#bc how do you watch a child break every bone in his body and get magically healed just to do it all again the next day

[hella1975]

very interesting to me that the big three of the current hero gen in mha - shouto, midoriya and bakugo - are often portrayed as also being the closest in a lot of fics bc it's like. you've got shouto's two best friends as a boy with a volatile personality fuelled by his blind ambition and desperation to be the best, and a boy whose quirk destroys his body. like if you combined two of shouto's best friends you'd get touya but we're just not supposed to redeem him. okay

[mxvladdy]

I have a prompt idea! The Brothers reacting to an MC that can regenerate after they die. Someone stabbed them? The wound will close in a bit. Did they fall from a high place and their body shattered? It’s all good, they’re body’ll just snap everything back into place as they’re conscious. We’re they poisoned? They’ll treat it like a stomach bug and be fine the next day. Funny part is MC could tell them the worst ways they died during their childhood in a lighthearted way which makes things more disturbing, especially since demon threats against them won’t work.

Ok first time I read this prompt I had a good laugh bc all I could think about was an MC that made that little squeaking noise those rubber chickens make when they inflate every time they regenerated lmaoooo. Could you imagine the pavlovian response all the brothers get if they hear a squeak? Like Lucifer would be trying to sleep and Cerberus finds one of his old chew toys and the fear it brings is legendary.

TW: Death, Blood, Injuries

Lucifer

When you first tell him he has no idea if it was a crude joke or not. You are so blasé about something that should traumatize you. He hates how you snort at his every threat. What good is blackmail if you don’t go for it?

He does not believe you at first. Just another little human talking big trying to impress him. He would keep a keen eye on you too, making sure they have no reason to get even so much of a scrape on their knee. Believe you or not he doesn’t need this program to fail. Then Belphie happened. Seeing your lifeless body made so many things happen in his mind he felt physically ill. He hadn’t felt like crying so hard since Lilith…

And then you sit up and crack your spine, like you were waking up from a nap instead of getting up after being thrown from the second story.

He-is relieved, and terrified. Were humans supposed to do that? He doesn't remember reading this particular ability in his father’s schematics. He believes you now nonetheless.

But he still doesn’t let you just go getting hurt whenever you feel like it.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head firmly. He is unfazed by your cute little pout and huffing.

“Lotan is friendly!” You try again pushing the form back at him defiantly. Lucifer picks it up again against his better judgment and scoffs. Friendly, if Lotan is friendly then Cerberus was a saint. “Come on what’s the worst that can happen? I’m out of school for a day or two if things get dicey.” You plead leaning up and over his desk. Ugh. He rubs at his temple in annoyance.

“The fact that you think skipping a few days of school because you became fish food as a minor hindrance terrifies me.” He drolls but picks up his feathered quill irregardless. You squeal in delight and hug him fiercely, managing to pull a smile out of him. They grab the liability agreement and run out the door already shouting for Levi to hurry up before Lucifer changes his mind. He chuckles leaning back in his chair. Fine, if they are happy… let it be on their head if it severs. Wait- could they regenerate from that? “Shit.”

Mammon

He believes you. Not because he takes their word for it but the first night on duty as your caretaker you fall out of his balcony window.

One minute they are having a heated argument about his unwanted duties, him hovering over you while you lean up against the railing refusing to break eye contact. Next thing he knows the old stone gives and you both tumble.

He has wings and catches himself. You- not so much. He can still hear the sickening crunch of bone meeting stone when he lays awake at night. The first thing he worries about is how much trouble he would be in with Lucifer that he failed again. He's a blubbering mess over your body swearing he would do better if they would just get up. Whatever you want it’s theirs if you just open their eyes.

And of course, you do. He won’t admit to the scream that erupts from his mouth when you ask him to swear on that deal or they are going to Lucifer as soon as they can feel their legs. He agrees readily, glad his hide is saved for now.

When you two become closer he figures why not make some money off of this little quirk. Enter the troublesome duo of grifters.

You whimper, hamming it up for the terrified looking demon glazing between your broken leg and Mammon wiggling his ring heavy fingers at them. “Look what ya did to my human.” He tuts. “What, ya don’t look both ways when riding.” He kicks at the upended bike by his feet. The demon sputters swearing that they did and neither of them had been in the way.

“Mammon~” His human sniffles flashing him a teary eyed pout. To the other lesser demon it looked like a plea, but Mammon knew it was a warning that your leg would start mending soon.

“Who do you think is gonna pay for this?” He goes in for the kill waving his free arm down at his human’s prone form. “You want Lucifer or Diavolo ta hear about this? Ya know this human is special to us.” The demon blanches and shakes its head. Terrified it threw its wallet at the avatar of greed and bolted leaving their bike and bag behind. Waiting for the demon to be completely out of earshot Mammon turns with a dazzling smile. “Damn,” He whistles, helping his human back to their feet. Already the bone and skin had mended leaving only an ugly red stain on the fabric of their uniform. “I think you just moved up the ranks of my most favorite things. Gonna rival Goldie soon if this picks up...” He opens the wallet and pockets the handful of cash in it, tossing the worn fabric to the street floor.

“Hey.” Mammon looks down at you. You were now scowling eying his pant pocket. “Don’t forget your side of the bargain.” He chuckles raising his hands in defeat.

“Alright- Alright. One stupidly expensive ice cream coming up.” He can't hide his blush when you hug his arm close to your chest, excitedly leading him back to the main street.  

Leviathan

Oh like in that one anime???

But really, he is the first to take your word for it. Finds it kinda neat. Not that he is going to test it. Who would he have to play with if you were just yanking his chain?

He listens to absolutely spine chilling tales of your little “mishaps” as a child. But you brush off his concern. Don’t worry about it! Makes for great stories. To tell right?

Of course, when he sees it first hand he forgets for a moment that you would eventually feel better. He left his tank open one night to clean out some debris gunking up the water pump. Damn things get stalled so frequently now. He turns his back for a moment to get a tool and the next he smells human blood in the water!

He scoops you out of the water before whatever fiendish creatures he holds in his aquarium can take a bite and gets you to solid ground. He is panicking hardcore, he doesn’t feel a pulse. He sees that they smashed their head, blood pooling sluggishly down your temple. You must have slipped on the wet tank edge and hit their head.

Just when he is about to name another Henry in your honor you pop up spitting out whatever water that had gotten into their lungs. They flash him a knowing smirk at his red-rimmed eyes and joke that they have a killer headache.

Nurse Levi to the rescue!

Levi checks in on you again, leaning over the edge of his tank. “D-don’t you move a muscle!” He shouts down to you. Squinting he sees a hand emerging from the mound of pillows and blankets inside his tub-bed. you shoot him a quick thumbs up before turning your attention back to his giant flat screen. “You sure you don’t need Barbatos or some pain meds?” He frets. He was close to just giving up on the pump and coming to take care of his miraculously healed guest.

“Levi I’m fine! Not even sleepy.” Your muffled reply wafts up to him. You push down some of the blankets to give him a relaxed smile. “See not even a scar.” You show him the side of their head that had been cut. Sure enough, nothing was there but a smoothed patch of skin. It lessens some of his panic, but barely. He knew internal damage was still a thing to humans.

