#just all the time this man looks like a fucking court jester he looks like he graduated from clown college but just barely
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realized i never swapped these two and then it made me realize how funny them fighting is. world's worst bisexual makes dead wife fight angry wolf ex who never married him but they sure act divorced about it
#blazblue#relius clover#ignis clover#detonator: ignis#valkenhayn r hellsing#edits#palettes#bb swaps#i think i MIGHT have actually and just not saved it#its really funny putting relius's colors on ANYONE FUCKING ELSE and realizing oh this man literally dresses like a genuine circus clown#just all the time this man looks like a fucking court jester he looks like he graduated from clown college but just barely#its funny that their fights could like.... theoretically be a toss up also#like yeah yeah valk's getting somewhat weaker as he ages and relius is like the most powerful magic bitch basically ever i guess#but theyre still somewhat equally matched canonically i think????#i guess it heavily depends and isnt really addressed outright in a situation that isnt their arcades or stories in cs#its hard to say for sure without relius having ignis as a leg up cause goddamn valkenhayn is Going to fucking end him#which tbh fully supported valk tries to be normal and not kill but i would also become violent if i just Saw Relius#just anywhere. motherfucker could be like living his life getting groceries and i would divekick him#valk was right about this one tbh the man is rancid the vibes are terrible and the fashion is an atrocity#nobody has ever kicked relius's ass for no reason he always deserves it forever for being world worst everything 100 whatever years running#dad? scientist? husband? Person In General?#you name it and hes terrible at it in some way#extra funny cause i mean he IS a genius and shit but idk the ethics suck
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Propaganda
Fernando Lamas (The Merry Widow, The Girl Rush)—no propaganda submitted
Danny Kaye (The Court Jester, Hans Christian Andersen, White Christmas)—he's such an absolute joy to watch dancing, swordfighting, singing, you name it...underrated genius and SO hot beneath all the antics! post the scene of him wooing angela lansbury from court jester i beg you [below the cut]
This is round 2 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
"It's easy to overlook because he was a comedic actor, which we don't always associate with hotness. But look at any publicity still and you'll see, he was absolutely hot."
"y'all sit down, shut up, let me tell you about danny kaye. HOT. HOT MAN. him? in the court jester? swordfighting basil rathbone so so badly?? the bit where he's hypnotised and romancing angela lansbury??? this man in the inspector general—i've never seen anyone look better in regency fashion in my life. people dont realise how hot he is because he's so FUNNY but he steals the show every damn time!! "
"i will never not love him for refusing to get surgery to his nose when the studio system told him he looked too Jewish. he was also an underrated genius as well—but for this poll, let me just say he is HOT, secretly gorgeous, and i have never seen a man look so good in period clothing literally ever."
youtube
"he was hot!!!!!! an ambassador for unicef!!!!! he is so fucking funny i dont know !!!! my beautiful hot ginger jewish king"
youtube
"i would like to submit the engagement clip from white christmas for danny kaye. Vera ellen is a smoke show but man. something about danny kaye crawling away from her and then figuring out the SchemeTM... That's hot folks!"(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEM-xZtALnc)
youtube
"Would also add his early life section on wikipedia is a JOURNEY (fun)"
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To go with my last post about Thistle acting capital-W Weird™ around Laios, it really does make perfect sense when you think about their history from Thistle's perspective instead of through Laios' like we actually see.
Imagine being Thistle, and you're like, I don't know, 14, and you're the royal court jester and adoptive son of your King. And you just got a baby brother and you're so excited about it. It is, without doubt, the happiest day of your life so far. While you're celebrating a few of your family's servants and guards come in to help. One seems somewhat confused about the situation but you probably assume he's just a new hire, it makes sense to bring in added security when there's a new prince around. You don't see this knight again anytime afterwards, but you're not exactly in charge of hiring or firing guards, so it's not really any of your business where he wandered off to.
You are Thistle, and you're now probably around 40 or so, still rather young for an Elf but a fine young man nonetheless. You're all dressed up to the nines and eager to perform your newest flute composition in honor of your little brother's wedding, and you're so, so proud of how far he's come. You helped your father raise him well. And just as the ceremony's about to kick up, and the people are starting to get drunk and make merry and dance, the King, your father, collapses. Poison, assassination, you hear people cry out. But as you run towards him you slam right into one of your guards- and have the extremely fleeting thought of "WAS that one of our guards? I haven't seen them around but they seem so familiar somehow"- but as soon as the thought occurs you're snapped right back into the present, and the fact that your father was murdered right in front of your eyes, and that you couldn't do a thing to stop it.
It's been a small time now, enough that you've had time to lay your King to rest, and to prepare your brother for the throne. It's his coronation day. You should be happy- you are PROUD, of course, of how far your little brother has come- but it is not the joyous day that you would have hoped for, and instead one of mourning for you. And looking around the room as the Kingdom's crown changes bearers, you see a guard, rather out of place. And this time, you have time to process why he feels so strange here. You've seen this man before. You KNOW you've seen this man before. This is the man who you have seen exclusively on the best day of your life and the worst, with no trace of him elsewhere in your life, and he is here, now, again. And for one who is clearly a Tallman, he hasn't aged a single day. There is something wrong with him, and with you, and you feel that if you keep crossing paths it will only end in disaster for you. So you try to kill him. And he disappears, right in front of your eyes. You don't see him around after this. You pray you never will again.
You are now The Mad Sorcerer- no longer, even, the false name given to you by your King. Only the title used by those who want to kill you remains in people's minds. It's been so long now. You can't even count how many years it's been, but you know your life has reached centuries upon centuries past what you were meant to live. And so has everyone you've ever cared about. In these years you have done everything you can to preserve the last bit of what you can call home, trapping yourself and your entire kingdom in an oasis of immortality. So what if the people may grow to resent you? You're protecting them. It's not your fault people may mistake your kindness for cruelty. Though many adventuring parties have tried, none have gotten through your defenses, so as long as you keep focused on your goal things will be fine. Except for this last week or so, where one particularly troublesome party has been making their way further than most would dare venture. And you swear on your Kingdom's throne, if this party includes who you think it includes, you are going to have a fucking aneurysm.
You are the Lord of this Dungeon, and unfortunately for you, your house has just been broken into. Even more unfortunately for you, you know exactly who did it. When you step through your front door, everything is unsettlingly clean. You wonder why in the world the man following you for your entire life would take the time to tidy your house if he's here to psychologically torture you. And then a thought hits you like a punch to the gut, and you rush upstairs, and you see all of your diaries taken out of their hiding spots. And you know that if they took a look through them they would find roughly 200 pages of glittery pink gel pen writing out repeatedly,
✨ This motherfucker again ✨
#i know i said in the tags of my last post that i didn't necessarily think Thistle and Laios had a gay thing#BUT i have decided exactly now that i am going to rarepair ship them exclusively because their dynamic is very fucked up and extremely funn#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#laios touden#laios dungeon meshi#thistle dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon spoilers#dungeon meshi spoilers#death tw#death trigger warning
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From the outside Eddie presents as a person with very little care for the opinions of others. This however is a shield, an armour class so high that no roll is beating him. Or so he likes to think. Truth is, it's shitty armour that would dissolve in water. But he can't let anyone know that. Needs to keep up appearances, needs to keep performing.
This would all be fine if it weren't for the fact that Steve Harrington is aiming a metaphorical water pistol at his heart at point blank range.
When did it start? Oh, who knows!
Eddie knows, oh Eddie knows alright. Shamefully it wasn't even a mind-meltingly-he’s-so-hot-take-me-now moment that made Eddie's weevil brain latch onto the idea of Steve and never let go. No. It was during lunch period, because is there really a more romantic setting to have your heart shattered and reformed into the image of your new love? You see Eddie was attacked! Ambushed by his feelings! The traitors! He was mid conversation with Jeff about the best unconventional food combinations. Eddie was arguing for bananas with sliced cheese and was not being given a fair hearing on the matter when he turned his head at the most inopportune moment. The moment that ruined everything. Because in that head swivel Eddie saw Steve being Steve. He saw 'The Hair' without the mask. Steve had been tapped on the shoulder by one of his sport boys and had turned around to display a perfectly normal serious face. Except, on that serious face was two carrot sticks placed in his mouth like walrus tusks before he decided to further ruin Eddie by breaking out in the most disgustingly beautiful fit of laughter. Then! Then he had the audacity to take the sticks out and shove them up his nose. This was complete idiot behaviour and Eddie had never been more endeared in his life. Fuck.
'Ground control to Munson, anyone in there?' Before Eddie could register what was happening Gareth had appeared from behind and started knocking on Eddie's head. Gareth could try all he wanted, Eddie was in a severe case of ooey gooey heart eyes over The Societal Norm that was Steve Harrington.
'You okay man? You look vaguely constipated. More than usual I mean. You eat too many of those vitamin gummies again?' Gareth had taken a seat next to Eddie now and was promptly swapping out their lunch trays. His chocolate pudding to Eddie, Eddie's vanilla to Jeff and two applesauces to Ian. In return Gareth got an extra pretzel, no sweet tooth on that boy, which they all agreed was concerning and confirmed their theory that Gareth did not have earthly origins.
'Dude shut up. And anyway it was ONE time. AND WHO TOLD YOU?' He didn't mean to shout but when a man's bowel's movements are brought up in a public setting what else is he to do? And...and oh no. Oh no, no. Eddie had turned back to get another sneaky look at Steve and was met by the whole table staring back. The whole table including Steve. Steve that was now making eye contact with Eddie while smiling in a deliciously confused way. Delicious?? Why was he giving Steve food adjectives? Who was he becoming? Next thing he'll be wanting to take a bite out of him!...maybe...maybe that wasn't such a bad idea actually, file that in his ‘think about later’ box.
'Harrington is totally staring at you. Eddie stop looking at him, stop! Do not engage with them! I swear to god I just want one lunch without drama!' Jeff said, finally breaking into Eddie's consciousness.
Feeling himself going bright red Eddie returned to his body just as Steve waved with a carrot stick in hand. Bright red was now a thing of the past. Eddie's face was crimson. Eddie’s entire body could probably be used as a beacon for airplanes looking to land. Eddie's only option now was to seek employment as a court jester in order to make use of his permanently altered complexion.
Internally screaming, and maybe very quietly outwardly screaming too, Eddie swivelled abruptly in his seat. Fixed his gaze on the table in front of him and absolutely did not think about pretty Steve looked with a vegetable stuck in his face holes. Except he did and didn’t stop thinking about it for a long time.
#something lighter anyway#not what i had intended to start on but it's what got finished#maybe possible potentially a part two maybe! idk!#eddie gets swoopy tummy squeezey heart evertime he sees carrot sticks#by passes the area when he goes shopping with wayne faster than usual#starts BLUSHING#wayne has questions but at the same time...does not want to know#and I think that's fair.#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things
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Like a Train | Arven x GN!Reader
Rating: Teen+
Summary: You and Arven are best buds. After he makes a minor change in his appearance, you're left wondering why you suddenly want more than that.
Author’s Note: My headcanon age for Arven is that he’s a young adult, somewhere between 20-24 years old. If this proves to be wrong in the future, please consider him to be aged up to this range!
Likewise, for the sake of the continuity (i.e. Little Buddy and whatnot), you have a similarly tiny stature to the main character in Pokémon SV. For the sake of all of us, your character here is not a teenager lol, but instead roughly the same age as Arven, give or take a few years.
Finally, the academy takes students of all ages (as you see in the game), but I wrote it with more of a college setting in mind.
Thank you for understanding!! ^^ Please see the end for more notes x
Check it out on ao3!
“Aha. Perfect timing to make eye contact,” Raifort calls out, followed by my name. She then proceeds to ask a question about what she was just discussing, knowing that I wasn’t paying attention.
Instead, I was engaged in a quiet, heated discussion with my desk-mate, research partner, and one of my only friends in Paldea so far… about our teacher’s hair.
Why does that one piece of her fringe move so much? Is it sentient? Is it a glitch in the life-simulation? Would it bleed if she were to cut or shave it off? Does she know it does that? Does she do it on purpose somehow? This is important stuff!
“Get fucked,” my accomplice whispers as I stutter out gibberish. I try to gather my thoughts and come up with something to appease Raifort.
Once I realize it’s to no avail, I give up, lean back in my seat, and shoot my friend a squint. One that silently says, ‘I hate you, if she gets mad it is totally your fault, I will kill you if you make this any worse.’
Smirking, Arven’s leaning on our shared desk with both elbows, with his hands against his forehead. He’s using his right one to hold a pen, as well as keep his bangs out of the corresponding eye, and he’s slightly turned towards me. Making sure he can inconspicuously watch me suffer at his expense, with that pretty teal gaze of his. I am but a jester in his court. Luckily, Raifort catches on and calls the man out.
“Oh, perhaps you would like to answer the question instead, Master Arven?”
His head whips up, and he drops his bangs (and nearly his pen). “N-no thank you, ma’am.”
Raifort sighs, letting this exchange slide with a curt glare, and continues her lecture.
I snort back a laugh, covering it up by clearing my throat. Then, I softly parrot “Get fucked,” into Arven’s ear, nudging his elbow with mine. Just as we both break into a fit of giggles, we’re saved by the bell.
“You’re a prick,” I laugh as I shove my notes into my backpack.
“No you,” Arven quips. Very original. “What are you doing after this?” he asks, shifting the conversation.
“Well,” I ponder, “You wanted to scope out the area where our next titan allegedly lives this week, yeah?” He nods, walking in front of me as we exit the class. “Cool, then let’s go!”
“What? Now?!” I nod and hum enthusiastically as I wrap around to his left. He looks out the nearby window at the sunset, and his one visible eyebrow furrows as he turns to face me. “Don’t get me wrong little buddy, I love the enthusiasm, but it’s a bit late for that. It’ll be dark by the time we’re on site.”
I let my trusty Fuecoco out of its Pokéball. It looks up at us as we slow to a halt, and I present it to Arven, arms stretched out towards the Pokémon. “Our flashlight!”
Fuecoco, wanting to help, does its own little pose. Its arms promptly spread, and it balances on one stubby leg, shaking as it tries not to fall over.
Arven bites back a smile and rolls his eyes. “We went to a ton of classes today, I don’t want to do more work.”
I scoop up Fuecoco and scratch under its chin before we continue walking. “We can camp, too...”
Arven deadpans me, pursing his lips in frustration. He loves camping. There’s no way he’ll turn down a late-night adventure if it ends with a good ol’ camp!
“I’ll let you make the sandwiches,” I sing, trying to convince him further.
We reach the entrance hall and pull off to a nearby pillar to get out of other students’ ways. After placing his backpack on the ground next to his legs, Arven crosses his arms and leans against the pillar. I lean against the nearest wall, about 2 feet away. Fuecoco is having a blast inspecting all the passing students from my arms, occasionally waving to their accompanied Pokémons.
“You won’t just give them all to the lizardmobile?” he asks, staring down at me with contempt.
“Shouldn’t you be flattered that ‘Raidon loves your cooking?!” I whine. I shake my head, and knowing Arven’s retort already, I cut him off before he can even start. “Either way, no promises, but I swear to Arceus I won’t complain about being hungry.”
A heavy sigh leaves the ambiguously blond’s nostrils. “…Go on,” Arven prompts, wanting more bribes.
I squint at him. He gives me a smug grin. “Hmm,” I dramatically hum in thought. “I’ll pay for the ingredients.”
“And?”
“I’ll get stuff to make s’mores, too.”
“And?”
“What more do you want from me, dude?!”
His smile is now downright evil, and he stays silent. He untucks a hand to vaguely gesture at me, then crosses it back into his arms, waiting for me to continue.
“I can, uh.” I look around for ideas, but I’ve got nothing. “I dunno…” I wince, knowing that ‘I dunno’ is not a very convincing offer.
He chuckles.
Noticing how sleepy Fuecoco seems to be getting, I return it. Now, it’s time to use my last resort.
“Pleeease?” I pout. Fidgeting with Fuecoco’s ball. Tucking my arms behind my back and swiveling my upper body to feign innocence. Batting my eyelashes for added effect.
It looks like there’s a hint of rosiness to Arven’s cheeks as he gives in, clutching his fists. He turns his head in another direction, shutting his eyes. What a drama queen! I beam, though, knowing what this means.
“Fine.” I open my mouth to cheer, but he holds up a palm to stop me. “But we’re only investigating for an hour.”
