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theostrophywife · 10 months

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chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays.

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick.

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found.

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned.

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life.

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you.

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely.

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?”

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?”

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation.

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.”

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.”

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.”

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave.

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course.

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again.

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem.

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side.

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?”

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot.

“Nice slippers, princess.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?”

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?”

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.”

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.”

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?”

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy.

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon.

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

“I can feed myself, you know.”

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?”

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it.

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?”

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?”

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.”

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?”

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.”

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little.

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.”

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.”

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.”

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?”

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed. It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?”

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.”

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?”

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.”

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.”

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?”

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.”

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.”

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.”

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?”

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.”

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.”

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?”

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.”

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh.

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer.

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?”

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.”

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?”

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

#a cuddle from him could reset my brain chemistry #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff

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yandere--stuck · 3 months

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Imagine confessing to Joker that, sometimes, you do feel a bit crazy. He'd been wheedling it out of you for hours now, continuously and obviously guiding you to the idea that there had to be something special about you to catch his eye. Something about you that stuck out like a sore thumb, and not just to him. Something innate about you that drew him toward you.

“There has to be something, my dear,” Joker had said. “I don't exactly attract the most normal company.”

You tried noncommittal answers at first. Really, the only person who'd know why he'd fallen for you (so he claimed) would be him. And hadn't he claimed to know everything about you already? God only knew how he'd gotten your information, but it didn't surprise you considering the man holding you captive. Even still, The Joker kept pestering you for your thoughts. Your mind was just so fascinating to him.

So, you relented, even if just to appease him. You watched his grin widen, and the smile reached his eyes as they crinkled in delight. The clown hanging onto every word.

Sometimes, you did feel crazy. Like the world didn't really make sense. Everyone else had a set of instructions on how to navigate the world that you never got. How did everybody else know how to start a conversation without a shock of anxiety washing over them? How did others have the ability to get up out of bed when you couldn't find the strength to? How did anybody find consistent meaning and purpose in their lives.

Even when you tried to pretend to be like them, it fell apart so quickly. It was so hard to keep on top of things. So hard to stay organized and stable and motivated. And you were so aware of the act you were putting on. So was everybody else, you were sure of it. You were sure they could tell, as if they thought of you as something not quite human and just something pretending to be. Something to tolerate until it crawled back to where it came from, another failed attempt to infiltrate their ranks.

You didn't even know what made you stand out to The Joker of all people - especially for anything outside of a murder attempt. You purposefully tried not to stand out. It made it harder to detect how different you were so long as you kept your emotions and thoughts close to your chest. No chance for embarrassment if no one ever got close enough to embarrass you again.

Joker raised a hand to stop you, resting his hand on your shoulder. The green of his eyes held surprising softness before flashing with mischief.

“How about we give those fools something to really be scared of?” The Clown flashed a grin, raising a small contraption in his hands.

“What the Hell is that?” You blurted out.

The metal thing was the same size and shape of a small ball, painted an acidic green and electric purple. Wiring covered the thing, either wrapped around the outside or sprouting up like weeds from within. A small LED display screen was centered in the middle, left blank.

“A bomb,” Joker grinned. “I figured it'd be thematically appropriate.”

“Get that thing away from me!”

“Oh, come now, it's not even armed.”

As if to prove his point, Joker tossed the bomb aside, letting it roll across the floor. He paused for a ment, raising a hand to his chin in thought. Then, he seemed to light up, snapping his fingers.

“Oh, of course, you'd want to deal with ‘em up close and personal!” Then, with a flourish, Joker pulled a gun from seemingly out of nowhere. He threw his head back as a chorus of laughter erupted from within.

“Stop!” You spluttered, backing away. “I don't want to hurt anyone!”

Joker stayed put and simply blinked, brows furrowing. He tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because- because you can't just hurt people! It's wrong.”

“No, it's what they told you is wrong,” The Clown's hands balled into fists. “They force you to play by their rules, then punish you for losing at a game you're not designed to win. They wear you down to the bone and know you won't fight back, so they get to walk all over you."

“That's not true.”

“Don't lie to yourself, Darling. I'm saying this all to help you. I want to help you finally fight back. Everything you've gone through has all been leading to this moment.”

“I can't,” You held your ground. “I won't.”

The Clown stared you down. His eyes held an emotion you couldn't quote register. He wasn't frowning exactly, but he certainly wasn't smiling.

You nearly jumped when Joker suddenly crossed the room. The sound of his footsteps mirrored the thundering of your own heartbeat. It muffled all thoughts as electric panic ripped through your veins and left you petrified in place. Not like you could escape, anyway.

You tried to calm your breathing, but hot, panting breaths kept escaping you, chest rising and falling erratically. You could hardly keep yourself composed enough to look him in the eye. And when you did, somehow it was worse than expected. The expression on his face and look in his eyes wasn't one of murderous intent. Not one of rage. Hell, he didn't even look disappointed.

No. His expression was one of pity.

He swept you into an embrace. One arm curled around your back, hand still holding his pistol. You could feel the cold of the metal pressing against the small of your back. Another hand came up to push your head closer to his chest.

Joker lamented. “Oh, my poor little maniac. It's so sad to see what they've done to you. If only I had saved you sooner.”

You didn't respond, hoping the excuse of being smothered into his jacket would be enough for him to not demand a reply. You felt the slow rise of Joker's chest pressing against you, then sank back as he exhaled a sigh. A gloved hand petted at your head soothingly.

“You're just like Bats, you know,” he said. “These barriers you put up for yourselves are so small, but you give them so much power. And I just don't understand why.”

You paused, giving yourself time to think before mumbling into the fabric of his jacket, “Because it's the right thing to do.”

When you glanced up at him, the look of condescension on the Clown's face was nearly enough to forgo any ideas of self-preservation or pacifism. Nearly. The last thing you'd want to do is prove him right.

“They're never going to see you as normal, you know that, right?” He pressed. “You'll never really be one of them. Like a square peg trying to squeeze itself into a round hole. I don't see why you're so caught up in silly things like morality when it clearly hasn't helped you yet. It certainly doesn't seem like a concern for any of them.”

You didn't want to talk about this anymore. You didn't want to think anymore. You just wanted to find some cold comfort in the embrace of another.

A pair of lips pressed against the crown of your head. You flinched in his hold, burying yourself further into his grasp. Maybe you could just disappear.

“It's so sad to see you sabotage your own potential like this,” The Joker continued, voice taking on a lighter tone. “But it's okay. I'm here to take care of you. And I'll keep taking care of you until you can become who you were always meant to be. Because I love you, I really do.”

Yeah, right.

Still, you wished he made it harder to believe otherwise.

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with-my-calamitous-love · 4 months

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MY BELOVED GHOST AND ME

toya x reader

you and your complicated lover have an honest talk about the future.

angst, so so much angst, guys i was so sad when i wrote this, euphoria reference if you squint

inspired by how did it end?

to mourn someone who is still with you.

mourning someone who is not just with you. who is next to you, cradling you in the arms. he is silent, a wall of solitude. he is a magnitude of grief joined together by burnt skin and piercings. he is waves of hurt and love with nowhere to go kissing your shoulder. he is a litany of fear and resentment tightening his arms around your waist, holding you against his warm body as you stare at the window of your shitty apartment.

his name is toya todoroki. he was hurt, scarred, vengeful, and already gone. his skin that screamed for salvation proved that. and you loved him.

your eyes stare hesitantly at the window. he holds you silently against his ribs, blue eyes watching you with an unreadable stare. he was taring your world apart from the roots down, and he knew it. he felt it your bones scream against him.

"i wanna burn this city to the ground." you sigh.

and you'd honestly do it. not for you, not for anyone else but him. you'd tear the soil up from the ground, wrath building up explosions from the oceans as the waters flood the ground, drowning the suffering of humanity. you'd set everything in your sight ablaze, watching as everything burns into embers, and then nothing. and in the end you'd salt the earth behind you. nothing would dare sprout on the earth toya todoroki once loved you on.

"i know." he says.

you bring his burnt palm to your face, pressing your lips to the mourning skin. he looks at you, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. "i"m not scared of you, toya." you reassure him. hands that were known for destruction, known for the eruptions of blue flames that ravaged everything in his will. you kissed them. you'd kiss them a million times over. it was funny, how hands built for death held you so good.

he hums, his grip tightening around you. he knows you should be, that you should leave. if not out of fear, than out of hate. hate for who he his, hate for the pain that he has caused and will cause. because toya knew from the moment his marred body stared back at him in the mirror, was that he was going to go down in flames. he was going to destroy his father and everything he had done. he was going to die.

and you knew that. better than anyone.

so there you were. mourning someone who lay next to you, heart still beating, lungs still breathing.

"i'd destroy the whole world for you." you repeat.

toya looks at you, blue eyes staring intently at the way you lay in his embrace. "you're not supposed to, doll. thats my job, you're the good one." he mutters into your skin.

"i'm not as good as you think." you insist, still refusing to face your lover.

a sigh escapes his marred lips. "i know you're not perfect. but..." his fingers trace up and down the curves of your waist. "you're good for me. better."

you scoff.

"whats... whats gonna happen to us?"

you don't know what you feared more. silence, or the answer.

he paused for a moment, his hands wandering down to your thigh. his gave moved away from you as a pensive look came over his face, lips pursing as he thought of an answer. after a long moment of silence, his eyes returned to you, where his gaze belonged.

"do you really wanna know?"

"yeah, i do."

toya held your gaze for a moment, making sure his face stayed unreadable. his hand remained on your thigh, caressing your soft skin.

"this isn't gonna end well, doll. you and me.." he whispers breathlessly.

"i know." you nod solemnly.

"we're not gonna survive this. i'm not. the world... ain't gonna let us."

his actions betrayed his words, pulling you even closer to him. the look on his eyes screamed otherwise. they wanted something else, but his soul knew that his burnt hands were already out of reach.

"i figured." your voice was laced with bitterness. he wanted to protest, but what was there to argue against? he made up his mind.

"what am i to you?" you ask, eyes still gazing the emptiness of the outside world. your world laid right next to you, telling you that he wasn't going to stay.

"you're... everything." he utters, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you wince. finally turning around. you needed him to see the hurt in your eyes. and you needed to find the hurt in his.

"what... what can i do to convince you? to stay?" your voice cracked when your words reached his ears. toya paused, a part of him wanting to be his usual asshole self- teasing you into making love with your body pressed against him, the physical pleasure making him forget about his troubles for a moment. but the look in your eyes told im to stop.

he lets out the slightest sigh before speaking.

"you can't." his voice was barely above a whisper.

your eyes dropped, staring out the window again. "i figured."

he felt a twinge of guilt erupt in his chest, piercing new burns through his heart. he hated seeing you this way, hated knowing he was the one who caused it.

"i'm not gonna apologize." he muttered quietly, his grip on your chin soft yet firm as he held your face. "i'm not gonna change my mind, either..."

"i didn't expect you to." you answer, tearing his hand off of your face.

toya felt his fingers reflexively tighten before reluctantly letting you remove his hand. a flicker of frustration bloomed across his burning blue eyes. he hated how accepting you were, how understanding you were. both of you felt the tension, both souls aware of the inevitable. his jaw clenched as he thought of his mission, knowing that it would finally cause his father pain, but you bring you down with it. it killed him more than the fire, than the smoke.

"i'm not apart of your plan." you sigh. "you don't have to be here."

toya let out the slightest scoff at your words. his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you. his eyes hardened for a moment before he leaned in closer, whispering: "you think i'd choose to be anywhere else when i could be with you?"

"why do you stay here if you're just gonna die?"

"do i need a reason to stay with you, doll?"

"do you have one?"

both you and toya paused at your last question. his jaw clenched as you pressed his reasoning. he knew he couldn't tell you the truth. the truth that you were the one thing keeping him alive, the one thing that kept made staying seem like a reality. no, he couldn't tell you that. he couldn't give you hope.

"maybe, i just like being with you." he lies with a truth.

you sigh again, defeated as you lay your head on his chest like a soldier collapsing on the battle field. toya let out a low, content breath as his body welcomed you wholeheartedly in his embrace.

"so... i'm just gonna sit here.. and watch you kill yourself over some shitty revenge plan... i'm just gonna sit here and lose you..?"

toya pretends to not notice the way your voice cracks. he feels a wince of guilt at your quiet words, hating the way you suffered because of him. hated the way he could do absolutely nothing about it.

he took a deep breath before he spoke. "i didn't say you had to stay, doll... you're free to leave anytime you want." his words betrayed his feelings. he didn't want you to leave, selfishly. he rubs circles into your back, doing anything to comfort you.

"if i wanted to i would've left by now, idiot." you sigh, voice cracking once more.

he felt a familiar flicker of sadness run through his veins. this wasn't fair to you. not at all. he knew he was hurting you and he hated himself for it, more than anything else did. his grip on you tightened, calloused fingers running over your skin.