Finishing up quickly with the pump he slithers back down to your side sheepishly. He had apologized what felt like a thousand times, but he was ready to drop a couple thousand more if need be. His looming causes you to look up from the anime you were watching. The flashing blue and yellow lights illuminate their calm gaze. None of the panic he felt seemed to transfer to you. “Want to join me?” You pat at the covers. “Waters warm.” You chuckle at their own joke pulling the blue covers down and away to give him room to join them.

“I-if you’re sure.” He stammers wiping at his face to hide his flush. You nod, patting the empty side again. He joins you snuggling close, he runs a hand where a gruesome scar had been not even an hour again. You nuzzle in close. His slightly cool fingers felt great on your skin before turning back to the screen completely nonplussed.

What a weird human...

Satan

Much like Lucifer doesn’t believe you. He has never heard or read about humans being able to do that. Will not believe them and gets annoyed by the “fake” stories you kept insisting were real.

The fact that a single human has such a vividly morbid imagination fascinates him, but he won’t divulge in your little fantasy. There is only so much foolishness he can deal with.

He forgets about it after a while and you stop bringing it up. If he doesn’t believe you so be it, he’ll find out one day surely, you aren’t exactly the most careful with your body. When he does find out it about does him in.

He had warned them of climbing on his bookshelves. He doesn’t have them tethered down or stable. He doesn’t need them to be. His shelves would never even dare to topple on him. But this weak little human takes his room as a personal jungle gym, climbing up him and his things for a book. They could just ask but Devil’s forbid they did something halfway intelligent.

You hear him fretting through the fog coating your senses. His fingers shakily poking at your crushed abdomen and legs all bent akimbo clearing broken. “Don’t be dead-please don’t do this.” He hisses about ready to use magic to put you back together again. You pull your strength and grab his hand before he can interfere with your natural healing ability.

He starts, green eyes looking down relieved and amazed at you. “Don’t.” You croak, already feeling your lungs and rib cage healing. “I’m good.”  

“You’re good!” He shouts voice cracking in exasperation. “I’ve seen the aftermath of Beel’s feeding rampages that have looked better!” You snort pushing his hands away to rest up on your elbows. Eh- he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“I look like a chewed-up burger huh?” You joke laughing at his stunted and slightly disgusted look. “I’ll be ok, just help me up? My legs are always tingly after healing.” Wordlessly he follows your instructions amazed at how well you are handling all of this. Were you actually human? You stand on wobbly legs bending and popping your joints. You give yourself a quick check over “Tada!” You give him two very bloody thumbs ups once you see that you are back to normal. “It’s all good!”

He shakes his head bewildered. “I-if you say so.” Satan wrinkles his nose looking at the mess of your clothes and his room. “Go wash up. I’ll get you a new set of clothes and work on this mess.” You nod already heading to his slightly cleaning bathroom. His warm hand wraps around your wrist catching you mid stride. “Don’t tell anyone about this ok?” He pleads. If anyone knew that he had been so foolish, he would never live it down.

You nod miming zipping your lips. “Betcha believe me know huh?”

He rolls his eyes turning to the task at hand. “Don’t push your luck, or next time I’ll leave you under a shelf.”    

Asmodeus

Believes you. You have never lied before so why do it now over something so trivial. Humans die all the time and if you say you can't then ok. He asks tons of questions about how you found out about this.

He doesn't like the stories you tell but doesn't find it off-putting how easily you talk about it. He's been around the block with mortals and they cope in all sorts of ways.

He cuddles you and coos over every story you tell then shoots off hundreds of compliments about your complexion. It's amazing how well your skin holds up to all the foolish actions of your past.

Even though he trusts you and your stories he still is super careful with you. You are not going to get hurt on his watch, absolutely not! Will patch you up if you need it all while gripping about your foolishness.

But accidents happen, and even the most watchful demon trips up sometimes.

Asmo tuts over you rubbing at the potion burning away at your flesh. "I told you the maroon bottle love." You hiss as the antiseptic hits muscle.

"Maroon and burgundy look the same, bite me!" He clicks his tongue and bites off the argument brewing within him. How can you not see how different the two colors are. You grouch some more while he works on getting the rest of his potion off your cheek. You had just wanted to use one of his acne toner, the one that smelled like cucumber and rose. He was preoccupied with his eyeliner but told you to just grab it from his shelf. He had a lot of bottles and a lot of them were definitely not for human use. 

You unfortunately just happened to pick one of them. The one you nabbed was a toner built for his stronger skin. It ate away at your cheeks and flesh of your palm on contact. It's burning and tingling making you yelp in surprise. Luckily for you, Asmo acted fast coming up from behind and knocking the toner-soaked cotton pad from your reddening fingers. He curses at you the whole way to his bathroom. Done with your right cheek and hand he nods in approval, seeing your flesh already knitting back together. "At least you have lovely bone structure. Ahhh~ I'm jealous!" He pokes a nail at the exposed bone of your cheekbone. The mending muscles and nerves almost growing over his nail before he could pull away. You quirk a brow.

"Want them? I'm pretty sure I could regrow my jawline before anybody would notice. " You shrug taking the washcloth from him to dap at your left cheek. Asmo laughs, it was a ridiculously tempting offer after all.

"Could you?" He taps at his own chin in thought. You glance back at him and sits on the toilet. In theory, you probably could. Hadn't happened...yet.  

"Ye- just give me a heads up first? And maybe some good booze to knock me out." You say only half-joking. Asmo nods eagerly, twirling a lock of soft tawny hair. He might take you up on the offer.  

Beelzebub

He doesn't want to know and he never wants to find out. He just likes you too much to see you get hurt :(. It gets to the point where you cannot bring any past stories of incidents (no matter how funny you think they are). If a story comes out be prepared to be carried everywhere by this gentle giant. If you won't cease your foolishness then he will.

Though he probably should have heard a few of the stories. Mostly the ones about poisons and inedible things you use to eat. A lot of his world revolves around food and he loves to share it with you.

He never heard you complain about the foods he had you try with him. It wasn't until Simeon and Luke tagged along did he learn the awful truth that he had been poisoning you almost every time you two went out.  

Takes him forever to get out of his head about it. You are clearly fine and never brought it up because you just loved spending time bonding with him.

You find him in the ally behind the restaurant. His massive form curled in on itself from where he sat. "Why didn't you tell me?" He rumbles hearing you approach to stand next to him. "I could have killed you." You sit squat next to him resting your arms on your knees.

"I mean...if we are keeping count it would be dead about eight times over by this point." You meant it to be funny but he groans in anguish pulling at his hair. You grab his fists and pry them from his scalp. "Hey! Hey!" You pat his knuckles, eyes filled with concern. "I'm still here right, still kicking and eating all these awesome foods, don't worry. Please?"  You can tell your words do not calm him but he doesn't pull from your grasp either. "If you are curious, all the foods that would have done me dirty just gave me some bad cramps and gas for the evening. Nothing a tum and hot tea couldn't fix." You fill the air with useless chatter, all while stroking his knuckles.

