#MINOR KAI

[rosiehrs]

GUYS OK THE PICK-UP LINES WERE FUNNY BUT BROSKIES IM STILL A MINOOOORRRR IM A CHIIILLDDD PLS BE CAREFUL W WHAT YOU SAY TO ME😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[cable-salamder]

I wonder where he gets his hugs from…

These three have been on mind a lot recently, so to say.

Lyrics: Fare Well - Hozier (Unreal Unearth: Unheard)

[comparativetarot]

Nine of Wands. Art by Clara Kay, from the Moon Prism Tarot.

Resolve This card reminds you that the end is in sight, but there’s still more work left to do. The final challenge lies ahead of you and the Nine of Wands encourages you to keep moving forward, regardless of how battered you may feel because you have support. The inner senshi balance a lot between school, life, love, and saving the world. Despite their struggles they also have each other as they work through their individual conflicts and towards their goals. They can overcome everything, including a cram session and finals, together. Upright: The Nine of Wands assures you that you are strong and resilient. The end you are working towards can be achieved. Remember your support, allow them to help you as you move to the goal you seek. Rely on the people who care about you. Reversed: The Nine of Wands Reversed warns that you are struggling to reach that end goal due to feeling worn down. Perhaps you are overcome by doubt or refusing help due to pride or insecurity. Do you have too much on your plate? Is it time to delegate or ask for support?

[nubcatnoises]

The question: What attribute do you give Patchouli when her thing is manipulating all the elements?

The answer: Give her all of them, then.

Also Yuuto and the Support Koakuma are here.

(To clarify, every Gremoire evolves into Origamage, except for the ice one, which evolves into Astronomage. Origamage variants below.)

[mondothebombo]

you ever think about how happy and excited the ninja were at the beginning of the series and how they have since been through so many unimaginable traumas and had to watch their family die over and over again they aren’t the same happy kids anymore? also you ever think about how now that they’re finally healing whilst training the next generation, and these new kids are only scratching the surface of the danger and high stakes that come with the job?? cuz i do, all the time

so i made an amv based on my feelings and the lucky one by taylor swift was literally written with ninjago in mind and you cannot convince me otherwise

(pls watch this i spent 7 hours editing it)

[goldenavenger02]

how about "trying to wake them up" with lloyd after he kinda died in march of the oni?

Just a thought tho you dont have to do it if you dont like the point

"I'm tired, Kai."

Kai knew that he wasn't just talking about the concussion-induced exhaustion; he was all too familiar with the weary feeling in his bones that had been lingering for years, the way it wormed under his skin at the first sign of pulling in one, peace-filled breath and begged him to sleep.

For @badthingshappenbingo. Prompt: trying to wake them up

Kai's hands trembled as he helped lift Lloyd's body out of the rubble; his all too still body, not making a single noise or movement even when they laid him onto the stone floor.

His mind repeated 'not again, not again' as he desperately looked for signs of life and came back empty-handed.

He hadn't been able to contain himself when he watched Cole fall, but as he found himself pleading with Lloyd to wake up, his heart felt still in his own chest.

'Come on, Lloyd…'

He backed away when Master Wu rushed over and wrapped his hand around Lloyd's wrist, hoping for an answer when Jay asked, "you can do something, right?" only for his entire mouth to dry out as he was met with a look of defeat despite their overarching victory.

"There is nothing to be done."

Kai's hand drifted to Master Wu's shoulder as his own breathing hitched; he couldn't bring himself to look at Lloyd's face, his mind would just insist on him shaking him and trying to prove to him that he was just asleep.

Until he heard a gasp that had him looking right at Lloyd's face, unable to stop his mind from saying 'come on, Lloyd.'

Then Lloyd pulled in deep breaths interspersed with coughs that sent Kai to his knees as he set one of his hands on Lloyd's leg, unable to stop his eyes from watering as he sent a 'thank you' into the sky with the hope that for the first time, The First Spinjitzu Master had listened to him.

…

"Hey. Can you move him?"

Kai looked up at Jay from the couch, the left half of his body occupied with being a cushion for Lloyd, "why?"

"The new episode of Twisted Hearts came out yesterday-"

"You have a tv in your room and I'm on concussion duty," he sat up straighter to get a better look at Jay in the dim light, "do you know how hard it is to move him when he's asleep?"

"Do you want your sister in my bedroom?"

Kai huffed, rubbed a hand over his face and pointed as he spoke, "you're a jerk, you know that?" He got a smug smile in return that had him gently resting a hand on Lloyd's shoulder, "greenie, time to go to your own bed."

He got a groan in response as he curled closer to him, forcing Kai to gently shake the shoulder his hand was on, "come on, you need Tylenol anyway. Up."

At least this time he got a defiant "no" as his eyes stayed firmly closed.

"Lloyd, as much as you enjoy using me as a pillow, you really need to sleep in your own bed, it's…" he paused, looking back up at Jay, "time?"

There was a pause as Jay pulled his phone out of his pocket before saying, "eleven thirty."

Kai thought it was nine, time hadn't passed right since he thought he felt his own heart stop in the court- 'don't think about it.'

"It is way past your bedtime, kid. Last chance before I let Jay take over." He warned, knowing that he wouldn't be pulled off the couch legs first with a concussion, but the threat was enough to finally get him blinking himself awake, green eyes squinted with the first few minutes of waking up.

"Fine, 'm up," he groaned, rubbing his eyes, "mean."

"Well, Jay and Nya want to watch their dumb TV show-"

"It's not dumb! If you actually watched Twisted Hearts, then you'd understand the complexity of-"

"And," Kai started, cutting off Jay's yelling which was probably for the best with how Lloyd had winced at the volume, "you're still on a screen ban which means you need to lay down in your own bed."

Lloyd blinked. Once, twice and then an exhausted sounding "okay" as he used the couch arm to shakingly pull himself to his feet.

Kai rested his hand on his shoulder to guide him to his bedroom, trying not to think about how Lloyd looked like he was about to fall over with every step 'not breathing, not moving, not respond- don't think about it.'