"you shouldn't stay." he muttered. "you should hate me. you should walk away and have nothing to do with me." toya tells you the truth and only the truth.

"i know." you whisper, defeated. "i really hate you right now, toya..." you cry, tightening your grip on his arm.

he feels his chest tighten as you cry. he knew he deserved your hatred, but he wished he didn't. his arm wrapped around you tighter, as if you'd disappear if he dare let you go. you had to be the one to let him go.

"i know you do, doll." he utters. "i think i hate myself too."

"good." you seethe, still holding onto him like a safety net.

he heard the anger in your voice, anger he knew all too well. he could feel the way your body trembled, the hurt and frustration locked inside of you evident. he absolutely hated himself for this. his thumb continued to trace patterns onto your back, thinking that maybe it'd take your pain away. "go ahead. scream at me, cry at me, hate me. you can do anything you want. i can take it."

but you don't scream or even yell. you just lay there, almost as lifeless as he was about to be soon. you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, nothing could possibly console you right now.

"i fucking hate you right now, toya todoroki." you cried into him.

"i know doll, i know." he feels the hurt press against his lungs, and he takes it. he takes all of the darkness that comes from you to him and eats it, swallowing it whole. he knows he deserves it.

you cry and cry, your shaking body cradled into toya's embrace. he held onto you desperately, seeing the pieces of you shattered in his arms tear him apart from the inside out. he could tell by the way your broken hands hold him that you don't want him to go.

"i want you to want me to stay." you choke, messy sobs piercing your words. you hated how he let you go, how he told you you should walk away from him. you wanted the complete opposite- you wished he'd make a god damn fool out of himself, loving you and begging you to stay. but toya knew not to waste his breath.

"its not a matter of wanting you to stay." he utters. "god, i want you to stay... more than anything." he presses his face into the skin of your shoulder, trying to feel you, trying to feel if a part of you still loved him beneath all the hate.

but its not enough for you. "no i want you to tell me to stay! dont tell me i should hate you, or-or that i should leave- i want you to fucking want me to stay! fucking love me! love me like i love you!" you rip a scream from your chest, sitting up from his embrace and staring him straight into his eyes. he needs to know how much he's hurting you.

he winced, feeling his chest clench at your words. "i do love you." his words escape from his lips.

"bullshit." you declare.

you can see on his eyes that he's taken aback by your words. if theres one thing he knew for sure, it was that he loved you. "why won't you believe me?!"

"because you're letting me just watch you fucking die!" you scream.

he stands up, the hurt from your face infecting his own.

"you think i want to die!?" he snarls, an unwanted hint of vulnerability escaping with his words. "i'm not letting you watch anything. i didn't ask you to sit around and wait for me."

he immediately regrets his words.

a look of disgust contorts your face. you stand up, facing away from him fully. your completely speechless. what could you say?

toya felt his heart strings wither as he tried to rectify the situation. "thats not what i meant." he sighs, running a finger through his hair.

you cry on your own, away from toya's prying eyes. he feels his heart clench again, knowing he's the villain here. he places a hand on your shoulder.

"doll." he whispers. "turn around"

you sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

"i can't save you. i can't convince you to stay. yet i can't... leave. i can't get on my feet and leave you. i want to, but... i just can't." you admit your defeat, not bothering to fight back as toya pulls you against him, back into bed.

"i told you you were free to leave, free to walk away and never look back. not like i don't deserve it." he reminds you, pressing a somber kiss to your head.

"i want you to hold me back." you whisper, now facing him with tears pricking your eyes. "i want you to ask me to stay. but.. but you don't."

toya said nothing. he knew you were right, that he wasn't going to ask you to stay. not when he knew it was more than he deserved.

"i hate you." you mutter. toya accepted it, nodding as he gave you a firm squeeze.

"i know you do, doll." he utters.

"no, you don't." you sob. he could never know how much this hurt for you.

"you're the worst." you half heartedly laugh through your tears, tearing a dry chuckle from toya as he agrees with you. he was the worst. the absolute scum of the earth.

"you're an asshole." you trail off. "you're a fucking bastard. and i still love you." you whisper that last part.

"you shouldn't."

"you think i want to?"

he chuckles at that. you were always right.

"after you die, i might end up burning the entire world down after all." you sigh. toya's eyes widen at this.

"you won't." he warns, his voice lower. you scoff.

"you're not in it anymore. so now i can do it." your eyes and voice alike are devoid of any happiness as you speak. and it killed him. good.

"don't say that." toya utters, this sentiment corroding him more than anything else.

"why not?"

"because... you're better than that, doll." he states firmly. you scoff again.

"i'm really not." announce.

"thats not you.. you're not a a killer, you're not cruel. you're good. you're kind. you're... you're everything i'm not." he mutters, declarative in his words as he holds you. it broke him to think you'd throw away everything like that. but then again, he was throwing away everything to.

you sob even harder. "i wanna be like you. i wanna be angry, i wanna destroy everything because of it. god, i wanna hate everyone and hate you. i wanna hate and hate and hate for the rest of my life but i can't." you run out of breath on the cant, hopelessness lingering in your throat as you spoke.

"i know..." toya utters, speechless. he felt a wince of physical pain from his body, his burnt vessel screaming at him to finally end it all.

"i love you, doll. don't you dare forget that." he challenges you, embedding it into your skin with a kiss. he made it sound like a goodbye. it was a goodbye.

"i love you too, asshole." you utter, closing your eyes against the warmth of his chest.

for the first time, ever, toya todoroki felt cold.

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hunieday · 3 months

Text

Momo - La'Stiara Rabbit Chat translation

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Momo: Heyyy Yuki-san heyyy

Yuki: I’m here

Momo: Oh. here comes Yuki!!!!! 🫣🫣 what are you doing right now?

Yuki: here comes yuki

Yuki: Harvesting pea sprouts

Momo: Now that’s the best lololololol

Momo: You’re the handsomest for doing that in the middle of the night. Well no, it’s too cute. But also still too handsome

Yuki: Who did you go drinking with today?

Momo: How did you know I was drinking!?!? I went with Gakuuu!!!

Yuki: Gaku-kun, huh. I can also tell you just finished drinking and you’re in a taxi

Momo: Whaaat!? Are you watching me from somewhere!?! Could this dandy driver actually be Yuki in disguise!?!?

Yuki: That's hilarious

Yuki: You always send me a rabbichat out of nowhere like this after drinking, pretty amusing how easy it is to tell because you're always in high spirits.

Momo: I guess my darling can see right through me…🥹

Momo: Whenever I'm drinking, I always think things like “Yuki would like this flavor" or "I'm sure Yuki would laugh a lot if I told him this story" so…

Momo: When I'm having drinks without you I just really wanna chat with you afterwards...🥹

Yuki: You say such romantic things

Momo: I feel that sense of comfort you get from being back home…

Yuki: Would you like some peaches? You've always liked them

Momo: That's right, you always remember the things I liked when I was younger...

Yuki: Here, I made plenty of stewed dishes, so take some with you. I also packed some rice crackers and candies. Don't overwork yourself.

Momo: That's how it is right? you always made me take home more food than I can eat by myself...

Momo: But you sound like Old Man Yuki right now lololololol your image of a family house is way too high!? lolol

Yuki: I just watched a TV drama about stuff like that

Yuki: Were you and Gaku-kun shooting for "La’Stiara" at the same time?

Momo: No, we just happened to bump into each other at the studio after the shoot!

Momo: Gaku didn't have any plans after that, so I invited him for a drink

Momo: He said “I'm so happy to go drinking with you for the first time in a while, Momo-san!" he looked so happyy~~

Yuki: How cute

Momo: Isn’t hee~~!! 😳 I almost gave him the gem I had on me 😳

Yuki: That's funny. Though Gaku-kun doesn't seem that interested in jewelry

Momo: that’s right lolol but he has a dignified face so I’m looking forward to seeing the gem + Gaku combo picture released to the public 🥺

Momo: By the way Yuki! We were talking about instant tempura soba. Do you add the tempura before or after you pour the hot water!?!?

Yuki: Now that sounds like a drinking party question

Momo: We were talking about buying tempura soba from the convenience store as a late-night snack and it somehow turned into a conversation topic lol

Yuki: Momo, you put it in first then add the hot water, right?

Momo: Yeah!! I ate it that way first because I thought I’d get a bigger portion that way but I grew to love it 🥹 It soaks up all the flavor and it's delicious!!!

Yuki: Yeah, I get it. The juiciness is delicious

Momo: Right!?!? As expected of you, Darling!

Yuki: What about Gaku-kun?

Momo: "I like to taste both the crispy tempura and the smooth texture of soba, so I add it afterward."

Yuki: I get it. Enjoying different textures is important

Momo: Huh!!!! But you just said you understood my way! Are you a post-water tempura person? 🥹

Yuki: I eat them separately.

Momo: lololololol a surprise third option!!!!

Yuki: I thought it might be interesting.

Momo: Yuki, you're always making conversations more lively during drinking parties, you’re so handsome,,,!!!!!!!

Yuki: I know

Momo:

Momo: Can I take you to this place I took Gaku to next time? It's pretty lively though

Yuki: Of course. Was it a good place?

Momo: Actually it was opened by the manager of an izakaya I used to work at back in the day!!!

Momo: Do you remember it? The place with the really delicious rolled omelets!

Yuki: Isn’t that the manager who used to pack you meal boxes to take home?

Momo: Yes, yes!! Isn't that a huge coincidence!!! He even recognized me!

Momo: He said he buys our CDs every time

Yuki: I remember him. He used to hand out flyers for our concerts to the customers at the izakaya.

Yuki: He was a really nice guy. Now that I'm looking back, we were really blessed with the people around us.

Momo: I really think so too. And because of that I wanted to chat with you even more, Yuki!

Yuki: Let's take a bunch of our juniors there to repay the favor. I'm sure he'll be happy to see how successful of a senior you've become.

Momo: Yeah...! If I told my past self that I'd become the Absolute Kings with you he'd be super surprised.

Yuki: If I told my past self that I learned to appreciate people and the environment surrounding me right now he'd be surprised too.

Momo: But Yuki, you've always been super, super kind, you know!? you wouldn't have accepted my unreasonable request otherwise

Yuki: Momo

Yuki: Let's talk about this in detail tomorrow. We've been reminiscing about old times a lot lately, but it feels like a waste to only rabbichat about them

Momo: Yuki...

Yuki: And

Yuki: sleepy

Momo: lololol you must be sleepy right!!! Thanks for chatting with me 😆😆

Momo: See you tomorrow, Yuki!!

Yuki:

#idolish7 #i7 #idolish7 translation #re:vale #orikasa yukito #sunohara momose #rabbit chat #la stiara #rabbitchat

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s0ckh3adstudios · 8 months

Note

howdy!! for the undertale gold au, i was wondering if we could see more of dalv? (or starlo, dalv and rover!! like the family portrait)

if not thats ok :) i just wanna see more of how these sillies work in the au

TA-DA!! Finally, after days... UTG Dalv! I Am So Sorry.

Disclaimer Corn Yaoi IS canon in this AU and for those who don't like it. I am sorry HEHEKGHLF It's too late for me to go back and I thought it'd be funny to include it. Too embedded in the lore now

You find out Dalv's backstory not through recorded tapes, but through his diary! You know, how he has one in the Ruins? In turn, Chujin still records tapes.

I actually wrote Dalv's diary entries and will be leaving them under the cut so you can all get your dose of exposition, but I'll give a summary of it below the Diary Entries if you want a TLDR!

Also, I apologize if the writing isn't very good- I tried my best to keep Dalv's character and write out what happened, but I'd probably edit a couple details if I wasn't lazy LMAO

====

SUMMARY:

Dalv and Starlo own a large farming area together where they grow crops for monsters to buy. They were given an opportunity to expand the farm, and their business by association, to the Snowdin area. Starlo was unable to meet with the people in Snowdin about it, so Dalv had to go. He was a bit nervous to do so, Chujin offered to join him! As long as he got to test out his latest project; Axis, a funny little robot. Rover, Dalv and Starlo's kid, also joined them! They wanted to visit Snowdin and play with Chujin's robot. Dalv and Chujin left Axis to watch and play with Rover while they had their meeting. But this is when danger struck. During the meeting, a human came through Snowdin and attacked Rover, even taking their hat. Despite Axis already chasing after the human and Chujin giving Dalv warnings, Dalv ran after the human as well to find his kid's hat.

Dalv did find the human... who was very injured after seemingly having had a run-in with Axis who was oddly nowhere to be found in that moment. When Dalv encountered in the human... something shifted in him. This human hurt his child, they could have taken them away... Seeing them... He felt angry. Without thinking, for reasons he can't really explain, he attacked the human and finished them off for good. In a panic, mortified at what he suddenly did, he stole the soul. He didn't want to admit it, even if this was what monsters were meant to do to humans. The soul was declared missing and Chujin was blamed; there was concern over how much damage Axis caused and the fact that he seemingly killed the human so brutally that he also destroyed the soul which they NEEDED.