You really wish that Luke hadn't said anything. Simeon had read the room, his neat brown brows raising in astonishment as you sank into the meal Beel bought for you. But he otherwise stayed silent tucking into his own meal without a fuss. You couldn't completely blame Luke though. He was young and just looking out for you. Though, he-well- both of you could have handled it better. With him screaming and you screaming, it was a recipe for disaster.

Beel rises a few minutes later rubbing at his burning eyes. "Are you sure you are ok?" He checks in with you once more. You nod perking up as you see him grunt in acceptance. "Just let me know next time you can't eat something."

"But it tastes good!" You pout. He frowns not budging from his spot until he sees you sigh in defeat and agree. No more purposely poisoning yourself just for munchies. "Fine-but you are just saying that to get extra portions."  

Belphegor

He finds out when he kills your dumbass for believing him. It totally harshed his vibe.

Here he was getting an amazing monologue, reveling in his eldest's brothers' anguish and look of anger from the prince. He was ready to give his final performance and hopefully wipe the floor with that red-headed bastard plans to "commingle"

He tossed your "lifeless" body from him, taking a sick amount of pleasure in the way your body flopped down the stairs. He notices how the other brothers seem completely unfazed by your corpse at their feet.

Huh? Perhaps they didn't understand the actions he did. Or maybe they truly have given into the demons they had become. He stops his tirade only when he watches Asmo bend down and poke at your cheek. He didn't look sad, just merely annoyed. Like you were taking too long to get up.

But that is impossible. You would never get up again... 

Mammon rolls his eyes at his youngest brother's actions. Honestly, he loved the little edge lord, but this was ridiculous. He had a racket to go check on. His hand drifts down slowly to his pocket. If he just angled it right he could probably check his phone without looking rude. He makes eye contact with Satan and jerks his head exasperatedly at Lucifer and Belphegor going at it. The blonde shakes his head and shrugs. Slowly he inches closer so Mammon can go on his phone without getting caught. Covering for Mammon Satan looks around the room feigning interest.

Beelzebub and Leviathan seemed mildly more attentive to what was going on than him. The latter of the two eating it up like an arch in an anime, while the former was trying desperately to placate his twin. Asmodeus on the other hand was having none of this. He plops down next to your body turning your head to face him. He checks you over quietly ignoring the storm exploding out of his elder brother and the rest of the gang. "Honestly darling," He strokes the bridge of your nose, feeling the bone and cartilage shifting back into place beneath his finger. "is this a good time to ask if I can have your jawline?" He sees the corner of your lips twitch.  He leans in and whispers in your ear. "How long are you going to play dead?"

"Am I boring you, brother?" Asmo glances up from his position over your head. Belphegor looks down at his face apoplectic with rage at being ignored. "And I see you on your phone Mammon!"

"Shove it! I got shit to do!"

Asmo gets to his feet dusting off his pants and ruffles. He shrugs up at Belphie who was doing a great interpretation of Lucifer when angry. He was so much like Lucifer it was scary sometimes. "Sorry honey! Just check on my bestie."

Belphie snorts making his way down to the first floor. "Just checking I killed-"

You pop up grunting loudly as your spine reconnects. "Help your bestie up?" You raise a hand for Asmo who happily takes it. You turn your back to a dumbfounded Belphie and Lucifer, both not understanding what just happened.

"About time." Mammon sighs pocketing his phone. "I got some idiots we can swindle out of some grimm."

"Oi!" Satan butts in cutting Mammon off. "You had your turn! I have some spells they said they would help me test out."

You grin, not fighting it as the two tug at you like a toy between toddlers.

"Enough!" The two jump away from you at Lucifer's roar. You squeak in surprise when a firm leather-gloved hand spins you around so you could stand face to face with a fully shifted Lucifer. "You!" He runs his hands over you in disbelief. "How..." Your first conversation with him comes back to mind.

I can't die so try to threaten me with something else next time K?

"Would someone tell me WHAT is going on and why they are still breathing!" Belphie pushes through to you and Lucifer.

Beel grabs him up before he could get his claws into you again, stroking his dark hair like you would an angry cat. "It's a long story..."

[perhapsthanatos]

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[ssvgawara]

Haikyuu boys and some oddly specific crime they’d commit

a/n: I come back and the first thing I write is a shitpost!! enjoy </3 tw for drugs, murder, alcohol and general crime committing xoxo

Karasuno

Daichi- he’s a cop sorry that’s all there is to it man

Suga- Suga has multiple charges of 1st-degree murder against him but they can’t seem to find his identity so he continues committing murder and will continue until he gets caught or ends up murdering enough people to be put in a position of power

Asahi- everyone is probably like “Oh Asahi is innocent” NO. He has learned that his slightly scary face will let him get away with a lot, he is buying alcohol illegally because he looks old enough to, and he’s buying so much other shit and just getting away with it

Nishinoya- This man gives fucking pimp vibes I can just see him in the big leopard print fur coat with a pretty girl in his lap and he calls himself big poppa but no one else will

Tanaka- Drug dealer vibes, probably runs an entire fucking drug ring with his sister and not just a Lil weed these mfkas have the hard shit too like you could probably buy meth from them, he’s not using it but it’s good business

Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita- They literally rob a bank they have an entire scheme and get away with multiple bank robberies and this goes on for MONTHS

Kageyama- We know he’s volleyball smart but otherwise he’s so mfing stupid and I love him for it but he is a chronic shoplifter. Just picks something up and takes it, has walked out of a store without paying for an entire bed set once and got away with it somehow so idk props to him

Hinata- He is the little guy in any heist situation, he fits anywhere so he can sneak in and out the best, he gave himself the stupid ass code name tiny giant but everyone goes with it because somehow he is the best

Tsukishima- armed robbery, but he doesn’t have a gun just a knife like he’s tall and as an attitude, a knife will get him whatever he needs he doesn’t need the gun

Yamaguchi- He runs a catfishing scheme where he pretends to be a naive girl, scams old men out of their money, and then ghosts them and I think it’s what he deserves let him carry on especially because no one would believe it’s him. Also not really like a crime crime but still a crime in a way

Kiyoko- She kills men and I know it, Queen Kiyoko ending the patriarchy one shitty man at a time like she only kills men who deserve it bc some have rights.

Yachi- She’s too anxious to commit an in-person crime so she does a lot of cybercrime, hacking government databases and releasing info to the people, truly the anonymous we deserve

Saeko- She’s running that drug ring with Tanaka, and she loves it because there’s a thrill to it even though yknow she’s dealing literal meth but like its fine plus she loves rocking people’s shit when they get too handsy, which bring me to my next point underground MMA Saeko, like the illegal one with no rules yeah <3

Ukai- this man probably sells all kinda shit to minors that he shouldn’t he is so unbothered a 7-year-old could probably walk in ask for a pack of camels and get them and leave before he noticed what was going on.

Takeda- Did y’all see how scared Hinata was when Takeda gave him that lecture? This dude could kidnap someone and scare them into giving all the information he needed, a legend truly

Aoba Johsai

Oikawa- took steroids one time. And of course in sports, that’s not allowed. But he only did it once and regretted it for months afterward. Never told anyone and was just relieved he didn’t have to piss in a cup and have someone find out.

Matsukawa- Without hesitation, I know this man takes dead people’s bones and sells them on the internet. Has dubbed himself the bone man and he feels so much power when someone buys a femur or sumn. It’s kinda funny honestly he has a hoard of bones to sell, his fave is the pelvis.