He guided Lloyd to his bed, waiting until he sat and pulled his legs up before turning away to grab the Tylenol bottle from the nightstand and shake out two of the white pills into his hand.

"Sit up for a sec," Kai pressed, waiting until Lloyd propped himself on his elbows to press the pills into his hand, "I'll be right back with some water, don't fall asleep."

"I'm tired, Kai."

Kai knew that he wasn't just talking about the concussion-induced exhaustion; he was all too familiar with the weary feeling in his bones that had been lingering for years, the way it wormed under his skin at the first sign of pulling in one, peace-filled breath and begged him to sleep.

Not rest, but sleep. There was a large difference in Kai's head; rest was productive, sleep was forever.

'Lloyd's all too still body, not making a single noise or movement even when they laid him onto the stone floor.'

"I know, Lloyd." he said, finally forcing himself to twist the doorknob and go to the kitchen in search of a glass of water.

As he held the cup under the flow in the sink, he tried his best to shake the weight from his shoulders; this wasn't the first time he forced himself to get past it by avoiding it, and he also knew that it wouldn't be the last.

[peace0of0art]

i loved this scene in crystalized lava real

bonus pythor live reaction:

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Stormy Weather

kai parker x reader

summary: the rule is always the same: thirty minutes after it storms, kai can spend some time outside. that's when most people are still in their homes and it's too muddy for the children to go out yet. though this time, his father bends the rule, just a little, and lets his son out one wet, chilly afternoon. it just so happens that something bad is about to go down at that very same time, and luckily, kai is there to protect her.

tags: abusive parents, self-harm, one line about suicidal thoughts, blood, aspd / sociopathy, minor blood tasting, non-graphic violence, threats of r4pe / noncon (nothing actually happens), threats of violence, high school bullies, kai gets protective, kai loves his sister, a few cuss words, stabbing, hurt / comfort, happy-ish ending

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i made a post about this, but so many of my works lately have had dark themes; i'm going through it right now... i'm trying to write more fluffy things because i think we could all use some fluff, so if anyone has ideas, let me know! ♥

It had rained the night before. Dew is left on the grass and there is a chilliness in the October air. That afternoon, the children don’t want to put their jackets on to go outside, nor does their mother feel like cleaning them up after an hour in the yard. They opt to stay inside instead, occupied by books and puzzles. 

That’s why Kai is allowed to take a walk down to the end of the road. Usually, he could only go out moments after the storm, when it is cold, and wet, and the children are still too scared from the thunder. And while Kai loves storms, he doesn’t so much like being in them. Today is different. His parents are letting him out nearly a whole fraction of a day later. He is grateful for that, even if that choice is only a result of his siblings’ resistance. 

“Thirty minutes,” his father says, “and stay on the property.”

Kai nods. The property is huge, so that’s no problem. It accounts for a huge field, on which the house is built, a stone perimeter, a long driveway, and an edging of forest. Kai spends his time, thirty minutes per each post-storm, on every inch of the property. His favorite place, of course, being the woods. Oaks and firs ten times taller than himself create a canopy from the sun. Part of him feels like if the sun can’t see him, neither can his father. It is dark in the trees. Sticks crack as animals dodge back and forth. The woods terrify his siblings; they never go past the pine lining. 

Kai, on the other hand, goes as deep into it as he can. The extent of the property ends just enough to block out the house. As soon as the wet, darkened trunks cover the sight of the white, country-esque looking house, he sits. His butt will be moist from the ground in a couple of seconds, but he’s come to care less about that. 

A sigh escapes the boy’s lips as he stares into the great expanse before him. He’d love to explore more of it, but the fear of an active locator spell stops him. His father would never go into the woods after him, though he’d have a beating ready the moment he showed up back home. And trust him, Kai’s considered running away. He’s debated the pros and cons of trying. But when your family is a coven of witches, and the only world you know is your own property, Kai fears luck would not be on his side. 

With another sigh and a need to take his mind off things, he pulls out a switchblade. It’s funny - he had found the knife in these very woods, kicking up dirt as a pastime. His father would never let him keep it if he knew, so he buries it in a hole in the tree against which he’s leaning. Kai admires the blade; the silver that looks back at him when he wipes off the dirt. Several times he’s considered using it as an escape from his life of hell. But if the blade is too dull or proves too small, it would be a pointless, reckless attempt. 

He cuts his finger instead. Just a pin-prick on the edge of his pointer. Blood oozes and he watches it drip, down, down, down, until he touches it with his other finger. The knife is the furthest thing from clean, but Kai doesn’t care. The relief it brings is too important to him. It’s a distraction from the pain in his mind, even if he feels a jolt in his spine with every cut. 

Every cut, he thinks, bringing his attention to where to draw next. His mother would notice his wrist; his father would see his stomach. The last time, he picked his shoulder, but when his beating consisted of the man pulling him by the collar, it risked exposure. Kai scans his body, eyes eventually landing on his belt. Neither parent ever saw below it, thank god for that. 

Kai stands up, hilt of the knife in between his teeth. He unbuckles his belt quietly, acknowledging the metal clashes are the only sound echoing throughout the words. It makes him feel dirty, though he had never done that out here. Kai shakes his head to clear his mind. A drop of water drips from his head, down his cheek. He hadn’t felt it fall from the tree. It feels like a tear, though that’s an unfamiliar feeling; Kai was fourteen the last time he remembers crying. He’s eighteen now, and feels most of his emotions like a weight in his chest. They’re there, mostly in the form of nauseating pain, but he doesn’t feel anything sharply enough to cry about it. A stark contrast to his little brother, Caleb, who cries over anything and everything. 

The boy bites his cheek. He lowers his jeans just enough to find a good spot. Right below his briefs, maybe, where the skin’s not so thin he’ll bleed to death. As tempting as the thought is, a slow death isn’t the way he wants to go out, especially if he’s not sure it would kill him. Kai takes a deep breath, then readies the knife against his thigh. He starts with a small cut, but graduates at the sight of blood being released. A longer, deeper one is made directly under it. It hurts, but as the weight in his chest eases with every drop on his skin surface, he can’t stop. Kai makes a third, and then instinctively reaches out to catch a bit from his second cut before it can stain his jeans. It runs down his leg, threatening the denim that his mother would surely see in her weekly rotation of washes - the woman demands to do his. Whether that’s his father’s order or of her own accord, Kai doesn’t know. 