Dalv decided he was going to try and use the soul for good and try to infuse its power into his crops! He thought if monsters ate them, they'd gain enough power to last against humans AND possibly bypass the barrier. He couldn't do this alone... So he ended up coming clean to Chujin about what happened. Chujin was VERY mad but figured if he helped, he could maybe get his job back. The two worked on the project and when sprouting their first soul infused crop, a cob of corn, Dalv offered to test it.

....It made him very sick.

When Dalv fell down, he had left a message to Starlo in his diary, telling him to read it after he died. He told Starlo to return the soul and shut down the project entirely. The farms are already in danger just for supposedly having some sort of illness in the crops that Dalv seemingly ate (a lie). But Starlo...... didn't listen. He felt bad that it didn't work out for Dalv and felt bad that he felt horrible about it. He wanted to do it for him. Carry on his legacy. Cling to what left he had of Dalv and what he was working on.

....But it was never meant to be.

#yeah this'll make the masses upset. post it! /ref #sock art #undertale gold au #uty #undertale yellow #uty au #undertale yellow au #uty dalv #uty starlo #uty clover #utg rover #uty chujin #tw blood #uty corn yaoi

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ameagrice · 3 months

Text

Capsize

Percy Jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-two I see trouble on the way.

There wasn’t an exact word to describe the way Chiron looked at you, that summer. Months and years down the line, you still couldn’t place it. That weary look, like watching something play out that you can’t really put a stop to. Of course, then you couldn’t have known. Not amongst friends, at your cabin table.

“Barbecue chicken wings!”

The food sprouted on the plate, a magic you’d never grown used to seeing. Newcomer Clarissa, a girl with extravagant blue hair, blinked, jaw-dropped.

“Twenty barbecue chicken wings!”

“Greedy-guts,” Annabeth chided beside you, munching on a side of lettuce.

You shoved three wings in your mouth at once, side-eying her. “You’re eating rabbit food.”

Your eyes lifted to the head table, where Chiron talked with an expressionless face to the new guy beside him, in an orange colour of the fruit itself. “I don’t like him.”

“You haven’t even talked to him,” Annabeth stabbed her fries with a fork.

“I don’t have to. Something’s off.”

Your sister groaned at your side, reaching for one of your chicken wings. Your mouth gaped, a sound of protest that she ignored. “Don’t start with ‘the vibes are off’ again.”

“Vibes are very important!” You rebutted.

He happened to be a man in at least his early to mid-fifties, short as anything and skinny, too, with a mess of dark-grey stubble around his jaw and a thin layer of hair on his head. Talking to Chiron, he might have looked like any random convict. But you weren’t convinced he was harmless.

“Seriously, though. The vibes are off. Don’t you think? You’ve been here all summer with him haven’t you?”

Annabeth’s bright eyes raised to the man in question for a fraction of a second, before lowering to her food, pushing fries around with the fork in her grip. “Quintus is…difficult. You should be careful with what you say around him. Especially you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It means,” she lowered her tone, as if it was a super-secret secret. “I don’t trust him…particularly, and I know you always have a lot to say. Besides, something’s happening, can’t you feel it? Nobody trusts Quintus the way we should, since he came out of nowhere. Somebody mentioned the Oracle and he went crazy, he shut ‘em down. You have to keep your mouth shut this year, okay? Don’t disrespect the Gods, and don’t talk back to him.”

Being serious wasn’t in your nature, but you tried, for your sister’s sake. “Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re Annabeth.” Clarissa choked on her food, while Annabeth rolled her eyes.

It was a total pain that, not long after arriving, you had cabin inspection. A bore, grinding your nerves that you had to clean a cabin full of mess that wasn’t even yours—but Annabeth told you to quit whining, so you did, figuring you’d annoyed her enough already. Every afternoon for the first week, a senior counsellor came around with a checklist for every cabin. Thanks to your team efforts, you got the hot, clean showers first every time. Unfortunately for Percy, he fell somewhere around the middle-bottom league. You asked for snacks in return for your cleaning efforts, putting your home skills to use. Your best friend carried through on his promise—goods from the cabin store delivered promptly to your cabin every week.

Somewhere between the end of the first week and the weekend, you dipped your fingers in the lake water, watching the dark trailing swirls as you moved. Your ankle gently tapped Percy’s in the water, sitting at the end of the walkway. You can’t help noticing how much more grown up he looks this year. Older than you—you can’t seem to shed your baby face and freckles. Eyebrow waxing and tinting can only do so much.

“You know,” you say quietly, into the evening stars. “I think the Oracle wants to see me.”

Percy remains quiet at your confession. In the water’s reflection, you watch him nod. Maybe he thought this was a continuation of your want to see the future, carried through from last season. This time is very different, you want to tell him. Because this time, you feel it in your body that your time is here.

Dark curls gently sway with the movement of his nod. Even at fifteen years old, Percy respects your wishes, even if he doesn’t agree with them. “Want me to come with you?” Just being there is enough for him. There are no questions, with Percy. He understands you, and the way you talk. There is a mutual understanding that he’s there if you want, and there anyway. There is an underlying message in his words: I’m here if you need me to be.

“Yeah,” you dip your head, to your fingers laying just beside each others, not touching. “I’d like that.”

Intuition as a demigod means a lot. It can help the demigod avoid dangerous situations, or get them to act appropriately in time. In a few years from now, walking, lonely, along a shoreline yearning for someone who isn’t there, you’ll remember this moment, and question your own sanity. On the other side of the water will be a boy, sitting and praying on his knees in the sand, for your return. You’ll feel a million miles away yet so close, just the way you do now. This moment, in the present, feels so prominent and so odd that you commit it to memory, for later. Later always comes too soon. You shouldn’t get so caught up in the past, you hear a woman’s voice telling you. You want to scream until your throat feels raw; so why is the past always catching up to me? We live in memories; they shape you, they guide you—maybe that’s why you eventually feel so lost.

The next day, you kick yourself into action. You set about making a sword from scratch in the armoury (and bribing some Hecate kids to charm it for you, to a bracelet, or something. You haven’t quite decided yet). Something in the style of Percy’s sword would be beneficial.

“Do you think there’s a reason why my sword works so well with you?” The boy mutters, hanging upside down on the dock at night, cicadas singing all around. “Back at the school, I mean. You just…used it like it weighed nothing. It came to you.”

There probably is a reason. Chiron would know. But for now, you’re young, and you don’t care.

You go down to the training arena the next evening and watch newcomer Quintus fight against Percy—practicing. The older man might try to come across as harmless, and friendly, but there’s something you really can’t place your finger on.

“Good try,” the man nods. “But your guard is too low, Percy.”

Said boy parries back, undeterred. “Have you always been a swordsman?”

“I’ve been many things.”

And if that wasn’t strange enough, the purple insignia on his neck was. In the shape of a bird, the symbol sat against his stark skin like a terrible bruise. A reminder, he called it, when Percy asked. You decide you don’t want to know much more. You’ve made your mind up about the man.

The evening that you’ve made up your mind on going to the Oracle, something strange is in the air. It feels different, like it had when Ares met you in the diner your first quest, and the way it had when you ran away from home. Something was changing—had changed. When you raise your eyes to Chiron, talking with an animated Connor Stoll at his table, he raises his gaze like he’d been expecting you. He knows that you feel something is wrong, and you know that he understands what you mean. It’s a sure sign that this isn’t you being paranoid—this is real. Something is coming, and you wish you could avoid it with all your heart. Chiron shakes his head, curls jostling at his shoulders, a silent warning for you to be quiet—to let it be. He’s handling it.

In the middle of the dining place, striking across the floor, sits the crack where Nico di Angelo brought forth the dead. Since then, he’s been missing. And nobody will let you look for him. His grief showed his true colours, a hidden talent buried deep down. If Bianca hadn’t have passed, poor Nico would be here, and happy. He’d be safe.

Annabeth jokingly digs her hand into your side. Ticklish, you almost elbow her. “Shift it! I’m starving!” You draw your eyes away from the past, though it’s staring you right in the face.

You fall asleep that night with your fingers still against the edge of the curtain that stops right above your pillow, playing with it to watch the stars above camp. When you manage to drift off, feeling heavy and tired, you only hear words in the darkness.

“An exchange. A soul for a soul. A soul that should have died already. Someone who has cheated death.”

You can’t help but think, that’s you.

So you pull on a jacket and shoes, and slip from your cabin, trailing across camp in the quiet of night, taking in the sheer silence. In the distance, Festus snored and the Golden Fleece glowed, but that passed as you took the steps to the Big House, creaking under your feet. The lights inside are on, as they always are—the Big House is never closed. And somebody is always awake.

Unfortunately, tonight, the someone you want is not awake. Mr. D. is. You’re about to turn around when he blinks up from his magazine at the table, and waves his hand briefly. The door flies open, whacking the wall unapologetically. You stand, in mismatched socks and a saggy jacket, unimpressed.

“Where’s the manager?” You ask, folding your arms.

“That would be me.”

You scoff, stepping inside. “Bullshit.”

Inside, the lights are on, the house like a beacon. It smells of alcohol and coffee, though Mr. D. can’t drink ethanol. The scent lingers with him, like the smell of Cola. He sits in a too-big, starry shirt with red cheeks and bright orange pants. A fashion icon, on a different planet. A warm breeze drifts in from the open doorway, brushing your bare legs. The animal on the wall, above the chair where a clock also sits, stares at you, judging.

“I really need to speak to Chiron.”

“Not Quintus?” He lazily raises his brows. You laugh through your nose, shoving your hands inside your pockets. As you begin to walk the space, you blink at the dirt on your shoes, thinking.

“No. I’d rather jump off a cliff.” You stop. Pulling out a chair at the table, you sit heavily, legs outstretched, an arm over the back of the chair. You don’t look up. “I had a dream about that kid, Nico. He isn’t lost—he’s following someone’s orders. And we need to go get him. Someone wants to exchange lives—a soul for a soul. They said, someone who has skipped out on death.”

Silence fills the space. You look up, from your shoes. Mr. D. shrugs. “Okay?”

Fury fills you. “Okay? That’s all you got? Call for a quest!” You exclaim, getting to your feet. “Help Nico! A soul for a soul clearly means me. Did you just ignore the last quest altogether? How many times did I nearly die?”

His watery eyes blink, face unbothered. Mr. D. leans back on the sofa, flicking his magazine again. He hums. “How should I know?”

“You should! You should know these things. Please just…help me out, here. Get Chiron to call for a quest. Let me talk to the Oracle. We can save Nico! We can fix this! He’s a kid…he shouldn’t be out there alone. Someone is clearly controlling him. And personally, I think it’s a god.”

Now, he looks up. Those eyes harden. He doesn’t do anything, but the air shifts, changes, and you hate it. “Do you, now?”

“Yes,” you sigh slowly, watching carefully. Men can be unpredictable, you’ve learned that. Gods? A little bit more so. “Just…let me do this. Let me fix things before they get worse. Please.”

You plead the same way with Chiron, later that morning. “I know this is meant for me. This is my quest. My chance. Chiron, I swear. I feel this in my bones. We have to do something, because something big is happening. Nico needs somebody to help him, and someone powerful has risen. I’ve dreamt it. I feel it. And I know that you do, too. If you don’t believe me, let me talk to the Oracle! Talk to Percy. He knows about this. He knows how I feel about it all—!”

“Stop.” Chiron utters quietly. He cuts your rising tone in half, and you fall silent, waiting. He looks at you the same way that he has since you arrived—like you’re headed for your grave, and he’s trying to stop it. He sits looking out across the porch, across camp. “Go back to your cabin. Inspection’s due to start, is it not? I’m sure Annabeth would like your help—”

And…you finally snap. You swipe a hand over your hair, tugging on the ends. “Why does nobody listen to me?! I know that you can feel something is wrong. I know. If you’d just let me talk to the Oracle. Just this once. And I’ll stop. If nothing happens, I’ll leave it all alone,” you step forward, so you’re leaning on the railing, breathing deeply, waiting for his reaction. “We both know, though, that something will happen. You’re just scared of it.”

Later, you’ll realise, looking at a young boy on a rooftop, just why Chiron was scared. He was scared for all you heroes, then and always. Heroes die terrible deaths; they get hurt, and they don’t recover. They live difficult but happy lives. It’s the hard parts, he doesn’t like.

“We don’t all die,” you urge. “We don’t all suffer. If you let me do this, I’ll come back from wherever I’ll go. I’ll bring Nico back. I’ll fix all of this! You have to trust me on this one. I’ve had dreams. Nightmares. I know what’s coming, and what will happen if I don’t do something. You’ve always said that intuition is right, as a demigod. Isn’t that one of the first things you told me? Told Percy? Right now, my intuition is telling me that I have to do this! Please believe me.”