Hanamaki- He’s in between jobs because he stole money from his last job, like he said he was sorry he just needed a little extra for gas but was sad to find out that’s a literal crime and he was laundering money.

Iwaizumi- he’s a street racer, like the fast and furious style and it’s so sexy of him like late-night races ugh to be in an expensive fast car with him where he has one hand on my thigh okay that’s enough of that.

Kunimi- Look me in the eye and tell me he does not do drugs. He does and if you don’t believe me you are wrong and I will fight you on this one. 

Kyotani- If there is a crime he will commit it for fun. Like he will do it with no hesitation. He has a record longer than twilight and I’m not sure how he is not in prison actually nvm he escaped and is  a wanted criminal lol

Shiritorizawa

Ushijima- Assault, he just reeks of getting into bar fights when he’s absolutely wasted. Like he most likely didn’t start it but he will be finishing it

Tendou- grave robbing, he just goes into the cemetery picked the oldest plots, and gets to digging. Has made thousands on dead people jewelry and probably won’t get caught, like besides the groundskeeper there’s no security he will never stop.

Semi- he breaks copyright laws on the daily. He’s sampling music in his all the time but he’s doing it so sneakily it’s fine its what deserves stream his band on Spotify right now,

Shirabu- His bangs are criminal enough. No, but he has stolen drugs from the hospital before he just wanted to try the Xanax, and yeah he could just write himself a prescription for it nut like it’s so easy to just go get some and no report it so that’s what he did.

Goshiki- y’all want me to say arson don’t you?? Fine. He commits arson multiple times and kills 7 people with fire before getting arrested and he doesn’t even feel bad so in prison he probably fucking runs a gang he is crazy.

Nekoma

Kuroo- he is a capitalist and class traitor and that’s crime enough I don’t care is he’s attractive or rich, He commits crimes daily by just existing but I still love him anyway.

Kai- Could not commit a crime he just wants to garden and live his life. Jk there’s at minimum one body in that garden let him kill a man he deserves it just let him have one dead body

Yaku- he keyed someone’s car once just because they pissed him off. Was it kuroo? Yes. But that’s fine because he also keyed Lev’s car but blamed lev for keying kuroo’s and Kuroo for keying Lev’s. He just wants to watch the world burn.

Kenma- cyberbullying but man he is mean. Like no bars held we will dig into every insecurity he can and that shit hurts and he doesn’t even feel bad about it he will just be as mean as he can if you’re not careful

Lev- his crime is being tall and dumb also doesn’t understand the economy and prints counterfeit money because why can’t we print more money? The government should get on that.

Inuoka- He released all the animals from a zoo, like snuck in one night and just let them all free, I’m surprised the tiger didn’t eat him but hey the animals are free, there’s still some missing uh oh he’s very proud of himself for it. After the rush, he starts sneaking into shelters and freeing all the dogs and cats

Yamamoto and Fukunaga- Have egged a house before, it was Kuroo’s he deserves all this bullying and you can’t stop me.

Date Tech

Aone- Criminal Conspiracy, sure he had an entire foolproof plan to get away with the perfect crime but someone found out, and now his plans are ruined, damn </3 and no one ever suspects the quiet guy either.

Futakuchi- Having a prostitute, he just wanted some company like mans is lonely so he paid a girl to just spend a Lil time with him it’s all good.

Fukurodani

Bokuto- I know we all haha funny laugh at tax evader bokuto and sure maybe he evades his taxes but he’s also committed vehicular manslaughter, he cannot drive and has killed someone with his car maybe even multiple someones but he always drives off in a panic because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Akaashi- Hasn’t actively committed a crime but has been an accomplice in every vehicular manslaughter Bokuto has committed why the fuck does he keep letting bokuto drive? He really needs to stop that.

Konoha- A master scammer he is so convincing everyone gives him money even if they’re a little sus because he’s just that good each scheme is so convincing.

Inarizaki

Kita- He grows weed, you can’t tell me those rice fields are just for rice he’s got all this space he is growing marijuana and selling it, let him do it I want him to be my plug.

Atsumu- "What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier."

Osamu- resisting arrest. He just said no and ran. Granted he shouldn’t have punched the cop in the first place to have to be arrested but like that’s not the point here.

Aran- accidental child abandonment, like he just forgot he was babysitting and left the kid alone for like a day. He felt terrible but he still forgot the kid and now is fearful of parenthood

Suna- owns an illegal weapon, like he just never registered it and keeps it around and would use it if needed Suna please just point the weapon at me maybe

Others

Terushima- Graffiti, he loves painting on the walls of buildings and tagging them, has so much spraypaint and his day isn’t complete if he doesn’t tag at least one building or train car.

Daishou- Public intoxication- he got a little too fucked up and stripped on the street he will forever have to live with everyone knowing he has an ass tattoo like damn bruh

Sakusa- Perjury he simply wanted to get out of court so he said some shit so he could leave granted he lied under oath but whatever, did they ever find out? No, so he’s fine and he’d do it again if it meant he could leave faster. Like sure he was a witness to a murder but bruh he pretends he does not see.

Hoshihumi- driving without a license he simply thought you didn’t need one because why do you need a piece of plastic to say you can drive a car like??? Just know how to drive it.

[angelicichor]

Some N//SF//W headcanons for some of my favourite slashers bc I can't sleep:

Michael Myers (RZ) :

• It's no surprise that he is rougher in bed, dominating is what he does and it comes to him easily, with that huge body of his

• Yet there's always some gentleness to his movements, an awareness that you're weaker than him and he needs to be careful with you, because even if the idea of you breaking at his touch is arousing, the fear of losing someone precious to him (again) keeps him focused.

• His fingers are trained both in craft and destruction, so I can say that him fingering you? A dream come true. He's watching you every time, a coy smile on his face, learning from your reactions as you melt in his touch. And every time you come just a bit quicker.

• If you really want to be D E S T R O Y E D - bite him. Literally. Don't draw blood though because he is going to probably almost kill you for that. But biting? Oh boy. Get ready to be set in fucking place. He's the monster here, he hurts you, not the other way around and he'll make sure you remember that.

• He'll make it a point not to use his knife though, he wants to show you HIS own power, so you fear him, not the damned weapon. He switches them out like toys anyways.

• I you go down that route prepare for pain. And I mean it. That man killed enough people to know where to press for your bones and muscles to scream under his touch, he'll dig his thumbs into your jaw as he grinds against you, choke you just with his knee on your chest when he's getting his dick hard, shove his hand down your throat, making you gag or choke, smilling the whole time, watching your tears form. You started this so see it through, he has MANY ideas on how to make you crumble.

• And trust me? You'll love it.

• Now the most surprising part? After he'd come and you're a panicked mess on the bed, half aware of everything around you, you'd feel your body lift slightly, then something warm envelop you.

• That's Michael, lifting you up, pulling you close to him and lulling you in his arms, using his raspy voice to calm you down, to tell you you're safe now and there will be no more pain... Until next time, that is.

Thomas Hewitt:

• Oh, Tommy's a kind giant, alright. Had his fair share of practice in careful touch making his masks, but there's some of that butcher roughness in there too, so expect his fingering to be a bit more... Insensitive.