He stares at the blood, both that on his finger and what gathers on his thigh. He can feel the pain - a sharp stinging now, a dull throbbing later - and lets it in in place of his emotions. The heaviness in his chest is replaced by the harsh sensation, and as gruesome as it is, it’s something he much prefers. 

Kai stands still as the blood dries in the place he left it. In another minutes’ time, he’ll scrape it off, then pick his nails with his teeth. Again, dirty. Gruesome. He’s stopped caring. He’s all alone out here anyway. 

When the time comes, he does just that. Dried blood collects under his nails, and then the dark red substance meets his tongue. His taste buds are overwhelmed with the rich, metallic taste. He’s not sure if he hates it or loves it. 

At age twelve, his historical studies consisted of lore. Aunt Maggie would visit him and Jo every Tuesday and Thursday to teach them about it. The two were homeschooled, like every other child in the coven, and taught by their elders. One particular week, Aunt Maggie hit the topic of vampires. His father told her to touch it lightly. Kai overhead the reasoning, though he didn’t understand it. “The boy is a siphon,” he reminded, “we don’t need to repeat old mistakes.” 

But whatever old mistake it was, Kai wasn’t bothered. He was used to being called a mistake, and figured that’s what his father meant. Kai then listened to his Aunt tell the lore, and the stories, but that’s all he ever thought they were. Now, at eighteen, Kai still isn’t sure what he thinks. Maybe vampires are real; maybe they aren’t. Maybe they are monsters. Maybe they’re just people burdened by the pain in their lives; people who express that pain differently, and are seen as abominations for it. 

Kai wonders if that makes him one. For dealing with his pain by cutting it out of his skin. For licking his own blood when it drips from his wounds.

What would he know? He’s never seen one. 

After two more minutes, Kai finally pulls his pants back up. He starts to fumble with the belt, knife back in his mouth, when he suddenly stops. A wind blew past his ear, carrying the faint cry of a girl. He listens for a moment, but upon hearing nothing new, goes back to his previous feat. Kai turns to the tree to hide his knife. The wicked laughter of a group is heard in the distance. The shuffling of leaves. Another feminine whine. 

The pieces puzzle themselves in Kai’s mind, and he arms himself with his knife once more. To check the sound out, at the very least. To scare them off his property, maybe, or just to scare them. 

Kai treads carefully through the woods, knowing where to step to conceal his identity. A skill his new friends don’t seem to have. He approaches until he comes across a circle of boys. His age, but bulkier - better fed - and slightly taller. The way they stand looks as if they’re trying to cower over someone - a sight Kai doesn’t appreciate, having been the one forced into submission over a hundred times in his life. One rattles off an insult. Another kicks his leg out. 

“Please stop,” the broken voice of a girl he can’t see enters his ears. She’s in the circle, he supposes. Kai watches a little longer, trying to decide how the situation makes him feel. 

A boy barks in laughter at her plea. He mocks it, then bends down to grab her. With brute strength, he lifts her by her shirt collar and pins her to the tree behind her. Her hair gathers around her, bouncing from the force. Tears sting her eyes, yet she’s brave enough to not let them fall. 

“You’re not going anywhere until we’re done with you,” he says, head pointed down to her chest.

Suddenly, the girl reminds him of Jo. Beautiful, brave. Bound to end up in a situation like this, because sometimes she’s just a little too trusting. Despite their forbearance from each other’s company, Kai loves his sister. He misses her visits, when she used to sneak into his room to play when they were children. He misses her touches, those she’d steal in defiance of their father’s direct order. It wasn’t until recent years that they drifted apart. The babies took her attention away, and she slowly morphed into a daddy’s girl. Doing right by him became her mission, which meant leaving Kai behind to rot in his room alone. 

Still, Kai loves her. As best he can, at least, as he feels each emotion he ever knew bury itself inside his soul. An overwhelming darkness conceals them, blackens them, and replaces them with nothing but the dense weight. 

Another cry escapes her lips, freeing Kai from the entrancement of his memories. The boy’s hand creeps up her sides, under her shirt. Soft skin is exposed as he bunches up a handful of the material. He pulls, and his friends egg him on. They’re just as vile as he is. 

Kai gives away his position with a crack of a stick. Six pairs of eyes whip around to face him. He leans against a tree, teasing the knife between his fingers. There’s a silent standoff for a moment, until one of them speaks. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Me? This is my property. I think the better question is, ‘what are you doing here’?”

“Run along home then. This is none of your business.”

Kai cocks his head. “Who’s she?”

“Also none of your business.”

The girl locks her eyes on Kai. She stares, hoping he’ll meet her gaze. Finally, he does, and he can confirm she’s not there on her own accord. 

“Y’know, my father has a lot of rage. He won’t like knowing that little high school boys are taking advantage of young girls on his property.”

“What’s he gonna do? Shoot us?”

“Maybe.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Another of them challenges. “He’s not here. And we could easily take you.”

Kai steps forward. As he does, the supposed leader tightens his hold on the girl. Fear flashes in her eyes like a fire. Kai isn’t threatened, though. He keeps his eye on her, while moving to stand in between the group. They all watch him cautiously. 

“Let her go.”

“No.”

“Let her go, or I’ll fucking stab you in the neck,” he replies calmly. 

The boy wavers, but doesn’t let up. “You wouldn’t.”

Kai flicks the knife in his hand again, then points it at each of the boys. “Get the fuck out of here. I’m not asking again.”

Another minute. Suddenly, one of them bolts. He races through the forest at seemingly mach speed, barreling into trees and weeds as he goes. The one that was closest to him then follows. 

“Hey!” The boy in charge yells. “You pussies!” He turns back to Kai. “You’re full of shit, I’m not afraid of you.”

Kai doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to - the glare in his eyes does it for him. 