Waiting for his response is more nerve-wracking than spilling your thoughts to him at a million miles an hour. He holds a thousand-yard stare, like he’s seeing past you. Who is he seeing, you wonder? Which hero do you remind him of?

Chiron inhaled heavily, exhaling slowly. He looks tired. “You remind me…so much of your mother. So persistent to do the right thing. Not always the good thing, but the right. You young heroes…I will think about it. We have more pressing matters, right now. An Aethiopian Drakon was spotted this morning walking the camp border. We know Luke has made plans to invade, and my guess is this is the start of that idea. Quintus has suggested we have a round of war games tonight. You should tell Annabeth and Sienna, they’ll want to prepare no doubt…”

At breakfast, Quintus announces the war games after dinner. Annabeth yaps about how long it’s been since the last one. Clarissa tiredly asks what the war games are like. The conversation with Chiron plays on your mind while you scrape your offerings into the fire. A bit of toasted bagel and strawberries. The brightness of the flames reflect off your plate, grateful that you’re late to breakfast and there’s nobody waiting behind you.

“Help me get what I want, mom. We both know I’m meant for this. Let me save Nico. Let me save us.”

Whether she’ll listen—whether she even heard—is one thing, and carrying out on your wishes is another. A part of you wants to think about all the times she didn’t help you. But another part thinks of all the times she did, and you have a slither of hope that Athena will hear your desperation and help you out.

You remind me so much of your mother. You have lots in common, then. Maybe she’ll realise you’re more alike than either of you thought.

You turn and cast your gaze across the pavilion. Connor and Travis are throwing food across the table, so you’re not going there. At your table, Annabeth is staring at the sky like it’s the answer to all her problems. Silena Beauregard is sobbing her heart out at her haircut, so you’ll avoid her today. Finally, Percy and Grover. Percy in typical fashion of creased blue tee and jeans, and Grover chewing on lettuce, his horns poking through his curly hair. At the head table, Chiron is standing, not in the wheelchair, tall and…already watching. Maybe he does it on purpose—he just leaves. Campers shouldn’t sit at other tables, sitting with your own cabin is a where you should be.

You approach Percy, anyway, slinking onto the bench. Grover smiles at you, and you can’t tell if you’re paranoid or if Chiron has mentioned your talk this morning. Maybe you’re losing it—because you swore, hands down, that you talked to Mr. D. last night, and according to Chiron, he isn’t even at camp.

“What are we talkin’ about?” You pick at your bagel, eyeing Percy’s much more appealing chocolate pop tarts.

“Chiron wants Percy to convince me,” Grover utters, spearing his breakfast with a fork.

“Convince you of what?”

A plate smacks down on the table, rattling the dishes already there. Annabeth climbs over the bench and plonks down, reaching over you to steal one of Percy’s pop tarts. You have half a mind to snatch it back.

“I’ll tell you what it’s about,” Annabeth said. “The Labyrinth.”

You look between the three of them. “Labyrinth? Are we talking, like, Theseus’s Labyrinth? Ariadne, and shit?”

“Exactly that.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Percy hushes. “Either of you.”

“We all need to talk!” Annabeth insists.

“But the rules…” he frowns.

You shove the rest of your bagel in your mouth. “Rules-shmules. Cut to the point—I had a dream about Nico di Angelo, and he’s working with some psycho to exchange souls. He’s being controlled by someone. Last night, the Apollo kids went out to get rid of the drakon in the woods. I’ve had a weird feeling for weeks now that something’s coming and something has changed, and all of this is happening after Luke came up with the plans to invade and take over. Coincidence? I think not. We need to do something.”

Annabeth hums. “When you pair all that with the fact that Grover’s in trouble, and the Labyrinth we found this summer over in the woods? It’s all connected. It has to be. I think the only way we can figure it all out is by going into the Labyrinth. It didn’t appear for no reason, right? Clarisse found it by total accident, and we’ve been trying to investigate it all summer. We only get so far, though…”

“So,” Percy prodded. “It’s not under the king’s palace in Crete anymore. It’s actually under some random building in America?”

“It was never just under the palace, though,” you think aloud. “It was sprawling. It existed for so long before Theseus went inside that it just…adapted. Changed. If it grew there, chances are it isn’t just under some building in America. It’s probably everywhere. Just like Olympus moves with societal changes, and how an Underworld entrance is in L.A.”

“So, is the Labyrinth a part of the Underworld?”

It’s Annabeth’s turn to be confused. Grover shook his curly head. “No. There are probably passages leading down to the Underworld in the maze, but they’re not totally connected. Think of them as…alleys between streets. The Labyrinth is basically just under the surface of the mortal world, like a second skin. It’s been growing for thousands of years. It’s connected everything everywhere. You can get practically anywhere using the Labyrinth.”

It only occurs to you, then, that, “The Labyrinth that opened in camp…is Luke’s way in. It’s how he’s going to invade everywhere. He’s got it all planned to a T. Luke must have connections in camp, because the entrance to the Labyinth wasn’t here a few months ago. Someone has to be feeding him information on how it works, where it starts and ends. How to get inside. But who?”

It all clicks into place perfectly.

You’re your mother’s daughter, alright.

As it so happened, Chiron wanted Grover to explore the maze. Clarisse spent the summer inside of it, trying to get a feel for where it led to, the entrances and exits. It’s always changing, according to her, and she got lost a couple times. Chris Rodriguez went insane down there, says Annabeth. He’s still insane. But no other advancements have been made. Because nobody can find the entrances outside, or the exits inside. Grover still wants to find the god, Pan, and believes that the maze might be the only way to find him. But Grover is Grover, and he knows how he feels, so the maze isn’t a match. Annabeth urges him to go and keep looking. But…everyone knows something is wrong. Off.

When Quintus cleared his throat far too many times to be a sore throat, Annabeth got the hint and took you over with her to your own table.

“Convince him, will you?” She asks Percy, linking her arm with yours to pull your unwilling self along. “Talk to him.”

You eye Quintus and try to decide whether you’re a paranoid schizophrenic. Mr. D. would tell you straight. But he’s not here, and so says Annabeth, he never was. There’s excitement and unsettlement buzzing in your body, like you’re gearing up for something you don’t know about just yet. Sometimes, the body knows before the brain does, and it’s never wrong.

That evening, Quintus ordered the Capture The Flag armour to be handed out. Suited up and waiting for his orders, everyone crowded as the sun began to set, burning orange over the treeline. The mood among the campers was a lot more serious than when you played Capture The Flag.

“Right!” Quintus said, standing on the head table. “Gather round.” He dressed in black leather and bronze armour, like something from the past and the future mixed into one. Throwing in his greying hair into the mix was like seeing a ghost. The giant puppy (supposedly dangerous) that was Mrs O’Leary bounded and barked around Quintus, eating scraps off the floor. “You will be in teams of two—WHICH HAVE ALREADY BEEN DECIDED.” People began to grab at their friends and scream names, until he yelled over them.

“Awwwww!” Came a chorus of disappointment.

“The goal is simple: collect the gold laurels without dying.”

You lean over subtly to Percy, though you can’t just whisper in his ear anymore, he’s got so tall. “We do that every day.”

“The wreath is wrapped in the silk package tied to the backs of the monsters. There are six of these monsters, each has a silk package. Your goal is to find the wreath before the other teams. And…of course, you will have to slay the monster to get it, and not die.”

“Neat,” you mutter. It sounds straight forward enough. Around you, people agreed.

“I will now announce your partners. There’ll be no switching. No complaining. And NO trading.”

He went on to list the pairs, from a terrified Grover and spooked Tyson, to Clarisse and Joan, to Annabeth and Mason, to Connor and Travis, and you and Percy.

Percy grinned at you. “Nice.”

You shoulder-barged him so hard his armour turned ski-whif. You twirled your dagger between your fingers with what you could describe as utter skill, heading into the woods. The teams spread out, some walking, some sprinting. Percy held his sword at his side, and you were almost jealous of it. It was still light when you got into the woods properly but the height and density of the trees made it darker and colder than it really was.

“I spy with my little eye,” Percy spun in a circle. “Uhhhh…something beginning with T.”

“Trees.” You side-eyed him.

“Smarty-pants. Your turn.”

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with P.” You hone in on the distant scuttling.

Percy gasps dramatically. “It’s a Percy!”

Your hand flies for his sword-side wrist. “No—package. Run!”

If this were a fun game, you might have run after the package strapped to the back of the creature. However…you were really quite scared. These creatures were huge, bigger than normal monsters, scorpions altered with huge pincers and poison dripping from their sides. When one came, three more followed. How on earth were you supposed to fight them all off? You nearly tripped over backward as Percy yanked on your armour. You scrambled to keep up with him, dirt flicking up off the ground. Another creature came out from that way, too, leaving you back-to-back with Percy.

“They don’t look happy,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” you agree.

You move slowly to be side-by-side instead, moving in the one direction the monsters aren’t keeping you stuck in. Your feet shift back, the ground declining. Percy, in front of you, trusts you to guide him, deflecting a hiss of poison with the flat of his sword just in time to catch it before it landed on your face. You exhale slowly, reaching your dagger hand behind you, catching on the side of a large rock, taller than the both of you, and one on the other side. The space between the two is slim, but with the creatures closing in on you, any sort of coverage is better than none.

“Bit tight there, no?” Percy suggests nervously, reaching his free hand up to his shoulder where your hand rests up on his armour, guiding.

“Cover is cover, man. Oh, that’s a bit steep—”

Before you can say another word, the ground under your feet gives way. All the breath leaves your lungs in the sudden, unexpected fall. Percy yells, shocked, falling backward into pure darkness. You land on hard ground, your armour taking most of the impact. Slightly winded, you sit up and rely on Percy to help you up, staring at the hole you fell through, the light sky and scorpions peering down to you. The boy next to you breathes frantically, panicking.

It couldn’t get any worse, right?

Wrong. You watch in total disbelief, the hole knitting together and closing up to leave you both in the pitch black. The make of Percy’s sword provides a tiny glimmer of a glow, casting between your faces—his wide-eyed, unblinking and yours terrified.

“Percy—”

“Don’t panic. It’s—it’s fine.”

Your voice rises to a high pitch. “Where are we?!”

“Well, we’re in a hole.” His voice shakes in response.

It’s freezing down here, and damp. You take a step back, dropping your dagger. It clatters and echoes in both directions. Your palms fly back as you lean and hit a wall, sliding them across dewy concrete. A breeze blows from one direction, whistling, all the way down to the other. The space doesn’t feel tight. When you reach your hand out to find Percy in the darkness, you can’t feel him.

“Are you there?” You whisper, throat tightening.

“Right here,” he gulps, and warm fingertips land in your hair. You slide your hand up to meet his wrist and don’t let go. His pulse flutters furiously under your tight fingers. “The whole woods, and four monsters come right to us. We’re like magnets.”

“Just you, man. Son of Poseidon ‘n all.”

“Glad you find this funny.”

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

As the two of you calm down ever so slightly, you push off the wall, still holding Percy, and reach for his sword, turning the material’s dim light this way and that. It doesn’t do much. “What is this? Maintenance tunnels?”

You want to laugh. But something weak and nervous has settled on your chest. “Percy…I think we’re in the Labyrinth.” The ground beneath your feet feels like brickwork, jolty, uneven. “Safe from scorpions, anyway.”

“This is new. Has to be. We would have known if there were caves here. Surely?…”

You nod, sniffing. “Definitely.” You thought of the crack made by Nico in the dining pavilion. Had the two of you made this? But how? It didn’t seem right. You lower your hand from Percy’s sword, and he slides his hand down…into your own clammy palm, off his wrist. Eyes widening, you don’t question it. He keeps his hand there. Percy shifts the sword light.

“It’s a long room,” he mutters.

“It’s not a room,” you realise. “It’s a corridor.” The darkness felt emptier in front and behind, and you had the terrible, crawling feeling that something was watching. If this was the maze, it would make sense: the maze is alive, after all.

He took a step forward, slipping your hand away. “Don’t!” You cried, a little too loudly, partially out of worry for danger but mostly so as not to be left alone. “Don’t go down there. We need to just…find an exit. We need to get out.”

If he sensed your panic—which, being Percy, he definitely did—he tried to calm you. “It’s okay,” he tried, somewhat soft. “It’s right—there…oh.”

You tried to think rationally under the rising terror. If this really was the maze, who was the maker? You sift through hours of books and facts and history mentally in seconds, working at a thousand mental miles an hour. The original maker, would have been Daedalus—the father of Icarus. Ancient Greeks and their creations…

“There has to be some sort of exit here,” you utter, trailing your hand up the wall. You let go of Percy’s and brush both across the dewy walls. “A mark, maybe? Daedalus was a creator. All creator’s leave their trademark, I think. If we’re talking Ancient Greece then it’s probably a Greek letter or…sign…something.” You liked to assume the trademark would be something to feel, and close by. You heard Percy copying you without question. You know one another by now, and how each other works. You often lead—Percy often follows. It’s a level of trust you’ve had no choice but to build on over the years. Act first, question later.

