn't like you could explain that to them. And you did have a history of sleeping like someone who had just been introduced to the concept, so you let it pass.

"But we are obviously super relieved to see you fit and aces."

"I can see that. Charles you chose pee over me!" You cried.

"Mate it was nothing personal. It was really urgent."

Okay that was the last straw. Your hands were around his neck in a second, your knees pinning him down as he tried to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Careful with the jar, you two." Edwin said flatly, unconcerned if you would strangle the ghost.

What would happen if you did? Could ghosts die again? A part of you wanted to find out badly, but a sympathetic loser  part of you took pity on his reddening face and let go. You fell down on the space next to him, both of you heaving air into your lungs.

"I hate you," Charles huffed, his earring still dangling from the aftermath of your force.

You patted his shoulder. "Don't fret it son. I hate you more."

You were headed back to the agency with arms full from your grocery trip. A yapping Charles trailed on in front of you. Jesse had moved out, to your ghost friend's dismal and ranting about it was his way of dealing with it, unfortunately.

"And she said Edwin-that Edwin had a better fashion sense than me! Can you believe it?"

"I can."

He stopped and you took the lead. "What?" He blinked.

"Come on Charles you can't be serious. His taste is impeccable. I would have stolen his wardrobe a long time ago if he wasn't a ghost."

Passers by gave you judgmental glances, but you were used to it.

He caught up to you. "Hazel, this." He gestured to his baggy jacket. "And this." He flicked his earring.

"Yes even after this and this."

"I can't believe girls sometimes, scratch that, all the times." He fastened his pace, muttering to himself.

You brought your wrist to your hand to see the time when you got knocked off balance as someone bumped against you. Your groceries spilled out of the paper bag onto the road.

"Oh I am so sorry," a stranger's voice apologised.

You both were on your knees, gathering your escaped items.

"No it's okay my fault. I wasn't lookin-" You looked up and golden eyes met you. Wow. That was one rare iris.

"Oh shush now darling. Mistakes happen," they cooed.

You both scrambled to your feet as they handed you your bag. "Thankyou."

"You're welcome Hazel."

"How do you know my name?"

"Oh I overheard you and the boy talking," they said with an unnerving smile.

They could see him? Well quite a many people could, guaranteed that they'd had a similar bump in with death, not the Endless. You watched Charles distant profile walk on far ahead still seemingly mumbling to himself. You turned your head back to ask them if they had been in a near death incident, but they were already gone. Weird.

"Haz are you coming?" Charles shouted, realising you weren't with him.

You forsake the encounter with the golden eyed person and made your way towards your impatient friend.

Cool water lapped around your ankles where you had dipped your feet in them. The past week you'd fallen into a routine, a tedious and rewarding one, as you helped more and more people get rid of their eternal sleep. You had learned to manoeuvre the waters on your own, invading people's dreams while Dream devoted his time in mending his realm. Some days he'd join you after your daily targets and you'd both sit together, relishing each other's company. Today was one such day.

"When do we begin with the nightmares?" You had only focused on the sweet dreams till yet. Dream was insistent on it, forbidding you from trespassing through any others.

"Not yet," he said.

"Don't you ever get tired?" You asked after some time.

"Of what Hazel?"

"Of being immortal."

He raised his eyebrows at you, "Would you?"

"Fuck no!" You bit your lip. "Sorry. I mean knowing your time is always running out, does generate a new appreciation for life. But that life seems to be gone in a blink of an eye. Too brief, to leave a mark, to have your existence mean something. Time becomes the most precious and most despised instrument at play," you spoke. "But being immortal, it's-it's something else. Imagine the wonders you could witness, could be a part of. An eternity of just living, carrying the past of the world with you into the future. I like having a particular destination to swim to, but I would rather be lost in the infinite ocean, you know?"

Dream listened to your words intently. "I have a friend back in the waking world. Hob Gadling."

"I didn't strike you as that."

"As what?"

"As someone having friends. But go on."

"We met in the fourteenth century. Death and I visited this pub together and there he was, proclaiming humans could cheat death."

"What did you do?"

"Death granted him his wish."

"What?" What?  "So does that mean he is still alive?"

"Yes. In fact we meet up every century."

"Hold up hold up. The devil meeting with an immortal man in the pub, that has nothing to do with this right?"

Dream's lips twitched imperceptibly.

"Will you ever cease surprising me?"

Quiet ensued you both.

"So this Hob Gadling, does he enjoy his immortality?"

"To my initial surprise, yes. I had thought after a hundred years, he would surely be begging me to take the curse back but he seemed to consider it a boon. Even after centuries had gone by, his zest to live never died, hasn't died. He reminds me of you. Or, you remind me of him."

"Oh careful Dream lord, are you implying I am your friend?" You nudged his shoulder lightly.

"Now let's not get too ahead of ourselves."

You let out a half suppressed laugh.

"Perhaps," he said.

You titled your head towards him, "Eh. I don't think I'm ready to promote you from acquaintance just yet."

"Is that how it is?"

"Absolutely."

A shooting star dived through the sky, cutting a blaze of fire through it.

"What do you wish for Dream?"

He glanced at you.

"Come on. It appears every day without fail, in the abode of your creations. You made it. What do you wish for everyday?"

He was silent.

"And here I thought we were friends."

"I created it in memory of Hope."

That was the first time he had willingly mentioned her. 

"Do you miss her?"

He took his time to answer. "Sometimes."

You drew your feet out of the water and hugged your knees. "Well. Tragedy does birth-"

"The most beautiful things."

You looked at him to find his eyes already on you, a quiet yearning displayed in them.

"Ok mind reader," you scoffed.

"I do not posses those powers, unfortunately."

"Oh a creep then?"

When you looked at him again, his lips imitated the crescent moon in the sky on his perfect face. It wasn't like any of the fleeting twitches, no matter how treasured, he had given you before. The smile reached his cheeks. His teeth glittered under the moonlight, his skin washed in it. A weak crinkle formed at the end of his eyes. Your heart lurched in its rib cage, wanting to join another. No. You won't fall for him. You won't fall for an Endless. You won't fall for the pompous goth guy. You won't fall for him. You weren't falling for him. You weren't falling for him. You weren't falling for him. You were not falling for him. Shit. You were falling for him. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

[m2ok]

Captain Price Headcannons

John Price X M!Reader

A/N: I started putting together furniture today and my first thought was how good Price would be at assembling shit and that headcannon just kinda spiraled into my general thoughts about him :) enjoy

Weirdly good at putting furniture together. Anything you buy that needs to be assembled he can put it together in an hour or less, and without the instructions too. He’d take one look at them, huff and throw em out. He’d probably add reinforcements too to make it better.

Going off of that, he for sure likes woodworking and would rather build you the things you want instead of buying it anyways. He knows he can make it better and just the way you want it.

His love language in terms of giving is acts of service. He just loves doing stuff for you even if it’s something simple like getting your favorite drink when he’s at the store.

His love language in terms of receiving is quality time. He’s so busy that getting down time is sacred and all he wants to do is spend it with you. He’d follow you everywhere you went just to be with you even if he hated whatever stores you went into.

His favorite cuddling position is when he gets to lay his head on your chest and have you play with his hair. He just finds it so relaxing to be able to listen to your heartbeat while your soft fingers worked through his hair.

You cannot tell me he isn’t a complete gentleman. He for sure opens doors for you, insists on driving (you’d always be a passenger prince idc idc), all in all just a respectful man.

I think he’d stick to classic nicknames like “sweetheart”, “honey”, “my love” that kinda thing.

Speaking of nicknames, he gets genuinely worried when you call him by his actual name because you only call him pet names. Will 100% think he did something wrong and get a little pouty.

Protective but not in a possessive way. He knows you can take care of yourself especially if you’re in the military, but it’s just something that comes with him. Honestly he’s protective over all his boys, just you a bit more.

Speaking of you being in the military, he’d have a very strict no favoritism rule. He’d treat you just like he did the other men. Not only because his job is important to him, but also because he respects you and doesn’t want to underplay your abilities simply because you’re together. Plus treating you like everyone else would ensure you get stronger and are therefore safer.

He wouldn’t hide the relationship from the team, but he just wouldn’t tell them. They’d find out because you’d probably give him a kiss goodbye when they went on a mission and the team saw. When asked about it he’d just say “we’ve been dating for a while, I wasn’t hiding it you just didn’t ask”

When you two eventually settled down you would have a cute, small house. It would be like a cabin in the woods, not too far from civilization but far enough that you didn’t have to worry about noise pollution or nosy neighbors.

Likes going on hikes with you, probably likes to camp too. Honestly just all of that kinda outdoorsy shit like chopping wood for your fire place.

You wouldn’t have a farm of any sort but I think you’d definitely have chickens, maybe ducks. He likes the taste of fresh eggs better than the store and he knows they were at least taken good care of.