“Y’know, Thomas, maybe we should go,” one of the remaining four mutters. “She isn’t worth it.”

“We’ve had this planned for weeks and you assholes are bailing because of some skinny kid with a three inch knife.”

The girl’s face pales at his words. Kai’s jaw tenses.

How easily Jo could be a target just for being beautiful. 

The boys shuffle their feet, but none of them move. Thomas, the one within spitting distance of Kai, stares back at him. A smirk curls on the edge of his lips. It’s at that moment that Kai decides he’s had enough. One graceful stride lands him close enough to jab the knife into his neck. The boy had no time to react, but does so now by releasing the girl and grabbing at the wound. His friends shriek in terror. They jump around uselessly, having no clue what to do. Kai steps back and grabs the girl before she falls. To his surprise, she lets him. Her face buries in his chest as she tries to find her own strength. 

The boy, rather stupidly, pulls out the handle and throws it at Kai’s feet. “You’re fucking crazy!” He screams, as if Kai didn’t already know that. He takes one more look at the emotionless boy, then the girl gathered in his arms, and runs off into the woods. His friends scamper after him, not wanting the same fate. In thirty seconds’ time, the woods are silent again. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers, still holding her. It’s a weird feeling to him, to have a girl in his arms. Kai isn’t sure how long he’s supposed to hold her, or comfort her. He doesn’t really know what to say, either. 

She remains quiet for a few heartbeats longer, but then nods. Her head moves against his chest until she finally looks up at him. “Thank you.”

He only looks at her. 

“Are you okay?” She asks back. 

This confuses him. “What?”

“You stabbed him.”

“Oh.” Kai shrugs. “I’m fine.”

She straightens her posture, maybe to read him better. “Not a fan of bullies, I take it? Do you have your own at school?”

“I’m homeschooled.”

“Oh.” She looks down into the fallen leaves. Her eyes trace the forest floor, and then she takes a few steps back to grab something lying in them. His knife. She hands it to him. “Well, thank you anyway.”

Kai nods. Then, for whatever reason, he gives her a small truth. “My father.”

“What?”

“Not a fan of bullies.”

“Your father? The one you mentioned, with the rage… he bullies you?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

She takes another step towards him. “It’s not fine.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I understand,” she says, reaching up to brush her thumb against his cheek. Kai flinches. “I’m sorry.” Her hand recoils, but he catches it.

“Don’t apologize. I’m just not used to it.”

She then takes a seat on the forest floor, patting the spot next to her. “Sit with me?”

Kai figures he still has ten minutes before he must go home, so he does. It’s quiet for a little while. They listen to the wind in the trees and feel the chill at their backs. Both enjoy the others’ company, neither fortunate enough to have it often. 

But the girl then breaks the silence by tucking her knees into her chest. The leaves crinkle around them, and Kai’s attention shoots to her movement. 

“I can’t believe he said he was planning that for weeks,” she mutters.

“Do you know him?”

“I know of him. He’s the quarterback at my school. I’m the girl that eats alone. Why would he target me?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Kai blurts out. She looks at him, and he suddenly wonders if that comment warrants an apology after what she’s been through. “Sorry. I meant that as, like… Not in a creepy way.” Okay, that was worse. “You remind me of my sister,” he finally says. 

“I do?”

He nods. “She’s beautiful, too, and too kind for her own good.”

“She sounds sweet. Are you guys close?”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh.” 

“My family’s kind of fucked up.”

“That makes two of us.”

Kai looks at her. It’s nice to hear that someone relates. Of course, not nice for her, but there is a comfort in knowing he’s not completely alone. 

“If those boys ever give you shit again, come back here. I live around that field at the edge of the trees. You look like Jo. My father will protect you if he sees you need help.”

She nods. “What about you? Where will you be?”

“In my room. Unless you catch me on a day where I’m allowed out.”

“Which is?”

“Thirty minutes after every storm. Because my mother doesn’t want to clean the mud off my baby brother’s clothes.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Like I said.” He then turns to her. “But I’m serious. If they come after you, go to the field.”

“Because I look like Jo,” she confirms. 

Kai nods. 

“Thank you.” She takes a deep breath. “I should be heading back soon. My parents care less about me, but still don’t want me out late.”

“A statement to which I relate too much.”

“Will I see you again maybe? Perhaps after the next storm?”

“You’d want to see me again?” He’s for sure she’d be terrified of him after earlier events. 

“It’s not everyday a cute boy stabs my bully with a knife.” She smiles. 

“Okay.” She’s different. Not at all like he’d expect her to be, if he were to only judge her by her smile and bright, kind eyes. Of course, most people are able to hide their pain behind a well-designed mask. Only a small fraction become neck-stabbing sociopaths. 

Despite that, though, she isn’t afraid of him. If anything, she seems more curious. 

“Okay,” she beams. “Bye…”

“Kai.”

“Y/N,” she offers in return.

“Y/N,” he tastes her name on his tongue. Her eyes light up at the sound of her name reverberating off his lips.

She smiles, and then out of nowhere, leans forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, again, Kai. You don’t know how thankful I am that you were here.” And with that, she’s off. 

Kai stares after her in a stunned silence. Her lips still tingle on his cheek. His skin feels hot to the touch, warming him up despite the passing breeze. 

It takes a couple heartbeats for him to come back to his senses. By that time, she’s lost to the forest, gone, and only in his memories. He hikes back to his tree to put his knife back in its spot, then makes his way home. He’ll see her again, hopefully. Next storm, she’ll be there. She’ll become more than just a memory, but maybe a comfort as well. A friend. 

[ghostduck]

Been watching Ranma 1/2 and I'm obsessed with this voice line from Kuno.

[ladybugsimblr]

Looks like Jayce has a few reasons to stay in Komorebi for a bit longer. He definitely has to think about a job though because I know King G is not about that 100% support your adult children forever life.😅 He might not be about this skip college life either, but if Jay can go straight to the "pros" why not!