I scowl. “2 hours.” I make my way to the nearest hallway and dig through my bag for my student ID.
“Hour and a half.”
“3 hours!”
“No?”
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!” He laughs, following me. “Go pack before I change my mind.”
“You don’t need to?” I question, swiping my card at the station closest to the elevators. Arven reaches behind himself and pats his obnoxiously large backpack. I roll my eyes in response. “Wait here, then. I’ll try to be quick.”
_______________
Arven was right. After a quick stop at Deli Cioso, we made our way on ‘Raidon to the steel titan’s location, where it was pitch black. Only had the moon, the stars, and Fuecoco as our guiding light.
We tried to work with it: Observing the various burrows in the cliffsides, the uniform cracks in the ground, the way the earth would occasionally rumble beneath us. But when Fuecoco was startled by a cheeky Misdreavous, it accidentally lit the corner of my notebook on fire. We took that as a sign to call it a night.
Arven and I found a nice spot to make camp, high up and overlooking a distant Levincia. I can’t wait to go there for the gym challenge. Maybe I’ll try to spend a few nights there with my prize money.
I take a break from my daydreaming and turn back to see Arven setting up a foldable table to make food on. Or, at least he’s trying to. Both of our teams are very eager to get in his way. My Tinkatuff keeps whacking its hammer at the table legs, shaking it up, while Arven’s Toedscruel pokes at his back, wanting attention.
“Need any help?”
“No,” he stubbornly mumbles.
I roll my eyes and find a spot to sit by the campfire. My back is up against a tree, and I’m on a spare blanket that I brought specifically for this purpose. Figured it’s better than letting our pants get all dirty on the ground.
Just as I’m getting cozy, I hear a frustrated “Oh, you little shits!” I peer up, and my friend is looking at me from his workstation, his features riddled with defeat.
The table is covered in sandwich-picks, salt, pepper, and lettuce, which Arven’s Greedent is eagerly munching away at. Poor guy can’t do anything about it because my Eevee is parkouring between his arms and shoulders, slipping right out from his grasp every time he thinks he can grab it.
I can’t help but laugh at the mess unraveling before me, but get up to help anyway. After returning each of my Pokémon to their balls, Arven is able to do the same.
“Not having a chance to battle all day must’ve really amped them up,” he grumbles, cleaning the spilled food and condiments.
I lean over the table, opposite from him. “Excuse me for wanting to take a day off from the treasure hunt to make sure neither of us will flunk out.”
“I didn’t even need most of the classes we went to today.”
“Technically, you do,” I point out. “You’re, like, way behind on credits, no?” He scoffs, and incoherently grumbles under his breath. Trying to think on the bright side, I add on, “Cheer up, bud. Being able to pick when we go to which classes and who we go with is cool, at least. My last college would never.”
“True,” he grunts, lugging out a portable generator to plug his panini press into. “Still doesn’t make me enjoy any of it.”
After rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, Arven dips his head down, pulling a hair tie out from one of his pockets. I’m about to nag him, like, ‘The better you do, the sooner you’ll be done, and I can help you study,’ and all that. But instead, he stands up straight again, and my brain short-circuits.
Forearms. Broad shoulders. Both eyes. Ponytail. Baby hairs— oh, he’s pinning them back. Those eyes. Both eyes! Eyebrows. Neck… thick. Hair… up… Oh Arceus the puffy vest is coming off too.
Hrng. Shit.
Arven says something but I don’t hear him. Have his lips always looked so nice? Since when is he this attractive? How do I look? Do I look okay? Does he think I look okay?
A large hand snaps in front of my face, and I hear my name being sternly spoken by the man in front of me. I blink a few times, coming to. How long was I staring for?
“W-wha—?”
“Everything okay, amiguito?”
Both of Arven’s bushy eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks concerned for me, albeit amused. My cheeks feel warm with blush, and I can only hope that he doesn’t notice it.
“Y-yeah, uh,” I struggle to form words. “Tired, I guess.”
His eyes zigzag around my face… and he looks… so... Oh no, oh no oh no oh no he is so hot. And he totally can see how red my face is with how bright the nearby fire is. He’s about to pry — I can tell by his arms folding across his chest — but I make a swift escape.
“Oops! Leftsomethinginthetent!”
I can comfortably stand up straight in our tent, but opt to fall to my knees, curling into a ball while I try to get my act together.
I’ve thought Arven was cute ever since I met him a few months ago. But I’ve never felt, like… like this. It doesn’t make any sense! I’ve never looked into his eyes and felt Butterfrees in my stomach. I’ve never looked at his mouth and wanted to kiss it. I’ve never looked at his neck and wondered what it would look like covered in love bites. My love bites.
Or… I don’t think I have…?
I spend a few heartbeats wracking my brain for clues. Seeing if this is as sudden as it feels like it is. But like a train, I’m hit with thoughts of all the stolen glimpses I’ve taken in passing. Of my stomach doing flips when Arven murmurs my name a certain way. His smile sometimes being all it takes to brighten my worst days. The way I’ve memorized the feeling of his hand wrapped with mine, pulling me off the ground or ripping me away from danger…
Oh god.
It makes complete sense, actually.
How in the world am I supposed to go back out there and focus on anything other than him, now that it’s all clicked?
Phew. I gotta breathe. I can do this! I’ll just act how I usually do. That shouldn’t be too hard, right? Right!
I check my appearance with my phone’s camera, take another deep breath, and emerge back outdoors. Rather than meeting Arven at the table, I sit by the fire again. I feel eyes on me, and feeling hopeful that it’s a wild Pokémon, I look up at Arven… who’s looking at me.
“What?”
“¿Qué pasa?” he asks. “You seem weird.”
“I dunno what you’re talking about, I’m fine. Peachy as a pecha berry.”
“Sure...”
“I am!”
He sighs, and continues assembling our sandwiches. “Did… did I do something wrong?” Arven asks.
“What?”
“I-I do really appreciate that you want me to do well in classes, if that’s what this is about. It’s amazing that you help me out as much as you do, and I’m sorry if it didn’t seem like—”
My brows furrow as I cut him off, “What?! Arven, i-it’s fine, I get you. This has nothing to do with that.”
“Aha!” He whips around to face me after putting one of the sandwiches into the heated press. “Something is up.”
My mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find words. Then, I frown. Then, I look at the fire. If I ignore him, he’ll surely drop it, right?
Wrong.
I hear footsteps, but don’t look up. I see something crouching near me, but I shift my eyes the other way. Then, I hear a thump in each ear and see a shadow in my peripherals. I finally look up, and Arven’s arms are outstretched to either side of me. When I meet his eyes, I realize that his face is closer than I could’ve ever expected it to be. Oh Arceus above.
“A-Arven?!”
“Please let me help you, bud. All I want is to be able to help you the way you’ve been helping Mabosstiff and I.”
I’ve only ever known Arven to be persistent, and a little clingy, and self-conscious enough to max out both of those traits at certain times. Realistically, I should’ve seen something like this coming. But even if I did, nothing could have prepared me for him to cage me against a tree. Face inches from mine. Both eyes boring into mine with concern.
What am I supposed to say?! ‘Sorry, but you’re ridiculously attractive, and apparently I have feelings for you, and I only realized that because you pUT YOUR HAIR IN A STUPID FUCKING PONYTAIL—‘
He addresses me again, softer this time. My eyes are trained on his smooth lips, drinking in the way they ebb as he speaks my name. I snap out of my trance, and when I look into his eyes, there’s a certain vulnerability I’ve only seen come out when it comes to his partner Pokémon.
Oh god damnit.
There’s no getting out of this.
I let out a shaky breath, and all I can manage to squeak out, is “Y-you… you’re really handsome, is all. Caught me off guard.” I mean, it’s half-true.
I look down, worried about what expression I’ll see in Arven’s eyes. I mean to look ‘through’ him, but instead I’m focused on his lips again. I gnaw at my own bottom one to stop myself from leaning in towards my friend’s.
When I notice how silent he’s been, I bravely peek up, and his cheeks are a deep, tamato berry red. His eyebrows twitch, unsure of where to settle. It’s adorable. And his mouth is open ever so slightly, like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know what or how.
As if the universe is trying to save me, Arven and I smell something burning, and lock widened eyes. I peek past him at the fire, while he removes his palms from the tree and twists his upper body towards the table.
“Shit!” Arven exclaims, scrambling to his feet.
_______________
“I can’t believe you’re eating that.”
I look up from my plate and shrug. “The fillings even out the taste of char.”
Arven laughs. “You’re nasty. Even your dumb lizard didn’t want it.”
“Duh, it has a refined palette.” Through another half-mouthful of burnt bread, melted cheese, and various proteins and veggies, I continue, “It’sh been shpoiled by your herba myshtica concoctionsh.”
Swiping the crumbs of his finished sandwich off his pants and onto his empty plate, Arven responds, “Fair. But still, I could’ve just made you a new one.” He nods over to Levincia, and adds, “‘Raidon could have brought you down there for more bread and back in only a few minutes, no?”
“Well, probably, but I didn’t wanna wait.”
He puts the plate down beside him and puts his hands behind his head, leaning back onto the same tree he had me pinned against no more than 20 minutes ago. His eyes are closed. He looks so peaceful. So pretty…
Nope. Gotta stop. I can’t gawk at him again. I’ve done more than enough of that.
“Plus,” I add to my previous statement, “I don’t like to be wasteful.”
“You're like a Garbodor.”
I gasp, feigning offense. Even though Arven can’t see my expression, the corners of his lips are upturned.
“If I were a pokémon I’d be something way cuter, thank you very much.”
Wanting to get it out of the way, I hork down the last bite of my sandwich. The warmed fillings truly are delicious, but we have no utensils, and I didn’t wanna get my hands even dirtier, so I had to settle for using the burnt bread as a vessel. It’s not exactly an easy eat.
“Sí… Mas pequeño, también,” Arven clarifies.
After chasing my food with a bunch of water, I respond, “Exaaactly.”
“Like… a Wooper.” I open my mouth to agree, and knowing me too well, he holds up a finger to stop me. His lids open slightly as he side-eyes me. “A Paldean Wooper. Not the blue ones you had back in wherever-the-hell.”
I tuck my legs to my chest and snort back a laugh. “Are you telling me I look like a Wooper covered in shit?”
“Are you insulting the fauna of my country?” I deadpan him, and his smile grows. “Also, yes, I am calling you a Wooper covered in shit.” I roll my eyes at his confirmation.
“I tell you that you look good, and this is the thanks I get…” I mumble into my knees.
As if he’d forgotten, Arven’s eyes widen. A thick blush coats his nose and cheeks, and my own face copies. Fuck. Why did I say that? Everything was going so well.
“Y-you… hah,” he lets out a breathy laugh and continues, “You did say that, didn’t you?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” I mutter under my breath, “Arceus, why did I bring that up again?”
Arven leans off of the tree and swivels his body to face mine. “I do.” I wanna punch that cocky smirk off his face sooo badly. Restraining myself, I look down. “I thought I said something to upset you,” he laments, prompting me to look back up. “But instead, you were just in awe of my dashing good looks.” He punctuates his sentence with a flick at his ponytail.
I feel myself getting flustered again, so I can’t think of a witty response. I just laugh into my knees, and hug them closer. The laugh trails into a frustrated growl. Then, I grumble something that I barely even understand, followed by a surprised squeak when I feel a large palm ruffling my hair.
“Seriously, though, what else is wrong?”
“Nothing?” I mutter out while smoothing Arven’s mess.
“What do you mean? It can’t be just that.”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell ya, big guy. The ponytail is a good look for you.”
“...You’re messing with me, ¿sí?”
“Just take the compliment!” I snap. “You’re hot, Arven. I don’t typically function as intended when I’m around people I like.”
Wide, turquoise eyes pierce into mine. “‘Like,’ eh?”
In disbelief that I’m spewing all this right now, I bury my face into my hands. Trying to maneuver around the situation, I ramble, “I mean, you’ve seen me with Saguaro. My ability to form coherent words eludes me when I’m around that hunk.”
“You think I’m hot?”
“Arven.”
“And you like m—“
“Bud.”
“Amiguito—“
“Please stop,” I whine, trying not to actually cry or throw a tantrum.
The crackling of the campfire fills empty space, assisted by the occasional lokix chirp. Waves crash in the distance, but any bustle coming from Levincia is silent to us. A few moments go by, and still feeling Arven’s eyes on me, I sigh.
“It’s just… weird for me,” I quietly explain. “You’re my best friend. I never expected to suddenly be hit with feelings any greater than that.”
“Just to clarify,” he teases, “this happened because I put my hair up?”
“I mean,” I trail off to find my wording. Looking everywhere except his face. “I-I’m sure it was brewing longer than that and I just didn’t realize. It’s dumb, I know, but—”
Arven shuffles over to make more space in front of the tree. Shifting his position from cross-legged to sitting on his knees, he then pulls me closer to him, by the waist, all while his eyes never stray from mine. Then, just like earlier, he traps me against the tree. Last time he did this, his eyes were filled with worry. This time, they’re dark with want. Oh good god.
Dumbfounded by the intimate touch, and how he’s looking at me, and how close we are, and the way he’s now cupping my face with one of his hands and moving his face closer to my face oh my god, I stutter, “W-what are you—?!”
“Cállate, pendejo,” he whispers, just before his lips meet mine.
______________________________________________________________
Author’s Note 2.0, I guess: *I’m not a native Spanish speaker, so please correct me if I’m wrong!! But I went with “male” endings to words because like, iirc, addressing something with a male pronoun is the closest there is to gender-neutrality in a case like this? I think? And I wanted this to be as ungendered as I could make it so anyone can feel welcome :’)
Also! The Raifort hair thing refers to a glitch in my game LOL Idk if it's a universal experience but I thought it would be fun to add in
I hope you enjoyed! Take care x
#arven#arven pokemon#trainer arven#pokemon arven#arven x reader#gender neutral reader#no use of y/n#pokemon sv#pokemon scarlet#pokemon violet#pokemon fanfic#pokemon scarvi#pokemon fanfiction#pokemon arven x reader#unnamed reader#ungendered reader#first person POV#tw cursing#friends to lovers#no beta read#spanish speaking arven#arven x male reader#arven x nb reader#arven x female reader
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Hi - I’ve liked this song for a long time and I was like why not write a huskerdust thought dump with all the feelings this song gives me.
And so I present huskerdust with a whole lot of angst and also love 😭
Warnings: language, abuse, non-graphic sex
—
Husk knew who he was and he knew his place. He was a jester in Alastor’s court, meant only to entertain his malevolent king when the man felt he needed it.
So why did meeting this depressed, and painfully long spider have him questioning everything?
He hadn’t thought anything of it the first time the porn star had seductively inched his finger beneath his chin with a sultry, “Hey~”
Fake. He was so fake, and Husk hated that more than anything - at least Alastor treated him like the plaything he was and never lied to him about his intentions.
The cat pushed his advances away every time - not even bothering to quip back after a while because it just wasn’t worth it. He would just continue to play the bartender part chosen for him by his master and drink himself into a stupor when it was closed so he didn’t have to remember what feelings were like because being numb was better than being reminded he was just there because Alastor thought it was funny.
He may have ignored Angel Dust’s advances, but when the demon started opening up about how miserable he was at his job after being fed enough drinks, Husk started to look at him differently- why would he put on such a lewd facade when such an innocent persona slept beneath the heavy perfume and sexual advances?
He liked this version of him better - vulnerable and a little broken. When was the last time he let himself be vulnerable to another person?
Husk didn’t have to wait long for the answer. A few days later Angel Duet stalked in looking miserable and exhausted. Husk looked at the clock on the wall and read the 7 am carefully - had the demon slept at all?
“I need a drink. Something strong.”
“You look like shit.” Husk hadn’t meant to make the remark, but he rolled his eyes as he watched Angel switch personas like someone had pushed a button in him. He didn’t mean to call him fake but Husk was so fucking tired of everyone coming to him with their problems - and then Angel Dust being so obviously exhausted acting like nothing was wrong pushed him over the edge.
“Call me fake one more time, mother fucker. I dare you.”
The rage Angel Dust exuded had Husk’s stomach in a knot - he bit that down in favor of a smirk and a pointed claw against the white demon’s chest fluff, “Fake.”
He swallowed his guilt as the thin man stalked out of the hotel - he was here to man the bar, nothing more and nothing less until Alastor indicated otherwise. He didn’t have permission to feel empathy for others, so he was going to keep to himself.