Absolutely gets a big dog like a Saint Bernard or a mountain dog. Got it when it was a puppy and trained it to be a good hiking/guard dog. You always treated her like a little baby so now she’s more cuddly than scary and John always pretends to be mad about it

“She was supposed to be a killing machine. Now look at her” he’d say as she laid on top of you, blankets tucked around her so she’d stay warm.

“She’s just a baby!” You’d counter, covering her ears so she didn’t wake up.

Has a perpetual smell of pine and fresh air. Not overwhelmingly masculine, but strong and sturdy.

All in all I just think he would be a very comforting lover. He’d take such good care of you and it would be a stable, very mature relationship. You’d talk things out instead of argue, communicate well, and over all just have a healthy relationship.

As always, requests are open :)

[triple-starsss]

I think i might've offhandedly mentioned Eggman's company before in one of my earlier posts but figured i'd go a little more into it.

Gonna be completely honest i still don't have a concrete name for his business yet ABSJDFH. I mean Eggman as a name is catchy enough to be used as a company name - it's like Mr Clean to me. for now i'll just refer to it as Eggman industries for simplicity's sake.

OKAY SO. Eggman's company to the public eye is nothing more than a simple multi million dollar cleaning and home appliance manufacturer. His machines are well crafted and like ridiculously sturdy, these fuckers do NOT break (FOR REASONS I WILL EXPLAIN LATER ABSJDF) and also don't rely on electricity or normal ass batteries to run, making them really popular due to how much money people are saving by using em (of course it does mean that they're like stupidly expensive too)

HOWEVER. that is not where Eggman specializes! he designs and builds artillery bots that only a select few organisations or people know of can buy (for their own nefarious reasons;;). Omega is one of these bots however he had a couple problems so he was kept as a cleaning robot (tragic, AND YES I AM 100% REUSING MY BOOM!OMEGA CONCEPT).

Eggman's main thing is that his appliances don't require electricity due to their built in batteries!!!...... the batteries are animals (who doesn't love a flicky in their washing machine <3). Obviously Eggman does not want people finding out about this so he makes his appliances virtually indestructible - you could throw that dish washer off a 20 story building and trust it will still work.

AS YOU CAN SEE HIS BUSINESS IS INCREDIBLY UNETHICAL. and also expensive as hell, he wants to find a different energy source (wink wonk chaos drives) since animals can only grant so much however that research requires funding, and a whole lot of it - and that's where Triple S come in. Eggman knows that boy bands make a shit load of money if they're successful and marketing is no issue for him so he went ahead and scouted for 3 normal ass guys he could bring in to form a band. Oh and he mainly wants a different source for the artillery bots!!

Again to like, every person ever, it's incredibly weird for Eggman to suddenly manage a boy band of all things when his whole company is around home appliances but ehhhh who cares the music bangs.

[dramioneasks]

Hi guys. I want a long head boy/girl fic. 8th year common trauma vibes <20ch. Enemies to lovers. Thanks dramione rulezzzzz

One Day at a Time - DragonBaiter - T, 18 chapters - Hermione went back to Hogwarts to finish her education, not anticipating how difficult it would be without her two best friends or how she’d have to work closely with Draco Malfoy to fulfill their Head Girl and Head Boy duties. With both of them still suffering from the emotional scars they received during the war, will they be able to get through each day, or will it all go upside down? Note: There is not a separate Head Girl and Boy dorm in this story.

Proximity - maraudersreign - E, WIP - After the war, returning to Hogwarts; Hermione Granger is left with a festering wound. One inside her soul, and one blistering deep inside of her arm. And he is the only person that sets off a fire inside the both of them. Either way, she learns she can’t come close to him without the scar on her arm paralyzing her entire body — and it’s impossible to stay away when she’s forced to live with him.And his best friend who is desperate for her help, in exchange for a secret that he swore to keep.Soulmate/soulbond au. Eighth Year, Head Boy/girl. Forced proximity. There is a lot of shit, be prepared.*before this work is complete, there might be editing and changes to the chapters, but no plot changes*

Build (Volume I: Ashes) by JessicaLovejoyAO3 - E, 21 chapters, Words: 158,265 - Following the Battle of Hogwarts and the Fall of Voldemort, the Golden Trio work to return to some semblance of normalcy and heal. The Ministry of Magic tries to rectify their past mistakes with swift retaliation across Europe for Death Eaters and their sympathizers. Hogwarts reopens 6 months after the Second War. The story begins in summer 1998, where everyone who returns to Hogwarts must complete an extended eighth year. The condition for all involved is at least 30 sessions of mandated therapy funded by the Ministry. Inspired by: Remain Nameless by heyjude19 Remain Nameless’s Draco often lamented how much time was lost with Hermione because he was a bigoted prat and mired in self-loathing. This work is a mental exercise that strives to answer the question of what would happen if DHr continued at Hogwarts after the war and had the proper supports to learn to forgive and heal together? Expect smut, therapy, and two-way notebooks.

Twinned Quills - MeghanLeFay - M, 32 chapters, Words: 107,003  - The wrapping was a shimmering blue paper that reflected in the light. Hermione tore through the paper to reveal a sturdy black box. She carefully pried open the lid, and a gasp escaped her lips. With a shaking hand, she pulled out a long feather quill that had been dyed a very deep blue. … The quill scratched over the parchment as an invisible hand began to write. It wrote a single line, then stopped in place. ‘Took you long enough. Is this the first time you’ve tried to use  it?’ She recognized that tight, angular script. ‘Malfoy?’ … Hermione paused, and her eyes rested on Malfoy’s note from last night: ‘Why do you clutch at your arm every time you see me?’ Words jumbled around in her mind until slowly, deliberately, she wrote back: ‘My scars haven’t faded yet.’

Illusioned - Shannona - E, 36 chapters, Words: 208,394 - Hermione returns to Hogwarts to complete her final year as Head Girl! With the Battle of Hogwarts over and the wizarding world uniting and attempting to return to peace-time, she says goodbye to her two best friends as they head to Auror training. Little did she know that her world would soon be turned upside by a person she had never expected to become a part of her life, let alone drag her into his. Plot Notes - Draco and his mother defected to the Order after the incident at Malfoy Manor (TDH), fighting on their side in the Battle. The story jumps back and forth from present-day (Hermione in her early-mid 20’s) to Hermione in Hogwarts.

-Lisa

[dufrau]

For the ask game: 9 and 36 and my question for 36 is: what is your favorite movie? (I have to ask, if I don't ask... you don't wanna know)

9. What do you consider your biggest accomplishment?

Oh wow. I guess, just... building a life I am happy with. Obviously a lot of that is luck, let's be real. But, surrounding myself with the kind of people i want to get old with. Finding work that is fulfilling to me, and hobbies that keep me interested. Building sturdy boundaries and having people respect them. I don't know. It's not really one thing. But it feels big when I think about being young and not knowing what my life would look like. It feels like a huge accomplishment.

Bonus: What is my favorite movie?

The silly answer that is also probably the real answer is this terrible horror movie from the 90s called either Spectre or House of the Damned depending where you're looking for it, starring Alexandra Paul from Baywatch. It's incredibly bad in so many wonderful ways. I first saw it in high school when me and my friends used to just go to Blockbuster and rent random shit we had never heard of, and we still quote this movie to each other some 20+ years later.

Actual good movies though? I really love Alien. I think it's a perfect movie. Silence of the Lambs, obviously some aspects of it have aged like hot garbage but it's still such a good movie. Tommy Boy is very stupid but I will watch it any time any place. I'm also weirdly into Gangs of New York even though its not an amazing movie, but for some reason when I'm sick I love to watch it???

(questions)

[jsehungergamesau]

Against All Odds

CHAPTER 2

No. No. No. No. This can't be real.

Heads turn towards Chase as someone from behind him gives a push right into a peacekeeper. He tries not to gasp. He forces his legs to move and keep his head up high as he makes his way to the stage, but he can't seem to broaden his shoulders, folding inward on himself as he walks. His throat is dry, and he can distantly hear Stacy’s protests and cries, begging for someone to volunteer for him while being shushed by the crowd.

His footsteps don't even creak on the solid wooden stairs as he climbs them. 

He looks over the crowd, his home, his community. Watching faces morph into everything from relief and mourning to utter shock. He feels a cold hand touch his back, keeping him upright, and distantly registers that he locked his knees so he wouldn't run.

“Any volunteers?” The cupcake woman asks the crowd. 

Chase prays again, this time to the crowd directly, someone out there has to know he’s about to be a dad. Someone has to volunteer. They can’t leave Stacy to be alone with a child. Someone must have some pity. Please. He begs them with his eyes.

Nobody steps forward to volunteer. The entire district remains silent.

Chase's stomach drops like a mangled stump into a wood chipper.

“Well, there you have it, District Seven! Your tributes this year: Ivy Cinder and Chase Brody! Let's give them a big hand!" 

He doesn't see anyone move, but if they did clap, Chase wouldn't have heard it. Blood was rushing in his ears as his brain spun out, trying to keep up with what was happening to him.