[distant-velleity]

Stay With Me

Summary: Santiago and Chrysos have a lot of feelings to work out. Spoiler alert: they still don't confess. Word count: 2.6k Warnings: major character not-actually death (this is my Boxing Day gift to you all) A/N: I wish I could've put Major Character Death as a real warning. Alas... such is life. Anyway :) I'm super done with writing this, I don't wanna keep going insane, I'm just gonna post it as is. It's actually pretty tame for angst on my part. Enjoy!! Tagging: @thehollowwriter (finn mention!!!) @kitwasnothere and @nahelenia as my top 3 murderers <3

-

When Santiago comes to, groggy and lightheaded, he’s greeted by the watered-down sun filtering through the seas of Octavinelle above him. Bird and sky separated only by the glass and several gallons of water, his limbs sure feeling as distant and heavy as the ocean.

Ah, he thinks, ever-intelligently. How did I end up here…?

He can’t quite remember. All of his recent memories are escaping like soap bubbles in the wind. 

While he racks his brain trying to figure it out, someone approaches and kneels next to him. A single glance at the person’s blonde hair and red eyes tells Santiago all he needs to know.

“Sorry about that,” Chrysos says, monotone as always. It’s hard to tell if the merman really is sorry or not. “I usually don’t get normal customers involved when 86’ing nuisances.” 

Santiago can’t help the smirk that comes to him all too easily. “Are you sure I wasn’t the nuisance?”

“Hard to say,” replies Chrysos with an amused huff. He stands back up and offers Santiago a hand, to help him stand up.

Something about it feels off—maybe because Chrysos’ gaze seems so benevolent, that he seems so unbothered about gently helping someone he’d normally be too embarrassed or proud to. Still, Santiago laughs and sits up. “Tight-lipped as always,” he comments, and reaches for Chrysos’ hand, pulling himself up to stand.

They hold hands for a moment longer than they need to. It feels, if he dares to admit it just to himself, nice—

“Hold it.”

As if he’s been burned, Santiago jumps away from Chrysos at the sound of Azul’s voice. Approaching them are the Octavinelle housewarden and his entourage of three. 

Santiago notices, with a distant sense of dread, that he’s never seen Chrysos look so furious and disappointed upon seeing his upperclassmen. 

“Get back, Parrotfish,” Floyd warns. “That’s not the right Lionfishie to be getting all buddy-buddy with.”

How odd. Why would Floyd, of all people, go out of his way to warn him?

Santiago glances at the Octaquartet, then at Chrysos, whose expression is steadily darkening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chrysos says coldly.

“My, my.” Jade conceals his magic pen, clasped tightly in one hand, beneath the other. “There’s no need for that frigid tone. I’m sure we’re already on the same page.”

“No?” interjects Santiago. “No, we’re not. What’s going on?”

Finn looks him dead in the eye and then cocks his head towards Chrysos. 

Santiago turns back around, and everything changes. 

Where Chrysos was just standing as normal, there’s suddenly inky shadows surrounding the Octavinelle freshman. His eyes flare red-and-yellow as the ink (no, blot) viciously wraps around him in strands to form a cocoon of sorts. Santiago staggers back when the cocoon contracts, a dark purple haze spreading throughout the area and blocking out the sun. The whole dorm is plunged into a deep-sea darkness.

It’s Chrysos and a towering Phantom now, him hovering a little too close to the glowing pendant around its neck for anyone’s liking. 

“We’re running out of time,” Azul says grimly. “Our fight from earlier didn’t do anything—”

“I’ll help fight him if it cuts down on time,” Santiago immediately declares without missing a beat. “If it saves his life.”

“Of course you would. Well, stay sharp, then.”

And Santiago tries, of course—

—but it doesn’t stop him from misfiring at some point, trying to hit the Phantom, only for it to grab Chrysos with a sickening crunch of his ribs and hold him up in range of the destructive fire spell. Santiago can only watch as it strikes Chrysos indiscriminately. 

The resulting wail of agony is bloodcurdling and unbearable, but not nearly as much as when the Phantom moves a thrashing Chrysos closer and closer to its chest, a gaping hole like a beast’s maw forming there, the pendant dangling right before it.

“Wait—”

It’s what all the teachers warn about when they discuss the occurrences of Overblots. Defeat the Phantom, and the victim will come out unscathed. Take too long to destroy it, and the Phantom will… will…

Chrysos is brought to that gap, drawn in like an object near a black hole.

Santiago can’t breathe. 

He can’t bring himself to close his eyes either. Even when a sinking feeling blossoms in his stomach, gripping him with all the force of a predator’s claws.

The ‘hand’ of the Phantom squeezes, another crunch of body parts that shouldn’t be breaking—

“Don’t you dare take him—let him go—” Santiago begs, but it’s useless.

The Phantom simply. Tucks Chrysos away in itself like nothing. Ignorant to his furious, fearful screams. 

The hole in its chest closes over with viscous blot. 

Santiago can’t look away.

“Ah… Ahh…”

He 

can’t 

look 

away—

“AAAAAHHHHH—!!!”

A guttural scream tears its way out into the open from Santiago’s raw throat, burning and hoarse and painful. Still begging for a life not his own, his eyes fly open as he sits up in a grieving frenzy. “Chrysos, please, don’t leave—!”

“I’m right here,” calls a familiar voice from beside him, miraculously free of its terrifying Overblot overlay. It’s melodious and soothing, easy on the ears, just when he thought he’d never hear it again.

“You—” Santiago’s hand shoots out without thinking, clamping down on Chrysos’ where it was gripping the edge of his blanket.

…his… blanket…?

Only then does Santiago realize, half-delirious, that he’s on a bed in the school infirmary. He’s not in Octavinelle, he’s not surrounded by torrents and mists of pure blot. The air is clear here, and the sun is shining bright and pleasant through the windows like it does through the forest canopy back home. Although his lungs still burn a little, everything’s okay.

And, looking at the boy sitting right next to him—Chrysos is okay. He’s alive. 

In silent awe, Santiago squeezes the cold, ungloved hand in his a little more tightly.

He’s alive.

Chrysos bites his lower lip and pointedly avoids looking at their joined hands. “What a nightmare you were having,” he says, false indifference in his tone. “Screaming like that… You’re lucky the nurse isn’t in right now.”