He tuned out the rest of the ramblings until Vaggie insisted he go and drag the demon back - he was going to ignore her too, but Charlie looked at him with those eyes and he deflated. Charlie was a good person - she didn’t deserve to feel guilt over a situation where she was just trying to help, and yet she took the blame for all of it. Against his better judgement, he slumped out from behind the counter and mumbled under his breath as he walked out to find Angel Dust.
His intention at the bar was just to observe long enough to let the princess know that Angel Dust was fine, but he saw that shark demon attempt to drug Angel’s drink and all he could see was red. How dare this fuckhead take away someone’s right to choose what they want to do - Angel Dust was clearly having a good time and probably would have consented, but to drug him to take away that choice? Absolutely not.
The fight was a blur and he barely remembered anything outside of grabbing the spider’s arms roughly afterwards.
He forced Angel out of the bar, the taller man ripping himself away from Husk as soon as he had an opportunity. They argued mindlessly for too long before Angel pressed a nerve again, “Stop acting like you give a shit about me - you think after how you treated me, I’m gonna open up to you? Please.” He turned on his heel and proceeded to walk away.
“Maybe I’d treat you better if you were real and not some bullshit version of yourself always pushing my boundaries.” His mind was screaming at him to shut the fuck up but he couldn’t stop himself, “No one in that hotel gives a shit about who you are - how famous…. or hot - so you might as well just cut the act.”
“IT’S NOT AN ACT!” The tears that escaped from Angel Dust’s eyes stopped Husk in his tracks, his chest buzzing with guilt as the younger man continued, “it’s who I need to be- and this? This is my escape. Where I can forget about how much I hate…. Everything!”
Husk reached out unconsciously. Not an act, a shield. Not fake, a diversion.
“A place where I can get high and not think about how much it hurts. And maybe, if I can ruin myself enough in the process - if I end up broken - I won’t be his favorite toy anymore.” He collapsed to the ground, sobs echoing in his chest as he pulled his long limbs to himself in comfort, “And maybe he’ll let me go.”
Husk let himself feel the guilt this time. He wanted to apologize over and over until it came out like a prayer. He was broken and was just trying to keep going. That wasn’t fake, that was strength. A strength Husk hadn’t had in a long time. He sat on the concrete next to Angel Dust and drew in a shaky breath, attempting to get vulnerable like Angel Dust just had been, “I was an overlord once, you know.”
He kept his eyes on his claws, “When you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep yourself afloat. Make deals that you can’t undo. I know what it’s like to regret the choices you make and know you can’t take them back.”
The noise Angel Dust made at the back of his throat confirmed Husk’s suspicions about the man having sold his soul to that Valentino, but he decided that moping wasn’t going to save either of them at this point. He flashed a sly grin and stood, “Your life fuckin’ sucks, huh?”
Angel Dust raised his head, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “Wait what?”
“You’re a fucked up little whiny bitch-“
“Hey!”
“You’re a loser, just like me.”
Angel Dust snarled, flipping him the bird with two of his hands, “Thanks, asshole. Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
Husk let out a laugh, “Listen, sometimes just admitting it can make you feel better.”
Angel rolled his eyes, but gave in after a while, “I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak.”
“Haven’t we all.”
A car parked across the street from the pair, the owner leaving their radio on as they entered the establishment. A soft tune was playing loud enough that the two of them could hear.
Husk reached out a hand, “Cmon, loser. I ruined your night, so let’s dance.”
Angel Dust hesitated, “ On a sidewalk in hell?”
“No time like the present.”
He carefully placed his hand on Husk’s and let himself be helped up. Husk gave a small bow before taking the spider’s waist and moving him around in a circle. It was awkward and stupid, but Angel Dust found himself smiling a little more every second.
“I’m a stupid, drugged up ho-“
“And you know what? I’m a depressed, drunk, gambling addict.”
Angel Dust and Husk had mutual grins as they continued the sloppy dance on the sidewalk in a word of their own. Husk dipped the taller man and they laughed until they heard a, “There they are! They’re fuckin dancing!”
Husk dragged Angel Dust to the other side of the parked car, both of them laughing breathlessly. Husk found himself staring for too long, he closed his mouth and looked over his shoulder as soon as he realized it, “Stay here - I’ll take care of this.”
He fought hard, trying to erase the image of the genuine smile that was plastered on Angel Dust’s face, trying to forget the soft tinkle of his laugh like bells ringing in his ears. The more he tried to forget the more he thought about it, and ended up getting caught by the smallest of the gang of sharks. This was it - he was going to die because he found a smile and a laugh attractive. Fuck.
A bullet shot straight into the middle of the shark’s head and he craned his neck to stare incredulously at Angel Dust who had brought a tommy gun out of nowhere, “I can take care of myself, sweetheart.”
Husk swallowed his arousal down as he heard the yells of the other gangsters behind him - he could admire how hot the spider was at any time after this if they survived, so he sidled up to the taller man’s side and grinned, “Let’s finish this, then.”
After the gang lay dead in a river of their own blood and organs, Husk took a deep breath and looked to Angel Dust, letting his eyes look the tall man up and down like it was the first time he had actually looked at him, “Can’t say I expected that from you.”
“I told you that you don’t know me. Sex ain’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked at the cat, running his fingers through his blood stained fur.
“Yeah. This guy ain’t half bad.” He smiled and offered his arm, “Shall we head back?”
Angel Dust linked their arms together happily and they bantered back and forth the whole way back. It was effortless and fun, and Husk was fucking terrified. But maybe he could indulge and let someone in just this once- they were both on a leash after all, so maybe sharing that pain wouldn’t be so bad.
When they returned, Angel Dust thanked Charlie for caring and then he and Husk sat at the bar chatting over a glass of brandy until Angel Dust started to nod off. Husk called him out and the spider helped him clean up so they could both head to bed for the night.
—
They had been more open with one another after that night, but only after everyone else had gone to bed.
They whispered secret hopes and dreams over koniak, complained about being pets with tequila shots, and reminisced about being alive with a side of amaretto.
The more he got to know Angel Dust, the more his heart swelled when the man walked through the front doors from a shift at work, long legs distracting him from his menial chores though Husk would never admit that part out loud. He had began anticipating Angel’s arrival, a mixed drink ready for him moments before the spider would sidle in.
Sometimes Angel Dust would come in covered in bruises and stains, his eye makeup running, but he still gave Husk a genuine smile before sitting at the bar.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Angel Dust rested his chin in his hand, eyes glazing over, “Nah. Same shit, different day. Some are harder than others.”
Husk slid a fruity cocktail across the bar and nodded, respecting Angel Dust’s wish as he moved to start wiping out glasses.
The silence was comfortable and warm, Angel Dust watched Husk do his cleaning quietly, letting his fingers trail against the lip of his cocktail glass.
“Sometimes I feel like I deserve it - the pain.”
Husk bristled and turned quickly to make eye contact, “Angel-“
“I sold my soul to him, so I deserve this, right?”
Husk held his hand in a fist before leaning against the bar close to Angel, understanding the sentiment at least even if he thought Angel deserved the world handed to him in a box with a giant ribbon to keep it contained, “It feels like that most days, huh?”
“Yeah.” Angel looked down at his half empty glass, “Have you ever been in love?”
“Is that why you signed the contract?”
Angel Dust downed the rest of his drink and let out a sigh, pushing the glass to Husk to ask silently for another, “He was so kind to me until I signed that fuckin piece of paper. It was like a light switched as soon as he owned me and I started making movies for him.”
Husk obliged and poured him another mixed cocktail, pushing it to the spider’s dainty fingers, urging him to continue.
“I think it’s my fault he changed and I want to go back to when we were happy, ya know?”
Husk let out a sigh, “Do you want my opinion?”
Angel Dust looked up at him hopefully and Husk continued, “You can’t help when you fall in love with a liar - the man you fell in love with never existed.”
“So I’m hopeless?” Angel Dust sighed sadly, looking at the wood of the bar top carefully.
Husk let his paw lightly hold onto the spider’s arm, making Angel Dust look him in the eyes again. Husk smiled, “Maybe, but you’re not the first person to fall for fake sweet words and you won’t be the last.”
Angel smiled back softly, taking a sip from his new drink, “Thanks, Husk.”
There was another comfortable silence as Husk got back to his cleaning, but Angel interjected again, “You didn’t answer me, though. Have you ever been in love?”
Husk hummed thoughtfully, “I think so. Once. She loved my brother, though, and used me to get to him. I think I fell into a pattern of distrust after that. Love can really ruin a guy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Val says he’s the only one who will ever love me like I deserve.”
Husk turned around again and looked over the bruises with his mouth in a thin line, “If this is how he loves you, that isn’t love. You deserve to have a love that makes you happy, not one that makes you feel like a slave.”
Angel Dust looked down, a light pink dusting his cheeks, “Thanks, Husk.”
Husk smiled, “You don’t have to thank me for telling you the truth.”
When Husk turned around Angel Dust found his voice again, “You deserve that kind of love, too. Maybe more than anyone I know.”
Husk made a noise like he disagreed, but decided to humor the sentiment, “Maybe, but I think I’m happy enough to at least have one genuine friend that I don’t really need that kind of love right now.”
“Am I… are we friends?”
Husk looked over his shoulder at the surprised expression and laughed, “I mean, I’ve never told anyone else half of the things I’ve told you. And I trust you - I think that makes us friends.”
Angel Dust grinned, throwing the rest of the drink back, “Aight. I’m gonna take a shower - see you tomorrow, friend.”
“Good riddance- you smell like vomit and cum.”
Angel Dust laughed, “Yeah, yeah. If I made it into a perfume you know your ass would have it around to remind you of me.”
Husk chuckled as he heard Angel Dust’s footsteps ascend the stairs.
—
When Mimzy came to visit, Husk was on edge. The last time he had seen that bitch, she had “innocently” maimed a man’s wife - the man happened to be an extremely powerful overlord at the time, and Alastor tore the demon limb from limb.
But Lucifer, King of Hell, was here to visit his daughter today and Husk had an awful feeling about this.
He decided to try and talk Alastor into making her leave, but he had forgotten his place and his owner had to remind him just what he was: a pawn that needed to mind his business if he wanted to continue to live. He shouldn’t have spoken back to Alastor, he knows better, but irritation at being called a pet consumes him and the comment leaves his throat before he can comprehend what he’s just done, “Big talk from someone who’s also on a leash.”
The chain against his neck had him spiraling - he bristled and shook in fear as Alastor grew into his demon form and threatened him. He barely registered the words as the lights flickered, but squeaked out a soft “understood” that had Alastor leaving his presence behind.
Husk had eventually gained his footing again, eyes shaking and sweat sticking to his body and fur. His legs threatened to give out from under him as he tried to make his way back downstairs, but he barely made it five steps before he collapsed again, breathing heavily. His mind was a jumbled mess and he couldn’t catch his breath, breathing sharply and black clouds started entering his vision. He tried to calm himself down, but his claws were ripping at the fur at his chest as he tried to give himself some relief.
He barely heard his name being called, but jerked out of the hands as someone tried to hold onto him, he panted angrily, “Don’t fuckin touch me-“
“Husk- let me help you.”
He growled, facing the man whose face managed to calm him down but only in anger. Everything else was elevated and his eyes fluttered, threatening to close and not open back up.
Angel Dust removed Husk’s bow tie and pulled off his suspenders before bringing the cat demon into a tight embrace, “Five things you can see.”
Husk panted, his eyes opening and darting along the room, “Red…. Carpet…. Wall… Door… White.”
Angel Dust nodded, “Four things you can touch.”
Husk’s wheezed, his hands gripping at Angel Dust’s shoulders, “Fur, floor, clothes, hands.”
“You’re doin’ great, Husky. Three things you can hear?”
His breathing was labored but not as desperate and his vision was starting to clear, “Your voice, my voice, m-music.”
“Two things you can smell?”
“Perfume… it’s like cinnamon and cedar.”
“My favorite - one thing you can taste?”
“W-whiskey.”
Angel Dust was holding him, their knees were touching and his lower set of arms were keeping Husk close while the other set kept him held to his shoulder, softly petting the fur on the back of Husk’s neck. He felt grounded and safe in the embrace, but he knew if Alastor snapped his fingers that this moment would never happen again. He gripped onto Angel Dust harder at the thought, trying to press this memory into his skin. Angel Dust gave him a light pat, “Better?”
Husk finally had the strength to let go, but part of him was sad at the cold air that hit his fur at the separation, “Sorry-“
“You always help me, what kind of a friend would I be if I let you apologize for having a panic attack? I’m here to help. What do you need?”
Husk searched his eyes for far too long, trying to push down the foreign emotions threatening to spill from his tongue, “I need a drink.”
Angel Dust snorted and stood, extending an arm to help him up. He didn’t ask if Husk needed help walking when the demon accepted his hand to stand, he put his arms around Husk’s shoulders and made unrelated jokes as they made their way back down to the bar.
Husk had managed to throw back one shot of whiskey before the ground shook. Mimzy dove for the floor and Husk snorted because he fucking knew that bitch was going to bring trouble.
He avoided Alastor’s stare once everything calmed down, and the radio demon’s smile turned into a smirk as he sidled up to the bar, “No smart remarks, Husker?”
Husk swallowed before pouring a glass of rye for the man, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
Alastor practically purred as he downed the shot, “You’re such an obedient pet, Husker. I’m so glad you learn your lessons so quick.” He laced his fingers underneath his chin, his grin widening even more, “I’d hate to have to punish someone else next time you decide to test my boundaries.”
Husk snapped his eyes to meet Alastor’s finally, “What do you mean?”
Alastor chuckled, standing, “I don’t enjoy smashing bugs myself, but we have a friend who is an excellent exterminator. If we end up with a pest problem I may just have to ask our mutual friend to step in.”
“You would make Nifty do that?!”
Alastor hummed in amusement, “It seems like you have gotten attached to the hotel patrons, Husker. And it seems like the only way to emphasize my punishments is to punish others instead.”
“You’re sick-“
“Glad you noticed.” Alastor gave him a curt pat to the head, “Forget your place again and I will make good on this promise. Good night, Husker.”
He let himself down two bottles of whiskey once Alastor slipped into his shadows. He threw the third bottle against the wall after he chugged it with a grunt in frustration.
“Woah, kitty cat. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Angel Dust’s voice hit his chest painfully - he almost wept as the demon stepped behind the bar to help clean up the pieces of glass. He looked up at Husk, pink eyes glowing in concern, “Need to talk about it?”
Maybe it was the liquor possessing him, but he leaned down and placed a soft kiss to Angel Dust’s temple, giving a shaky sigh before standing up straight and grabbing another bottle of whiskey from the shelf, “I’ll be fine. Just need some time.”
Angel Dust was frozen apart from the hand that touched the spot where Husk had kissed him, “R-right.” It took a while for him to stand and discard the broken pieces of glass, but once he did he cleared his throat, “I’ve helped you enough times that I can close this down - go get some rest.”
He looked at Husk who gave him a sad smile, “Are you sure?”
Angel Dust grinned, “I’ve got you - you’re not alone in this.”
Husk put his hand to his chest to slow the beating of his heart, “Thank you.” He turned and left to go upstairs to his room.
—
He had memorized Valentino’s face that night at the club for future reference and almost pounced on the mother fucker, but Angel could handle himself and Husk knew better than to get involved before he was needed. They had gone home, all of them exhausted, and Angel Dust had thanked him for not stepping in, “It made me feel like you trusted I could handle it myself.”
Husk sighed, “If he would have hit you one more time, I would have ripped the flesh off of his face.”
Angel Dust grinned at the thought, “My knight in shining armor.”
Husk snorted and looked up to watch as Angel Dust made his way up the stairs to go to bed. Husk knew Angel could handle himself, but what would Alastor have done to them both if he had found out Husk decided to pick a fight with an overlord with permission? He shuddered at the thought.
—
How could a person make him feel so full and so empty at the same time?
He watched as Angel Dust barked orders at Pentious and his eggs as they worked to fortify the hotel in preparation of the impending angel attack. His chest bloomed with warm feelings for the spider, but deep down he knew the more attached he got, the more it would hurt when Alastor ultimately pulled him into whatever situation happened to follow this current flight of fancy. He had tried desperately to avoid attachments and had never had trouble with it until this hotel. Everyone was so kind and warm, and Angel Dust was so…. different. Also warm and kind, but also beautiful and long and funny. Husk didn’t mean to stare, but Angel Dust had caught him and grinned, “Enjoying the view, Husky?”