Chase feels numb as the peacekeepers usher him into the clock tower. The old building doubles as a city hall for the district and has been well maintained despite the rest of the town crumbling to sawdust around them. If he bothered to look directly up when they entered the door, Chase would be gazing up the spiraling steps of the clock tower itself and see the gleaming gears ticking away steadily high above their heads. Well-oiled and sturdy to the tests of time meanwhile, Chase could feel his entire life burning around him like a raging forest fire in contrast. 

They escort him to a private room to wait for visitors and the first thing Chase does after the doors close is scream. 

He wants to throw something. So instead of something breakable and expensive- the tray of crystal drinking glasses looks very tempting- he rips off his flannel and wads it into a ball with harsh digging fingers, flinging it with all of his strength into the plush leather couch. He grabs his hair and begins to pace the freshly cleaned hardwood floor. 

Okay, Brody. Get your shit together. Keep calm. Keep calm. You can figure this out-

He doesn't have much time to calm himself when his father walks in. Douglas “Chip” Brody looks at his only son, and for a rare moment in Chase's life, his father walks over and hugs him without prompting. His massive frame dwarfed his boy as he held him close.

Chase freezes for a split second before he quickly latches on tight to his dad's shirt like he was a little kid again. He certainly felt that small in this moment. Shoulders shaking with a cocktail of anger, fear, and despair, Chase lets out one sob into his father's broad chest. 

"You-" Chase swallows thickly, "You can't let Stacy be alone, okay?" He begs his father. "Please don't let her go hungry or leave her alone to suffer. Please. Do whatever you can to support them. I won't be able to now but I promised her. Please, Dad…" 

Chase doesn't hear a word but can feel his father nod against his head and hold his son tighter. 

Chase's father, in many ways, could be described as built like a boulder. Both in stature and in the amount of words typically spoken. He has always been a man of very few words, even more so when Chase's mother passed away a few years ago. They never needed many words to communicate between them. But at this moment, the father speaks to his child.

His rumbling voice coming from deep in his chest, he says, "You're strong and resourceful, Chase. Find an axe or a knife." The older man pulls away to look Chase in the eye. People always said Chase got so much of his mother in him. Does his dad see her when he looks at him? "Never forget your roots." He places a broad hand on his son's chest, "Your roots grow deep and sturdy here in Seven. Whatever you show out there, never lose touch with who you are and where you came from." 

Chase blinks away his tears, "Only one person lives, Dad."

His father lowers his gaze for a moment before looking back up, "Then be the one who walks out." He said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Chase wished he believed that it could ever be that easy.

They sat quietly together for the remaining time on the couch, the older man's arm around Chase's shoulders as he listened to his dad's steady heartbeat. It was over way too fast- Chase quickly hugs his dad again and they whisper "I love you" to each other before the older man is taken away. 

The silence in the room is deafening.

Chase is starting to fiddle with the simple metal band around his finger when a peacekeeper opens the door and Stacy does her best to run to him while seven months pregnant. 

They clutch each other tight and Chase feels her sobs racking her whole body. He gently strokes her hair and hushes her before pulling her back and firmly holding her shoulders.

“Stacy, hey, look at me. You don’t let her take out any tesserae okay? You do not let her take anything from them." Stacy begins to protest but Chase keeps going. "I’ve already asked my dad but I'm also gonna ask my mentor to take care of you. If I get in good with him, maybe he’ll take pity on you. Give you bread and stuff.” Chase rattled off every last thing he could think of. Anything Stacy needed to know as thick tears pooled in her eyes.

"Chase please-" She begins to plead but Chase takes her face in his hands and she places her hands over top of his.

"Sell all of my stuff the moment you hear my cannon."

"Stop-"

"Everything. Clothes, furniture, my tools. Everything, Stacy. You get as much money as you can and you save it all for her, okay? My carving tools are worth a decent amount, don't settle for less than what they're worth."

Stacy shook her head at every word Chase said, not wanting any of it to be true. "No. No, No, No, NO, NO!! STOP THAT!! Just an hour ago you said it would be okay- That we would be together and okay! You can't go! I refuse to have our baby grow up without a father!" Stacy cries and pleads, weakly pounding a fist against Chase's chest, knowing it won't do her any good, but it's one thing she feels she can control at this moment. 

"Starlight," Chase implores, feeling his heart break as he watches Stacy go quiet when he gently holds her wrists, "I'm... I'm so sorry." He barely whispers but clears his throat, resting his forehead against hers, "I'm so sorry this is happening. But it's out of our hands." Chase slides one hand from Stacy's wrist to her stomach, gently resting it over the baby bump and rubbing his thumb over it like he always did. 

He steels himself. He can't leave her. Not alone like this. He will not leave her behind like her father did to her family. He promised he would be a better man than that. But did he really have a chance..? He certainly didn't have a choice.

"You can win." Stacy starts, and Chase looks back up at her eyes her beautiful brown eyes with flecks of gold in them when the sun hits just right. "You're good with an axe. I've seen you throw them in the backyard with Birch. You're strong and fast on your feet, and I've seen you climb trees faster than a squirrel. Hell- you're 18, as old as any career. I genuinely think you have a shot of winning, Chase." Stacy's voice was firm, much more confident than Chase felt about himself despite tears rolling down her cheeks. But at this moment, he believes her. "You have to win." She swallows hard, "You have to come back home." 

Chase slowly nods. He barely gets his voice to cooperate enough to say, "Okay." Before he pulls her in for a kiss. He tries to tell himself it won't be the last one, but he still attempts to pour all of his heart and love into this one kiss. 

When they break away, Stacy pulls off the ring Chase gave her just over an hour before. He's confused when she presses the piece of jewelry into his palm and closes his fist around it, "You're bringing this back to me. And if you don't, I'll kill you." She said, and Chase almost laughed in disbelief. This is why he fell in love with this woman. He takes his simple band off his own finger and trades it to her. Quickly going to the couch to grab his reliable thick gray flannel and wrapping it around her much smaller shoulders, and kisses her again. She clutches the ring tight in her hand and the flannel close like a security blanket as she kisses him back.

"I love you so much, Stacy."

"I love you, too.” She gasps at a sudden thought, “What do we name her?" Stacy asks quickly and Chase panics, distantly hearing peacekeeper boots coming their way.

They had discussed name ideas before, but he wanted to wait and actually see his baby's eyes before making a choice. But if he never got the chance to do so- Chase has to think quickly. They don't know 100% if it will be a girl, but if she is then what do they name her? Think, Brody, think-

The door handle begins to turn and Chase hugs his girl, almost crushing her to his chest as he blurts out the first name that came to his mind, "Willow." 

Stacy nods and clings tightly to him. The peacekeepers come in and all too quickly she is being pulled away from him. He wants to shove them off her. She is crying, screaming "I love you so much!" as they drag her away. Chase calls back to her, but the door is slammed shut in his face.

He tries to go for the handle, but he hears the deadbolt coldly thunk into place. He slams his fist against the hardwood before pressing his forehead against it in defeat.

Chase desperately goes to the window to try and see her again, but the shutters are also locked tight. He feels like screaming again. His eyes burned but he swallowed tightly around the lump in his throat. Goodbye…

One more person comes to see him. 

His best friend, Birch, is a tall twig of a person who fits their namesake almost scarily well. Pale skin with darker patches around their eyes and mouth, and scattered across their arms and legs. Dark hair and matching black eyes, they wore an orange flannel normally but today it was just a gray button-up and a somber expression to match. Birch had been Chase's closest buddy growing up, despite how little they spoke. Chase never minded, he was good at talking enough for the both of them and Birch was a great listener.

They don't hug, but Birch reaches their hand out and Chase clasps their arms together in a tight grip.

"I'll watch out for her," Birch mumbled, already knowing what Chase was going to ask of them. They were always a soft-spoken person. Chase compared their voice to a gentle breeze once and Birch just shrugged, outwardly indifferent but Chase could tell they appreciated the compliment. 

"You mean that?"

Birch nodded, serious. "Her. The ankle biter. And your old man. I'll make sure they're taken care of if your dad slips up somewhere."

Chase let out a steady breath. Birch has always had Chase's back ever since Chase pulled their little brother out of the river, the one where they floated the trees to the lumber mill. The peacekeepers did nothing and the boy would have been crushed between massive logs if Chase didn't go after him. Guess this debt will finally be paid off in Birch's eyes if they do this for him. "Thank you," Chase says sincerely. Birch just nods again.

And that was it. Birch left as quietly as they came. No lingering. No tearful goodbyes. Just a promise to set Chase's mind at ease.

It's probably better this way. Birch always got uncomfortable when people cried.

Chase is then whisked away to the train station, several cameras pointed right at him and the other tribute girl as they get ushered onto the car like cattle heading to the slaughterhouse. Chase does have half a mind to smile and wave for the people across the country watching the broadcast, giving a small wave goodbye to his home as they stepped onto the train. He hoped they all didn't notice how puffy his eyes were or how clenched his jaw was.