His unsure tone came forth in the darkness. “I’m not—”

“Got it!” A eureka! moment brings relief, and a bit of weight falls from your shoulders. A dented brick in the wall, in the shape of the ancient Delta—a small L. It began to glow bright blue when you pressed into it. You’d have smiled if you weren’t so worried. The roof slid open, dirt falling in atop of you. You’d been expecting scorpions and sunlight, not…stars, and the dark sky. Elatedness turns into sheer and utter bafflement. Metal ladder rungs speared out of the wall, to the opening in the ceiling. People were screaming your names, some distantly, some close by. Percy glanced nervously to you, and nodded to the ladder.

Humid air greeted you. Up on the surface, the ground closed over again, like it had never fallen open in the first place. Percy, crouched, brushed his hand over the place there should have been a gash. Nothing.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Clarisse rounded into your space, face like fury. “We’ve been looking forever!” She demanded.

Maybe it was how you shook, leaning against the rock. It might have been the paleness of Percy’s face.

“We were only gone five minutes,” he said.

Chiron trotted up, followed by Annabeth and a new camper. “You guys okay?” She asked, breathing deep.

“We’re fine,” Percy got to his feet. “We fell into a hole.” People looked skeptically to him, but you opened your mouth.

“Honest.” Chiron looked like his worst fears were coming to life. “We were out here just fighting those scorpions and then the ground just opened. Didn’t feel that long down there, but obviously…”

“You’ve been missing for nearly three hours,” Chiron ran a hand over his face. “The game is over.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth piped up. “We nearly won. Until Tyson fell on me.”

You eyed the golden laurels Clarisse wore. Usually, she’d brag and flaunt in typical Ares-kid fashion. This time, the girl stood judging. “It just opened?” She repeated.

“Chiron, maybe we should talk about this somewhere else? At the Big House?” Said Annabeth.

Clarisse pushed further into the circle. “You found it, didn’t you? You went into the maze!”

You turned your head in a short tilt, scoffing. “Yeah. Yeah, we found it…”

Campers grew rowdy, yelling questions and firing anxiety. Chiron held his hand up and it grew quiet. “Tonight is not the right time, and this is not the right place.” He stared at the giant rock formations like they were dangerous. “All of you, back to your cabins. Get some sleep. You played well, but it’s well past curfew!”

There was a lot of complaining and mumbling, but campers dwindled and retreated to their cabins, no doubt going to talk about your missing evening with Percy.

“That explains what Luke is after,” Clarisse shrugged.

You froze. “So I was right, this morning—we found Luke’s invasion route into camp?”

If looks could kill, you’d be back in that hole. Annabeth nodded, staring at you. Clarisse popped off on a spiralling theory, and Percy pressed his hand into your shoulder. Chiron had turned grey, face stony.

You didn’t know, then.

You’d just just started digging your own grave.

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@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @i-love-books-and-the-bible

@obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m @ryujinraven

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sukinapan · 23 days

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teenage edgy atheist me would be SO mad at me being into religious symbols and concepts now lmao

i've been thinking a lot about how religion affected me deeply despite my family never being particularly insistent on it... like most people in my circles, i grew up as watered-down catholic. nobody was going to church or reading the bible, but we'd go to people's babies' baptisms, I'd chant a guardian angel prayer my grandma taught me every night, and despite my school being secular, we had an optional "religion" (catholic) period in elementary which most of our parents signed us up for.

i've heard horror stories from people who went to actually religious schools, run by nuns or priests, but this was different. my impression is that the school system never took this religion class too seriously, so there wasn't really a specific curriculum to be followed. the teachers would rotate constantly, and there was 0 consistency to the kind of activities we did. we'd dance and sing songs and play games, and then a teacher would pull a written test out of nowhere. the result being i was never properly explained the basics of it.

i was born catholic by default so i had to somehow know what a sin was already (the word sin in spanish sounds almost like "fish": pecado and pescado, so i spent YEARS believing "sinner" was some sort of fisherman metaphor), i never understood what use jesus's death had or why pilatus "washed his hands". i knew adam and eve were not supposed to be taken as real but then why was the rest of the bible? i was immersed into this strange lore that i couldn't make sense of and nobody was interested in explaining it in detail.

the only devout person i knew was my grandma. she was never the hateful discourse type nor did she go around spouting lore that would help me understand. like many women she was just very devoted to a benevolent god and to the virgin mary as a mother figure (i remember a prayer saying "mary, mother of god" and i was confused af since hadn't god created her?).

i'm not entirely sure where my fear came from. i remember my mom just once or twice mentioning god, she was probably just annoyed at me, and said god was going to punish me for whatever i was doing. and i took that SO seriously. i'd also always assumed hell was some sort of temporary place where you just had to repent for a while. i mentioned it once in the car and my dad calmly clarified that no, hell was forever. i was devastated. i became convinced that i was somehow evil and used to picture a scene in my mind where a cartoonish devil would appear in my room at night to take me to hell with him.

i eventually grew out of this, thankfully. we had our first communion ritual through the school, i realized it made 0 sense to me and became an edgelord atheist at 11, to my poor grandma's dismay. but i think the fear and the guilt and this idea of being constantly watched and judged still traumatized me a little. years after i'd stopped believing, i continued to whisper "sorry" to the air after doing something wrong.

but my whole point with this, i guess, is that i've found a new appreciation for my experience with religion. i still have a poor opinion of most it, but there's many elements i'm starting to enjoy thinking about. especially the ones pertaining to latin american syncretism, like the focus on the mother figure amidst absent fathers (i guess you could say god is latam's absent father too), loved ones becoming angels that stay around and look out for you, or miracles sprouting from tragedy. i'm also very tormented by death and it's somehow so comforting to make art about it. i really look forward to continue using these elements in the future🧸ྀི໒꒱⋆

#just some ramblings from last night cuz i was choking on my own mucus and couldn't sleep #me #religion #peklo

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midnight-pluto · 10 months

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Hi!! Can I request headcanons about being best friends with Nico and Will (together), kinda having that “couple who adopts their bsf as their child” dynamic reader is a child of Demeter and if it’s no trouble can reader be female? GN will work if not.

SOLANGELO +1 — headcanons

you call it third wheeling, i call it quality time with the parents

CHAR: will solace, nico di angelo, grover, mentioned!percy jackson, mentioned!annabeth chase

PAIRING(S): solangelo + daughter of demeter!reader, mentioned!percabeth

A/N: this is gonna be a nightmare to tag lmao

when new campers meet Will for the first time, they’re almost always introduced to Nico next

what they don’t expect, is for you to pop out of nowhere introducing yourself as well

they jump slightly at your sudden appearance, and reciprocate your greeting with slight confusion in their voice but then Will gladly explains the situation

“This is Y/N, daughter of Demeter.”

“Yeah, and these are my dads.”

“Y/N that’s not—“

it would be so much funnier if you were taller than both of them

that sends some campers in a spiral, especially the younger ones

once the new camper is recovered they then automatically understand the true nature of y’all’s relationship

some are slightly confused on why you seem so glad with the arrangement you three have going but most support it and find it amusing

if the three of you are ever going anywhere you’re usually in the front as the actual couple trail behind you holding hands

all of the friendship accessories you three own are thanks to you!

you made matching bracelets, a custom bead to add to the camp necklace just for the three of you, and the cliché flower crowns your cabin is known for

the flower crown was made of an assortment of flowers — lilies, chrysanthemums, and sunflowers which all not coincidentally mean or have some correlation to friendship

you have most definitely been the first to witness Will playing a love song to Nico in private

not wanting to interrupt the moment you made all the plants in the area grow greener and have flowers sprout around them

it was a miracle on how both of them didn’t notice your antic sooner

as you were making the plants grow around them from the bush, Will had stopped strumming as Nico looked at him with one of his rare smiles when they both leaned into each other

but of course Nico just had to feel the suddenly grown flowers tickling at his ankles and immediately spotted you — watching you run away from your hiding spot

that situation is what led to you to believe was the reason you kept on being invited to their dates

were you complaining? no, of course not

you had the ability to snack on all their food after all and they have no one but themselves to blame

“Where did the cookies even go?”

“…whoops.”

as their honorary child you were not technically counted as a third-wheel

Will had jokingly dubbed it a ‘family bonding time’ whenever you joined in on his Nico’s time together — them not even doing anything special, but you still joined anyways — and the name stuck

in all honesty Will is happy with the arrangement you all have together

don’t get him wrong, he would enjoy the moments he and Nico have together all the same even if you weren’t there, but your presence and witty comments coming from nowhere make it all the more cherished

also, your ability to make scenes more romantic is very highly appreciated; making him choose more woody and grassy areas so it’s easier for you to romanticize them

Nico on the other hand would’ve enjoyed it more if he and Will were alone away from your eyes

but he supposed yours was different — making the moments they both have feel more domestic so he didn’t necessarily consider any of his or Will’s actions PDA when it was you

you never really paid attention anyways

the romanticized scenery caused by you made Nico scoff but he was grateful for the added atmosphere — which was quite a compliment since he normally disliked such clichés

Grover once tried to talk to you about it and relate to the feeling of being the third-wheel like he was with Percy and Annabeth

it didn’t lead to an outcome he expected

“And they’re like: ‘be safe. I love you,’ and then I’m just standing there wondering if they’ll ever tell me that because you know, life-or-death situation going on right? But they never do!”

“Damn bro, that sucks.“

“Does this not happen to you?”

“Nope. We yell at each other to be safe.”

A/N: school is absolute shit

#rin’s 200 follower event [🧸]#rin’s headcanon’s 🌷#pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo fluff #will solace x y/n #will solace x reader #will x reader #nico x reader #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo #will solace

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dwailol · 1 year

Text

My Favorite Pose

ComPOUND Round 3 [Bucky x Fem Reader]

Minors DNI 🔞

Summary: First morning of your week alone in the compound with Bucky. He adds himself to your morning routine. ;) Established relationship. If you’ve been following the plot PLEASE STOP but your powers and vaguely why you stayed behind are revealed.

Warnings ⚠️: smut af, bondage, a lil rough but not too much, oral (m and f), praise kink, p in v, unprotected

WC: 1.7k??

It’s 5:30 AM and there are little to no off days even for low key weeks like this. I get up and walk to get the specially designed breakfast that F.R.I.D.A.Y. planned for me. If there is one thing I miss about my past life it was a big flavorful breakfast… well and my family not being the reason the rest of the Avengers are trying to save a population of innocent people.

Surprise! I’ve got daddy issues. That’s my whole conflict of interest that kept me from the mission. I can’t do it. I told them not to tell me who did it if they are gone by the end of it. No matter how much I’ve been burned by them I’ll still hesitate.

I take my last bite and walk to the training center. I try to quiet my mind with some yoga before I get into the intense workouts. As I move into downward dog, I feel Bucky’s two hands pull my ass to his crotch. He gives it a light squeeze that still hurts because of the marks he left on it last night.

“Downward Dog - my favorite pose. What are you doing up so early Angel?”

“You know that pet name can only stretch so far,” I stand up. He throws his hands up with a cocky grin.

“Sorry, it’s just so fitting. I haven’t seen them in a while. It’s kind of hot when you pop them out. You should give me a quick show,” he says with that grin somehow getting smugger. The lack of sleep I got last night really motivated me to remind him what got me here in the first place.

“Careful what you wish for.”

In less than a second I sprout my wings then clap them hard in front of me which sends him flying across the room. I retract them back in an instant. He gets up laughing and clapping.

“Woo! That is what I’m talking about angel! I would ask to see the other stuff but we don’t want to set the building on fire do we?”

I can’t control myself when my other powers ignite - literally ignite. While he playfully annoys me, I don’t think I could ever release that hell fire. My powers are not “biblical” but they sure are other worldly.

“I need to get back to it. There’s food in the fridge. Just don’t touch my meal prep,” I hate that sentence just left my mouth.

“I don’t want your meal prep,” he walks behind me with our bodies facing the mirrors and his hands snaking up and down my body. “I want you. If you wanna get some training in I can show you somethings,” he says into my ear while tucking my hair back. So unfair.

“I don’t have-“

“You see this?”, he picks up my yoga strap. Out of nowhere he runs in front of me to kick the back of my legs. We both fall to the floor. He has me pinned down and starts tying the strap around my wrists.

“This is called a constrictor knot. In the event you have a disobedient girl giving you attitude, this knot comes in real handy,” he pushes his hand up my shirt to grab my breast. He moves it back down into my leggings and starts rubbing.

“Fuck. I could do whatever I want to do to you right now. You’re so wet. I cannot wait to get my cock inside you.”

I feel his fingers slip in and out. I let out a whimper. The sounds of my wet cunt make him growl. With a loud grunt he rips my leggings off. His fingers are back inside me and moving with fury. His eyes are hungry and he plants his head between my thighs with force.