Husk looked down, pretending he hadn’t been caught watching as Angel stretched his long arms to hold a piece of wood while Razzle and Dazzle happily head butted nails into it to keep the board up, “I was just waiting to see if your clumsy ass would fall off that chair you were standing on.”
“Me? Clumsy? I have impeccable balance - you should see me on a pole, I practically defy gravity.” He puffed up proudly and sent a wink at Husk before stretching, “Let’s take a break. We’ve been working since Charlie left hours ago and I’m starving.” He wrapped a long arm around Husk’s shoulders and pulled him towards the kitchen, “I make a mean spaghetti- give me fifteen minutes and you won’t regret it.”
Husk sat at the kitchen counter while Angel Dust made easy work of the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder as he finished the sauce, “If this doesn’t make you fall in love with me I don’t know what will.”
Love. Husk held his head in his hands and hummed, “How do you know if you’re in love?”
Angel Dust shrugged, “I dunno - it’s a feeling you get. Like when you think about someone and it makes your heart beat a little faster. And sometimes that person is all you can think about, and it’s annoying but you feel like if you don’t think about that person your brain won’t work.” Angel Dust plated some spaghetti for Husk and placed it in front of him with a wistful smile, “When you have a bad day and you see them, it’s like the bad day never happened because all you can think about is them.”
Husk watched his face carefully, “Is it only happy feelings?”
“No.” Angel Dust sighed, looking off to the side, “When they hurt, you hurt. Sometimes you feel bad about feeling that way and it hurts so bad it makes you want to disappear. And when they don’t want to tell you about what’s hurting them it feels like they don’t need you and you spiral thinking about why they wouldn’t trust you with their feelings.”
Husk placed a fork in the noodles and spun them around the metal, “Is it worth it?”
Angel Dust looked at him, a small smile on his face, “Maybe. Dunno.”
Husk let himself eat the spaghetti and grinned at Angel Dust after swallowing, “This is amazing.”
The spider beamed, moving to put more on plates for the rest of their friends that were working so hard to make the hotel safe, “Well? Are you in love with me?”
“Maybe. Dunno.”
Angel Dust turned around confused, but Husk was already turned around and washing his dish so he could help pass out lunch to the others. Husk held his hands out to take more plates to assist Angel Dust with giving out food and both acted like the conversation had never happened.
—
“So this may be your last night alive and you’re not out there snorting a line off some hunks abs?”
“Nah - you fucked one cannibal pool boy, you fucked em all.”
He couldn’t help the fond smile tugging at his lips, “I guess you really have changed.” He turned around to refill his stock and Angel Dust adjusted behind him.
“You know… Charlie told us to live tonight however we want. So pour me a fresh one and let’s get to livin!”
Husk chuckled and mixed together a drink for the man, pushing it to him once it was finished.
They stayed at the bar long after the rest of the hotel had gone to bed. Husk leaned forward, “You know, you could still probably find someone to mess with if you wanted to - it’s not too late.”
Angel Dust sighed, irritated, “I don’t want to.”
Husk held up his hands, “My bad. I just don’t want you to regret spending your last hours alive with me.”
Angel Dust slammed his hands on the bar top, “Why would I regret that?!”
Husk jumped at the genuine anger, hands slowly falling to his sides, “I-I just mean, I’m not the first person people think of when they think the world is going to end and they need to spend time with someone.”
Angel Dust rubbed his temple, “You’re so….” He looked Husk and sighed, “Look, I want to spend tonight with someone who means something to me.”
Husk looked down at his feet, “I don’t think we should-“
“No, no. I’m not asking you to have sex with me.” Angel Dust’s cheeks turned a soft pink, “I want to ask if you’ll hold me tonight. Just until I fall asleep, I won’t be mad if you leave me after - I just really think I need this kind of comfort tonight.”
The silence was thick. Husk was considering all of his options before something in him told him to just say fuck it, “Just until you fall asleep?”
Angel Dust perked up, “I-Is that okay?”
Husk hummed, “Let’s close this shit down and get it over with, then.”
The spider jumped to his feet and hurriedly helped clean up the mess from the last night alive party.
Husk followed Angel Dust to his bedroom, both of them silent until Angel opened the door and looked back at him, “Y-you don’t have to if you don’t-“
“I want to.” Husk smiled up at the taller man, “It’s just two friends sleeping in the same bed, right?”
“Yes.” Angel Dust swallowed and held his hands up, “Wait here for a sec.”
He disappeared behind his door and the sounds of rustling and movement could be heard. And then silence.
Angel Dust opened the door, breathing heavy, “Okay. Come on in.”
Husk stepped into the room and took in all of the pink, and Fat Nuggets sleepily stretching in the small cushion next to the bed. He smiled at the sight and then looked to Angel Dust who was standing around awkwardly. Husk sighed and took the spider’s hand, pulling him onto the soft pink sheets so that Husk was situated against the taller man’s back. He let his arm fall over the thin man’s waist and let himself take in a large breath of Angel Dust’s scent, his snout as close to the back of his neck as he could get without it being weird. He closed his eyes and let his wings rest behind him, breathing slowing. He was sure that the other man could hear the hard pounding in his chest if he listened close enough, but he was too enveloped in the moment to give a shit.
Angel Dust curled into himself, his back settling against the warmth of Husk’s chest as he got comfortable, “Thank you.”
“For what?” The whisper in his ear made Angel Dust shiver involuntarily.
“For…. Everything.” Angel Dust turned so their faces were inches from one another, “I don’t think I’d be happy if you weren’t here.”
Husk smiled and reached his claw up to move the white fluff from Angel Dust’s line of sight, their eyes searching one another’s carefully, “I think I’d be bored if you weren’t here.”
Angel Dust laughed softly, eyes shining, “Don’t die tomorrow and leave me here with Val and Alastor.”
Husk huffed out a laugh and pulled the taller man’s head to tuck it under his chin, “I would never leave you with them. Never.” He closed his eyes and purred softly. Angel Dust fell asleep faster than he had his entire existence- living or dead.
Angel Dust reached out when he woke up to paw at the empty bed beside him. He peeled his eyes open, disappointed before he noticed a small note left on the bedside table. Scribbled in awful handwriting that made Angel’s chest tighten were the words ‘don’t die and leave me alone’.
—
Alastor had gone missing for two weeks after the fight with Adam - Angel and Husk had held one another every day up to that point once everyone had made their way to their own bedrooms.
Husk was desperately and unequivocally in love with Angel Dust and it wrecked him to know that. He wasn’t good enough for him - Angel deserved a prince that would take him to a tower and pamper him for the rest of his life, not a drunk old man who fell in love after being shown affection. The two of them had shared the brushing of finger tips and jokes only they understood. Husk had even been brave enough to hold the spider’s hand at some point, but he was just being selfish.
He realized it the last night before Alastor had returned. They were in Angel’s bed again, Fat Nuggets happily on the pillow beside his head as Angel sat up, “Hey, Husk?”
Husk kept his eyes on Angel carefully, “What’s up?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Angel didn’t look at him when he asked, and Husk wrinkled his nose in confusion, sitting up and placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”
Angel looked at him, face red in embarrassment, but eyes shining with determination, “Can I kiss you?”
Husk laughed breathlessly, “Why would you want to kiss me? You could kiss anyone in the world and you want to kiss an old drunk?”
Angel looked hurt, “You’re not just an old drunk, Husk.”
Husk looked away at the change in expression, “I think you’d regret it and I don’t want you to feel regret for a choice you make ever again.”
Angel reached out, holding Husk’s face up to stare into his eyes, both hands pulling his face closer, “I won’t.”
Husk was leaning closer as well, “You don’t know that.”
Husk could feel Angel’s breath on his face, eyes boring into one another’s.
“Neither do you.”
Just before their lips touched, Husk felt a pull on his neck and he jerked away, gasping and clawing at the green chains.
Angel Dust gasped in surprise and fell to the floor, hands hovering above Husk carefully, “Wh-what’s wrong?”
Husk coughed, the pressure finally releasing, “He’s back.” He looked up at Angel Dust sadly, reminded of his reality once again, “he’s never going to leave.”
Angel Dust frowned, hand reaching out to Husk carefully, “You mean Alastor? Are you hurt?”
Husk stood, pushing the man’s hand away, “S-sorry. I have to… we can’t…” He bit his bottom lip before leaving the room, Angel Dust left with a single hand extended on the floor as the door closed.
—
They didn’t spend much time together alone after Alastor came back - Husk avoided the sad stares and didn’t keep the bar open as late as he had in the recent past. He drank more to numb himself, Alastor’s voice echoing in the back of his mind about squashing spiders and being an obedient pet.
Charlie approached him carefully after a few days, hands pressing together nervously, “Hey, Husk?”
He grunted and looked her way in acknowledgment.
“A-Angel Dust hasn’t been home in two days…. Do you know where he might be?”
He bit the worry building in his throat back and stared at her blankly, “Why would I know where he is?”
“It’s just that you two are really good friends so I was hoping you would have an inkling-“
Alastor appeared beside her and hummed, “Good friends? Why, Husker! I’m so glad to see you reaching your social potential!”
Husk snorted and took a swig from the bottle in his hands, turning to get back to work.
“Alastor, have you seen Angel Dust recently?”
“Afraid not, my dear.”
“I’m really concerned- he hasn’t texted me back in days and he’s been so regressive lately - what if he’s hurt or….”
Alastor made a noise of interest, “Yes that is strange. Husker?”
“I just said I haven’t seen him.” He bared his teeth, almost growling.
Alastor’s smiled widened, eyes flashing dangerously, “Watch your tone.”
Charlie frowned, “it’s fine - I’ll go look for him when Vaggie gets back-“
“Nonsense, my dear!” Alastor gave her a pat on the head, eyes never leaving Husk, “Husker can take an afternoon off from the bar to find our spindly little friend.”
Husk was seething, “I don’t want to.”
Charlie looked hurt and Alastor snarled, “I didn’t ask.” Charlie looked at Alastor with wide eyes, “Alastor, what’re you-?”
Alastor laughed loudly, “Charlie, dear, Husker needs to make amends with his precious friend. It seems like they had fought and simply haven’t made up.” He tapped his cane on the ground, eyes narrowing as Charlie turned around, “Go make amends, Husker.”
The way he whispered out his name made Husk shake violently, the green collar that binded them together closing in on his throat tightly. He whimpered and stared at the two of them, anger pulsing from his core, “Why do you suddenly give a fuck what happens to him, huh? Weren’t you threatening not two months ago- mmmfff”
Husks lips clamped together and Alastor’s eyes shined dangerously, “I am choosing to repeat myself for a final time, Husker, do not forget your place. Go. Make. Amends.” He slammed his cane down again and Husk was swallowed into shadows, disappearing in an instant.
Charlie stared incredulously at the radio demon, “Wh-what did you do??”
Alastor grinned down at the girl, “I sent him to V Tower, of course! Best place to start searching for that sad little creature.”
“Alastor, he looked so angry and scared-“
“You’re imagining things, my dear.” He used his cane to lift her chin upwards to his gaze, “You’d be surprised what love can do to a person - makes them feral, really. They simply must make up and admit their feelings and all will be well.”
Charlie’s face melted into happiness, “They’re in love?!”
Alastor tapped the top of her head with his cane, “All part of the plan, my dear. Let Husker do the work. He just needed an extra hard push.” He placed his hands behind his back and began walking towards his radio tower, smile menacing as he imagined how to make Husk pay for his insubordination this time without making it obvious to the princess of hell.
—
Husk coughed and gasped on the steps of V Tower, he had been dropped from a high enough distance that he felt two of his ribs crack against the concrete. He stared up at the blinding neon lights of v tower and wiped the blood that had been dripping from his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t have a choice in the matter now, but the only thing that scared him more than Alastor was walking into this building and seeing the shit Angel Dust would talk about happening to him in real time.
He sucked in a painful breath. Would Angel Dust even want to see him after he had just left him like that and then ignored him for days?
Husk stared dumbly up at the posters of Angel Dust that littered the hall leading up to the porn studio. He took a deep breath before he quietly opened the studio doors, ears flat against his head as he snuck around the back of the room to avoid being seen before he had found Angel Dust.
A particularly loud moan came from the center of the room and Husk felt himself bristle when he realized it was Angel Dust. He was on the bed in the middle of the dimly lit studio, ropes holding his body up from all four of his wrists as he sat limply against blood-stained silken white sheets. He was covered in injuries and blood, his eyes were nearly swollen shut from being beaten, and Valentino was at his side, carefully watching the pained body as he smoked his cigarette, blowing the smoke into Angel’s face as his lips turned up into a smile.
“P-please…”
Valentino placed a finger beneath his chin, “What do you want, baby?”
Sobs wrecked his body as he tried to gasp out, “Please let me go. I’m so tired - I- I’ll never leave you again. I’m sorry.”
Valentino scowled and placed the lit end of the cigarette against Angel Dust’s neck, earning a scream of pain, “You’re done when I say you are, bitch.” He kicked Angel carelessly and sighed, “You can leave once you’ve gotten yourself down. I expect you bright eyed and ready to come back in on Monday, capiche amorcito?”
Angel Dust sobbed as Valentino exited the studio. He thought he was alone and so he just let all of his feelings out at once.
Husk made his way to Angel Dust and made quick work of the bindings, the spider gasping out in surprise and fear. His eyes would barely open. Husk hushed him and once the ropes had been undone, he grasped the tall man into a hug, one hand holding the back of his head and the other against his back, his ears flat against his head, “I’m sorry.” He repeated the words like a prayer as he felt Angel shake in his embrace from desperate sobs.
Angel Dust pushed him away once he had enough strength, his eyes barely able to crack open as he searched Husk’s face, “Why the fuck are you here?”
Husk looked down, “Charlie was worried.”
“Oh.” The disappointment was obvious and it hurt in Husk’s chest as he looked back up into those barely open eyes. Husk reached out, hand cradling his cheek carefully, and stared. Angel Dust’s bottom lip quivered and he looked away, “Val was right. He’s the only one that will ever love me.”
Husk grabbed his chin to force him to look into his eyes, “You really think that? What about Charlie and Vaggie? What about…” Husk swallowed, “What about me?”
Angel Dust snorted, “You don’t love me.” He looked at Husk defiantly, but Husk just looked crushed.
He backed away and sighed, “Angel Dust - I love you so much that it fucking terrifies me. I didn’t think I was capable of having those feelings, after everything I’ve been through, and here you came with your long fuckin legs and your pretty fuckin laugh and I can’t imagine a day going by that I never got to meet you.” Husk held a hand over his heart, “When we didn’t talk I missed you so much it fuckin hurt - Alastor had even threatened to hurt you at some point but the thought of being without you was so painful that I couldn’t take it.” He swallowed, “I’ve been drinking myself into a stupor every fuckin night because I’d rather be numb than live knowing that you go hurt because of me. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just hurting both of us. I don’t just love you, moron, I need you. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t want to keep living if you aren’t somewhere I can reach.”
Angel Dust was silent for a beat before he laughed, “Damn, Kitty, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much.” He weakly smiled, “Take me home before I change my mind.”
Husk picked up the man effortlessly and once they were outside, he stretched his wings and lifted them off into the air towards the hotel.
Angel held tightly onto Husk’s neck, his face buried in bluish fur, “Did you really mean all of that? That you need me?”
“Have I ever lied to you?” Husk let his eyes linger down to the lanky man in his arms, “I meant every fucking word.”
Angel tightened his grip, face and neck warm from embarrassment, “And you meant all of that even though I’m a broken whore?”
“Don’t you EVER say that about yourself again.”
Husk’s serious tone made Angel snap up to look at him, “Huh?”
He growled low in his throat, landing at the front of the hotel, not giving the man a single glance as he carried him through the threshold and up the stairs.
Charlie saw the state of Angel and cried out, but Alastor placed his cane in front of her to stop her advance, “They need to talk, princess. He’s here and he’s safe for now - you can see him in the morning.”
—
Husk brought the spider into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him with his foot as he continued to the bathroom, placing Angel Dust on the lid of his toilet before turning his attention to the large, clawfoot tub and turning on the water. He looked back at Angel once the water was at a satisfactory temperature and leaned onto his knees in front of him, between his legs, “You are NOT a whore.”
“Husk, people literally pay me for sex-“
“No. You are NOT a whore. And you may be broken, but I will do my damndest to glue you back together.” His eyes were serious and searching Angel Dust’s eyes for any doubt.