The games have already begun.

°○°○°○°

Chase enters the dining car and looks out the window one last time at his district. He scanned the crowds who were seeing them off, waving goodbye but knowing in the back of his mind that he wouldn't see Stacy standing among them. No, Birch has probably escorted her back home by now and is trying in vain to comfort her.

The thought of Stacy when Birch inevitably has to leave, in her empty house crying, sets him on edge again. Chase stalks up and down the dining car like a caged animal, not even noticing the incredible speed of the train once it pulled away from his home. The trees stretch on for miles and blur past in a wall of green that Chase can barely register as it takes all of his power not to destroy the table setting. 

Instead of causing total destruction, he sits heavily on one of the plush chairs at the dining table and doubles over himself, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes until he sees stars bursting behind his closed lids. Chase couldn't stop his leg from bouncing if he bothered to try. There was so much rage, fear, and grief pent up inside him that he reconsidered throwing an expensive glass through a window when he heard the mechanical door slide open.

Chase snaps his head up to see the same man who stood with them on the stage. He vaguely realizes this must have been the person who kept a hand on his back so he didn't keel over on the spot.

He wears a rich blue vest with a simple swirling design embroidered into it, a crisp white shirt, and pressed black slacks with matching polished shoes. His black curly hair is tamed back with gel, but the thick curls were already beginning to crack and spring back to life in defiance. It seems like his mustache beat his hair to the punch- being styled to curl at the ends towards his nose. But that's about where the similarities to a potential resident in the Capitol stop. No, Jameson Jackson may have gotten a little plump around the edges with his victor's salaries, but he still had the hands of a worker. And shoulders to match if he didn't actively curl in just slightly enough to appear smaller. Appear more meek. The smile on his face was hardened like it was petrified into place, like a piece of fossilized bark. But his deep blue eyes still seemed kind. 

Chase didn't know what to think of him just yet.

Jameson walked with a limp over to Chase. The cane in his grip was fashioned from a tree branch, lovingly stripped of bark and polished to an almost orange shine. A knot at the top of it acts as the handle for Jameson to grip onto as he reaches his free hand out to gently grip Chase's shoulder.

The man tilts his head to the side while looking down at Chase- he can just catch the sight of a scar under the man's collar even though his black bowtie keeps the shirt closed. Jameson raises his brows in silent question. Chase knows that Jameson knows it's a bitter and dumb question to ask, but he still feels compelled to.

Are you okay?

Chase shakes his head, refusing to let tears fall. The next week is all about impressions. Getting people on your side, making friends with the Capitol scum that are rooting for his death, and placing bets on how fast he’ll die.

Realistically he’ll probably last a few days, but he can’t do anything important like gather food that won’t kill him, or patch up wounds so deep you can see your bones. He’ll make it to the top twelve, maybe ten,  then die a slow, hungry, painful death.

He turns back to Jameson and grabs his hand that rested on his shoulder.

“I have a girlfriend- a fiancée. She’s pregnant with our daughter. I need you to take care of her when I die. I won’t ask for anything else from you. Just please, take care of Stacy Wells.” 

It probably wasn’t the best idea to beg right off the bat, but that’s all Chase could think to do.

Jameson blinks rapidly at Chase's pleading, taking a moment to compose himself from the small outburst before gently removing his hand from Chase's death grip. He begins to use his hands to make movements and strange signs at the younger man but slowly stops when he sees Chase's lost look. Jameson hesitates again, hands hovering in front of him as if he was debating something, before turning and plucking a butter knife from the table behind him. He begins to tap on his cane with the blunt end of the knife and Chase immediately perks up in recognition. 

The quick taps are a bastardized Morse code that the people of District 7 developed as a way of communication to mimic the sound of woodpeckers- and slip conversations past the peacekeepers. Back in the days of the rebellion it was used quite frequently, but now it's mostly reserved for the folks who actually go up the high canopies to strip the branches. Usually to signal for bears or other dangers they spot nearby, but more often than not it is used to warn those goofing off of approaching peacekeepers.

It's by no means a perfect system, it's mostly just a collection of quick and simple phrases. But Jameson taps out a sentence that Chase roughly manages to translate to, "I understand. But first, let's talk." 

Chase nods.

Jameson pulls a chair out and spins it around so he can sit facing the 18-year-old. Once he leans his cane against the side of his chair, he pulls out some strange copper domes that look like a handful of sewing thimbles. He carefully places them on each finger before pressing them all into his scarred palms, causing them all to activate with tiny blue lights all at once.

"Test. Test." 

Chase jumps as a calm robotic male voice speaks from Jameson's breast pocket as he moves his hands to sign.

As Jameson signs, the movements of his hands seem to translate into a digital dialogue. Must be some kind of high-end Capitol tech, Chase wonders how much they cost Jameson. "These things are a huge pain to wear all day, but I will say, it is a nifty bit of equipment." 

“Did-did the Capitol give you those?” Chase curses himself at the question. Of course, he got those from the Capitol, most injured loggers would be lucky to have a decent cane or a wooden appendage if the worse came. Of course, the Capitol gave him everything he needed to communicate, he’s a victor. 

Jameson gave the young man a bemused smile, "Yes they are from the Capitol, but it was my friend from District 3 who designed them himself."

“They look nice at the very least.”  Chase tries to compliment him. If he was going to win Jameson over, he could start by not antagonizing him. But what does he even say? What could he even say? Everything depends on the next few sentences.

“I want to win. But I don’t think I have a good chance. I want to go back home to my family.” 

Jameson's smile slowly drops at Chase's self-doubt and he kicks himself for it, "What makes you so sure you don't have what it takes?"

“I-I’m not a career. And I can’t forage or hunt properly, let alone treat wounds or find water. I’m good with an axe and strong but that’s about it.” Chase runs his hands across the silky tablecloth. It’s a texture unfamiliar to him but it’s nice anyway. He thought it felt as if water was woven into a flexible solid and he could dip his hand through its cool surface.

"Not every winner is a career. Our district has had its fair share of victors, after all." Jameson gives Chase a grin but he immediately drops it when it's returned with a deadpan stare. "There will be a few days of survival and basic weapons training before the games. You have the opportunity to absorb as much knowledge as you can then. But that's not for a few more days. When Ivy comes in we will discuss the next immediate steps. Like what happens when we get to the Capitol."

"What are the next immediate steps? Creating my image or something?" Chase tried hard not to roll his eyes, this was important. Likable and impressionable tributes win, he can't be just another scared kid in makeup, he has to stand out. If they managed to get Stacy's wails on camera maybe that would boost his image? It definitely would be something to talk about. A very pregnant woman crying out for her love to come home to her and their unborn child? Pulls on the heartstrings of even the gruffest lumberjack.

"First step," Jameson reaches over and plucks a small golden puffed pastry drizzled in chocolate from a silver platter, popping it into his mouth, "Enjoy the food. While you can stomach it." Jameson quirks his eyebrow when Chase sends him a scowl, "We have some time. Try to use what we have now to calm your nerves and get some meat on your ribs. We will figure everything out soon."

Enjoy the food? He was going to either be killed or kill children in a week and he was supposed to enjoy the food? That’s it? He was supposed to eat and revel in all the luxury that the oh-so-gracious Capitol provided for him? Chase holds his head in his hands and forces himself to take a few deep breaths. There’s no use getting mad at Jameson after all, he was going to be his only lifeline for the next few weeks. 

The door slides open to the dining car before Chase can reply, and a girl with the most brilliant green eyes Chase has ever seen steps through the door.

"Ah, Ivy!" Jameson signed cheerily, the strange voice box nestled in his breast pocket didn't fully portray his cheer, but Jameson made up for that with his smile alone.

Chase and the girl both jump at the electronic voice. Chase was still not completely used to it. He turns back to see the other half of the team, Ivy, accompanied by the District Seven escort. 

Ivy Cinder stiffens a little but returns a kind smile that doesn't reach her eyes to Jameson, “Hi. Nice to meet you.” She mutters, tucking a stray red curl behind her ear with stiff movements. She was wearing a simple gray dress that she didn't look at all comfortable in, with a green flannel over top with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She was also still wearing logger's work boots that Chase recognized almost immediately.

Ivy looks over at Chase, unsure when he waves to invite her to sit down with them. She walks around the table and sits heavily across from Chase and Jameson. Her leg starts bouncing like crazy immediately as she fidgets with a necklace charm Chase can't make out from his seat. Her shoulders were stiff but Chase could tell she was trying to not make her nerves obvious.

Jameson's shoulders bounce in a silent chuckle, "I know, this thing takes some getting used to. I tried talking to my good friend Henrik about changing the voice audio but he-” Their mentor looks between the two tributes who were staring at him with blank looks and his smile falters. There is a beat of awkward silence before Jameson's face turns to soft sorrow, "I know it does not mean much, especially coming from me, but I am so sorry this has happened to you both." Jameson glances at the district escort before continuing, "This isn't going to be easy, but me and Miss. Whisper here are going to do everything we can to help you." 