• He'll be too absorbed with looking at your adorable expression to realize he's being a bit too rough, too mesmerized by the way you pull his hair and moan to see that his pace is too quick. If you want a slower and calmer ride, take the lead, whisper his name and pull his gaze a bit higher, to your eyes, let him absorb your beauty and use that to guide his movements.

• He loves you too much to resist you if you want to call the shots for a night, but just this once, okay? He ain't a bottom, Charlie taught him 'better' than that.

• Don't tease the boy too much though, because he ain't afraid to push you over the table and give you a solid ass slapping session. In this house discipline is all, and you're definietly lacking in it if you think you can grind against him like that and not take responsibility.

• But oh is it delightful to hear this man's aroused laugh when you beg for forgiveness, his firm hand decisively slapping you muscle, just in the right spot to make you squirm, leaving the flesh reddened for more than a day and you unable to sit properly.

• And just when you think he's done and you're off the hook he hauls your ass down into his basement on his shoulder and lies you down on a still bloodied table, pressing against your heat with his erection, chuckling lowly at your gasp as you feel just how hard he is.

• You don't have to wait long for him to slam into you, filling you to the brim, bit of pre-cum on his tip. He's always such a delicious fit.

• Still, while he's not slow in his movements he ain't brutal like Mikey either. It'd rather say it depends on whether he wants to make you both feel good or make you suffer just a bit longer.

• If there's blood involved though, he ain't gonna be waiting for nothing, it does something to him, even if it's not yours, he just adores that metallic smell, it makes him so light headed. He loves painting on your body with it too, but only once he realizes you ain't scared of a bit of gore. If you're squeamish he'd never even consider bringing you into the basement.

• In all honestly if you're into blood play, just pass him a knife and give him the sweetest smile you can, he'll catch on, don't worry. He's a damn professional too, so don't worry about fainting form blood loss, he got you covered.

• But his biggest secret is... He's a slut for rock and metal music. Greet him with Slipknot or Korn playing in your bedroom in the evening and he'll quickly be over you, eating you alive with his gaze, those hungry, hungry eyes.

• He ain't a dancer but let me tell you, he'll time his thrusts perfectly to the song you're playing, it's uneven, seemingly chaotic, rough, then soft, heated all the way through and you're loosing yourself to it, just as he is.

• Don't call him an animal, but he's definietly a beast then, clawing at your skin as he goes deeper, growling into your ear, one hand choking you into obedience and other bruising your hip in his obsessive grip.

• Even through the loud music you can hear and feel his heartbeat against your back. He wants you close, wants to use his strength to make you come and feel every single vibration of your body as you do.

•Make sure to scream if he bites you, remind him to control his instincts just a little bit, or moan, he'll stop his biting to laugh quietly and nuzzle into your neck.

• How?? THE FUCK??? CAN HE GO FOR SO LONG?!? You're already trembling under him, unable to move a muscle and he's still pounding into you mercilessly, enjoying the dominating force he has over your comparably tiny body. Each time your insides clench against him he pushes back, assuring that it welcomes him back.

• And somehow he manages to finish just as Vermilion ends. You are unsure whether this is just dumb luck, or if he really has so much self-restraint to hold it in for so long.

• I hope you have a towel or a handkerchief at hand because when he comes he comes loads, especially after longer sessions.

• He'd love for you to keep it inside though, our Tommy has a mayor breeding kink and even if you can't or won't give him children, he loves, LOVES seeing your trembling, defeated body filled with his cum.

• Oh and PLEASE do be vocal when he fucks you, it keeps him going. You're so cute when you call his name too...

Brahms Heelshire:

• Ah yes, the stinky wall boy. He actually showers, believe it or not, just not too often. It's hard to believe but it's true, though running and climbing through walls will get you dirty, there ain't no getting around that.

• Brahmsy doesn't really enjoy fingering, not you, not himself, he's more of an oral guy, more of a receiver, obviously, he's a brat after all, but when he gives, he gives it all and his tounge is amazing. Praise him and he'll give you the best orgasm you ever had with just his mouth.

• Most of the time it's hard to remember Brahms is a grown man, well, aside from the visual reminder that is. He is always so obedient and loves to follow his schedule, it's rare for him to actually act how his testosterone is telling him to. He's a good boy, you can be sure of that, especially when he's using his child voice.

• But there are days when his cover gets blown and you can tell immidietly, especially from his smell, sweet and warm, inviting you closer. It's almost as if he was in heat, keeping close, way past your personal space, grabbing you whenever he can, squeezing tightly at your hips, your chest, pulling your hands up to his face to give you soft, porcelain kisses.

• Then at some point the mask goes away, letting you stare in awe at his sly smile, his hooded eyes, lightly squinted to fit his expression, and a small lick of his lips lets you know that tonight you're his.

• Those nights are long and passionate, as each thrust tells you how much he adores you, your voice, your body, your you. His childish voice goes away so that the man of the house can speak and it makes you shiver as he calls your name, giving you small 'I love yous' and praising how good you feel, calling you his, only his.

• And to your utter surprise he makes sure that this night you come first, that you're satisfied before him, letting his bratty demeanor rot somewhere in a corner just for today, so he can treat you with the love and care you deserve for doing the same to him every single day.

• You're his darling and he makes sure to let you know that.

• Though those nights are very special to you, sometimes it goes a bit wilder.

• Sometimes the existence of a bed is forgotten and he swoops in from one of the hidden entrances and pulls you into the wall, mask already missing, so he can bite into your neck, make you scream in surprise, massaging your crotch messily, hastily, so he can get what he wants so much quicker and without you complaining.

• He takes you against the wooden walls, your moaning voice echoing through the skeleton of the house, hitting you right back and bringing that sweet blush back to your face.

• Don't try to order him around, "pretty please". He needs you, not your complaining right now. You can scold him later, he'll take it willingly, but in this moment he needs to let go, loose himself in you, chase his own release before yours so he can calm this heat down.

• Then just as you can feel him getting close he'll pull out and finish with his own hand outside of you like a proper gentleman. Except he comes on your thighs, so now those pants you were wearing? Yeah, those need washing.

• And if you're understanding to him after those 'accidents' you might expect a late night visitor, willing to make amends and give you something he forgot to give you earlier, with his lovely, lovely tounge and long, slim fingers. Make yourself comfortable, he's going to make sure you don't regret being patient.

• Also Brahmsy is a big fan of tying you up once you introduce him to the concept. Try it, he's very creative.

Hope you enjoy me being thirsty on main, may make part 2 if I'm feeling sleepless again or if anyone wants me to but haha I ain't a writer ( or at least not a good one, I usually write for myself but that shit ain't good... )

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Body on Fire

theichabbieclub asked:

Can u do the scene where Geralt yells at Jaskier. But replace Jaskier with reader. Later that day, He's worried because they're quiet. He thinks it's bc he yelled at them but it was because they have heat exhaustion. He is so caught up into his thoughts that reader is able to sneak off. He finds them sitting on the ledge of a bridge. He talks them down, and apologizes. He then realizes that they have heat exhaustion and they lose consciousness and he cools them off, apologizing when they wake up

A/N: So, sorry in advance but I didn’t totally follow this request. I still hope it satisfies you!