As his tongue moves around my clit, I let out some “Ah! Ah! AH!”s. I start thrashing my body from the pleasure. He takes his vibranium arm to hold my hips down making me immobile.

“Whatever I want to do to you. Don’t make me repeat myself again. Now what do we say?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He sits up to free himself from his shorts. I am towered over with his cock in my face.

“Get to work doll. Let’s practice some breathing exercises for your training today.”

He puts his cock in my mouth and I start to move my head up and down. His length hits the back of my throat and I cough choking on it.

“Such a good girl for me trying so hard. Now you’re getting that pussy filled.”

He pulls on the strap to lift me up for a sloppy kiss with my taste still on his tongue. He drops me to the floor again to pin me under him. In no time his cock is thrusting into me with a speed so fast it shakes my body back and forth.

“I’m really making you mine this week. I’m gonna fuck you in every room I can. Get ready to drop whatever you’re doing for me whenever I want.”

I need this honestly. Losing my body to him feels more comfortable than I ever thought it would. My helplessness to his pounding excites me with both safety knowing he’s the one doing it and anticipation for what he might pull next.

He pulls the strap up so that I mesh into a seated position with him. He pumps into me with an unmatched passionate kiss. His free hand runs through my hair and gives it a pull in the back. He releases a heavy breath and moan. I’m squealing as he hits my g spot and my clit rubs against his body.

“Fuck Bucky! You’re killing me!”

“Good thing we know you’ll go to heaven then.”

He turns me onto my stomach so that I’m facing the mirrors. I arch up my ass anticipating his next move. I grip onto the strap preparing to take him. He kneels behind me and picks my head up.

“Look at you catching on. Now watch yourself get fucked.”

He slams his cock back inside me and thrusts with power. My high pitched screams are music to his ears. He grabs my ass and slaps it back and forth a few times.

“I thought I was being your good girl?”, I tease.

“Don’t act like you don’t get pleasure from my punishments. You might be my good girl right now but doesn’t mean I won’t give you a reminder of what’s in store for bad girls.”

“Not fair,” I laugh. Wrong choice.

He flips me over swiftly. He pulls tight on the strap to put the end in front of my face. His grip tenses around it.

“You remember this? I decide what’s fair and what’s not. You’re all tied up Angel. You take what you get and believe me you’re gonna get it.”

He throws my arms down then smacks the side of my ass with his vibranium hand. There is pleasure in his punishments. His movements are the hardest and fastest I’ve felt from him since our first time.

“I’m getting close to giving you my next load. I’ve loved filling you up with all my cum and watching it drip out you. Shows you’re all mine. No one else gets this pussy but me.”

My body tingles at his words. I give him an affirming mhm. He grabs my face.

“I wanna hear you say it ‘Bucky this pussy is yours’ if you want this load. Sing me that beautiful song Angel and it’s all yours.”

“Bucky…,” he hits the spot again which throws me off track.

“Bucky this…,” he cues for the rest of what he wants to hear. He lifts my hips up and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I scrunch my face then open my eyes wide as I feel my own cum.

“It’s yours! It’s yours! I promise it’s all yours!”

Mmmmh! I feel his huge burst of cum in me. He pulls out and it was definitely the biggest load of all the rounds so far. My hands are set free with some mild brush burns. He grabs my hands and gives them each light kisses.

“I’ll be more careful next time bunny. You just get me too hot,” he groans. I get a kiss loaded with tongue.

What a wonderful first morning with him back!

#avengers smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #dom bucky barnes #marvel smut #winter solider smut #winter solider x reader #endgame #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x you #bucky smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky fic

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noras-dc-shenanigans · 2 years

Text

Half-Ghost Billy Batson

(Inspired by a post that I can’t find😡😤. If you recognize it please let me know! I have searched. Everywhere. I remember it starts off with Billy contemplating how he’s different and his dad didn’t want him, and then Danny shows up.)

Danny Fenton grows up, gets crowned King of the Infinite Realms, and then discovers that time it weird in the Zone if the portal you came through doesn’t stay open. He’s been ruling for over a century, but it’s only been a few years on Earth. Early on he made sure to keep popping in and out to visit family and friends and keep up a human identity, and so was able to age normally too.

By the time he’s 25 (2015), he’s in a serious relationship with a woman named Mary Batson, and has decided to tell her about his other life. Before he can however, he is ‘killed’ in an explosion at his civilian job as an engineer.

He’s fine, but was weakened enough that he reverted to his core, and Clockwork retrieved him and took him to the Realms to heal. He does, goes discreetly looking for Mary, and discovers it been a year and she died in a car accident. Heartbroken, and with no civilian identity anymore, he starts spending all his time in the Zone, only making weekend trips to see family/friends.

Unknown to Danny, Mary was pregnant, gave birth, and little William ‘Billy’ Daniel Batson was saved via emergency C-Section after the accident and placed in foster care, because she had no family and no one looked into the father’s well enough. Mary only survived long enough to name her son and give them Danny’s name.

10 years later, Billy gains the title of Champion of Magic. The influx of so much magic also triggers his… other genes.

As Billy, he is faster and stronger and heals quicker and if he concentrates really hard he can turn invisible and walk through things— at least for a few moments. He also discovers that he’s essentially a cat, since he can hiss and purr and randomly sprout claws.

Billy only uses a mirror if he needs to give himself a haircut, but the next time he looks he notices the tiny little baby fangies. And that his eyes are more teal than blue, his hair has a few white spots in it, and his ears point a little more. No wonder no one’s been bothering him lately.

(He’s basically 75% human and 25% ghost, so unless he gets hosed down with pure ectoplasm and also eats a bunch of the stuff, he’s not going to be able to ‘go ghost’. He’s just hasn’t got enough Phantom in him to manage it.)

As Captain Marvel, the magic of his patrons and the Rock of Eternity kinda work as a counter-measure against the partially-dead thing, as the magic sees it as a threat to the Champion’s health and fights the genes’ effects like it’s a virus. So the magic is basically shutting down all of the actual powers he gets as Billy. But he does get little things that the magic doesn’t care about, like sharp little fangs and pointy ears.

Billy just thinks it’s all side effects of the magic, and uses his new ‘adaptations’ as Billy to survive on the streets.

The Justice League comes knocking about 6 months in, meet this huge chipper dude who can evenly match Superman and uses magic in a way that causes other magic users headaches and rage, and invite him to join.

That’s when they notice that he’s a bit… strange.

Not like, in a bad way! Just, the other day Batman did the ‘appear behind you from nowhere’ thing and when Marvel noticed he full on hissed at him, like a feral cat, before looking sheepish and apologizing.

A few weeks later, they’re rescuing some kidnapped meta kids and they find Marvel sitting cross-legged on the ground, several toddlers draped over him and a very distinct purring noice emanating from his chest.

A week after that, and Superman confides worriedly that sometimes Marvel’s heart will just… stop beating, and/or he’ll stop breathing, and that when his heartbeat is gone there seems to be a strange hum coming from the center of his chest.

Then another 2 weeks later, after a meeting, he and Flash were talking and they both laughed, but when Marvel did he just flashed these very sharp incisors that Flash swears are fangs.

And then one day they call him in to help fight some demons and one growls at him and he freakin growls back, bares his definitely fangs I told you so! And just freakin launches at the thing. They basically roll around like a couple of territorial tomcats, and at first Marvel is throwing punches and lighting but then the demon bites him and Marvel just… bites back.

And then he like… sprouts claws?! And then it really is like a cat fight, with these two just hissing and growling and clawing and biting until Marvel does something and the demon breaks away and flees, whimpering like a kicked dog. Superman has to snag Marvels cape and dodge some claws to keep the guy from chasing after it.

He’s covered in claw marks and scratches and there’s blood like everywhere but once they drag/convince/bully him into going back to the Watchtowers medbay, there’s nothing. The wounds are gone, the blood is fading away, and the suit is repairing itself. Marvel just shrugs and says magic, which, fair enough.

But then they have to have a talk about what the hell that was, and all Marvel can say for his feral-cat behavior is “I just heard him growl and had the uncontrollable urge to bite him. Like, he’s in my territory, and he’s gonna challenge me like that? Heck-no.”

…Territory? Territory?! What does that- does this possibly-immortal being consider all of Earth his territory? Is he secretly a Fae? An eldritch being in less terrifying form? Part demon himself? A cat transformed into a person?

Marvel shrugs.

“I never met my parents, so honestly any of those have a chance of being true.”

Oh No. Oh F*ck. Those were rhetorical!

Meanwhile, Danny is back on Earth and finds out from Tucker that Mary had a kid. They discover this because he was reported missing after he ran away and the cops tried to find out if there was any more family, and do a better job looking this time. Danny is ‘dead’ so they called the Drs Fenton, who told Jazz, who told Tucker, who dug around and realized oh sh*t, Danny has a son.

But they can’t tell Danny this, because some a-hole in a different dimension is trying to invade the Infinite Realms, so Danny has to go kick a**. The time in the other dimension is weird too, so several years pass on Earth by the time he stops the threat, locks away the demon Trigon, and finds a nice home in the Realms for the demon’s half-human orphaned daughter Raven, who fits in very well with the ghosts.

So, Danny’s back and between Tucker and Danny they figure out what city Billy is in, and Danny spends days flying around invisible feeling for any ectoplasm. He finds it, finds Billy facing down some wanna-be teenage gangsters, and watches with growing pride as his son hisses at them with his widdle baby fangs oh my Ancients!

So after the other kids flee from the ‘crazy demon kid’, Danny invisibly follows Billy back to his current hideout in the basement of an abandoned warehouse (only someone Billy-sized or smaller would be able to fit through the window, and then they’d have to do it again to get into his little blocked-off closet. Smart. Very smart. I have such a smart kid, the family will Love him!)

Danny doesn’t want to freak his kid out— strange man+small space=bad no-no— so he just settles himself in front of the exit and starts chirping. Calling.

Billy, who has never heard the sound before, still knows what it means. Can’t resist following it out of his hidey-hole. Sees the man, cross-legged on the ground, sees his blue eyes flash green-green-green and knows.

“Hi, Billy. Is so good to meet you!”

——————————

2015: Danny=25

2016: Billy born

2027: Billy=11, Danny=27

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2

@stealingyourbones

Hope you guys like this!

#DC #DP #dc x dp crossover #Captain Marvel/Shazam #Billy Batson #Danny Fenton #Danny Phantom #Mary Batson #Justice League

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bitethehnd · 6 months

Note

Hii, love your writting! ❤️❤️ Can i request one where JB and reader are seen kissing at a party and fans freak out on social media and the next day they look at the posts together?

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ style !

pairing : julien baker x fem!reader

synopsis : after a fun night out celebrating the boys’ new album, you and julien wake up to madness

cw : really nothing, just fluff and an accidental hard launch. some sexual innuendos, actress!reader because i said so, femme!reader, phoebe being a menace

you were a fairly well-known actress, julien was a fairly well-known singer. the two of you should have probably known to be more cautious if you didn't want your business showcased all over enews, but neither of you were thinking about that. the boys had just released their album 'the record' last night at midnight. it had done very well on the charts so far, and there was nowhere to go but up from there. you were insanely proud of the women you loved and all of you were celebrating their achievement.

muna had joined you and the boys at the bar you were at. the four of you all sprouted grins as you stood up to greet them. you pulled jo's girlfriend, kelli, in for a long hug.

"hi, baby," kelli said into the hug. you smiled brightly and kissed her cheek.

"thank you for coming, kells. i know it means the world to them that you're all here," you said sweetly as you pulled away.

"are you kidding me? jo wouldn't shut up about seeing them all week." you and kelli started to giggle loudly. jo and julien turned around in amusement at the sound.

"and what are you ladies laughing about?" jo asked sarcastically and raised one eyebrow. julien walked up to you and wrapped one arm around your waist securely, a giddy smile on her face. it made you practically beam to see her so happy.

"i was just telling kelli my elaborate plan to steal her away from you. you better watch out, jo," you winked at the curly-haired woman with a smug smile. jo fake gasped and pulled kelli away from you. the four of you all started to laugh loudly your antics.

"who's ready to party?!" phoebe suddenly yelled over the loud music. you all started hollering and made your way to the bar top. some ordered drinks, but you and julien opted for soda instead. she was sober and you had decided when you two got serious that you wouldn't drink around her. she insisted that it was fine and it didn't bother her in the slightest, but you stuck with your decision. you were sober in spirit for her.

as the drinks were downed, all of you made your way to the dance floor. you cheered in delight as a rihanna song came on, pulling julien to dance with you.

"babyyy," julien whined, "you know i can't dance."