"That is absolutely right!" The Capitol woman who was to be their escort, Teefee Whisper, clapped with glee while taking her seat next to Ivy in a puff of magenta glitter. Chase could see Ivy was trying her best to not make a face about the cloud of shimmering plastic particles that went everywhere. "I'm here to make sure we are all happy and punctual to get where we need to go. Oh! And I'm SO happy that I get to teach you proper etiquette! Ah! It will be just..." Teefee pauses a moment to search for the correct word and her face brightens with a snap of her perfectly manicured fingers, "Exceptional!" 

Jameson smiles very patiently at the Capitol woman, "Indeed." He turns back to Chase and Ivy with his expression more serious again, "As your mentor, it is my job to help you from the sidelines while you are in the games. Do you both have a general idea of how sponsors work?"

Chase and Ivy both nod and Ivy subtly scoots away from Teefee, not wanting any glitter to touch her. Chase has watched people come back from the dead thanks to sponsors. Some water or food or even a simple set of matches made all the difference. 

"I don't think Ivy will have difficulty with sponsors. I've seen her make friends with even the grouchiest of the lumberjacks." Chase says.

Ivy raises an eyebrow in surprise at his praise, "I highly doubt the other districts will see that as a strength-” Ivy says, idly rubbing her thumb against her token as she grins a little, "But the loveable sunshine girl and the determined father-to-be sound good together, I think.”

Even if Chase thought Ivy wasn't going to last long, she was certainly going to be a Capitol favorite. If Chase showed them all that they were a team, a duo, maybe some of Ivy's sponsors could roll over to him. And talking about Stacy and Willow would definitely help too. Everyone loves a baby after all.

Jameson nods while listening to the both of them, "Yes, we can definitely work with that. It helps that we won't have to reach too far to carve out a personality for the cameras.” He leans back in his seat a bit, “Just remember that this is all a big show. We will coach you later for the interview, but as soon as we pull into the station in the Capitol, consider yourselves on camera until the games are over. Start building up what you want the sponsors to see as soon as the train stops. Typically sponsors want to spend their money on someone who they think has a chance of winning, or that they want to see win because they take a shine to their personality," Jameson leans forward again for more emphasis that the digital voice can't portray, "Show them that your life is worth investing in." 

When Ivy doesn't respond either, Chase assumes that she was also chewing on the weight of Jameson's words. Pretending to be something other than your true self so people can sit back and daintily throw their money at the ones who they think are the most deadly, funny, or attractive? That if they don't perform for their amusement it could mean the difference of a struggling life or a slow and cruel death. They have to prove to these complete strangers that their life is worth something.

A hard glare fixes itself between Chase's eyebrows as a literal banquet is set in front of everyone. He had half a mind to not eat a single bite, but the wafting smells of fresh sourdough bread, beef and vegetable stew, and an array of cheeses and pastries- it could make any man break, and Chase's mouth is a dam ready to burst. His stomach betrayed him further as it growled. He couldn't be too embarrassed for himself because Ivy's stomach echoed his.

The two of them share a look before they simultaneously give a snicker, serving themselves towering plates of bread and cheese with bowls of thick soup the size of their heads.

The tributes haven't eaten this well in... ever. And everything is delicious. Chase has to force himself to slow down or else he fears being sick. But once the main course was finished he dragged over the bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries.

Chase almost melted as the mix of bittersweetness hit his tongue. It was incredible. But it was Capitol food, he reminded himself after the third strawberry, pitching the leafy greens at one of the flower vases in the middle of the table.

“Ivy’s also really smart.” Chase says in between bites of another berry, “I’m good with an axe but she knows how to forage and stuff.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, red juice staining his skin, "I think if we trade knowledge we have a chance to make it far.”

But Chase knows making it far counts for nothing. Doesn’t matter if you die first or last, you’ll be in the Capitol’s coffin either way. A vague memory in the short-term minds of frivolous people lost to time. You needed to win. You needed to come first in order to be seen.

Ivy pauses stuffing her face with warm bread and various cheeses, her freckled cheeks turning a bit red. "Hey give yourself some credit, Brody! Any skill is a good skill in some way and I know you have some." Ivy says in between bites, taking her first sip from a mug filled with something sweet and inspiring delight in her eyes, "What do you know about hunting?"

“I uh, I don’t know too much about hunting. But like I said I’m good with an axe. I can throw them pretty far and with decent accuracy.”

He looks to Jameson for… something, and just finds him listening to them talk while sipping a very ornate-looking cup of tea.

Chase looks over the banquet laid out for him and grabs another sandwich and shoves it in his mouth bitterly.

“Can you climb?” Teefee pipes up cheerily, wanting to be a part of the conversation but obviously not knowing that much about which district she's talking to. Obviously, all kids from District 7 knew how to scale up trees as fast as squirrels, with little need for equipment like them as well. Guess the woman didn't do her homework before coming.

“Uh yeah, I guess. I’m pretty decent with a throw weight as well. I used to help cut some of the branches up high when I was a kid. And I can tie some pretty decent knots.”

Jameson nods approvingly, and turns back to Ivy, giving a gesture as a general prompt, What about you?

Ivy perks up mid-chewing on some meat and wipes her mouth clean. "I'm fast, a good hider, and good at throwing an axe, same as Chase. My dad taught me how to hunt with a crossbow and my older sister taught me what herbs to use and avoid. I'm good at climbing too... if I hype myself up."

How in the world did she manage to get her hands on a crossbow?! Chase looks down in his lap as he tries to assess the situation. Fuck. Ivy might have a shot after all. Her survival skills are much better than his, and when it comes down to it, he’ll be relying on her, not the other way around. Especially when it comes to finding food that is actually edible. And when the time comes he knows that she’ll have to be the one to pull the trigger. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit! His one and only plan was crumbling down around him. He’ll be dead in the first three days! He knows it.

Chase wipes a tear from his eye, refusing to show weakness in front of anyone here. He’s gonna die. All because some stupid rebels tried to storm a mountain 37 years ago. He wasn't even born yet when that happened so why does it have to be him paying for what they did?

If Jameson sees Chase crying he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he nods to Ivy, finishes his tea, and carefully puts his thimbles back on after having removed them to eat.

"As I said before, there will be a chance to train for three days before the games. You two can either pool your knowledge and work together, or decide now to train alone. If you do decide to be a team, I suggest that you don't show the other tributes your greatest strengths in the training center.” He explains, “Show them that you are capable of holding your own- hell if you think you're charming enough, make some friends and team up with others." Jameson doesn't look too thrilled at his own idea of teaming up with others, so he adds, "Just don't get too attached. And be careful.

“Excuse me,” Chase says suddenly as he gets up. 

He can’t be here. He can’t be here. He reaches for the door, finding that it opens automatically before he can even find a handle. Chase doesn’t listen to it shut behind him or anybody possibly calling out to him. He’s already taken off looking for a place to cry.

[mockingbirdshymn]

rating camp camp pairings

because i ran out of ideas for posts and saw someone else do this a few years ago so swoop the idea is mine now

nerriston - 10000000/10

i love them. ok. i really do theyre super cool. it make sense like. they have a perfect dynamic. theyre cute. we have magician who has anxiety, cocky loud theatre kid who does not give a shit, and short dnd nerd who would beat your ass and probably carries in all the groceries at once. LIKE. its perfect. it literally is the best

im equally as loving of presner/harriston/nerrison but nerriston is my main otp

presnurf - fuck you/10

hacks gags dies

presmax - 1/10

personally i dont see this? and its not because they havent interacted, mostly because their personalities don't mesh well imo? not to say that opposites don't attract, thats the building ground for so many good ships, but with them its just. kind of just pure annoyance any time they interact. and unlike nerrison, it's not a continuing thing that makes it a rivalry and has layers to it (ex. background interactions, like at the lake lilac summer social), with max and preston its just general annoyance any time they bump into each other.

plus i hc preston to be 14 and max is canonically 10 and while my headcanons arent canon, that interpretation of mine makes it a very much no go for me

neil x harrison - 3/10

not for me, but i can 100% see it

again though, i hc harrison to be 14 and neil is canonically 11, so,,, another dealbreaker for my bc of this headcanon

nerikki - 3/10

definitely compatible, and if it werent for the fact i have a sturdy hc on cc campers' ages, i feel i could like it?

but 14yo x 10yo is a big nono for me

ered x nikki - 1/10

for me it feels like nikki has a crush on ered in the same way kids tend to have crushes and idolize people older than them. like how someone may like their friend's way older brother, even though hes like 6 years older, but it dies out once they mature and stop idolizing him.

ered is either 15 or 16 in my headcanons, and nikki is canonically 10, so,, nikki can have a crush on ered in the same way kids have crushes on celebrities, but for ered to act on that would be very very bad

ered x nerris - 6/10

can see it, not my favorite, but i can definitely enjoy content from it (like fanart or fics) if its not the main focus.