Geralt x Reader 

Warnings: angst, heat exhaustion, almost drowning, injury, fluff 

“Why is it that whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it’s you, shoveling it?” He was yelling before you knew what was going on. You didn’t even know why he was mad, but he was pointing the finger at you for… whatever it was. “The Child Surprise, the djinn, all of it!” Now you were really confused, you hadn’t had anything to do with that. You were there of course but you hadn’t done anything of consequence. You were going to ask him what he meant, what was wrong, how you could help, but he never let you. “If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

It was like a knife, cold and precise. You stumbled a little and nodded, tears building in your eyes. You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know anything it seemed.

“I’ll go wait by the horses,” you whispered, not sure if you were still welcome there. You knew he was just angry, at whatever had gone wrong. You knew that, he had a problem, saying whatever he wanted to and being forced to apologize for it later. You had already forgiven, like you had every time before when the words slipped from his lips that were harsher than they should have been. That didn’t take away the feeling in your head though. That had been there long before he had told you to fuck off. That’s why you had shown up for the verbal beating in the first place, to ask for help. To figure out why the world seemed to spin with every step and his words echoed around like thick mirages. Everything seemed so heavy you couldn’t even manage being hurt, the weight too much to bear. You could barely hold your sword let alone a grudge.

‘Drink something’ is what Jaskier would say if he were here. That was his answer to every ailment, and for the most part it seemed to do the trick. It was all in what you drank though, and you were sure the ale wouldn’t be very helpful.

Woozy fingers rummaged through your packs, searching for water. Your eyes burned as saltwater filled them, though you weren’t sure if that was the tears or the sweat gathering on your forehead. The nerves in your fingers felt for anything cool, taking over for your sight, but there was none to be found. Not a single drop of water in the entirety of your rations, only ale and bread that was dryer than you felt.

Geralt eventually joined you and silently climbed atop Roach and took off, not even pausing to glance in your direction. You would have shouted at him if you’d been able, but your stomach churned when you opened your mouth and you decided it was best if you kept your mouth closed.

It was miraculous you were able to get on your horse at all. By the time you had been able to the mount the steed you felt exhausted, muscles and bones aching alike. Every time the horse’s hooves hit the ground you let out a soft groan, praying for a smoother ride. Praying for the horse to sprout wings and let the cool air wash over you, or throw you into a river, whichever destiny deemed fit.

The sun was laughing at you, heavy rays beating into your skin as you urged your horse to catch up with the angry Witcher. Even when you stopped beneath the shade of the tree and slid from your horse, the sun still seemed to creep through the branches and emblazon itself across your skin.

He was talking to you. You could see his lips moving and hear the bass in his voice reverberating against your skull.

“I’m going for a walk,” you announced, or hoped you announced. As you left you bumped against Geralt and felt the world tip. He must have said something, you swore you heard it, but then he wanted you gone. Maybe it was a goodbye.

You walked through the woods, slowly pulling off the extra layers of clothing. The lowest layers refused, stuck to you like starfish against slick stones. They wouldn’t leave and you were so hot they were melting into your skin. You could hear a river, cool and fast rushing against the earth that threatened to overtake it. It filled your every sense and as you swayed, searching for the sound of relief that beckoned you.

Something caught your foot and you fell, crashing to the rotted, wet wood of the ground. And then there it was, rushing beneath you was the river, thrashing and beckoning you like a mistreated lover. Stretching your hand over the edge of what you suspected was a bridge you could feel the spray of water against your fingertips. The relief was a drug and you wasted no time in pulling yourself to the edge, reaching out for the water.

A voice interrupted the water, it called to you but you couldn’t bare to lift your head and settled for plunging into the rocky water.

Geralt wanted to apologize so badly. The moment he had said it he had felt bad, and it hadn’t gotten any better when she pushed past him, muttering she was going to take a walk he knew he couldn’t let her keep thinking he actually meant anything he had said to her. As he searched for her, he found a trail of her clothing scattered amongst the leaves.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, gathering the clothing as he went. He could hear the main river in the distance, but he prayed that she hadn’t attempted to cross. He pushed through the bushes and a silent scream left his lips as he watched her plummet from the bridge. He wasted no time diving in after her, ignoring everything he had ever been taught about the river. It pulled him away and he struggled to gain control, fighting through the surging waters to find Y/N. Water filled his mouth when he pulled above the surface to call her name and a boulder lingering beneath the surface smashed into his shoulder. He grunted and pulled himself above the surface again, his strength waning as the water tossed him around with ease. This time he caught sight of a hand clinging to a rock, fingers slipping down the smooth stone. He pushed forward, pulling through the water before she slipped away again.

Something below the surface cut through his torso and a roar of pain filled his mouth with water once again, but his hand wrapped around yours nonetheless and you both tumbled into the water. Hands wrapped around your waist and he kicked you both to the bank. Coughing and sputtering he checked for a pulse, shaking fingers pressing to your throat in desperation. As he searched, panic began to well up in his throat.

He had killed you. Oh dear god, he had killed you. The last things he ever said to you was that he wished you were gone, and now you were. Sobs bubbled inside him and he could barely breath as he clutched your shoulders, breaking as you lay lifeless before him.

Until… there it was, soft but pattering furiously. He could have cried, you were alive, you were still in his arms.

But your skin burned him. You should’ve shivering but instead every inch of you was on fire.

“Y/N, Y/N, wake up. You have to tell me what’s wrong with you,” he whispered, shaking you furiously. With a soft cough you turned over and vomited up the water you had swallowed in your exhaustion induced swim. He patted your back gently, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he cried, but you had no interest in his apology, the blood staining his shirt was of much higher concern to you.

“Geralt, you’re bleeding,” you gasped, reaching to put pressure on the wound, but he pushed you away.

“No listen, that’s not important. I’m sorry, I drove you to try and kill yourself,” he gasped, and you shook your head, ripping off a ball of fabric to control the bleeding. “What are you doing? Stop helping me, I almost killed you.”

“Geralt!” you snapped and he glanced at you, heavy hearted, “I did not jump into that river because of what you said to me. I know you. I know you didn’t mean it. I was hot, I’m still so fucking hot.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, Geralt, I was delusional. I had no idea what was going on. It was an accident, and you saved me, so if you want me to say it, You’re forgiven. You’ve earned it.” He had finally let you bandage his wound, the shock forcing the fight out of him.

“I am sorry.”

“I know, but please, let’s just rest.” You could tell he wanted to argue, to continue begging for forgiveness, but you weren’t having it. “Please.”

“Okay,” he conceded and then, injury and all, he carried you back to camp, laying you among the shade, and insisted that never again would you try something so incredibly stupid. You assured him you wouldn’t and let your eyes close while a cool breeze washed over you, taming the fire you had tried to extinguish.

[nessianthrowaway]

ACOSF 78.5

Wrote a chapter that i felt was missing, plz convey ur thoughts  plagiarized the sex scene bc that felt uncomfy to write lol

 Hours later, once Feyre and Nyx were sound asleep and Rhys had some color return to his cheeks, Nesta and Cassian flew back to the house. The new family was under vigilant watch by Mor and Elain, the latter who had refused to let Madja leave without the finest bouquet made from the rarest plants in the river house garden.