"anyone can dance, jules. now c'mon, just follow my lead," you said and placed her hands on your hips. you guided her movements, instructing her to move her hips in sync with yours. you put your arms around her neck as your bodies got closer together.

julien leaned up and burrowed her head in the crook of your neck, sucking marks onto the delicate skin. you giggled softly at her actions, moving your torso right up against hers. at that point, you two were practically grinding on each other. you could feel the outline of her abs through her button up shirt, and she was right at eye level with your cleavage that was probably spilling out of your top.

neither of you were thinking about anything other than each other, so you failed to see the woman that was recording you sitting at the bar.

after about ten minutes of dancing, you pulled julien's face away from your neck and told her you needed a drink. she, of course, followed you to the bar and ordered a cherry coke for you.

the bartender filled up the glass for you and slid it across the bar. you took a long sip from the straw as julien watched you. she took the drink from your hands and did the same. you sat down on a stool, and she moved to stand in between your legs. you placed the drink down and wrapped your arms around her neck, her pulling you by the waist to get you closer.

"have i told you how proud i am of you?" you asked her as you played with her hair. she let out a soft chuckle.

"have i told you how beautiful you are?" she countered with a smug smile. you laughed loudly and slapped her on the shoulder.

you leaned in to give her a sweet kiss. she immediately responded, kissing you back passionately and gliding her tongue along your bottom lip. you gave her access, letting her tongue into your mouth. you two made out for a few minutes before phoebe came into sight and wolf whistled loudly. you laughed and julien just flipped her off. that night was perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the next morning, you and julien woke up to phoebe banging on the guest room door. the two of you and lucy decided to stay in the blonde’s apartment, which in hindsight was a bad idea. phoebe stayed up all hours of the night doing god knows what and woke the two of you up so early.

“phoebe! cut it out!” julien whined and rolled over, shoving her head under a pillow. the door practically busted open and phoebe came running in.

“guys, oh my god. you have to see this,” the older woman said and almost threw her phone at you.

you sighed and took her phone from her hands, the blonde bouncing on her feet anxiously. what could have made her so worked up? you didn’t know.

phoebe’s phone was opened to twitter. the tweets on her homepage were filled with videos and pictures of you and julien from last night. your eyes practically bulged out of your head as you scrolled.

“oh my god, julien, get up,” you said with a hardy laugh. the dirty blonde rolled over and glanced over your shoulder at the phone. her jaw was slack and she had a horrified look on her face. phoebe came and sat next to you on the bed as the three of you saw the leaked photos.

“this is…” julien trialed off and tilted her head.

“kinda funny…” you said monotonously before looking over at your lover and bursting out laughing. phoebe joined you in the giggles as julien looked at you guys like you grew three heads.

“guys! it’s not funny!” julien tried to reason, but she herself was starting to crack up.

“it’s funny. like, really funny,” you let out through your laughter. it sucked that someone had invaded your privacy, but the two of you were making out in the middle of a bar, so really it was your fault.

“it’s julien’s fault for practically fucking you in public,” phoebe shrugged.

“i was not!” julien exclaimed dramatically and hit phoebe with a pillow. the blonde fake gasped and hit her back. you were stuck in the middle of their childish fighting, trying to get out of the way of the flying objects.

“can you guys shut the fuck up! some of us would like to sleep!” lucy suddenly yelled from her bed down the hall.

“sorry, luce!” you yelled back.

“alright, get the fuck out, bridgers,” julien said and pointed a finger at the blonde.

“fine, baker,” she sassily responded before taking her phone and walking out of the door.

you and julien looked at each other as she shut the door, soft smiles on your faces. you hugged julien and gave her a kiss on the forehead, she cuddled into your chest.

“do you think we should tell people we’ve been together for two years?” julien asked jokingly as she looked up at you. it was surprising that you guys managed to keep your relationship a secret for so long.

“do you think we should tell people we’re engaged?” you joked back as you two fell into laughter again.

the rest of the morning was spent scrolling on social media to see people’s reactions. most were surprised and overjoyed, and some said they knew all along. which was obviously a sham because the two of you were ‘just friends’ to the public until now.

the tiktok edits made you blush and people’s shocked tweets made the two of you smile. after a while, you two decided to post an instagram story to your profile. the picture was the two of your hands laced together. julien’s unique tattoos made it obvious it was her, but the real surprise came from the diamond ring proudly placed on your ring finger. let’s just say twitter had another field day after that.

#bitethehnd #julien baker x reader #julien baker x you #julien baker au #julien baker fanfic #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #muna fanfic #muna x reader #sapphic #wlw #lesbian #bisexual

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fenikorg-talks · 6 months

Text

Alastor couldn't believe that Husker of all people had convinced him to do this.

He really didn't want to do this, but apparently, there was "no one available to do the job". What a lie. Literally, anyone in this goddamn city would have been able to do this if it wasn't because the damn tv was nowhere to be seen. Valentino had a rage sprout during the blackout and Velvette was getting him distracted before he actually hurt Vox in the process. What a bunch of losers. Who in their right mind let those three take control of the city while he was away? Lucifer wasn't doing a good job, it seems. Well, who was he to judge.

While walking in the dark streets he encountered all kind of sinners. The kind that took advantage of the darkness and the kind that panicked about it. Some of them were upset of having no signal. That's what happens when you put all your trust in an unstable individual. Charlie had told him to get to Vox's tower as fast as possible, but a little time spent in the darkness wouldn't be too bad for their health. Their brains had already rott with those screens, they should touch some grass.

Vox's tower was defended with all its artifacts and armaments, so Alastor opted to use his shadows to get into the building. Inside it was as dark as his shadows. Alastor followed the halls that he remembered leading to Vox's office. It was exactly where it was seven years ago, and when he managed to get in, it was the same as before, but a little more full of monitors. Vox's sharks and some sparks from the cables were the only sources of light. Alastor walked to Vox's motionless body, resting in his chair. He would never admit that he got the goosebumps, but he saw how the cables were still pressed against Vox's TV head, and that something was twitching in the monitors.

"Vox", he tried to call his old pal, but there was no verbal answer. Instead, one monitor glitched and, with the screen still dark, one single little red light turn on. He was listening. Good. Alastor remembered when this kind of thing used to happen before; Vox would try to use more power than he could handle and end up lost on his wires. Alastor always helped him get out. But this time, it wasn't as if he was stuck, no, it looked as if he was hiding from something. "It has been a long time, hm?" There wasn't anything to say, either way. Vox didn't look like he wanted to talk, less to Alastor of all people.

"Just so you know, I was practically forced to be here, so don't get your hopes up," he remembered when Vox used to be so hyped by the mere fact that they were gonna be sitting next to each other on an overlord's meeting. He hoped that hadn't changed between them. Then again, they did have a fight right after he got back.

"Get out of there and bring back the light to the pentagram already, Vox," he was getting tired of this, there was no way this prick was gonna listen to him anyway. The lights, slowly but steadily, started to return to every house in the pride ring. Well, that was something. Still, Vox was on the monitors, doing who knows what. Alastor sighed, of fucking course this asshole didn't have the guts to face him again.

"I doubt the Radioo Demon was just forced to come and calm down a pathetic crybaby," Vox's deep voice said through the speakers. His voice was hoarse, Alastor noticed, as if he had been crying. Vox was right, tho. He wasn't completely forced, but he had been convinced by a very persuasive bartender cat who knew how to read him like a book.

"It's not as if it was my first time seeing you this way. Besides, your partners were somewhat busy at the moment, and there is no one else who knows about your little addiction to getting lost on those electronic snakes."

"Wires," he corrected but otherwise said nothing. Alastor picked at his nails waiting for Vox to do something. He did nothing.

"Well, time's up! I came here with a job and it's done. Have a nice mental breakdown, my dear fellow, may we never see each other again!" Sparks and glitches surrounded the monitors and an electronic wave passed through the wires until getting on Vox's head. His screen tilted on and his face appeared, but he didn't move. Alastor knew that it took a while for Vox to regain full control of his body so he took advantage of those seconds to examine him. His face was drawn in the most boring, disinterested look Alastor had ever seen him do, he wore big eyebags and looked sick overall.

Sometimes, Alastor wished to not smile at all. This wasn't a moment in which he should be smiling, and yet he was. It might have been convenient for him in numerous times, but with Vox, he just felt fake. And Vox knew that.

"If your face wasn't sewn, would you truly be happy to see me?" Vox didn't look up when he talked, but Alastor could see his disappointment in his monotone voice. How he changed in the seven years they were apart. It was almost as if he was a completely different demon.

"Like this? ...No," he summoned his shadows and got out of that sad pathetic tower. On the streets, he took one last glance in his direction, dropping his gaze. He had expected to be meeting his number one fan and only friend. Instead, he met a depressed overpowered overlord who didn't remember when was the last time he truly smiled. And to be honest, Alastor didn't remember when was the last time he was truly happy either.

(I don't know what kind of crack was I on when I wrote this but I found it on my notes, so I edited the fucking grammar and now here it is, enjoy)

#staticradio #radiostatic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox

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sapphires-and-silver-linings · 1 year

Text

Half-Life | Chapter One

Leon was alone.

Pairing: Plaga!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Chubby!Paranormal Investigator!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Body Horror, Suicidal Thoughts

Notes: This fic came to me in a fugue state after pulling an all-nighter. I was just really thinking about the potential for Plaga!Leon angst and what it would be like for him to live as one of the monsters he used to put down. I also think it's dismal how little Leon/Chubby!Reader content there is right now, so I made it myself. I'm not sure if I want to leave this as a one-shot or make it a short chapter fic, so let me know what you guys think!

Masterlist | Next

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Leon succumbed to the parasite.

He managed to defeat Saddler and his monstrous puppets, being able to somewhat retain his mental state without a master to control him.

He got Ashley to safety, but he told her he was staying behind, knowing what might happen if the government got its hands on him. He figured it could go a few different ways: they’d either kill him immediately because he would be deemed a threat, they’d experiment on him, or they’d use him as a bioweapon—the thing he’d been fighting against this whole time.

Ashley tried to convince him that she and her father would do what they could to prevent those outcomes after all he’d done to save and protect her, believing (as a young girl would) that he could be fixed and live a normal life.

Leon knew better than that. And so he asked her to tell the world he died when she made it out. Despite her protests and her tears, she did just that.

He then met with the merchant after saying his goodbye to Ashley. The strange man let Leon trade his weapons and equipment—things he’d never need to use again—for basic supplies to ease his transition into living in the wilderness.

Leon had always preferred civilization to the great outdoors. The irony that he'd spend the rest of his life in the middle of nowhere after lamenting this fact was not lost on him.

With a cheerful adieu, the merchant packed up his things and left, never to return.

Leon was alone.

At first, it was almost peaceful.

He lived off hunting the animals in the woods and spearing the fish in the lake with his new scorpion-like tail. He even maintained a friendship with the dog he helped (that helped him in return), aptly naming him “Wolfie” because Leon had never been the creative type.

Even with his animal companion, though, Leon felt… lonely. He had lost everything; his friends thought he was dead, he no longer had a purpose to fulfill beyond survival, and his humanity had been ripped away from him—one of the few things left he ever really held onto while fighting monsters for so long.

He craved human connection more than anything but knew he had to settle for what he had.

And so, when the occasional curious hiker appeared nearby, he did what he could to scare them off. He rarely had to do much to ensure that they wouldn’t come back, using the decomposing bodies of the Ganados and the carcasses of his prey as “decorations” around the entrance of the village.

Of course, there was the occasional brave soul who ventured into his new home. Leon had to take matters into his own hands by either darting between trees and buildings to feed their paranoia or simply showing himself from a distance, standing to his full height and glaring them down.

They always ran screaming after that.

The longer he lived alone, the less human he felt he was, giving in to baser instincts to survive and provide for himself and Wolfie.

But he tried to maintain the human side of him that somehow still persisted, in any way he could.

He’d talk out loud to himself and his furry friend. He holed up in the village chief’s house and took care of it to the best of his ability. He would set traps for rabbits and birds. He even used the old motorboat to go fishing in the lake, though it eventually ran out of fuel, forcing him to rely on the four appendages that sprouted from his spine as makeshift paddles.

He did his best.

The years slipped by and his loneliness only grew.

Wolfie was old now and Leon worried what would happen to the little sanity he had left when his only companion died. He did what he could to keep the wolf-dog comfortable, ruffling his clawed hands through his fur as he’d done a million times. But now gray tinged the animal’s coat, and Leon wondered how he never noticed it before.

What about Leon, then? Was he aging, too?

In a fit of rage, during the early days of his transformation, he had broken all the mirrors in the house, not wanting to look at himself and what he’d become.

So now he traveled to the well outside, staring at his rippling reflection in the dark water.

The skin of his face was still smooth—or what was left of it after his mouth ripped apart to make room for the rows of deadly sharp teeth that burst from his gums.

His once blue eyes were now a vibrant, glowing red, his vision having been improved vastly by becoming the ultimate apex predator. Just another step further from his humanity, he thought.

He kept his hair the way he always liked it, though learning to use the rusty scissors he found while out rummaging in the village had been a challenge with his new needle-like fingers.