Angel didn’t respond because he didn’t know HOW to respond.
“Let me take care of you tonight.”
“….okay.”
Husk gave a small smile and moved the spider to the tub, helping him in carefully until he was mostly submerged. He took care to carefully wash the man, fingers running carefully through his fur and washing away all of the blood and other substances that had stained him over the past two days. The water had turned a coppery red color by the time he had finished. Husk helped Angel Dust out of the water and dried him off just as carefully as he had cleaned him.
Angel Dust finally had enough feeling in his legs that he could support himself while Husk lifted the drain of the tub to empty the water. He’d worry about cleaning the stains tomorrow.
He was so, so careful with Angel as he laid the man in his bed, afraid he’d break if he pushed or touched him with too much force. Angel Dust smiled up at him, feeling warm as Husk hovered over him.
Husk leaned back and took a deep breath, slowing his breathing down, “Are you comfortable sleeping here tonight? Or would you prefer your own room?”
Angel Dust curled his limbs closer to himself for warmth, “Are you okay with having me in your bed?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I’m dirty.”
Husk laughed softly, “You just took a bath-“
“No I mean… I’m used and I’ll never just be yours-“
Husk’s eyes lit up with anger and determination, “You are NOT a whore.”
“I didn’t say-“
Husk moved up and placed a kiss on his temple, eyes finding Angel’s to emphasize, “You are NOT a whore.”
Angel furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and opened his mouth to protest, but Husk placed a kiss against his eye lids and on his nose, “You are not a whore.”
Husk let his claws brush over Angel Dust’s cheeks before placing a soft kiss on his neck and shoulder, “You are not a whore.”
Angel Dust’s eyes started to water, “Why are you-?”
Husk held up Angel Dust’s hand and kissed the crook of his elbow gently, his wrist, his palm, and then each finger individually, “You are so beautiful and if it takes me the rest of our afterlives to glue your broken pieces back together so that you can see it too, I’ll do it.”
Angel Dust choked on his tears as Husk continued to litter his body with soft kisses- making sure to take extra time on every scar and fresh wound to prove a point. Once Husk felt satisfied, he leaned over the spider and looked him in the eyes, “You are not a whore and I will always put you back together when someone else tries to break you.”
Angel Dust was shaking from the sobs wracking his body, but he reached up and pulled Husk in for a real kiss, lips on lips and eyes closed as he tried to memorize the feeling of them.
Husk held Angel Dust’s hand as he carefully pulled away, “I’ll be right back.”
Angel panicked, worried if Husk left he’d never see him again, “Please, no. Please don’t leave me.”
Husk smiled warmly, “Do you trust me?”
Angel Dust hesitated, “More than anyone.”
“I’ll be right back.”
The spider was on edge the whole time Husk was gone, but he shot up in bed when he heard the door open. His fear melted as soon as he recognized Fat Nuggets oinking happily in Husk’s arms. Husk closed the door behind him and placed the pig onto his bed, the pink bundle of energy racing into Angel Dust’s arms. He held onto his pet tightly, crying softly, “I’m so sorry I left you here, Nuggs. I’m so sorry-“
“He forgives you.” Husk sat on the bed next to him and sighed, “He found his way in here while you were gone - go figure - I try to ignore everything and your pig decides to annoy me while you aren’t here.”
Angel Dust let himself lean onto Husk’s shoulder and take a deep, shaking breath, “I missed you.”
Husk smiled and moved to let Angel lay back on the bed, “Yeah. I missed you, too.” He held him tightly, Angel’s head tucked under Husk’s chin and Fat Nuggets between them both - they fell asleep like that.
And woke up like that.
Angel Dust started awake, reaching out to make sure he wasn’t alone and he was met with Husk hushing him and gently stroking the back of his head, “I’m here.”
Angel Dust let out a stuttered, relieved sigh as he settled back into the embrace, “Good.”
They spent most of the day like that, but the rumble of hunger that erupted from Angel Dust’s stomach had them both laughing. Husk pulled away, “Go get dressed. I’ll talk to Charlie and see if her dad can whip up some pancakes for you.”
He perked up at the sound of pancakes and nodded, “Yeah, okay.”
—
Angel Dust watched his hands nervously as he sat at the bar with Husk, “I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
Husk looked up at him from his mixer, “Would you like me to go with you?”
“NO!” Angel Dust held a hand over his mouth and looked away bashfully, “I just… Husky I like you so much but my deal-“
Husk gripped the hand covering Angel Dust’s mouth and smiled, pulling it down to the bar and squeezing it, “I know. It’s fine.” He let go and placed the drink in front of the spider, “I promise it’s fine.”
Angel Dust frowned, “Why would it be fine? No one wants to mess around with a used cock sleeve, right?”
Husk growled, holding Angel Dust’s chin so they were looking eye to eye, “Don’t start that shit again- you are so much more than a porn star, Angel Dust. I don’t give a shit about your job - none of them mean anything to you so why should they mean anything to me?”
He let go and Angel’s eyes trailed down to his cocktail, “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with someone where I like them and they like me.”
“Would you like to?”
Angel Dust turned bright red, eyes meeting Husk’s, “S-Sorry?”
Husk blinked, “Would you like to have sex with someone who has genuine and strong feelings for you?”
“I… are you fuckin around, Husk? Cus it isn’t funny.”
Husk smiled and reached for Angel Dust’s hand, “I am not joking- if it’s what you want, I want to give that to you.”
Angel Dust cleared his throat, “I have high expectations.”
Husk chuckled, “Drop them - I don’t have very good stamina. But… I’ll do my best.”
Angel Dust swallowed hard, but nodded, “Y-yeah. Okay.”
Husk let go of Angel’s hand, “Go on upstairs- I’ll find you after I close up shop.”
—
Angel Dust felt his heart beating so hard, he was sure it was going to come out of his chest. He had never been this nervous for sex in his life, but the way Husk entered the room and looked at him so warmly had his entire body buzzing like it was his first time.
Husk crawled onto the sheets carefully, hands reaching to hold Angel Dust’s face, “Let me know if anything hurts - I only want you to feel good tonight.” He waited for Angel Dust to nod in approval before he leaned forward to place their lips together.
Angel tried to move faster on instinct, but Husk pulled away and smiled, “What’s the hurry?”
“Sorry… habit.”
“Don’t apologize.” He leaned in again and left soft kisses along the side of the spider’s face, sighing contentedly as he pushed their lips together again. It wasn’t hungry - it was exploratory.
Fingers and claws touched skin gently and slowly like they were reading braille and committing it to memory. Husk peppered Angel Dust with warm, soft kisses on nearly every inch of his exposed body - like he was trying to bleach out the touches of anyone else with pure affection. And Angel Dust started to believe it was working.
He had never been so sensitive to someone’s touch, but he had also never been touched so gently before and with so much meaning.
Husk laced their digits together when it was time for penetration- his golden eyes searing into Angel’s pink ones, never losing eye contact during entry or in the slow movement of hips after.
They were both gasping in whispers, Angel Dust feeling spent but unable to look away from Husk’s gaze.
Husk released one of Angel Dust’s hands hand placed his own paw on the face below him. He leaned in and whispered , “I love you” against Angel Dust’s lips and the white demon whined, reaching release almost instantly after, the sounds being swallowed by another gentle kiss from Husk as he moved only slightly faster to reach his own release.
He breathed heavily over Angel, using their still intertwined hands to hold himself up as his other hand brushed the fur from Angel Dust’s eyes, “You okay?”
Angel Dust squeezed their hands together and smiled, laughing breathlessly, “Yeah, I’m okay. You okay?”
Husk looked mesmerized as he stared down at him, “Better than okay.”
They stayed like that for a while, breaths mixing together and eyes searching the other’s until Husk finally moved, cleaning up Angel Dust’s body with a baby wipe from the dresser, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.” Angel Dust moved his head so he could watch as Husk moved to clean himself, “Not at all.”
Husk smiled warmly, “Good.”
He thew the wipes to the other side of the room and flopped onto the pillow beside Angel Dust, just looking at him and drinking in the image of him looking so comfortable and blown out after having what Husk assumed was extremely vanilla sex for the man.
But Angel Dust looked at him, eyes shining, “Hey, Husk?”
“Hmm?” They adjusted so that they were cuddled close, arms tangled together in a mess and foreheads touching.
“I love you, too.”
#hazbin fanfic#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#huskerdust#angst with a happy ending#no beta we die like men#Spotify
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Pandora’s Box
Pairing: RomanRoy x Executive! Reader
Content Warning: mentions of mental and physical abuse
Summary: Romulus Roy was a broken man but he'd never let you know. He had a hard time letting anyone into his black heart. The years of abuse had conditioned him to be void of true emotion until one day you give him a safe space. Let him be truly Roman and not just another meat puppet for daddy. Things get emotional
Roman sat there staring at his phone waiting for some business deal. Waiting for the call so he could tell daddy dearest he closed the deal and get just a shred of approval. He knew he’d never hear an “atta boy” but he was desperate. A piece of his heart always yearning for the approval of his father. He lived and breathed just for one acknowledgement, one offhand comment. He’d never be the favorite because he wasn’t the oldest nor the darling little girl. He was stuck in the middle, kicked like a dog and expected to crawl back with no complaints. He tried to justify it, mumbling to himself that he was annoying and deserved it. Deserved the sting on his cheek, the loss of a tooth, the bleeding lip. He deserved it, he was annoying and brash. He pushed buttons all too often using humor to ease the tension between his siblings and his father. He became the court jester, cracking jokes to appease the king and his court. When did he lose himself? Was he always lost?
When did he start questioning his worth? Probably when his siblings shut him in that cage, forcing him to bark and eat “dog food” dragging him around the room. He grew accustomed to performing, dragging those memories deep down. Dragging them to the basement and beating the fuck out of them until they couldn’t get up. Repressing his emotions until he long forgot what they felt like. Roman was vacant, a puppet ready to perform for his family. Play out the deals, be whored out by his father, neglected by his siblings.
The day he met you was insignificant, just another secretary or something, he didn’t pay attention to those around him. Something about the way you looked at him was different though. You absorbed his opinions, asked about his ideas even when he made inappropriate jokes, you hung onto his every word. He tried to minimize your position in his life, tried once again to repress any emotion. Afraid of what Pandora’s box he’d unleash if he opened it just a centimeter but he grew dependent. Hung onto your small acknowledgments, the rare compliments, and gazing eyes. He relished in the small brushes as you handed him documents. He’d never admit to his desperation at physical touch. Nothing sexual, just a hug, kiss on the cheek, a soothing hand on his back when his emotions threatened to spill out, waves crashing onto the sides of the box, small droplets sprinkling out the seams.
Somewhere in the days and long nights of sitting at his desk something changed. You can’t pinpoint it. There’s a softening in his gaze, just slightly almost imperceptible to anyone around him except for you. You’d studied him for a long time, staring at his faux chuckles. Understanding that his insults and sexual jokes were not him. They were a character he slipped into, it was his armor. The only thing that protected himself from the king and his hurtful words.
Then one night he’d convinced you to go to his apartment, not that you needed too much convincing. Something about him made you want to give him a hug and let him cry and cry and cry until his tears were dry. Then pretend like nothing happened. You sought to comfort him almost unconsciously, giving him reassuring nods and passing touches. Your mother always said you had a soft spot for wounded animals. Roman was just a bird with a hurt wing, ready to be nursed to health so he could soar like you knew he could. He was so much more than he could ever see. His confidence in himself was synthetic.
When you pass that threshold into his apartment you realize just how personal this all is. His apartment was incredibly sleek and cold, you couldn’t feel traces of him within the walls. Even his couches were pristine like they had never been sat in.
“You have a… nice apartment,” you can’t help but grimace. Your comment sounds awkward to your ears.
“Nothing like you’ve ever seen,” he says chuckling. It’s true never been in an apartment like this but you’ve seen them in architectural digest. You can sense the sarcastic undertone in his words. Feeling unsteady at letting you into the one place he can kind of relax. He felt exposed, the cables of his robot heart out for just a second.
“Yeah something like that,” you agree, not wanting to get defensive and make a joke of your economic status. You were well paid by the Roy’s but you’d never be a billionaire. You walk to the window, gasping at the view of Upper Manhattan. The lights twinkle across your face as the blue hue of the city glows. He moves around the room as you stay there entranced. Eventually he calls your attention, asking you to hand him some documents as he calls someone on the phone. You sit on his untouched couch, perching on the edge afraid to get comfortable but after an hour you sit back. One leg crossed over the other, leaning a document on your knee highlighting important things for Roman. You move into reading the contract, reading every excruciating detail just to triple check there wasn’t a hidden clause that would cost the company millions.
You don’t notice Roman sitting across from you, studying your face as you work. “Here you go,” you say, handing him the stack of papers before going back to your contract. You try to pretend to read it, the text blurring together as your boredom grows. You sigh, giving up on the work waiting for the phone call.
Roman sits on his phone, waiting for the call. The ring of his phone breaking the silence, he answers standing up before pacing around the room. You follow his pace, eyes tracking his movements. He hangs up, “I fucking got it!” He celebrates for a second his face morphing into a smug smile.
He picks up the phone again, presumably calling his father. He tells him the good news, just for a moment he lets his heart race, the sliver of hope coursing through his veins hanging onto his fathers words. He must’ve not said anything good, Roman has that fake smile on his face as he hangs up. He sits down, sighing as the weight of pressure leaves his body.
He leans his head backward, exposing his pale neck as he closes his eyes. You sit there quietly, not wanting to alert him of your presence. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability. He snaps out of it, realizing you were still in the room. He’d assumed you’d leave as soon as he closed the deal like every other executive. Instead, you sit there staring at him, he feels scared under your prying eyes.
“You did a good job,” you smile, breaking the silence between you too.
“As if I need your approval,” he bites. He knew what you were doing, giving him that praise he craved from his father. He didn’t need your compliments, he didn’t need fixing. You refuse to look away, not bowing to his gaze.
“Can I say something?” You say, leaning a little forward. Trying to cross slightly into his personal bubble.
“Better watch your tongue or I’ll have you fired,” he laughs. Of course to a billionaire your life was a game, he could fire people and ruin their livelihoods for fun. It was one of his favorite pastimes. Digging for dirt and having ATN blast it, watch as anyone he remotely dislikes was scorched by public opinion.
“You know how much power you hold. It doesn’t matter to me if you have me fired. I just need to say this and we can forget about it or you can have me pack my desk up. It's fine,” you say, placing the stacks of documents into your bag.
“Ooh do you want to talk about how hot I am? Want to suck off the boss?” He quips.
“You deserve to be loved,” is all you say. You look into his eyes as he makes another daddy joke. “You deserve love,” you repeat. His jokes shorten and shorten as you keep repeating it. “You deserve to be loved, you are worthy of love,” you say finally. You wait for his response, he’d been sitting there quietly for the last minute. You just wanted to let him know something that he never believed himself.
“Roman?” You ask, were you forgetting or were you being fired?
“I don’t deserve love,” he finally says. His voice level, his eyes distant. This was Roman, this was who he was when he was alone.
“You deserve love,” you simply reply. Standing from across from him to sit on the couch he’s on but not daring to sit near him. You were afraid he’d crawl back into his shell so you give him space.
“I’m annoying and an asshole, I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve praise for doing my fucking job,” he says his voice growing an edge. You let him sit in silence, the venom of his heart spewing out, the edges of Pandora’s box sprinkling out just a little more. He tried to bury it, push down all his negative emotions.
“You’re good at your job, you deserve praise, you deserve to feel loved and happy Roman,” you sigh, staring at the wall. The waves of sadness lap at a millimeter you’ve just opened, they threaten to spill over as your words run through his mind.
His entire life he’d been told he was worthless, not a real person. He only lived to be exploited by his faults. His siblings always using his intimacy issues as the butt of a joke. You were the first person who told him he had some sort of allowance to his person. He was allowed to feel love and happiness. He wasn’t just a meat puppet for his father.
“You did a good job, Roman. You deserve to hear it,” you finalize. The waves come spilling out like a tsunami, one tear rolls down his face. You turn to look at him, he’s trying to self soothe just like he’d been taught. “Ignore the baby and he’ll stop crying,” His mother would say. They didn’t allow nannies to coddle him when he cried, instead shoving him into an empty room at the other side of the mansion.