Mor had winnowed Gwyn and Emerie back to the library – Emerie had no desire to return to Windhaven just yet, especially when her home had been torn apart both by their Illyrian kidnappers and later, by Cassian’s utter panic. Nesta was not quite ready to part with her sisters-in-arms just yet, but knew they all desperately needed a bath and a warm meal.

Alone in the sky, Nesta rested her head against Cassian’s shoulder. She savored his scent, taking deep, heady breaths of him as they flew under the twinkling stars in the sky. She savored the feel of his strong heartbeat alongside the steady beat of his wings. She pressed a kiss to his jaw and idly traced the veins of his neck. She had missed this feeling desperately over the past week. And for a few terrifying moments on the slopes of Ramiel, she thought would never be in his arms again; the though threatened to set free the tears she hasn’t yet shed. Cassian must have sensed the direction her thoughts had headed in and only clutched her tighter to him.

Cassian flew them higher and higher, and with each beat of his wings, Nesta allowed the bone-tired weariness to creep in. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate a full meal or got a full night’s rest. She ached to be reunited with her bed or be reacquainted with the House’s culinary creations.  

A few wingbeats later, Cassian arrived at the landing of the House. He gently lowered Nesta down to her feet, but as soon as her legs touched the ground they threatened to buckle. He wordlessly lifted her back up and carried her past the threshold of their home.

“Welcome home,” he whispered against her ear.

Nesta shuddered; her home, her friend. In response, the house brushed a calming wind against her forehead, and Nesta could smell of roast beef (or was it a steak?) wafting from her room and hear a trickle of water coming from the adjoining bath. As if the house knew exactly what she needed; an old nursemaid indeed.

Cassian carried her down to her room and cautiously set her down. Her knees wobbled but she remained upright. They both silently took in their surroundings and started; in the corner of the room stood a spiral staircase, a staircase connecting her room and Cassian’s above her.

Cassian chuckled, “Guess someone has been doing some redecorating while we’ve been away.” 

“I guess so,” Nesta mused. To the House she said, “Thank you.” Nesta could’ve sworn the air around her bowed in response.

“What should we do with my room upstairs – we can turn it into an indoor training ring. Or an auxiliary library. Or into a giant closet. The opportunities are endless,” Cassian grinned. 

Nesta blinked away the tears threatening to let loose. It was so silly – so silly to be brought to tears by something this mundane. But to have options, to have the ability to plan for the future. The future with him. This was something she would never again take for granted.

“We can do whatever we want.” She said in response. She took in a deep breath. “But right now, I think I really want a bath.” 

Cassian nodded. “I can’t say I like the scent of you in another male’s clothes. I’m looking forward to using this outfit as kindling.” 

Nesta snorted, and slowly, painfully walked into the bath chamber towards the already drawn bath. The enticing scents of lavender and lilacs drifted towards her; but she found herself too exhausted to peel off her clothes, oversized though they were. Cassian silently entered behind her and gently took off the stolen, stinking clothing. He lifted her naked body into the bath and Nesta groaned at the first touch of warm water against her aching body.

The water didn’t sting against her injuries as it should have; taking a quick glance at the bottles lined up next to her told Nesta that the House had mixed a healing salve into the water. Nesta couldn’t be more grateful.

As soon as she was settled in the bath, a tray of roast beef and vegetables appeared in front of her, resting across the tub. Next to the main course was the most beautiful slice of chocolate cake Nesta had ever seen. The sight of the steaming meat and shining dessert had Nesta ready to break down in tears again.

“Looks good enough to eat.” Cassian said, a touch too innocently. Nesta smiled up at him.

“Do you want to get in?” She asked him, echoing the question from so many months before.

The amber in his eyes darkened, his eyes scanning over her body like a brand. His gaze lingered on a cut on her shoulder; Cassian sucked in a breath, and schooled his face into neutrality. Courtier indeed. His response was the same now as it was then, and a softer type of pain slashed across his eyes, “You’re hurt.” 

“That didn’t stop you before.”

Cassian growled, low and heady in his throat, and Nesta’s blood sang in response.

Cassian pointed towards the tray of food. “Alright. Get started on your dinner. I’m going to go dispose of these godsforsaken clothes and be right back.” Cassian turned and picked up the pile of torn and dirty clothes and strode out of the bathroom.

Nesta’s tired and aching body thrummed in anticipation, creating a strange combination of exhaustion and eagerness. She turned her attention towards her food, and began to eat, counting down the seconds until her mate returned. 

*

Cassian hadn’t been gone more than four minutes when he returned to the bath. He laughed softly at his view: Nesta dozing off, in front of her a half-eaten plate of roast beef and a second plate, completely empty, where not a single crumb of chocolate cake remained. Nesta’s mouth was lined with her dessert; he had never known his mate to be an ill-mannered eater, but the residue from her meal showed him how starved she must have been.

Mate. His mate. He leaned down and helped himself to the remaining beef and vegetables on her plate. This wasn’t quite the food sharing ceremony that he wanted, but what was hers was his, and what was his was hers. They might as well start sharing now.

He lifted the empty tray off the bath and set it on the floor. He turned to grab a towel but was halted by Nesta stirring.

“What took you so long?” She grumbled.

“I was gone for less than 5 minutes. You’re exhausted.”

“I don’t care. Get in.” Nesta threw as much bite into the command as she could, but her exhaustion won out. Instead, she wound up sounding like a petulant child. Irritated, she made to scooch forward in the tub and stared up at him expectantly.

Cassian loosed a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Your wish is my command, my lady.” He peeled off his clothes, keeping his eyes on hers. He wanted her – needed her – badly, but knew she needed rest. He lowered himself into the bath behind her, wings and all.

“Dunk your hair in so I can wash you.”

Nesta obeyed, and was rewarded by his fingers skillfully lathering something scented with lilacs into her hair. He massaged her temple, her hair, and behind her ears with such skill that she moaned. She felt him hard and ready behind her and made to reach for him. He flicked her hand away, his laugh a quiet grumble in his throat. Cassian leaned his mouth down against her ear to whisper, “When you’re healed and looking pretty again, then I’ll let you fuck me wherever you please in this House.” 

“Using my own words against me. You’re a quick study, Courtier.” Nesta chuckled, “You would think saving the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court would entitle me to some sort of a reward.”

Cassian felt his heart clench, and quickly forced the somber thoughts out of his mind. She had saved them; she had saved them all. He would never stop being thankful for his brave, beautiful mate. “Dunk your hair back in the water and we can get you dried up.” 

“I don’t want to leave the bath yet. I like it here.”

I like it here with you, were the words that were left unspoken, but understood, between the two of them. Cassian nodded silently against her, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

Nesta leaned more fully against him and closed her eyes, and Cassian wrapped his arms around her waist. In their home, his mate in his arms, he relished in this moment. This is more than I could have ever dreamed of.

Nesta whispered, “You’re more than I could have ever dreamed of.”

Cassian stared down at her, but her eyelids were drooping and he knew that she needed rest. He only held her closer and began soothing strokes down her leg.

Safe in her mate’s arms, Nesta slept. 