ered x dolph - 1/10

sir, dolph is like literally the youngest. ered is the oldest pls stop (ik the eggs benefits episode was what started a lot of ships but. but cmon)

honestly though i rlly like the idea of them as older sister younger brother type of dynamic, tho ive not seen many people hc that if any

space kid x dolph - 8/10

i like them as friends more but i can definitely see it and enjoy it!! either romantic or platonic, i really love their (imagined bc they never interact lmfao) dynamic, and theyd mesh together very well personality-wise. both are clueless (dolph because he doesnt pick up on things well/holds a very positive view on everything, and space kid because his brain is like a pinball machine), and both have no friends/are generally excluded from everyone else due to their differences.

makki - 9/10

at first didnt like it at all, i like it now though!! dont have much of a reason for this, just think it's cute. angsty boy and feral girl. max would be moping and nikki would bring him a cool rock and he would not understand why but keep it anyway

maxneil - 10/10

"mandatory gay pairing for every main characters" is what someone from a random youtube video from like 4 years ago would say

though i rlly like it. guy who doesnt care at all and guy who overexplains absolutely everything/cares too much. max would ask a retoric question and neil would go into a ramble. max annoying the absolute shit out of neil and neil just. loudly sighing

neil x nikki - 1/10

i headcanon them as stepsiblings after parents day!! before i used to like it, but the fact their parents boned and nikki discussed being siblings killed that for me

nurf x a cactus - 10/10

he deserves to be prickled

neil x tabii - 1/10

i dont like fics where they're together as adults if im honest. as much as i adore tabii, her borderline obsession with neil makes him uncomfortble and i dont think it'd really be healthy at all. hes made it clear he doesnt like her

max x sasha - 7/10

can def see it! two bitchy assholes, though i dont like the idea all too much. would need someone else in the relationship to balance it out, or else its just kind of two dicks doing back and forth

pikeman x sasha - 8/10

it would not be healthy but by fucking christ it would be hilarious

sasha would be the gold digger and pikeman wouldnt know how to speak to a woman and it would be great

nikki x sasha - 5 to 8/10

nikki was bullied by sasha a lot, also sasha is kind of a dick, but they could be cute if sasha got over herself and started to be actually decent. with care put into it, it would be cute in a storyline of "girl forced to be perfect her entire life and externalizes this onto others, learns to embrace her true self through realizing that girl who is messy and doesnt care about how she looks is happy"

or maybe i just really like mabel x pacifica. its one or the other

tabii x erin - 8/10

very cute!! i liked how they acted at the end of the lake lilac summer social, but they work more as best friends in my opinion? badass besties who would wingman each other and tell each other everything in sleepovers. but at the same time, i do love gay people.

erin x neil - 7/10

SIGH if only erin got more character development. it could have been very cute. mostly because erin deserved someone who liked her for something other than her loks, which shed been pressured to prioritize just all of the time. also neil and erin could bounce ideas off each other?? and once more, pathetic bf x badass gf

erin x snake - 2/10

there wasnt much between them outside of "omg hes cute" without much emotion put into it, yk? which is funny because i like snake x tabii which wasnt too different but whatever

snake x tabii - 8/10

TABII WAS A DICK TO HIM BUT OH MY GOD IT WOULD BE SO CUTE

forever crying about that. they would go so well together????? tabii deserves someone who thinks shes pretty i really like tabii and she and snake would be badasses together and i and i and i

pikeman x snake - 3/10

do not like it personally. mostly because pikeman's an asshole but yk

camper x counselor - wtf/10

daniel x david - 4/10

definitely not for me!! can be cute i guess, especially in aus where daniel isnt a cultist, but i dont think david would ever fall for a child murderer

david x gwen - 20/10

i love them. i love them so much. goes into my favorite trope of badass wife x too scared to ask for katchup at a ristraunt husband

david x jasper - 10/10

pre-jasper death only. post-jasper death and thats creepy because jasper is literally still a child

pre-jasper death and in aus where jasper lives, i will gobble that shit up like a starving turkey. i literally love it so much. like??? i cant explain why. plus ive read so many good fics with it that i am unable to hate it.

gwen x jen - 3/10

jen has appeared a total of one time for exactly 5 seconds. but in aus where shes given a character and isnt a murderer then i think it could work

daniel x jen - 5/10

never interacted (as if im one to talk with my nerriston bullshit) but cultist x cultist can be made interesting

cameron x priss - 9/10

could either be 1 of 2 things

your grandparents that keep fighting all of the time but love each other

two irresponsible grandparents that teach the child how to make an explosive

they seemed to have a sort of romantic connection and it wasnt all sexual attraction, and cameron's fear of comitment was the only thing really stopping them from enjoying a presumably happy and healthy marriage

platypus x food - 10/10

a match made in heaven

[kariachi]

What's beneath the cut is very Gwen&Ben-negative. This is your warning,

So, last night my brain meandered over to the plethora of 'Devlin is Gwen's' works out there, more specifically the ones that try to fit that into an otherwise canon-compliant Ken 10. Annoys the piss out of me, personally, because I've seen more than a few say it's canon because Gwevin despite the information we get in the the show itself, but que sera sera. But my brain continued onward into 'what would we do'? If we were told 'Gwevin is canon, therefore Gwen is Devlin's mother, now rewrite Ken 10 with that in mind', what would we put out?

Regular readers of this blog, especially those who know my spiteful nature, may see where this is gonna go....

So, we start off, we're building off Gwen's shit in the sequels, where she's clearly of the opinion that it's fine to use violence against your partner when you're unhappy with them. I've said before that someone who pulls some of the shit she does as openly and in front of others as she does sure as fuck ain't a saint behind closed doors, and I've mentioned before that her actions seem to get bolder over time.

Piece one of the episode then- Gwen has continued on her 'totally not abuse because Kevin is sturdy and 'deserves' it' bullshit, primarily in 'small' but regular acts rather than big displays.

"Okay Achi," I hear you say, "but a big part of the plot of the episode is Devlin releasing his dad from the Null Void, he can't do that if his dad is at home getting knocked around." To which I say two things- 1) Kevin is openly a 'they hurt my loved ones I hurt them' sort of person; 2) people who knock around their partners are more likely to also knock around their children.

Piece two of the episode- After a point Gwen started in on Devlin and Kevin lost his fucking shit.

So we get two birds with one stone- Kevin is in the Null Void because the Tennysons essentially are the local law enforcement and nobody is going to side with the ex-con who got violent with his Good and Heroic wife no matter what his side of the story is. Devlin wants to get his father out because anyone who was on Kevin's side in the whole mess got cut out, his mom's abusing him, and the adults in his life aren't going to do anything about it unless he starts walking around with black eyes and shit to make it glaring obvious she's not just a overworked single mom doing what she can to to keep Kevin Levin's kid on the right track- boy yearns for the dad he knows is gonna take his side.

So we get our background and our Devlin motivation. But this is a Kenny-focused episode, so where are we getting our shit there?

We don't need time with Kenny and Devlin meeting and making friends, they're family they already know each other and are close, and we don't need the background 'hey it's my birthday' stuff. So, we focus more on Kenny growing as a person.

We start with Kenny and Devlin running around, being kids. This lets us 1) establish them as being close, 2) establish Kenny's desire to be a hero like Ben prior to things going wrong, 3) lay the groundwork for the smack of 'yeah no the shit Gwen does is abuse' later on (personally I'd go with a more straight-laced Devlin who very clearly doesn't want to get dragged into anything that might upset his mom, maybe have him torn whether getting involved in shit or not helping someone would be the wrong call), and 4) potentially allows us to give Devlin what at first seems like a morbid fascination with the Null Void, blamed on trauma in relation to his dad snapping and getting thrown in there as a result.

We take the time to establish Kenny and Devlin, their relationship, and also the time to establish Ben, where he is now, how his son looks up to him, and his relationship with the kids.

Relatively early in the episode we get to see Devlin free Kevin from the Null Void, who- rather than starting shit- grabs his kid and bolts.

The next morning there's phone calls about 'have you seen Devlin', people find out Kevin's free and has him, Ben and Gwen go off to get him while insisting Kenny stay behind because Kevin is dangerous.

Kenny, in proper child hero fashion, does not listen. His dear friend is in danger and he's going to help.

I'm picturing Kenny finding them first and trying to sneak Devlin off when Kevin isn't looking, only to be thoroughly confused when Devlin staunchly refuses to go back, telling Kenny to just go home before vanishing off with his dad again.

There's a lot of fighting and arguing once the adults clash. I've got two specific images in my head- one of Kevin telling Devlin to stay safely out of the way and getting even more pissed at Gwen when he doesn't even hesitate to listen because that's not healthy Levin behavior and he's met enough of them to know it's not healthy Tennyson behavior either, and one 'moment of brevity' case of Kenny trying to help in the fight only to 1) be very out-classed, Kevin's already holding his own against two seasoned heroes who know how he works Kenny is not gonna do anything, and 2) merely prompt the adults to start doing fucking bizarre maneuvers to fight around him while all three urge him to get out of the fucking line of fire.