Santiago blinks. “A nightmare?” 

“Yes. You were trembling and crying out in your sleep. If it weren’t the first time you’d shown any signs of movement in days…” Chrysos trails off, brows pressed tightly together.

Putting aside the fact that it was all little more than a bad dream, thank the Great Seven— “What do you mean, in days?” Santiago echoes disbelievingly. “I don’t even know how I ended up here, and you’re telling me I’ve been unconscious for days? Hello? Way to hit me with the double whammy.”

It was an attempt to lighten the mood for both their sakes, but when the corners of Chrysos’ mouth twitch downwards and his lips thin in a stressed frown, Santiago immediately realizes he’s said something either really wrong or really stupid. Or both.

“You don’t remember what happened at the SDC?” asks Chrysos. “Weren’t you there? You know, for Schoenheit’s Overblot, like Yu said…”

Santiago’s eyes widen. He only slightly loosens his grip on Chrysos’ hand a second later. “Oh, you mean—”

Toxic purple mist surrounded them, reeking of a sickly sweet concoction. 

More saccharine still was the smile on Vil’s face. Even as blot dripped down his snow-white face from beneath his elaborate crown, he still found it in himself to pursue being the fairest one of all. 

Showing simultaneously all and nothing of his burning jealousy and bitterness.

“—yeah, I remember,” he continues, letting out a laugh with no real humor in it. “I even remember getting a faceful of poisonous mist and then passing out right after the awards ceremony ‘cause I tried to act tough.”

“At least your brain wasn’t permanently damaged. That’s good,” remarks Chrysos with a half-hearted smirk. “Maybe you’ll be out of here sooner than I thought.”

No, there was definitely a screw knocked loose if Santiago was imagining Chrysos Overblotting in place of Vil… much less sobbing desperately at the possibility of his death…

…Santiago swallows, mouth suddenly dry for no good reason. “Uh-huh? I don’t know, I still feel a little off.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Chrysos suddenly leans forward, hand subconsciously moving at lightning speed to place itself on Santiago’s wrist. “You still feel off? You’re not messing with me, are you?” he asks, voice demanding with a hint of… something else. “I swear, I will have the nurse over here faster than—”

“Whoa! Don’t get your boxers in a twist, jeez!” Santiago exclaims, and Chrysos halts immediately. “Am I still dreaming? Did you just gaslight me into thinking this is reality? I mean, seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worried about me.”

“I’m not worried,” retorts Chrysos, although the watery look in his eyes as he tries to meet Santiago’s gaze says otherwise. And where there would normally be an underlying bite to his tone, it’s totally absent. “Isn’t it fair to ask questions when a certain someone has been unconscious for days?”

Nevermind, I’m definitely not still dreaming.

“So you’ve been worried about me. Got it.” Hopefully that isn’t giddiness bubbling up in his chest, despite—or because of—the way Chrysos sputters out another denial, because it sure as hell is conflicting with his sense of spite. “Why don’t you save any of it for yourself? You’ve been a resident here way more often than me.”

Chrysos stiffens, before puffing up a little; chin lifted indignantly and gaze judgmental. Santiago wouldn’t have it any other way.) “I was conscious all those times and did not actively inhale dangerous toxins made by a very powerful mage.”

Seriously, this guy… Santiago shakes his head. “Dude, I heard you nearly turned yourself into sand that one time, also because of ‘a very powerful mage.’ I saw for myself when you could’ve died fighting Jamil or Overblotted at the same time and had to stay in the infirmary for a very lengthy check-up. You know, you—” 

died in my dream because of me and I would never forgive you or myself for that matter if that actually happened,

“—are a grade-A idiot getting hung up on the wrong details,” he decides to say instead. “One of these days, you’re gonna end up back here and I’m gonna get to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Hmph.” Chrysos scoffs and turns his head away. To anyone else, it might look aristocratically prim and stuck-up in the way his hair tosses slightly. “You wouldn’t come running to my bedside crying out my name, then?”

It’s Santiago’s turn to stiffen, feeling called out in too many ways. “...fuck, I forgot you heard me talking in my sleep. Well…” He pauses, searching for an appropriate response. “I would if you wanted me to.” He doesn’t have time to appreciate how smooth that was on his part before his traitorous mouth moves faster than his brain, going right ahead and saying, “And I’d still do it even if you didn’t want me to, ‘cause if you die on me I’m absolutely going to—”

Crap! Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack!

He shuts up immediately before he can incriminate himself any more, pursing his lips and watching carefully for signs of a negative reaction.

Almost too neutrally, Chrysos glances back over at him from the corner of his eyes, the piercing look in his irises only partially hidden by his lashes. “...You really would be that concerned?”

“Maybe,” Santiago answers, pasting on a nervous smile.

“‘Maybe’ isn’t an acceptable response.” Chrysos looks him straight in the eyes. His hand feels warmer, for some reason. “Don’t be shy. What would you do?”

Santiago huffs defensively. “Fancy that, you telling me to not be shy—”

“Santiago. Stop messing with me already.”

That tone, desperate and curious and impatient all in one, is singlehandedly more commanding than any other order Santiago has ever gotten in his life. 

The beastman slumps back against the headrest, being sapped of his will to argue. He already knows it’s pointless. It’s kind of hard to beat around the bush when the bush has already slapped you in the face with a very thorny nightmare. “Miss you, probably. I mean, I dreamed about it, but…” 

He thinks about the way he screamed and forced himself to wake up because that scenario had seemed so real. Probably can only begin to describe whatever he was feeling.

“...Well. You’re the only person who’s ever gotten me, y’know, so don’t die because you couldn’t help yourself. I don’t wanna have to cope with my dream becoming reality. Please,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh.” Chrysos stares blankly at him for a moment, then at their hands. “...oh,” he repeats, in a much quieter ‘sudden realization’ sort of voice.

Santiago squints at him. “Dude. What kind of guy tells his buddy to open up about his feelings in such a pleading tone and then is surprised when he actually opens up about it?”