His body had been slowly… growing… over the years. Elongating. His arms and legs, once thick and corded with muscle, were thinning into gangling limbs.

God, it was like a second puberty. But infinitely worse.

He barely fit into any of the clothes he’d collected, the articles simultaneously too loose on his form but far too short to cover his lower abdomen and calves. He didn’t bother with shoes anymore, none able to be pulled onto his taloned feet.

It was fine, however, as the ground wasn’t painful to traverse now (even on the roughest of terrain), and he no longer experienced the cold or the heat in a way that could affect him. That was one of the few “improvements” he welcomed over time, after facing the sweltering summers and winters blanketed in snow.

Despite these changes, though, Leon realized while studying his mirror image that there wasn’t a single indication of aging to be seen. Not a gray hair or wrinkle in sight.

Internally, he began to panic.

If he didn’t age, would that mean he’d be stuck living like this forever? That once Wolfie passed, he’d be alone for eternity?

He wished he had just gone with Ashley and hoped whoever greeted them would have gunned him down on the spot. At least then he wouldn’t have had to live this half-life, practically a ghost already haunting these woods.

He wondered if even the cruelty of experimentation or being used as a weapon would be worth no longer facing this suffocating isolation.

He chided his younger self for his optimism that being left behind was the best option.

It was set, then. After he buried his dog, he would finally pluck up the courage to kill himself. It wouldn’t be easy for him. Leon had always been a fighter, never wanting to give up. But he was tired, and there was nothing besides his animal companion that was keeping him tethered to the world. He was listless.

And yet, there was still a part of him that hoped something might change. He of all people—if he even had the right to call himself a person anymore—knew better than to let hope lead him.

It had been a decade of the same, hadn’t it?

The monotony of his days was almost too much to bear. He thought years ago, before he was infected, that he would enjoy a life like this. It was peaceful in a way, wasn’t it? He realized now he missed the chaos.

A far-off noise suddenly jarred him from his thoughts.

Another “improvement” had been his enhanced hearing. He could pick something up nearly a mile away.

He tilted his head to better decipher the sound.

Footsteps.

Well, that wasn’t unusual, given the area. It was full of wildlife, after all.

But then he heard something else, something that made his whole body freeze up.

Something so distinctly human, there was nothing else it could possibly be.

He heard singing.

+++

Your family and friends had called you ridiculous when you told them you wanted to hunt the supernatural for a living.

Perhaps they were right, but it was a passion of yours to seek out the weird and wild. Maybe that was why you were so compelled by what went bump in the night.

You weren’t sure you truly believed in ghosts and cryptids and the like, but you had an open mind and the ambition to seek out answers. Given the state of the world and the B.O.W.s that terrorized it, you supposed the supernatural might not be far removed from reality, anyway.

You had always been deemed “strange” by others. Had always been on the outside looking in, wondering why being normal never came easy to you.

It didn’t help that your body type—short and plump—made you feel further removed from everyone else. You never thought you were ugly or unattractive, but that didn’t stop others from deciding you were, based solely on something so trivial.

But you weren’t completely alone. Your family loved you, you made good friends, and you even had your fair share of relationships over the years.

You learned that normalcy was bullshit, and so you embraced your strangeness.

And that’s what led you to this abandoned village, hidden deep in the Spanish woodlands.

The locals of a nearby town had told you of the horrors that occurred here. Stories of missing hikers and a cult seeking to take over the world through a parasitic bioweapon; of the daughter of the former United States president being rescued by a young agent who died tragically while saving her life.

You knew all of this already, of course. You had done your research on this place and what had happened to it.

You knew that Ashley Graham made it home safe—traumatized but mostly unharmed. You knew the cult and its monsters had been completely wiped out. You knew the place was practically a ghost town, the forest beginning to reclaim the ruins.

None of that, though interesting, was what brought you to this village, however.

What caught your attention was what came after.

Many were curious about the place when the news broke, but only a rare few dared to visit it. Fewer still ever made it past the gate.

But those who did spoke of a creature who lurked in the shadows. They claimed it was tall—nearly seven feet—and its eyes glowed red. No one had managed to snap a photo of it in their state of panic, but the descriptions were all consistent.

El Escorpion, they called it.

It seemed like a solid lead, and even if you never found this recently discovered cryptid, the tragic and insane history—not to mention the creepiness factor—of the location would be enough material to write a compelling post for your paranormal blog.

Despite your family and friends’ initial concerns about your career of choice, you were doing well for yourself.

You still had to work on the side to pay for your rent and all the expenses that came with your investigations, often cranking out clickbait articles for a quick buck. But your blog had only recently popped off, your posts receiving a ton of new followers after an emotional visit to the ruins of Raccoon City (and likely a dangerous one, considering the radiation).

People liked your methods. They liked that you explained the story behind every location you visited with great detail and respect, but managed to keep it fun while still building up a spooky atmosphere.

If you were honest, the popularity of your blog wasn’t something you really cared about. Although it was nice to see the numbers rise and people engage with your hard work, the content was controversial and you were often belittled for your passion. The only thing you wanted was to get as many followers as it would take to receive sponsorships in hopes of making enough money to take your investigations to new heights.

It definitely wasn’t easy trying to live your dream, but so far it had been rewarding. You hoped this trip would be, too.

You had just exited the vehicle of the friendly (and very, very chatty) local who was kind enough to offer you a ride to your destination. They were a fan of your blog, they told you, and warned you to be careful.

Once they drove off, nothing could have prepared you for the horrifying sight that greeted you when you began your journey.

Bones and rot littered the ground—were even strung up on the surrounding trees like party streamers. Several of the carcasses seemed awfully fresh, and you weren’t sure, but some of the older remains looked… almost human?

No, you had to be imagining it.

But if the visuals didn’t make your stomach turn, the smell definitely did.

Ignoring your watering eyes and the gag reflex threatening to trigger, you pulled the collar of your shirt over your nose and snapped a few promising pictures before moving forward.

It was a bit of a walk, having to travel through an old hunting lodge that had seen better days in order to finally reach the village gate.

You balked at the human skulls that lined the top, a chill lurching up your spine at the realization. Instead of allowing the sinking feeling in your gut to control you, you took some more photos instead, determined to see this through.

You drew in a deep, calming breath and opened the gate, having to use most of your strength to push through the rust that coated its hinges.

You practically vibrated with a mix of excitement and anxiety as you looked at the village before you.

It was terrifying to do this alone, but you had grown used to the solitude during your investigations. You reminded yourself that the most you had dealt with in the past were other people pulling pranks on you and wild animals going about their business.

So, you continued on, not wanting to feed the needling fear that someone or something could have been left behind by the cult.

You spent some time in the village, singing to yourself to help settle your nerves, before leaving out of another gate. You didn’t have a map of the area, no one having been much further than the village in the ten years since its abandonment, so you simply had to explore on your own and hope you didn’t get lost.

You were walking down a wooded path, taking in every detail as you meandered forward, when you heard a rustle in the trees beside you.

Whatever it was, it must have been huge. You prayed it was a deer.

Gathering your courage, you faced the direction of the noise and drifted closer to the edge of the forest, your movements careful and deliberate in hopes of not scaring whatever it was off or goading it to attack you.

It was broad daylight, but you were struggling to see into the shade cast by the densely packed foliage.

“I won’t hurt you,” you whispered gently as another movement from whatever it was jostled the bush in front of you.

It was stupid, but you felt inclined to reach out your hand, hoping it wouldn’t get bitten.

That’s when you saw the pair of glowing eyes staring at you through the leaves, roughly waist-height to you.

You felt some sense of relief at that, believing it to be a woodland animal.

That is, until the eyes started to move up.

You froze in place, hand still outstretched, as a massive creature stood upright before you, their features obscured by shadow.

Your mind screamed at you to run but your legs remained locked in place.

This is it, you thought. I’m going to die.

Well, at least it was a good run.

The creature stepped forward into the light and you were met with possibly the most horrifying beast you had ever seen.

It was over a foot taller than you, its form similar to that of a human, if not for the four long, spidery appendages that unfolded from its back, a scorpion tail whipping behind it.

It had talons on its feet and long claws instead of fingers, the tips of them dangerously sharp, its worn clothes hanging off of it awkwardly.

Your eyes eventually climbed back up to its face, its mouth split nearly to its ears as it bared its fangs at you, glinting wickedly in the midday sun.

Your gaze met those glowing red orbs once more, the creature’s expression akin to a glare.

Something about its face seemed so familiar to you for some reason, the mix of confusion and terror only further cementing you to the ground.

You still didn’t move when it took another step closer, its leg nearly brushing your still outstretched hand.

“You should’ve been running by now.”

You were startled by its voice, the sound deep and masculine. And pleasantly human despite the obvious threat.

You knew you had heard it before.

He leaned forward, his head level with yours as he searched your face, looking clearly befuddled by your refusal to escape.

“You’re practically begging me to eat you, little rabbit. But I prefer a chase.” He sounded serious, but he made no move to touch you.

Your hand finally fell to your side and you swallowed, hard.

“You’re lying.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, barely visible behind a curtain of choppy blond hair, before replying, “Excuse me?”

You took a shaky breath. “You’re lying. You’re not going to eat me. You’re not going to hurt me at all. There hasn’t been a disappearance in the area for ten years and everyone who’s come here since has lived to tell the tale.”

He laughed in surprise, running a claw through his hair. It was so uncanny how human it was. And how familiar. “Maybe I’m just a bad hunter.”

“Well, if those animal remains at the front of the village path are anything to go by, I highly doubt it.”

“Not all of them were animals, you know.”

“The ones that weren’t are too old, though, aren’t they?”

“You’re observant, I’ll give you that.” He folded his long arms over his chest, red eyes looking out across your surroundings, sounding almost sheepish as he added, “You know, this might be the most I’ve talked to someone I should be eating instead.”

He shook his head and chuckled to himself before meeting your gaze.

And then it clicked.

“You’re… You’re Leon Kennedy, aren’t you?” you breathed.

He stiffened at the name. “How do you know who I am? Did someone tell you? Did someone send you here?”

He took another step during his inquisition, your noses nearly touching, his hot breath fanning across your face as you glanced at his sharp, sharp teeth.

“I’ve seen pictures of you. Interviews, too. You were all over the news when you survived Raccoon City. And again when President Graham claimed you died in action.” You paused for a moment in thought before you asked, “Did Ashley Graham know you survived?”

He scoffed, pulling back and stepping around you to add some distance. “I asked her to tell the world I was dead so I could live the rest of my days in peace as this… monster.”

“Ah, and all these curious visitors are like annoying kids in your front lawn?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Something like that. Why are you here, anyway? You seem kinda far from home.”

“Well…” It was your turn to look sheepish as you tried to explain, “I’m a paranormal investigator, and I came here because there were cryptid sightings in the area. Guess you’re the cryptid. Mystery solved.”

He rushed back over to you, grabbing your arm. The movement jostled you and made you flinch, but it didn't hurt. He winced at your reaction, though, and loosened his grip. “Listen, please don’t tell anyone I’m here. I don’t need this place becoming a tourist hotspot. Not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet..? What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, just… Please just promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “The problem is that I spent a lot of money on this trip, and if I don’t have something to show for it, my career could flop.”

He sighed deeply, releasing his hold. “Look, I can make it up to you, okay? If you’re strapped for cash, I have a bunch of gemstones, jewelry, and expensive little knick-knacks. Take what you can carry, got it?”

You thought on it for a moment, considering your options. You wanted to respect his privacy, but it was difficult to let something this big go. However, if he was willing to pay for your silence, you supposed you couldn’t complain. Maybe you could even buy better equipment when this was all said and done.

“Okay. Deal.”

He moved to shake your hand in his clawed one but pulled back when he noticed you eyeing it nervously. “Great. We’ll get you your stuff and send you on your way before it gets dark.”

“About that… My ride isn’t coming to get me until tomorrow morning. I was planning to camp out here tonight,” you revealed.

He gave you an incredulous look. “You’re telling me you heard rumors about a monster living in the area and you decide you’re going to spend the night here? No backup plan?”

“What can I say, I like to live on the edge. Besides, I didn’t really believe there was a monster out here, anyway. Egg on my face, I guess.”

He rubbed his eyes with his palms as he let out an exasperated breath. “Right, well I guess you could spend the night, then. There aren’t any B.O.W.s left in the area except me, obviously. But some of the wildlife isn’t exactly friendly. Would be safer for you to stick with me.”

Your lips parted in surprise at his generosity before you offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. I appreciate it.”

“Please, just… Just call me Leon.”

“Well, thank you, Leon,” you said, proceeding to give him your own name.

His lips peeled up in what could almost be described as a bashful smile before he pointed further down the path. “C’mon, then. I can make us dinner.”

You shocked him by hooking an arm through his, beaming up at him.

“We better get to it, then.”

+++

We.

Leon hadn’t heard someone say that in a long time.

Maybe things could be different.

--------------------

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