But what hits Kenny, and that's the important part is hitting Kenny in all the character growth spots, is that the arguing is about Kevin taking Devlin, and Kevin's snapping against Gwen, but also involves a lot of Kevin accusing Gwen of abuse and Ben of enabling her, holding that up as the reason he did what he did, while Ben and Gwen's responses really just boil down to 'you are and were overreacting, you've gone too far, we had faith in and defended you and you tried to put the person who loves you most in traction'.

Then you add on him eventually abandoning the fight to try again with getting Devlin out of there and to safety and having him snap, not violently but emotionally, and confirm what Kevin's been saying. His mom has been abusing him, everybody seems to just ignore it or not notice, and he just wants to not deal with that anymore. He wants his dad, who he knows won't stand by and let it happen from prior experience, and he wants to be the fuck away from his mom.

And this right here is the exact point where Kenny learns and grows. He's been questioning since that first attempt to save Devlin what exactly is going on, he's been confused and concerned about the accusations being thrown around by the adults, and here is where he learns two important lessons and chooses the path he's going to take.

His dad isn't a paragon of heroics, the adults in his life can and will make bad decisions and do bad things, even if they're otherwise wonderful, and so he's going to have to align his own moral compass.

Being a hero isn't just about stopping crimes and fighting bad guys.

In the end, Kenny 'messes up', 'accidentally' giving the Levins a prime opportunity to escape, and the three of them all know it. Kevin ruffles his hair, Devlin and him exchange a quick hug, and then they're gone. Kenny doesn't know where, doesn't know if he'll ever see Devlin again, as he leaves with his dad and aunt he can only cross his fingers and hope they end up safe and happy.

End episode.

Now that I write it out, really I think this version would do better not as a one-off in Ben's show but as a season one finale or season two premiere in Kenny's. It would give a whole season in which to establish and build up Kenny and Devlin's bond, to lay the groundwork for the reveal of the truth about Devlin's homelife and for his freeing Kevin, to get Ben established on a pedestal, establish people's opinions on what goes on with Gwen and Devlin prior to the big episode.

(Gwen's staunch belief that she's just preventing Devlin from going down the wrong path like his dad did, especially after having 'failed' with Kevin himself, unable or unwilling to admit that she slipped passed that excuse and into 'and it's cathartic' years before Devlin was even born || Ben admitting wholeheartedly that Gwen can be rough with people, but insistence that what she does isn't abuse, only accentuated by feelings of regret and responsibility re: her being a single mother, since Kevin is his enemy, leading to him cutting her even more slack than he would anyway and making excuses involving how hard raising a superpowered kid alone is || Kenny, not entirely oblivious to what's going on but unknowing of the severity and, between his father's assurances that everything is fine and media's portrayal of abuse as a raised fist or neglect- neither of which he's seen- that what Devlin is dealing with is abuse at all || Devlin with his million conflicting feelings, loving his mother but- without the age, experience, and issues of his father- walking on eggshells at home, hating what he's going through, guilt because he knows other people's parents treat them worse, guilt because he knows his dad snapped out of a desire to protect him, a myriad of worth and confidence issues his mom just can't seem to figure out the source of, all heightening as the first season goes on and Kenny drags him into more trouble, increasing the odds of shit going poorly at home, until he finally can't take it-)

It would also give plenty of time following the episode to build off what Kenny's learned and see how it affects how he approaches heroing from then on. How he questions what the adults say, investigates things himself to make his own decisions. How he steps away from trying to help his dad in fighting bad guys in favor of keeping his eyes open for people in need of help that he may otherwise have overlooked.

Kenneth Tennyson, using his transformations to do shit like help in soup kitchens, no less a hero than his dad for it.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #3

Devil May Cry - #3 - Impaled

*

“No. Absolutely not. The last three times you’ve picked the dinner place, we’ve had pizza,” Nero said.

“And? Not seeing the problem here, kid,” Dante said.

“Some of us want real food, Dante,” Vergil said.

“You know you’re making bad decisions when I’m siding with Vergil,” Nero said. 

Dante waved his hand dismissively. “When it’s your turn to pick dinner, we can get…I don’t know, Italian or whatever it is you eat.”

“You’re just saying that so you can order a fucking pizza!” Nero said.

“Do you revel in being vulgar?” Vergil said.

“Fuck you, and fuck your brother, and fuck his pizza,” Nero said.

“Back on my side!” Dante said triumphantly. 

“Hardly. He was insulting you, too,” Vergil said. 

“Well, yea, but he only did it to piss you off,” Dante said.

“I cannot wait to leave this place and not see either of you for as long as physically possible,” Vergil announced. 

“So, like, an hour,” Nero said. “If we’re lucky. It’s almost like someone summoned a giant demonic tree in the middle of the city and unleashed a ton of demons on it.”

Dante caught Vergil’s wrist as he reached for the Yamato. “No, no, don’t kill him. He’s got a point.”

“Will you both be quiet?” Vergil said. “And pay attention. The structural damage to this building was severe. The last thing we need is for one of you idiots to cave in the floor.”

“Idiots! He revels in being vulgar,” Dante said, and Nero snickered. 

Vergil ignored them and kept walking. The two were beginning to joke with each other, probably at Vergil’s expense, their quiet laughter filling the otherwise silent building.

Dante made an odd noise and Nero began laughing loudly, smacking Dante in the arm repeatedly. Vergil glared at them in irritation.

He didn’t understand it. Yes, Nero had known Dante longer. But they were…close. They cared for each other. They got along well.

He would’ve suspected Dante was the boy’s father. They acted more like father and son than Vergil could ever dream of between himself and Nero. 

No, it didn’t matter. Nero might be his, but he’d only met the boy recently. They were practically strangers, even after working together frequently to clean up the mess Vergil had caused. 

Strangers.

Vergil had a family again, but he was still on his own.

He shook it off for now. Nothing to be done about it; Nero clearly preferred the company of his uncle to that of his father. So be it. It was certainly nothing new. Dante had always been the more liked of the twins. 

They were halfway across the room, Nero and Dante laughing together again, when the floor gave out.

It was sudden, just an alarming rumble before the whole thing gave out. Nero jerked forward, trying to catch Dante’s arm.

Vergil grabbed Nero around the chest and threw him clear of the cave-in, barely managing to use his momentum to get himself clear. He hit the ground hard, immediately dragging himself away from the crumbling floor.

“Dante!” Nero cried, running back at the hole in the floor.

Vergil caught him again. “Stop! The structure is compromised! We cannot be reckless.”

“But-” Nero was anxious, eyes locked on the hole. “Fine. Yea, fine. But we need to go check on that idiot.”

Vergil slowly released him. When Nero didn’t dart off again, Vergil dusted himself off and cautiously moved to the edge. Nero followed him, both ready to spring away if their weight caused more of the floor to break off.

Vergil found a sturdy spot near the edge to gain a little pressure on. He leapt forward and into the hole, catching himself on a piece of rubble.

“Nero,” he called.

Nero jumped down a moment later, Vergil ready to grab him if he slipped towards the protruding support beams on the ground. Nero looked around, eyes going wide.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, rushing forward.

Vergil turned and froze. Dante laid sprawled along the ground, hands weakly prying at his neck.

His neck, which had been impaled by a thin yet sturdy metal pole.

Nero dropped to his knees at Dante’s side, pushing his hands away to inspect the injury. “Shit. Vergil!”

Vergil forced himself to get moving. Dante would be fine. Yes, it looked bad, but the bastard had been through worse and come out annoyingly fine.

Only as Vergil moved closer, he realized Dante was wheezing for breath, blood spurting from where the pole protruded from his throat. Nero had gotten his hand around it, trying to stop the bleeding without causing Dante more pain.

“Vergil, what do we do? How do we help him?” Nero demanded, voice tight with worry.

Vergil knelt beside him and unthinkingly placed a hand on Nero’s shoulder. “Move your hand. Let me see.”

Nero moved his hand away, revealing how bad the damage was. Vergil grimaced and gestured for Nero to cover it again.

“Quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Dante,” Vergil said. “Nero, we’ve got to get him off of it. If he takes his devil form quick enough, he should be able to heal.”

“Should?” Nero said.

“I’ve stabbed him before and he lived. I’m basing my theory on that,” Vergil said. At Nero’s expression, Vergil couldn’t help but feel…well, a little bad. “He’s survived worse, Nero.”

“You better survive this, you asshole,” Nero said to Dante. “And then I’m never letting you live it down. You hear me? I’m telling Trish and Lady all about your dumbass falling and getting impaled through the throat.” 

Nero looked over, startled. Vergil was confused at first, until he realized, with a shock of embarrassed horror, that he’d squeezed Nero’s shoulder. He hastily dropped his hand. 