“The one right next to you who was expecting his buddy to dodge the question again.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Santiago replies, rolls his eyes. 

Chrysos worries his bottom lips, gaze shifting to the side suspiciously quickly. It looks like he’s considering something.

“...Are you taking that literally?” Santiago wants Chrysos to take what he said literally, to be honest, but that’s beside the point.

“Because you’re so dense, yes,” Chrysos snaps back. His free hand comes up to tug one of his curls closer to his face in that bashful way he always does. “If you died like you could’ve from Schoenheit’s poison, I would march right over to the afterlife and drag you back into the world of the living. Then I’d beat you into the ground for hurting me like that. Your ass is not leaving this life until I say it’s okay to. Does that make enough sense to you?” 

“I don’t remember the story of the musician and his muse being this violent,” mutters Santiago, feeling incredibly touched despite the brash nature of that admission. Or maybe because of it.

Chrysos’s cheeks flush as red as the ends of his hair. “You asked. I delivered. Look who’s being a hypocrite now.”

“Touché.” 

It feels like something between them has… changed, when they both fall silent for lack of things to say. Not in the terrifying way Santiago’s surroundings shifted during his nightmare, but a change for the better. Like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders, making the silence bearable.

“I… think I may need to go,” Chrysos says, a dusting of pink still on his face. Maybe because he’s spoken too much, or at least by his own standards. He stands up, letting go of Santiago’s hand. “Culture fair and. All that. You know how it is. I’ll see you—”

“Wait a minute.”

Santiago reaches out and, instead of just grabbing, intertwines their fingers. His longer ones settle perfectly between Chrysos’ knuckles as if they were meant to be there. 

The merman goes still. 

“Hypothetically,” Santiago begins, “if I asked you to stay a little longer—would you say yes?”

Chrysos’ mouth opens, freezes, and then closes. When he next speaks, it’s slow and cautious, like he’s testing out how the words actually feel. Testing the waters. “In this hypothetical scenario… I could be convinced to stay. Possibly.”

“Cool. So don’t run away just yet. Stay here with me.”

They make eye contact.

“...How persuasive. Well—” Chrysos sighs and sits back down, before offering Santiago a small smirk. Barely noticeable, but there. “It seems like I’ve actually got plenty of time to spare all of a sudden.”

Santiago can’t help but smile too.

[thotsforvillainrights]

I just gotta say I absolutely love what you did with the blog change, the new banner thingies you do for each character looks really nice!! :D

And might I request just some general smut headcanons for my man's Goto, chrono and chisaki?

(Thank you! Now if only I could stay consistent with updating the masterlist or writing in general. THEN it would be 100% the best haha! Until then, I can only dream. Ramblings aside, I feel like I've done something for Chisaki and Chrono at least once in the past before but I'm too lazy to search the masterlist. So just in case, let's do it again!)

~Muscular/Chisaki/Hari Smut Headcanons~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

-This has probably been mentioned in the past but should be brought up again...you have to have a certain type of thick skin to put up with this man. This is regarding the relationship in general. At least as far as LOV asshole status goes, you might have a better chance trying to reason with Shigaraki or Dabi. With Muscular, you absolutely cannot take things to heart. He's gruff...he's a gruff man and that's the best way to describe it with him. Now leading into the smut:

-Being hardheaded and stubborn means he has a certain way he wants to go about things. That means if you ever had any hopes of topping him then you're just shit out of luck. 99.9% of the time during sex he's calling the shots. That other small percentage was the one singular time he let you take over on your anniversary. Even THEN he still ended up leading near the end of things. He just can't help being in control most of the time/all the time. Hopefully that doesn't get to you too much because otherwise it may lead to an unwinnable argument.

-He's a little rougher with the things he does. That bein said, he's not a monster! You don't have to worry about him doing anything despicable like taking things too far when you're not for it, or hurting you during it (on purpose at least). He obviously cares enough to be in a relationship with you so no worries there. Also, he's fine implementing some form of a safeword if you feel you really need it. He's grimey but again, he's not a monster.

-Bravo for getting him to be in a relationship with you in the first place. Bravo for even getting him to notice you long enough to hold a conversation without looking at you in disgust. He's surprised by his own actions and so are you (no more so than Pops. The old man is the most shocked by everything). Anyhow, he cares for you but can tend to be selfish with things. Give him a break as he's still learning how to love and how to go about things in a relationship both sexual and nonsexual.

-Beforehand he's going to obviously request you get cleaned up. Don't try to get him with the "but Kai, we're both just going to get dirty again" speech because it's not going to work unfortunately. It's like a chore but you'll come to find that the headache is worth the reward. Once between the sheets you realize he's learned so much since the last few times. He's sickened by the thought (and embarrassed too) but he's spent some time researching just for you. He applies what he's learned and then proceeds to perfect it bit by bit. He won't let anything he does to you be taken terribly whatsoever. He wants to be able to KNOW he's done a good job pleasing you.

-His pace can tend to be a bit slower sometimes, along the line of making love rather than straight up fucking. However, his tune changes easily based on how the night is going and how badly he wants to finish. Speaking of finishing, don't ask him to finish anywhere but in you or in a condom. Splashing bodily fluids all over the place creates unnecessary mess so unfortunately (if you're into facials) you won't be getting one unless you wear into him for a long while until he breaks. Oh, and expect the cleanup to come afterwards too. A mandatory shower before aftercare cuddles is the main thing to expect. As mentioned beforehand, the headache is worth the reward.

-Talk about fun sex, this is the man to fulfill that. It's rare he can be anything but teasing both in and out of the bedroom. Dating him is like dating a best friend. He's pretty much the best partner of the 3. He's attentive and listens to your needs. Don't get me wrong, he's still a little bit of an ass but a teasing one at that. It may get to be annoying how many times he tires to get into your pants once the two of you start dating but if you let him know the jokes annoy you then he'll try to cool off on them for you. He understands not to push his limits too much when it comes to you.