He tried to hold the waves from killing him but they’re dragging him into its rip current. He’s being dragged downward, gasping for air, arms and legs kicking trying desperately to push himself upward. Roman didn’t know you were supposed to swim sideways until you were free from its grasp. He screams in his head,” don’t fucking cry, stop being a pussy, you have no reason to cry” He tried to quell his sadness but you don’t let him.
You sit closer as he leans forward trying to subdue the imminent panic attack, head between his knees as his breath comes out in puffs. You tentatively move your hand forward until it reaches his back. He doesn’t seem to notice your touch so you move forward. You rub circles on his back as you would a crying child after they fell and broke their skin on the pavement. “Let it out,” you whisper to him as his breath shallows. He’s holding in sobs, tears spilling out faster. “Come in let me see you cry. Let it all out,” you whisper again. Pandora’s box bursts open, the water all over the floor, the ocean splintering the wood into tiny chunks. He’s sobbing, choking on his saliva, hiccuping as a natural reaction to the tightness in his throat.
You turn him into you, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder and neck as one hand rubs his back and the other runs through his hair. You massage his scalp trying to ease the tightness of his body until he relaxes against you. He lets himself cry and be held, you hold onto him letting him know your his life line back down. You’re the rescue boat after the shipwreck, searching for survivors in the endless sea. He’ll come out bruised and scarred from the passing of wood biting and cutting at his skin but he’ll live.
He lets himself lose control over himself, hugging you, his hands grasping at the back of your blouse. This is the first time Roman has ever been truly vulnerable. He’d usually try and wait until the middle of the night when he’s alone in his dark room to cry. You turn your head, kissing his temple as his sobs die down. His body involuntarily hiccuping as he sniffles. He doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t want to see your face when you let go so he sits there for a minute longer.
You can’t help but give him a little more praise, “You did such a good job, I’m so proud of you,” you say, giving him another kiss to his temple. He can’t help but whine, letting himself feel like a child again. Letting himself revel in the comfort he missed. Some embarrassment starts to seep through as he tries to bury himself deep into your neck. You try to pull him away from you, wanting to see his face but he just wiggles his head away from your hands, his arms tightening around you.
“Let me see your face,” you whisper trying to pull your head away from his face. He shakes his head, not ready to face the reality of his breakdown. The aftermath will leave him feeling devastated, the lows of his emotions too much to bear. You refuse to leave him though, you’d help him climb from the bottom of the mountain until he grew endurance and strength to do it himself. You convince him to leave the crevice of your neck, he refuses to make eye contact even as his face is a couple centimeters from yours. His arms not letting you go, he wanted the safety net that your physical contact provided.
You take one of your hands, wiping the remnant of his tears from his face. His eyes over your shoulder until you brush the hair on his forehead away. He looks down at you, your touch felt foreign not because it was new but because he’d never been caressed like this. Never held like he was everything in the world, never held with so much tenderness. He looks pretty even when his eyes are puffy and red, his lips a bright shade of pink from the saliva he tried to wipe away with his tongue.
“Okay let’s get you to bed,” you smile as you start into his eyes but he’s afraid. He’s afraid to go into that room alone and face the splinters of wood and clean up the water. You see the worry in his eyes.
“I’m not leaving, I promise,” you reassure him. He lets himself be walked into his room. You sit him on the edge of the bed, grabbing some of his sleep clothes. You help him remove his suit, too tired to do it himself. He feels like a sick child as you redress him, folding his suit and placing it on a chair, putting his watch on the nightstand, and then tucking him into the sheets. His bleary eyes slowly try to fight away the sleep as you give him a kiss on the forehead.
He whispers for you to stay, sleep in the bed with him. You look at him, his eyes half lidded with tiredness, pleading you with the last amount of energy he has left. You agree, telling him you’re going to the restroom and you’ll be back shortly. You grab some of his sleep clothes on the way out, changing in the bathroom trying not to freak out. You breathe in hard, it was your turn to reign in your emotions. You smooth out your hair, folding your clothes and leaving them in the bathroom. When you step into his room again he’s sound asleep, you go to the kitchen grabbing a glass of water. He was going to be dehydrated when he woke up.
You weren’t sure whether you should climb into bed or not. He was asleep but he did beg for you to stay. You decide to just do it, the emotional overhaul weighs on your body. Your limbs tired as you scoot into bed, dragging the covers to your chin. Almost instinctively Roman scoots closer to you, head in your shoulder hugging you close to him as he sighs. You reach your other hand smoothing out his hair until you drift off to sleep.
#succession#roman roy x reader#roman roy / reader#roman roy#roman roy imagine#angst#hurt and comfort#succession roman#gender neutral reader except one sentence#succession hbo
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Boundaries - Will Graham Imagine (Hannibal)
Title: Boundaries
Pairing: Will Graham X Reader
Word Count: 1,269 words
Warning(s): forced kiss, mentions of murder & violence
Summary: Hannibal attempts a very calculated move. However, he didn't consider all the variables before enacting his plan.
Author's Note: I love this show. I would love to write for it more, if that's what people want to read.
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I didn't think much of Hannibal's phone call.
He mentioned a case and that my past research related to it. It wasn't the first time I had helped with a case.
I wasn't a member of Jack Crawford's team. I was mostly involved in research. It was my passion. Still, if I was asked, I tried to find time to help on cases that needed my assistance.
It was how I met Will. I couldn't complain when it led me to meet the man that I absolutely loved.
Hannibal and I had met when discussing Will's first case back. Not only had they asked for my help, but Hannibal had made an effort to show that he was here to help Will. I agreed to work with him as much as I could.
He knew how committed I was to Will. He knew how much I loved Will. He knew that I was looking at spending the rest of my life with Will.
That's important.
I walked into Hannibal's office. I had no reason to question anything yet.
"(Y/n)," Hannibal smiled as he greeted me. "Thank you for stopping by on such short notice."
"Of course," I nodded. "Where are the case files?"
He motioned over to his desk. I hung up my jacket and scarf before walking over with him.
"Jack Crawford sent me these photos of the crime scenes," he handed them to me. "You have a focus on history impacting modern crime, correct? What do you see?"
"Well," I put them down next to each other on the desk. "They... They almost look like they're performing."
"How so?"
"Look at her," I pointed to one photo. "She's positioned like she's an opera singer belting to the top balcony of a theatre."
He didn't speak, just nodded.
"And him," I pointed at another photo. "He's much bloodier, but he's almost like a court jester. Even the clothes they're found in are becoming more accurate over the course of the killing. Whoever is killing these people wants them to play specific roles. Stage roles."
"Interesting."
"Disturbing," I muttered in response.
I turned my head to look at Hannibal, about to ramble about looking for someone who had been buying or renting books on a certain time era.
I didn't get to do that.
Before I could say anything, Hannibal leaned over to press his lips to mine. He only barely touched me before I shoved him away.
"What the fuck are you doing," I asked as I took long strides away from him.
"I'm sorry," he said, far too calm. "I must've misread the signs."
"You can't misread signs that don't exist," I snapped. "God, what the fuck is wrong with you? Not only do you know I have a boyfriend, but he's one of your patients for God's sake!"
"I apologize-"
"I've gotta go," I cut him off as I grabbed my stuff. "Do not call me for something like this again. Professional consults are done over the phone or with a team. Do not try to get me alone like this ever again. You're lucky I didn't pepper spray you... or punch you, for that matter."
"(Y/n)," Hannibal went to touch my arm.
"Don't touch me," I said. "Goodbye, Dr. Lecter."
I stormed out of his office, surprisingly not managing to break anything.
My instinct was to start driving to Will's house. I was going to be spending the night there anyway. There were just more important things to discuss now.
I didn't seem to snap out of my tunnel vision when I pulled into the driveway. I let out a sigh, staring at the building for a moment before forcing myself out of the car.
I felt a pit in my stomach as I walked into the house.
I knew that hiding what had happened was the wrong choice, but I couldn't help but feel like I was ruining a part of Will's life.
"Hey," Will said when he saw me. I forced a grin, not moving far from the door that had shut behind me. "What's wrong?"
"What?"
"You are usually more affectionate when you come home," he pointed out. Home. I hadn't even moved in yet and he saw it as my home too? "The only times you aren't is when you're stressed or upset."
He was right.
Of course, he was right.
I still paused. This felt like an evil thing to do, but what was the other option? Let Hannibal tell him? God knows how he would've twisted the event.
"Please talk to me," Will started walking over to me. "I don't want you to close off from me. You never let me do that to you, so I'm not going to let you do that to me. I want to help-"
"Hannibal kissed me," I finally blurted out.
"What," Will asked.
"He... He asked me to meet him to discuss a case today," I explained. "He thought my previous research would give me some kind of insight. When I was going through the file he gave me, I looked up and he tried to kiss me. I jumped away as soon as he tried. I pretty much sprinted out of his office. I'm so sorry, Will-"
"Why are you apologizing," his eyebrows furrowed. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Because I know that Hannibal has become a major factor in your life, and I feel like I've completely destroyed it-"
"Hannibal destroyed it."
I froze up.
"You didn't cross any line," Will continued. "He did."
I looked down.
"I trust you," he promised. I looked back at him. "More than I trust him."
"I didn't want to ruin anything-"
"You didn't ruin it," he cupped the sides of my face. "It would've been worse if you hid it from me."
I nodded and reached up to grab his hands. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch a little bit. I felt his forehead touch mine.
Something in the back of my mind told me that Hannibal thought I would hide it. That he wanted Will to find out in some way other than through me. I was someone who tended to do my best to protect other people's feelings. But that wasn't the case in a relationship. I wanted to have open communication with my partner. Of course, I told Will.
I tried to shake the thought, focusing all of my attention on Will.
"I love you," I mumbled.
"I love you too."
He didn't say it often. It was a vulnerable sentence in any situation. I was convinced that there were times when he thought the words came out when they really just sat on his tongue.
My hands moved to his sides. I grinned a little at the soft feeling of his sweater against my palms.
Will leaned just a bit further and gently kissed me.
It was soft and careful. Many kisses were between us. Neither one of us wanted to push the other beyond that moment. It felt more intimate than anything else we could've done.
As we both leaned back, I grinned softly at him.
His eyes were still closed as he nudged his nose against mine. I only smiled wider. I adored it when Will felt safe enough to be like this.
I slowly stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. I leaned my head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around me.
I let out a happy sigh, any tension falling from my shoulders.
It felt like a rare moment of pure peace.
And I wouldn't trade that for the world.
-----------------------------
Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
#hannibal x reader#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal imagine#will graham x reader#will graham fanfiction#will graham imagine#fanfiction#imagine#x reader
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OOC quotes from Merlin fanfics, p2 (modern era chaos) :
"Nihilistic humour back in, you need to tell me how I died. I want to know what level of drama I have to live up to."
"Ignore the yelp. I fell," said Gwaine.
He sighed dramatically, said ‘I knew this would happen,’ pulled a half dead duck out of his coat, and gave it to the waiter.
"No, I don't feel any resentment. Got him killed, but whatever."
“Arthur Pendragon is God’s gift to mankind,” said Arthur with a manic smile.
"Sorry. I'm bitter." said Mordred with a neutral expression.
“We could always stab each other to find out?”
The majority of the 12th century was spent haunting a well in Scotland.
"To hell with Kilgharrah, to hell with destiny, to hell with all yall! Goodnight!" - "Merls it's like 3pm. We're all sitting here in the woods." - "GOODNIGHT"
If Merlin was saved under “smol angry kitten” in Leon’s phone for the better half of the semester, no one had to know that.
“Why not just come to my party! Better than a smoke!” said Gwaine. - “Ah fuck, why not? I don’t even smoke anyway. I’m Merlin.”
Leon became a back-up dancer for the Spice Girls. Merlin had never been so proud.
"You're an idiot, Merlin. Only you would send someone to an island resort as a punishment."
Apparently, Leon had become a cult leader whilst Merlin was courting his scientist?
Arthur’s left at the mercy of his imagination, fuelled by 1300 years’ experience with Merlin’s bullshit. He starts mentally constructing their forcible departure from England in the name of evading arrest.
Merlin was long overdue some entertainment.
"I’d do it myself, but you know, I’d probably die and then you’d be arrested on the suspicion of murder and then we’d both be without crisps,” said Merlin simply.
"But please don’t get into an accident with forks and die, sir. I could lose my job!"
Merlin took one look at the man before running off to befriend polar bears in Svalbard for a century. Leon became court jester.
"Why do you wake up so early, man?" - "I don't??" - "But you're awake all the time?" - "Oh, I don't sleep :)"
#merlin#confused knights of the round table#arthur pendragon#gwaine#bbc merlin#confused arthur#confused merlin#bbcm#gaius#sir elyan#sir leon
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You answered about Leon being the sub in bondage, but how about a bondage dom huh?! How about that!? *cackles in you absolutely should just delete this ask, we're all very ill*
The thought of OG Leon trying to Dom makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit, just because the level of cringe would just be off the fucking charts, bro. I don't think he has it in him to take it seriously the whole way through. It would be like being Dommed by the court jester. Being Dommed by OG Leon would be the emotional equivalent of having Spongebob in your ear just asking you over and over again: Are you feeling it now, Mr. Krabs?
But Remake Leon... I think he could pull it off, man. I do.
I'm not gonna lie, my breath catches in my throat a little bit every time he barks orders at Ashley in RE4make. Sometimes I maybe position things so that Ashley is purposefully in the way during a fight so that I can hear Leon yell at her to move. I may have gotten the vapors the first time I heard his: "Run. NOW." after he got the cage dropped on him.
I think the boy's got it in him.
I don't think it'd be his default preference, but every once in a while, he gets this wild look in his eye, and...
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"Uptown Girl" | Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham | Stranger Things
Eddie sits on top of a heavily graffitied picnic table smoking a cigarette, his combat boots planted on the seat below as one of his legs bounces up and down with nervous energy. He never could keep still, and it was a habit that constantly got him into trouble in class. That or the humming. There was constantly a tune playing in his head from one of the hundreds of songs that helped give his life some meaning and he’d often hum a few notes out loud without realizing it. This was usually accompanied by a little drum solo via the pencil in his hand.
Ya’ give the people a free show and they don’t even appreciate it, he muses to himself with a snort.
His thoughts drift back to English class that day and he feels his gut respond with an anxious flip. He still wasn’t sure what parallel universe he’d slipped into that led him here, sitting on this shitty picnic table, waiting for someone he hadn’t spoken to in years but still very much remembered. She wasn’t the forgettable type.
I mean, by all accounts, she should be. Forgettable. Her life was the polar fucking opposite of his and he was fairly confident her personality was, too. They most likely had diddly squat in common, and he’d assumed she was just another uptight, pretty popular chick that preyed on all of the lowly peasants beneath her. Peasants like him. That’s what pretty, popular chicks do, right? That former confidence was utterly rattled earlier that day when out of nowhere, she’d shyly asked if she could speak to him by his locker as everyone was spilling out of the classroom to the sound of the bell ringing.
When they were at his locker (or at least, he thinks it was his locker – he didn’t really ever use the thing) she’d smiled nervously up at him as the glittery blue makeup on her eyelids sparkled beneath the overhead fluorescent light. It felt like a punch to the chest when her silvery blue eyes, shadowed by something that looked an awful lot like desperation, then locked onto his as if she’d done so a thousand times.
“So...hi. Um, can you – will you read this when you have a minute alone? It’s totally okay if not. I just...I overheard that you might have something I kind of really need. I’ll check the meeting spot after school. Come if you want to,” she’d rambled breathlessly, her already light pink cheeks turning a few shades brighter. She’d then gently pressed a folded note into his hand and promptly scurried away without a reply, her strawberry blond ponytail whipping back and forth as she went.
He’d stood there with his mouth hanging open stupidly, not yet processing what had actually taken place, before coming to and quickly unfolding the note right then and there. With a furrowed brow, he’d read the short message scrawled in neat, feminine handwriting.
I need help. Something that can make a person not think for a while.
And just like that, Chrissy fucking Cunningham was back on his radar again.
“Chill out, man,” he mutters to himself in annoyance at the way his stupid heart responds to every stupid thought he has about her. It's all stupid.
She was the Queen of Hawkins High, after all. Head cheerleader with a bright, sunny future, dating the basketball star of the town, Jason Carver. The King of all assholes and a royal thorn in his side. Jason didn’t seem to have two braincells to rub together but apparently that didn’t matter. The town gobbled up his shit like he was a god, conveniently looking the other way when his true self came out when provoked. Eddie just happened to be a connoisseur at provocation. It was too easy, really, to get Jason all worked up.