“Get your hands under his head. Dante.” Vergil slapped Dante’s cheek - light enough that Nero didn’t whine about him doing it - and grabbed his shoulders. “Dante can you hear me? We’re going to pry you off this pole. You need to take your devil form.” 

He couldn’t tell whether Dante was responsive or not. He refused to acknowledge the spike of worry in his own chest. Bad enough to deal with Nero’s anxiety. 

“Ready?” Vergil said to Nero.

“Come on, you bastard. I just…dammit, Dante, I just got a family back,” Nero said, shifting his hands under Dante’s head. “Get up, you lazy asshole.” 

Vergil took a steadying breath, because that spark was catching and growing inside of him. Dante looked…bad. 

“On the count of three,” Vergil said.

“Right,” Nero said.

“One…”

It had to work.

“Two…”

If it didn’t…

“Three!”

Vergil and Nero couldn’t lose anyone else.

[saltymongoose]

Hey Salty! I made a Birb AU for yer SAM:PN

Basically, the Player who's also a bird handler for a wildlife sanctuary happened to get into a situation where the bois turned into Birbs for who knows how long.

They pretty much constantly wear their protective bird gear as to not get clawed in by the bois who constantly try to perch somewhere on Reader, with Hank as the biggest offender.

As for reasons the kind of birbs they are;

Hank's a Harpy Eagle cause of how they're really strong and big, being known as one of the strongest birds of prey on earth.

Sanford and 2BDamned are both owls bc of their canonically similar body builds.

Sanford being a Snowy Owl cause of how they square up and win against many different opponents. Snowy Owls can and will pretty much fight against animals bigger than them.

2BDamned being a Great Horned Owl being similar to Sanford. Stronk bois and their whole vibe of being intelligent and shit. It just fits him really.

Deimos as a Peregrine Falcon cause of him being a quick lil guy yet still dangerously good at his whole killing thing yanno?

Sorry if this doesn't make much sense lol. Not the best at describing things the way I wann'em too

(Harpy Eagles are so hard to draw. Also, sorry if Deimos is a lil too bright. I'll likely try to fix it later)

Omg! This is fantastic, I absolutely love it. <33333 You were spot on with your analysis of which bird they should be, with how Sanford and 2B would be owls because of their similar body builds while Dei is a peregrine falcon because of his speed. Hank being a Harpy Eagle is just such a good idea too, considering their size and how they excel at hunting.

This drawing is also really cute too, especially since you included their masks and other unique details. They're honestly just really adorable, even if their constant attempts to perch on you could get a little annoying. I can definitely tell why the Player had to use special protective gear since I don't think having four large birds of prey on you would be very light haha.

Speaking of the Player, while I'm not sure how the boys would end up as birds, it certainly wouldn't stop their attempts to "cuddle" with you. If anything, it just might make them do it more; it's not like Doc can do any work without hands, and the boys probably aren't effective at their missions like this (unless we're talking recon, cause who'd suspect a bird of spying on them). So now you have to deal with four huge birds attempting to take your attention, usually by perching on your arms and shoulders or barrelling into your lap so you can pet them. I can also see them attempting to impress you by flying and doing some tricks they figure out (mainly Deimos, but Hank definitely isn't opposed to doing the same).

(Although, they probably wouldn't have the best grasp of flying once they're first turned. Watching them crash goes from funny to horrifying real quickly once you realize just how brittle their now-hollow bones are. Luckily for you, they're quite sturdy, but it's not like they're unwilling to play up any injuries they might get just to feel you touching them and have you looking them over for longer.)

Also, I can see them just randomly attacking grunts if you have to go out (to get them food, no doubt) and someone is stupid enough to get in your way. Like imagine just being an agent and trying to capture this target the Auditor apparently needs back, only to be swarmed by four birds; having their talons claw into you as they peck at your visual cross and screech at you. And then having to explain to your supervisor why you're covered in so many bloody scratches and without the "Player."

You'd also probably have to explain to Jebus what happened because I think he'd probably be furious to find you without anybody for protection if he visits one day. He'd understand at the look of the odd birds who hang around you though, but you might have to stop Hank from trying to mess with him once he gets too close to your personal bubble. (And don't even get me started on Tricky; it's hard to kill him as a grunt, but Hank's not above trying even if he's not one anymore.)

[richardazer]

im not sure if youve done this already but can we get some GazPrice headcannons? (with Fin the SD ofc)

OMG OMG YES!!!

Warning before I start the madness, I don't have much headcanon about the actual game world, I do not like military shit so everything I have is off duty or my AUs

Also I've never done this before, my ideas aren't really coherent but I hope I can satisfy with what I have :3

First lets start with the Fin time-line:

For those who haven't seen I've posted art of Gaz, Price and John's service dog Fin.

HCs:

Gaz went into the job expecting not to make it, he was prepared to be damaged, either physically or mentally so he took really good care of himself

Price was the opposite, he thought he was strong and untouchable but with each dead comrade his mind began taking a lot of damage

I like making strong men pathetic and weak so that was the reason Gaz caught Price's eye. Price noticed a sturdy, strong, safe oasis in the middle of battlefield, that's why he was drawn to him and Gaz quickly became his favorite because he wanted to make the world a better place and was ready to change the world with his own hands

Obviously after working for so long they got closer and closer and Gaz couldn't NOT fall for soft papa bear that Price turned out to be off duty hehhe

Kyle single handedly dragged him into therapy because he was the only one who saw how much weight and damage John was carrying on his shoulders

Obviously with so much support work became easier to handle but years of trauma aren't going to go away and Kyle can't be the only one to take care of the old man lol

Fin was recommended by Price's therapist and she is his helper on base

Off duty Price gets to let go and not be ashamed of ptsd because he has people who will help and support him through it, just like he supported them for all these years

I think at some point Price would be permanently moved to base because he's no longer fitted for the battlefield

(you can clearly see I have 0 idea of how military works nor do I know the game's lore lol)

Fin is there to guide him in the buildings, lead him to quiet places when he's stressed, remind him to take breaks (Price is a workaholic). I don't know much about ptsd dogs so Fin headcanons need me to do a lot of research before even attempting to write them down. (I'm so sorry there's not much for Fin 😭)

As for personalities or little silly ideas:

John is a big softie who tries so hard to fit in and be a dad to everyone, got his piercings during his relationship with Gaz (cried when getting his helix) he's always trying to be on the same wave as Gaz and ends up learning so much internet slang because of it, never uses it properly on purpose to make Kyle laugh his ass off. Gaz makes him learn kpop dances (Gaz and Ghost are very big twice fans shhh)

Gaz is very much stuck being a boy. He's very serious when needed to be but the rest of the time he's a silly goofy spoiled babygirl. Got his piercings right after getting into 141 as celebration, hid them from Price and Laswell very well for 2 months and then forgot to change them to silicone studs one day and got caught. Soap is his buddy and they run around pranking people and constantly compete with each other on who can burp the loudest

They love talking care of each other and Kyle is especially in love with captain's beard so when they have time they let themselves groom each other like cats, aka Gaz takes good care of John's beard using a brush and oils and giving the man a massage. In return Price takes care of Kyle's body, his rough strong careful hands are perfect for giving the younger man a proper relaxing massage

Gaz's teasing nature really blooms with Price because he knows that he can get away with so much. Throwing a joke or flirting here and there or just straight up touching Price has only good consequences for Kyle. Price adores him to no end and always asks for his view on almost any situation. John is all ears all the time because he loves his voice and genuinely wants to know what Gaz is thinking about. Even picking ice-cream flavors or a movie to watch becomes a very deep philosophical dialog

They don't tend to argue, even during missions it's aggressive dialogs instead of fighting. Gaz knows Price is the captain and he has so much more hand on experience and Price knows that Gaz would have a fresher, modern, more flexible view on the situation. Gaz is very observant and Price is constantly amazed at his ability to see the whole picture

More interesting headcanons from my chainsaw man AU if yall interested:

Gaz is a hunter/hunt devil because only humans hunt for fun and people are terrified of getting hunted >:3

Price (a human) literally saw him, said "you're pretty cool" and YOINKED him from the fucking government

In the AU the government catches all devils it can to study or use as weapons and since other countries started using devils in battles and just regular humans get into deals with devils to cause terror the government created special forces

141 is a test group lead by John Price and has a lot of powerful devils

Gaz has Makima eyes because I said so they're cool and glow in the dark

His abilities include: night/heat vision, hearing heartbeats and obviously inhuman strength and speed he's the hunt devil after all tracking down pray is so easy

He and Price have a deal no one knows about because all deals with devils must be approved by the government

The deal is that if Price dies so does Gaz so they can be together in hell (this man doesn't know chainsaw man lore either what did you expect lol)

What Price doesn't know is that Gaz spends more time protecting him than completing assignments hehhe

Fun bonus is dumb tiktok audio idea:

- you can hear heartbeats?

- can hear yours too, beating pretty fast~

GAY GAY GAY

alright madness over thanks for reading hope you enjoyed :]