-A lot of times he'll try to draw a little laughter out of you during sex. That way once you're laughing he can swiftly turn it into moans for him. It's like a challenge for this man almost. The sex blindsides you too. One minute you'll be outside in the backyard chatting and laughing on the picnic blanket and then the next thing you know you're giving him a handy in the shed. Other times you're chilling on the couch playing games or watching a movie before you find yourself on the carpet while he puts his tongue to work. Sometimes you might find yourself walking into it thinking you'll just have a quick shower together before suddenly your back is against the wall while he's plowing into you beneath the warm water flowing from the showerhead. Roll the dice on it.

-Despite this, he's really a great person to date outside of sex. If for whatever reason you were seeking a friends with benefits type of relationship, I can see him falling in love rather quickly. Maybe it happens more quickly than you think.

[sachikoeveraftercharm]

HELLO YTTD NATION. Might do a full ver of it, who knows

[spnshortcake]

Smutttttt post! ⚠️ MINORS DNI 18+ ⚠️

Request from my blurb follow party! Thanks @just-a-girl-who-wrytes for this request Can I request a smutty Deacon fic based on the prompts “your body was made for mine” and “you’re mine and I take care of what belongs to me.” ?! 😍 thank you! ❤️

a/n I don’t write smut often so I hope you enjoy!

Deacon and your relationship has always been great. From all the dates to everything you guys do in the bedroom. Tonight is one of those nights. Deacon just got off a long shift and a bad one at that. You have been worried watching the news hearing about the bomb that went off in the courthouse down town LA. Being a swats wife is got it’s ups and downs. But you wouldn’t change that for anything.

The lock on the door turned and opened as you see your husband come home and shut the door smiling at you. He has debris from the ash on his face and you run up to him. Kissing him. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“I’ve missed you” he smiles looking at you placing his hands on your butt carrying you to the couch. Laying you down gently.

“I’ve missed you more I have been watching the news.” You say pulling at his collar of his black tshirt pulling him down kissing him again. You always love having him touch you. His hands where rough but they always satisfied you.

“Yeah it was a rough shift but I’m just Thakful I get to see your beautiful face especially in my favorite red silky pajamas.” He smirks at you playing with your buttons on your pj shirt.

“But you like them more off though” you smirk up at him biting your lip. You have never been this brave in a relationship before with anyone else. But deacon just brings that out in you. Makes the marriage more fun.

“Oh baby you have no idea.” He takes his shirt off showing his beautiful muscled chest and you love watching his hands go all over your body.

He leans down and kisses you moving down your neck.

“Mmm that’s my favorite spot” you whisper already feeling a pool inbetween your thighs. He finds your ear and says “it’s not mine but I’ll get there” your body shivers at his comment. He always knows what to say to keep you wanting more. He stands up looking at your unbuckling his belt taking it off his pants and grabbing your hands putting them above your head and wrapping his belt around them restricting them from going anywhere. He looks down at you and starts slowly unbuttoning your top one by one. You wished he would just rip it off.

“Stop going so slow de.” You moan out trying to get your hands out from his belt. He chuckles.

“Babe you know they more you move the more slow I’ll go and you and I both know you need me in a certain spot.” You nod not even forming any words.

His hands make there way down your tummy and then your hips. Gliding your pj bottoms down your soft long legs that he loves so much he notices your wearing his favorite black lace panties that he got for y’all’s 3 year anniversary.

“Oh wow baby I’m gonna love taking these off.” He kisses your ankles and going up your thighs.

“God your body was made for mine, it just responds so well to everything I do” he licks his lips kissing your sweet spot and hears you moan he smirks looking up at you. “Im gonna take really good care of you tonight.”

He pushes your panties to the side and kisses your center.

“David stop teasing me , I just want you so bad” you moan out looking down at him.

He just knows where to go and what to do to make your body shake.

David is always such a sweet guy but in the bedroom it’s like his dark side awakens.

“Oh do you now. Where do you want me” his little smirk always kills you.

“David I need you inside of me right now don’t make me beg” you whine already feeling your body throb with need.

“Oh hey sweetheart I love hearing you beg for me.” He smirks as he pulls out his dick and puts it at your entrance.

“I love taking care of you baby.” He slams in without any warning and you moan out trying to get out the belt but it’s no use.

“De that feels so good!” You scream out as he goes at a erratic speed and putting his hands on both your hips holding you there making you take every single inch.

“Oh god baby you just mold to me such a good little girl” he starts rubbing your clit as he keeps up his speed and you feel the feeling in your belly tightening.

“David IM GONNA CUM. Don’t stop” you screech put not even caring if the neighbors can hear you guys.

“Oh baby I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

When he says that it just the icing on the cake and makes you go over the edge and you cum so hard.

“Oh I love how you feel clenching me as you cum baby girl.” He keeps getting sloppier snd you can feel his cum shoot all inside of you. He slows down and puts his forehead on yours and takes the belt off your hands and smiles at you still inside of you.

“That made my night so much better.” You giggle and say “that always make me feel better”

“I love you so much y/n” he says pulling out and giving you his shirt and you pull it over your body. He lifts you up bridal style taking you to you guys bedroom.

“Round two I told you I wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.” He uses his foot to shut the door behind y’all as he throws you on the bed as you giggle.

——————————————————————————-

SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME FORVER TO GET OUT BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!! I don’t write smut to often so sorry if it is not good! But I just see deacon doing all this 😂 😉😝🫠🥵

Love,

Elizabeth

[miicycle]

super upset that zhen gets to become dragon warrior. like why add her. we didnt need a new character before other than villains, but they all had references and the whole story was already written out when they made kung fu panda. at least make tigress or tai lung the next dragon warrior

either way actually why the FUCK is he passing the fucking title to someone?! thats not how it worked! he was prophecised! his journey is over! hes the dragon warrior, destined! He fought and won against Tai Lung and Kai (as well as found inner peace through shen) why the FUCK can he even pass the title on to someone else?! this shit aint real. im making tai lung help po whether dreamworks likes it or not

[daniel-la-racist]

tumblr pls stop showing me weird nsfw non-con silverrusso s3x scenarios ty im looking at kk and cobra kai fanart !!!