Bottom line, Jason Carver is a dick. What Chrissy sees in him, Eddie will never know. Not like he cares, anyway. As if.
Eddie had accepted long ago that if Hawkins High was a monarchy, then he was the court jester. Someone to laugh at. Someone to provide endless amusement. Someone to use and discard without feeling. Everybody loves to laugh, right? He’d learned how to own it over the years, making it his choice rather than the decided role others had so graciously thrust upon him. He turned to music and D&D, flipping a big ol’ middle finger to anyone who didn’t like him as he drowned them all out with rock n’ roll and good pot.
He scowls, stubbing out his cigarette on the table and flicking the butt into the woods. He wonders about what Chrissy thinks of him. He thinks about how annoying it is to be wondering about what Chrissy thinks of him. He thinks... he might be losing it.
Before he can dive into some good old-fashioned self-loathing, he hears the crunching of leaves and his head snaps up to see her walking towards him into the clearing, shoulders slightly hunched and arms wrapped around herself as if she’s cold. She looks... scared.
Her face softens a bit when their eyes meet and she offers him an awkward little wave. “You... you came,” she says quietly as she comes to sit down opposite him. Up close, he realizes how haunted she appears, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. Eddie feels his stomach lurch in concern.
“Hi. I did, indeed,” he replies, unable to concentrate on anything but the evident fear radiating off of her in waves. “Hey... you okay?”
She swallows hard as her eyes fall, and wraps her arms around herself again. “So... how does this work exactly?” She replies, dodging his previous question and getting straight to business. I mean why wouldn’t she? Not like she’d want to spend one unnecessary second of her time with Eddie the Freak. He clears his throat and pops open his tin lunch box, going into sales mode like he does with everyone else.
She’s just another customer, he reminds himself.
Before he can get a word in, a branch snaps from somewhere behind her in the forest. The girl practically jumps out of her skin as she whips around to see what it was, her chest heaving as if she expects to be attacked at any given moment.
Irritation flares inside of him at the realization that she’s probably just scared to be with him, close enough to the school that someone could possibly stumble upon them. Now, that wouldn’t be too good for Chrissy’s squeaky-clean reputation, would it? Can’t tarnish her crown for the likes of him.
He flips the lid closed and sighs, looking everywhere but at her. “Hey, uh, we don’t need to do this – gimme’ the word and I’ll just walk away.”
She spins back around in alarmed concern, shaking her head back and forth frantically.
“No, it’s not that – I don’t want you to go,” she says in a rush, her eyes falling again to stare at her fingers as she picks at her nails nervously.
“It’s just... do you ever feel like...” she pauses while Eddie’s eyes narrow in on her in surprised curiosity, “... you’re losing your mind?”
For a minute all he does is cock his head to the side and assess her, completely unprepared for such a relatable inquiry from the cheerleader living a life so laughably different from his. It doesn’t appear that she’s messing with him. Not with the way she meets his eyes with an expression of hopeful anticipation that yanks on one of his heart strings.
She just wants someone to understand her, he realizes as he recognizes the signs of someone who fears being mocked. Someone whose already been laughed at in a moment of vulnerability. Eddie is all too familiar with the feeling.
“Uh... y’know, just... on a daily basis,” he replies with a genuine, cheeky smile, and something flickers in her cobalt blue eyes as the corners of her pink lips turn slightly upwards.
“I mean, I feel like I’m losing my mind right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham. The queen of Hawkins high,” he confesses with a slightly teasing tone. She gives him a look that translates into something like amused skepticism, a small smile now donning her features. He allows himself a moment to enjoy how pretty she looks when she smiles. To enjoy that he was the cause. It unnerves him, that it even matters to him at all.
“Y’know, this isn’t actually the first time we’ve... hung out,” he says, feeling a slight twinge of apprehension.
She cocks her head and looks at him curiously. “No?”
For some reason, it makes him feel... something, that she doesn’t remember him.
“You don’t remember?”
“I’m sorry... I – “
“That’s okay,” he replies nonchalantly, before abruptly clutching at his heart and dramatically launching himself backwards off of the seat and onto the forest floor, earning a yelp of shock from her.
“I wouldn’t remember me either, Chrissy,” he exclaims in a wounded tone, pushing himself up off of the ground and smacking the autumn leaves off of himself.
“Do I have somethin’ in my hair?”, he inquires facetiously as he turns back around just in time to see her face break out into a broad smile, her eyes glittering with wonderment and mirth as she actually laughs out loud at his antics.
The only thing he can think of as he takes in this utterly bizarre scenario between them is that Chrissy Cunningham smiles like the sun. When she laughs, it lights up her entire face, banishing the shadows and illuminating something so honest and real... and this time, Eddie is the one she’s shining on.
He finds he rather enjoys the warmth.
#eddissy#hellcheer#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#eddie munson x chrissy cunningham#stranger things#eddie x chrissy#i needed to start writing something for them to cope with the mourning#i am genuinely gutted and angry and heartbroken#iykyk#i think i'm gonna continue this#but here's what i've got so far#my writing
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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Merry Christmas though, for those of you working in the NHS or the emergency services, welcome to just another day.
If you want an alternative to Christmas cracker jokes … welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday … on a Monday! Warning: one of these facts is not true! Can you guess which one?
Agreeable people are more likely to use emojis.
In Switzerland, you can be denied citizenship for being too annoying.
Farting helps reduce high blood pressure and is good for your health.
Dog owners have a lower risk of dementia. Cat ownership has no effect.
For a million years, the human population of the Earth was less than 26,000.
4.8 billion people own mobile phones whereas only 4.2 billion own a toothbrush.
Giraffes are about 30 times more likely to die from a lightning strike than humans.
Toothpaste removes ink from your clothes. Apply it to the stain, let it dry and then wash.
Synesthesia is a neurological condition that can cause a person to see, smell and taste music.
Goats produce more milk if they're listening to Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas Is You'.
Anger triggers the region of the brain associated with honesty, which is when the truth comes out.
In 2013, a British inventor sold ice cream that glowed when you licked it. It cost £140 a scoop.
Until the founding of the Vegetarian Society in 1847, vegetarians were usually known as Pythagoreans.
In 2009, a 13-year old Chinese girl tried to commit suicide so that she could donate her liver to her dying father.
Diana Ross, who sang ‘Ain't No Mountain High Enough’, lost her ex-husband to a mountain climbing accident.
Astronauts lost track of a tomato inside the International Space Station for eight months but found it this month.
Researchers have found that the average person will form about 400 friendships during a lifetime, but only 33 will last.
Will Smith is the only actor to have eight consecutive films gross more than $100 million at the domestic box office.
Intelligent people tend to care less about the opinions of others, they also enjoy being alone because of great sense of self.
In 1984, New Zealand's Prime Minister Robert Muldoon got drunk and spontaneously called for a general election. He lost.
The earliest carol singers can be found on The Bayeux Tapestry and were soldiers from western France known as the Brittany Spears.
As time goes by, humans are becoming less and less empathetic. Today, we care about others 40% less than people in the 1980s did.
In Japan, you can hire a handsome man to show up at your office and watch sad videos with you until you cry, then wipe your tears for you.
People tend to sneeze three times because one loosens up an irritant, the second gets it to the front of the nose and the third gets it out.
Brazilian footballer Argélico Fuchs spent much of his life spelling his name ‘Argélico Fucks’, resulting in headlines such as "Fucks off to Benfica."
Drinking white or green tea every day will minimize the environmental damage done to your skin and minimize fine lines and wrinkles.
There are roughly seven people in the world who look exactly like you and there is a nine per cent chance you will run into one of them in your lifetime.
‘Baby Shark Dance’, the most viewed YouTube video of all time, has over 5 billion more views than Luis Fonsi’s ‘Despacito’, the second-most viewed YouTube video of all time.
In 2001, India began building plastic roads using recycled plastic waste. The roads haven't developed any cracks or potholes despite years of usage and are much cheaper to build than traditional road surfaces.
Triboulet was a notorious court jester who was allowed to choose his own death after having insulted the queen of France. He chose to die of old age, which made the king laugh so much, he was spared and banished instead.
During The Great Depression, Al Capone started one of the first soup kitchens called Free Soup Coffee & Doughnuts For The Unemployed. Capone’s soup kitchen served breakfast, lunch and dinner to an average of 2200 Chicago residents every day.
‘Loving Day’ is an annual national celebration held on June 12th, the anniversary of the 1967 United States Supreme Court decision Loving v. Virginia, the day that Richard and Mildred Loving finally won their case, legalizing interracial marriage in the U.S.
On the day of South Korea's university entrance exams, the entire country goes quiet. Shops close, construction stops, and planes are grounded so that students can focus on their exams. Students that are late can even get a police escort to make sure they make it in time.
Bill Haast began extracting snake venom aged 15. He founded the Miami Serpentarium and injected himself with venom more than 60 times. His blood was used to save 21 snakebite victims. He created a venom serum to cure polio. He was bitten over 170 times and lived to be 100.
Ozzy Osbourne gave up taking acid during the recording of Black Sabbath's ‘Volume 4’. He said, “I took 10 tabs of acid, then went for a walk in a field. I ended up standing there talking to this horse for about an hour. In the end, the horse turned round and told me to fuck off. That was it for me.”
Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Merry Christmas and have a mouthwatering Monday! I love you all.
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𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕖!
Day Three -Jester-
"Jester what is a jester? Don't invent random shit Uchiha-dono." one of the peasants shouted pointing a dirty finger at one-eyed Uchiha.
"Be quiet you mongrel do you want to hear the story or not?" Shisui bit back while he and the others were sitting by the campfire. It was that time of the year. Ex criminal ex Akatsuki it was exciting to hear some of his horror stories before the change of the seasons and the appearance of ghosts. Before the ghost festival.
"And so here he was in Europe, my distant cousin, some country called Ireland. There they have some strange samurai they are not like my jailer Toshizo." He motioned at his guard dog. The reason more people feel safe by Shisui is the cursed shackle jutsu on his wrists neck and ankles. The brands stop him from using mind tricks aka Sharingan and stop him from fighting at all. If he however try the marks would burn him, hot like flames, the heat, would set his body ablaze and burn through skin tendon, and bone. All that in order to save innocents from this killing machine.
"They call them knights, they have these long fat, heavy swords that some can barely lift. And guess what their armor looks like. Metal heavy they look like tuna trapped in the fucking cans." He was so engrossed with his story that he even started to curse and Matarera showed him gently. He grins poking her nose.
But villagers were no better "Cut the crap Uchiha-dono what is this Jester creature." And Shisui just pointed at the young man as if saying to his love 'And him you won't kick for cursing? So cruel to me my Matarera'
"Calm down I will tell you. These people have these big stone castles and in each, you have a king that rules his own region. He sits on his ass all day, bored and fat. So Jester must crack jokes dance and make a fool of himself to entertain the king."
Shisui shifted and flames danced only to light the side of the face that was smooth and with healthy eye. "This king was hard to entertain. Every Jester failed and opayed with his life. So my cousin took the job to teach him a lesson. He too naturally failed, but when the king wanted to cut off his head. He moved and got pierced through his chest. Instead of dying he trapped the king and the whole court into genjutsu. Crows came out of his mouth eyes, making a wet crunching disgusting sound. Poling out blood his eyes tongue and brains." He crunched a few dry branches to make people who listen to flinch. "He made such a bloody gruesome scene that no one ever wanted to come any close to that castle king or his people. They spread a sinister story that the king is cursed for killing so many Jesters that a witch cursed him and sent her crows to eat his eyes. So now people there are fearful of crows- crows announce misfortune and predict death."
By the time he finished, no one was left by the fire, for people could swear that they saw Shisui grow wings out of his back. Black wings of a crow.
"Finally alone my love. let me spook you with a few well-placed kisses and pecks" She was lucky black wing loved her more than he loved to kill.
(Story inspired by Akatsuki thread that I have with @kcgarashi)
(as per request tagging the creator of this challenge list @lunyraartistry)
#⪼Verse: Akatsuki#october writing challenge#shisui uchiha#horror#october#day three#writing prompt#gore#blood#akatsuki#shisui imagine#shisui#naruto fic#naruto fanfiction
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Some Silence, and a Little More In-Between Pt. 2
Summary - A mage can whisper a multitude of incantations within the span of a fight when desired, and a bard knows what to sing and the tone to use in order to create such melodies to entertain their audience. Even Druids know what to say to the flora and fauna that surrounds all. So, what does Dahlia need just for a moment of time with her partner just for a single word?
Word Count - 715
Trigger Warning - Cursing, mentions of alcohol and drinking
Word Count -
OC x Canon Involved! (Dahlia x Percival De Rolo)
A/N - if you're not all for the constant inconvenient interruptions and the struggles of just getting to say a simple "I love you" to someone, I best recommend looking at something else. Ao3 is right here!
The first time’s the attempt, the second time’s to test the waters, and now the third is supposed to be the charm right?
What’s next after the third though? The fourth, the fifth… Or does it all become a constant mistake repeated and repeated all over again like an endless loop?
With practice, one gets better, right?
Yet with all the timing Dahlia could manage, it seems that she could never settle a good footing on it despite being well aware of when the circumstances called for accuracy.
In battle, it was different, when firing a spell, when sneaking past enemies, and knowing when it was right to cut in to save an ally or two without them falling into harm’s way by her own hands or another’s. It was surprisingly easy with enough luck and experience. Even outside of battle, it was used for simple things, knowing when to stop in order to fill a drink to its brim, predicting when an object will fall to be there to catch it, or something even simpler than the tasks she indulges every while in order to run a magically and constantly moving tavern.
Yet Dahlia could never beg for a second on the clock as it would be stolen by the greatest thief in the world, inconvenience. Something you’d never expect to see even in the dead of the night or the brightest of days, something that robs you blind of an object of importance–happiness even and leaves you feeling nothing but dread, annoyance, and maybe something more.
The tavern-keeper could’ve sworn she was cursed by some divine figure, maybe the gods felt like picking on some lowly mortal for once in a lifetime. Something to entertain their sadistic humor upon and dub as their newly found court jester just for the moment.
And even if that was the case, they could fuck right off.
Dahlia exhaled through her nose as if she was an agitated dragon, distributing smoke from its nostrils, and she could’ve had the looks of one too with the easily visible set of knitted brows and an indirect glare she was displaying over toward nobody in particular. Yet anyone who met her gaze would’ve instantly become petrified, shuffling away from her view as if it would save them from the feeling of her unintentional glare frying the hide of their backs.
She sat behind the counter, quietly serving drinks to morning customers who kept the running excuse of “it’s always a good time to drink somewhere in the world!” And as much as she humored that lame lie, she had no smile to give today other than some halfhearted attempt of one; a thin line across her lips that looked almost as if she was holding back a retort against their jokes. It was gradually setting to noon and Dahlia could only stare from the countertop, softening her gaze at a particular man in clad cobalt clothes topped with perfectly fluffy snow hair. He was talking to someone, a tiefling patron who was offering them a new quest of sorts for the reward of gold. It slightly spun the strings of her heart, round, and round, with every passing second, knowing that soon, Percival would depart again along with the rest of Vox Machina in order to pursue a life of thrills, adventure, money, and most importantly ale but– that wasn’t what was completely strangling her heart.
Dahlia tore her eyes away, dropping the longing look in her eyes to grab herself an empty glass and settled it on the polished wood, popping a cork off of a bottle dubbed, “The Morning Punch” and gradually poured it halfway up as a golden amber liquid splashed and swirled in an enticing manner, tempting her to drink it all up in high hopes of washing away her problems when suddenly.
A fingerless gloved hand snatched the cup before she could even lower the bottle of alcohol, sweeping the mage’s attention off the course of her thoughts as she watched Vex’ahlia diligently hold the cup by its rim with a caged hand, “isn’t it a little too early to be drinking, love?”
The woman blinked, holding the bottle close to her as if she was contemplating on whether to hide it or not despite it being obviously put to vain if she had done the previous, “Vex’ahlia! I– thought you’d be helping the others in– packing up your things, resupplying, and leaving,” they drew out, gradually naming each activity with a pause in-between in order to recall the mention but it sounded more like she’d been attempting to wind up a lie.
Vex’ahlia rose a brow at her, swirling the contents around after taking a sip, “if you want to kick us out for the ruckus we’ve caused, just say the word,” she lifted a hand as if ready to signal the others.
With a hasty response, the tavern-keeper spoke while inserting the cork back onto the lip of the bottle she’d been hoping to drink– but perhaps it was for the better. It was unprofessional and by just a twinge of gratitude, she was happy that Vex’ahlia got to at least drink first before she did. The half-elf didn’t seem to care about her reputation around the bar, it was almost admirable but felt more driven off by the fact that she got to flaunt the fact that she was close with Dahlia, which protected her from even damaging her reputation any further below. Yet, Dahlia didn’t mind too much though it was awkward to explain and go through the long tale of explaining how she’d met all of them in the first place, “no, no, no! Of course not. I would never!” You all are a joy to have around!” Dahlia said, slipping the drink back under the table with a soft smile, clearly plastering a disguise too late as Vex’ahlia eyed her for a moment, setting her cup down after another swig, “alright, I’ll cut to the bullshit.”
She leaned on her elbow against the counter, eyes half-lidded, “What’s with you and–” she paused, bringing a fist up to cover a suppressed burp from the alcohol before continuing, definitely throwing off the seriousness in her tone previously, “-- and giving everyone here the most aggressive and most pissed off look I’ve ever seen in all of Tal’dorei? You look like you’re trying to melt someone with your mind,” she says, gesturing with a finger to her brain before pausing and lightly tapping the cup to the table with consideration, “Wait, can you do that?”
“Last, I checked. No, I don’t think I can,” Dahlia embraced the question, responding as quickly as she could, before returning to the topic rather than hastily avoiding it, “But, if you’re so curious as to know…”
“Is it Percy?” She interjected, causing a lump of air to lodge between Dahlia’s upcoming words and throat, deciding to swallow it down as her mouth pried open to speak and explain yet, nothing but silence drew forth.
She made a sort of movement with her hand, moving it side to side in a swift motion, “Do you need me to slap some sense into him, verbally or physically?”
Dahlia raised her hands, clearing away the idea from Vex’ahlia who still considered the idea in the back of her eyes, “No! No! Nothing like that, I assure you! It’s just–”
She paused, swallowing the silence that continued to aerate from her mouth before explaining, “It’s been two months since I last saw everyone and I’ve managed to catch up with you all plenty over the last seven days you’ve stayed, even with De Rolo— but,”
The mage gently turned her head to spot the man in question, discussing with Vax’ildan over something that she couldn’t hear, “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to say but I suppose I’m just having the worst luck trying to find a proper time and place to say it, to him,”
Vex’ahlia hummed in acknowledgment, tracing the rim of her now empty glass to continue inquiring, “Well, what do you want to say?”
“I love you— … That’s all I ask,” Dahlia confessed, looking away in embarrassment at where her voice went with the words, though the “I love you” felt more held back than anything, rushed in the first few letters and sagging in tone once she realized that it just didn’t sound right in the moment, now leaving an awkward phrase to hang in the air. Looking to Vex’ahlia for some sort of reaction, they could tell from the look on her face that yeah… It sounded quite weird and off-putting but, she tried to play it off in a cool manner. Unfortunately, that did little to reassure Dahlia but it felt better to know she was at least trying.
The mage sighed, pacing, “I mean, it’s not like it’s the first time I’m saying it it’s just– every time I try, something gets in the way and it’s getting hard not to blame something, or someone when I start to feel like, maybe it’s not the world that’s against me but just, some stroke of misfortune that ends up becoming a grip over me,”
She paused, gesturing outwardly, “I mean, I’ve tried, I really have! I’ve tried to tell him during the night you all came to visit and asked to stay but some patrons needed my attention, badly, and then I tried again on the third day to tell him but he was too wound up in his work and I didn’t want to bother, and on the third and fourth– I tried to even say ‘love you’ but I couldn’t even get that out with some sort of intervention from Scanlan or Grog and I don’t want to blame them since they didn’t know and just–” A set of hands firmly placed themselves upon Dahlia’s shoulders, it took them a few minutes to process that the archer had herself halfway draped across the table in order to calm them, barely coming to question with when they had even done so.
“Dahlia, sweetheart!” She exclaimed, “breath, just breath,”
And like that, a soft exhale escaped and her shoulders drooped, allowing an exerted look to break out after her worried expression melted away, “Sorry, it’s just been… A difficult week, in trying to do something that’s so… should be easy,”
“Darling, nothing is easy. Sure, you’ve had a streak of bad luck for the last couple of days, and if anything. You’re not the unluckiest person in all of Tal’dorei, the only person I know who can hold that title is probably Scanlan!” She tried to humor and inevitably? It worked. Dahlia’s shoulder bounced as she attempted to suffocate a chuckle, failing as a smile still leaked behind her covered hand. The tension in her body quickly left as it came, making Dahlia relieved to have met not only Percival but the rest of Vox Machina, Vex’ahlia in particular, the one that first got her comfortable around the party.
There were a couple of things she almost admired Vex’ahlia for when they had first met, her natural beauty, her leadership skills, her humor, and her ability to make good out of any situation, at least from what she’s shown to Dahlia, and perhaps. There’s some pride she partakes in knowing that they became friends in the end.
Dahlia’s admiration was spliced in half as Vex’ahlia spoke again, picking up from where the joke finally eased her woes, “but listen, just take it easy and slow, we’ve still got about two more days left to figure out what we’re doing, where we’re headed and everything else and– maybe it could last a little longer considering how we handle things but, I’m sure you’ll get the chance to say those pretty little words to Percy’s face. It’s almost cute and admirable how much you’re doing just to say ‘I love you’ to him and I’m sure he’ll feel just the same! I just know that the weight of it all will be incredibly worth it! So.” Vex’ahlia slipped one hand off of Dahlia’s shoulders, using the other to pat it, “don’t lose hope just yet, Dahlia,”
The mage blinked, briefly closing her eyes to acknowledge the advice as a smile etched across her lips, “thank you, Vex. How could I–”
Her words were cut short when the sounds of a glass bottle sloshing to her side met her ears, turning to meet the noise as a gloved hand was wrapped ever so diligently around the neck of The Morning Punch, “I believe this– will be enough as payment,” the half-elf cheekily added, sliding off of the counter to take their reward in tow, admiring it as if it was a special souvenir that was bought.
Dahlia sighed but made no objections, pausing once again as the archer spoke with only a side glance back and a gentle smile, “but seriously, good luck to you, both,” she added, before walking towards the rest of the group, half the party was beginning to return from their shenanigans and errands. She lifted the bottle of alcohol high and swayed it side to side, shouting back, “I’ll be drinking in high hopes for you both!”
“How kind of you!” The tavern-keeper exclaimed, knowing fully well that it was just a way of saying how she would enjoy the drink to its last drop under a worded veil of respect, watching as Pike trotted up to Vex’ahlia who showed off the new rewarded beverage. Her eyes glinted with a glow of happiness, sweeping them over to someone else who could finally meet her gaze after so long. The nobleman adjusted his glasses and met her magenta sights with his green ones, providing a gentle smile and wave that ended up leaving Dahlia to mirror it in return.
Within the back of her mind, she thought,
Just two more days. That should be enough, right?
#Dahlia x Percival De Rolo#oc x canon#Dahlia Kei'korra (oc)#percival de rolo#percy de rolo#oc#original character#ao3 fanfiction#ao3 fic#grog strongjaw#vexahlia#vaxildan#keyleth#scanlan shorthalt#pike trickfoot#vox machina#vox machina fic#the legend of vox machina#critical role#tlovm oc#critical role oc#the legend of vox machina oc#I love the annoying feeling of something so simple being so difficult#I only revised once but it was a light skim so apologies if there's any additional mistakes
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hi!!!!
so sorry for this super delayed reply - we've been prepping to go on vacation and for getting a new puppy right after vacation, so it's been a little hectic
but omg I am so flattered that you enjoyed my insanely unhinged thoughts about the targaryens and the habsburgs!! 🥹😭 I always fear that I'm too rambly and that my thoughts don't make any sense, so I'm so happy you thought I explained it well bc after I write something out I'm always like "is this the most incoherent thing anyone has ever written?" lmao
and it's so interesting to also look into what you brought up about the archetypical features and how it's all tied together!
re: las meninas - ugh I totally feel you on that! Foucault and I are kind of enemies bc I literally never know what the fuck he's saying. I've read him both in the original French and in the English translation and I just literally do not know what this man is saying. I'm sure he's very smart, but to me, a true gauge of how good a scholar/thinker is hinges on their ability to be able to write in a way that helps everyone to understand their ideas rather than just perpetuating discriminatory academic traditions. but that's a rant for a different day!
and I absolutely agree that while I get why las meninas is important and why people study it, I don't find it to be a particularly compelling painting. if you're interested, the portraits Velazquez did of the court entertainers are very fascinating, although ultimately so tragic. the other half of that paper I wrote (the half that was not about habsburg inbreeding) was about the extent to which Velazquez humanized and dignified these entertainers. the super interesting thing is that a lot of prior scholars have bent over backwards to say that he was ennobling these sitters and showing their humanity, etc., etc. but when you actually look at the images, that's not totally true. interestingly enough, part of the reason people have made this argument is because Velazquez is treated as the "hero" of spanish painting, and therefore he must be faultless and beyond critique. however, that view totally obscures the reality of these portraits and the lives of their subjects. I think scholars now are starting to take a more critical and unbiased view on these images, but it's both fascinating and disturbing how long that narrative has been perpetuated.
to me, the most compelling of these images is The Jester Calabacillas (1637-1639) now in the Museo del Prado in Madrid. based on the scant records that exist of his life, scholars have tentatively suggested that among other possible mental and physical disabilities, he may have been autistic. as an autistic person myself, idk, there's just something so familiar and haunting in the image and like an odd sense of both connection and deep sorrow. idk how to explain it but it's just a very powerful image to me.
okay yikes I hopped on my art history train and now it has massively gotten away from me 😅
before I go, I wanted to comment on your mention of hux and out myself here as a major hux simp. idk why but after tlj I was just down so damn bad for this silly little guy and that has not really abated 😅
anyway, thank you for always being so kind and wonderful about my long messages!!
sending love, hugs, and a virtual piece of the chocolate cake that I made yesterday (if you want some) 🥰
🐍 🔪
Hello, my darling!! now I'm the one apologizing for the insane delay of my reply! this week has a little hectic but right now I'm in my 7hr class in my 'puter while the students work so I can sit down and reply to you properly.
A vacation AND a new puppy!??? that sounds amazing! I freaking love dogs and I'm always happy to hear about people's pets! may I ask where are you going off to?? do you know the race of the puppy?
Also, I totally get you about thinking you're not making sense because I feel that way all the time, but let me assure you that you most definitely are! and seriously, thank you for taking the time to write/share such a thorough and detail analysis on it! (like I've told you recently, I'm in awe at your knack for researching)
Re: Foucault and Velazquez. I'm glad I'm not the only one because, it's insane. I agree with you, scholars that write in such a way make it seem like they write egotistically, and not considering their readers at all. I'm always grateful when I find an author that writes in a way that is easy to follow (not saying that they dumb down their writing, but rather that they express their ideas clearly and to the point).
I also agree that Las Meninas isn't his best work! this take will be super underrated, but I once saw an exhibition of Velazquez' prints in a collection along with Goya and I found that very refreshing and interesting to see because I'd never seen that part of his work before.. But also because they also have a very haunting quality to them. I looked up The Jester! I'd never seen it before and it definitely stirred something because of the expression that he painted on him. Like, the smile looks very pained, and having the context that you told me definitely changes my perspective. I also looked up some of the other paintings of the court entretainers and seeing them all together definitely projects something tragic. Some of them are smiling but in an uncomfortable way, while others are posing in a very stiff way, where you can tell that, despite being entretainers, being in front of the artist makes you wonder that they must've felt examined and exposed and even objectified. Now I don't know if I'm the one making sense (?), but thank you so much for sharing this!! I never had much interest in Velazquez before, but now I'm very intrigued to read more on this matter! If you wrote about this AND about The Hasburgs, that must've been quite a paper, dear!
ALSO, FELLOW HUX SIMP!! AHHHHH YES YES YES! In this house (blog) Hux is the main husband! I'll never stop being salty over how they misused Domhnall Gleeson and Hux's arc because, his relationship with Kylo Ren would've been an amazing thing to explore, instead of having crusty old Snoke that ultimately wasn't even relevant at all. Hux and Kylo could've been the Tarkin and Darth Vader of the new generation and I'm AHHH THE LOST POTENTIAL
Thank YOU for coming to chat to ye old inbox!! I know it takes me a while to reply because my brain is literal scramble eggs at this point of the semester, but it makes me very happy to receive these messages every time! so thank you for keep coming back, and I will gladly accept that chocolate! and I can send you a piece of homemade pumpkin bread (which is my specialty) if you like it!
Hope you have the most fun vacation, and best of luck with the new puppy! x
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Chapter 3: Meeting everyone
A/N: you know what-? FUCK A SLEEP SCHEDULE, LIKE I NEED ONE. HA... I'm- I- I'm mentality ill..
word count: 749
last edited: 2022-06-05
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You, Haley and your new friend, Chica. All sat in her room, apparently the Glamrocks rooms all had there own generators to keep their rooms lit even if there was no power in the facility, apparently a lot of things happened behind the scenes with the business and that's why they shut down, although no one's sure why they left all these super expensive robots behind after though, it was quite sad honestly, the place had shut down sometime after you turned 14, you even remember throwing your party here on your 14th birthday, it was in the DJ's area and you had (insert your favorite Glamrock) there as well.
It sucked seeing the place in ruins like it is now, no power or anything, completely taking away the magical affect it had on you during your early years. you even remember (insert your favorite Glamrock) being your favorite, you also remember the first time you got spooked by a map bot, it jumped right out at you, basically demanding you to take a map, scary is what those things were.
"You guys know.. I could introduce you to the other animatronics!" Chica said mid conversation, "oh! sure! sounds like fun." Haley said, at this point you didn't have much of a choice so you went along with it, first she took you both to DJ Music Man, he waved at you all and you introduced yourself and so did Haley. It sort of went on like that with Chica taking you around to meet the others happily, once you had met everyone you had the fortune of not running into while you were running away from moon, you all went and just chilled around the food courts for a bit, but you had the constant feeling of something watching you, while seeing two strange red dots in the corner of your vision, you had a feeling you knew who it was but you chose to ignore him, now was not the time for your fun to be interrupted by a murderous jester.
It was quiet after a while, the three of you stopped talking, you were leaning back in your chair, staring at the ceiling, Haley just fidgeted with her finger-nails and Chica was just being Chica, while eating garbage, not take out, not that kind of garbage, but like, actual garbage, you cringed as you though about what that must have been doing to her insides, you grimaced till you saw movement in the corner of your eye again. Those same two red lights, your eyes snapped to there direction, only to find moon, standing there.. menacingly, you scrunched up you face and stuck your tounge out at him, only for him to pull his head back in surprise only to spin his face plate once, twice, than three times, with his shoulders moving up and down, mimicking laughter.
you sighed and rolled your eyes, mouthing a 'you're not funny' at him before sitting right in your chair and talking to Chica and Haley, what you didn't know was a pair of eyes where still staring at your back, even after you had turned away, trying to decide what to do, only to decide to leave, deciding that he'll annoy them another time, having a internal debate with himself and another about it. You ended up sleeping on Chica's sofa for the night, it was far too late to walk back in the dark, in some woods, where if you die, you probably won't be found.
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Extra content: Telling each of the Glamrocks that they are your favorite.
Freddy: Honestly is used to being called peoples favorite's, but after the plex' closed down and he hasn't heard anyone say that to him in a while, he's grateful, he def gives you a cute little head pat. 9/10
Chica: Lowkey is so flattered, like- She just can't help but smile, maybe, if she could, she would cry a little. 9/10
Monty: He just kind of looks at you and puffs up his chest and says some bullshit like- "yeah, I know." and walks away. if you're lucky enough you might have seen the genuine smile on his face before he fully turned away from you to walk in the opposite direction. 8/10
Roxanne: she's just say some bullshit like Monty did, "yeah, I'm everyone's favorite." with a smirk. lowkey tho- she thinks its cute how she's your favorite and is over joyed tbh. 7/10
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A/N: OK OK!!?!?!?!?!?!?? this chapter was lowkey kind of strange, and was really more for fun than for plot, I personally though this chapter was cute, so cute in-fact that I just wanna squish it and throw it in a trash compactor!
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