*

Hours, or maybe even days, later, Nesta awoke in her bed. It was dark again – could she have actually slept an entire day? She rubbed her eyes awake.

Wings, she realized. She had been sleeping cocooned in her mate’s wings; they both were. She turned to face him; her beautiful, kind, and fiercely loving mate. Her love.

It was rare that she awoke before him; his Illyrian training had him up at the crack of dawn every single day. It wasn’t often that Nesta had an opportunity like this, an opportunity to stare at his perfect face. A face she hadn’t seen for a week. A face she hadn’t been able to fully appreciate in their reunion that had been cut short.

Conveniently enough, they were both naked – she peered down and laughed quietly. Even in sleep, he was ready for her.

Nesta lifted an arm to trace the velvety membrane of his wing. She traced from its outermost border toward his back, stroking determinedly where skin met wing, and pressed a kiss to his chest, trailing her mouth upwards. She reached her other hand down and began pumping him softly, and felt her own wetness begin to pool between her legs.

“Good morning,” he whispered when her mouth met his.

“Good morning,” she whispered back, smiling. She lifted her hips in silent command.

Grinning wickedly, Cassian obeyed. He nudged at her entrance but halted there, and Nesta whimpered.

Cassian snickered, “Still so impatient, Archeron.”

Nesta growled. She arched her neck in a second command digging her fingers into his shoulders, and Cassian didn’t hesitate a single second before licking up her neck and plunging into her at the same moment.

I missed this. Being drenched in you. Nesta gasped at Cassian’s voice, as clear as any words spoken aloud, in her mind. Cassian chuckled, his laugh a song to her blood. One of the many benefits of the mating bond, in case you forgot.

Cassian drew out in a long slide, leveraging Nesta’s stunned silence to his benefit. He thrust back, seating himself fully and watched her eyes roll back into her head. The sight of her so undone so quickly had him ready to come instantly, but he willed his cock to relax.

He withdrew again, and watched his cock slide out, gleaming with her wetness, and then plunged again. With every thrust, he lost himself in her, as if he hadn’t already done so weeks, months, and years ago. He lost all sense of himself, and there was her, only her.

I love you. He said into her mind with every thrust. I love you.

Nesta couldn’t stop the barrage of tears freeing themselves from her eyes. The words that had evaded her for so long, the words she knew to be true with his every action and every glance in her direction. The words she didn’t know she needed to hear until now. 

“I love you,” she choked out, “I have always loved you.”

 I love you. With everything I have ever been, with everything that I am, with everything I will ever be. I love you.

Release barreled into them both at the same moment, and he rammed up into her with such a mighty thrust that they both screamed. She clamped around him, and he spilled as much of himself as he could into her.

They clung to each other, Nesta stroking his arm and Cassian clutching her tightly to his chest on top of his thundering heart.  

“I love you,” he whispered, silver lining his eyes, “More and more with every passing moment, with every passing day.”

She kissed him deeply, letting her lips and mouth and tongue convey what words could not. Surrounded by the love of her House, the love of her mate, and her growing love for herself, she said to him, do it again.

Cassian grinned, happy to oblige.

[koshicoast]

Randomly thought of but MHA except Bakugou’s hatred for Deku isnt because he’s quirkless. Bakugou doesn’t hate or is prejudice towards quirkless people, he hates weak people

AU where Bakugou is still somewhat the same as in canon but his feelings and thoughts come from a different mindset

Growing up his parents taught him that a quirk doesn’t make a person stronger, the person makes a quirk strong

This leads him to train in not only with his quirk but also in various areas that could potentially come up during hero work (lock picking, reading body language, shit like that) bc if he’s weak then so is his quirk

If you’re wondering how a child is learning all of this, this is Bakugou-fucking-Katsuki. If he wants something, he’s gonna get it even if it means he has to go through hell.

Luckily in this AU, his parents aren’t neglectful or shitty!! they indulged in his whims more of them than not!!

They’re both famous fashion designers and have a lot of connections when it comes to ‘high end society’ so if katsuki wants to learn how to dress to kill or something like that, they already have it set up for him!

The Bakugou’s teach their little victory all of their tricks and tips about how to theoretically make clothes that have extra space for weapons (they know his desire to be a hero and while they’re a little worried they’re just happy he’s being prepared for the long run.) They don’t actually make clothes for him to hide weapons, they verbally tell him how to do something and tips but they leave it up to him to complete the task to a proficient level

They also let their coworkers teach Bakugou stuff, anything their kid would find important or somewhat interesting (taking pictures is boring but learning how to take clear pictures of a loving target is interesting)

Many models, photographers and people who know the Bakugous have basically adopted Katsuki as their feral child since many of them are unable to have their own kids due to their work

Now, Bakugou has learned things about body language (how to read it), how to fake his confidence, sewing, stitching, how to dress for any situation, etc from his parents and their coworkers

However while those skills are important for him (he has a plan to be the best and he can’t be the best if he’s lacking in skills) he needs to know how to fight hand to hand without a quirk or how to pick locks or how to pickpocket (who knows, maybe he’ll have to steal something from a villain!!)

He doesn’t tell his parents what his specific plans are but he does tell him he’s gonna do training on his own

Now normal parents would be worried but for the sake of the AU let’s just say that katsuki’s parents work on the mentality that ‘their child is strong and even if he gets knocked down, he’ll be right back up. He’s a Bakugou.’

Bakugou’s never give up, it’s not in their blood to give up.

So, Bakugou, feral child, goes off on his own to experience a real fight with people who won’t care if they hurt him or to find someone to teach him how to pick a lock or pickpocket

Most of the adults he’s met are just amused by this kid so they too indulge him and his demands

Especially those who spar with him, Bakugou has made it clear that if he feels like they’re holding back he’ll make it so they can’t afford to anymore

(Yes this isn’t always a good thing but what matters is that he’s survived and somewhat friends with a bunch of shady people)

(They’ll tell you that they’re friends, Bakugou thinks that they’re worthy opponents)

Now this leads me to his relationship with deku

Originally he didn’t actually hate Deku when it’s announced that he’s quirkless, why would he? The nerd just has to get strong and it’ll be fine!

Deku isnt weak because he doesn’t have a quirk just like how Bakugou isn’t strong just because he has a quirk

That mentality lasts for 3 seconds

he starts to hate how the green boy lets that determine his future of being a hero or not

Deku being quirkless isn’t a problem. Deku allowing himself to be weak because he’s quirkless is a problem.

He just gets so frustrated with deku that he eventually just pulls away. He doesn’t want to hang out with someone who doesn’t work towards a goal, blood, sweat, tears and all that.

Deku wanting to be a hero is funny to Bakugou because deku is weak, the nerd let’s people step all over him especially Bakugou

To Bakugou, if deku just stood up for himself for once then he’d respect him

For obvious reasons, Midoriya does not know this and everyone including him assumes Bakugou just hates him because he’s quirkless

(The only exceptions is Bakugou’s parents because they have the same mindset and Inko because her and Mitski are best friends so she’s more than aware of their thought process)

For reasons, Bakugou’s ‘bullying’ is more like taunts and if he does use his quirk he never directly harms Midoriya (he just wants to push the kid to act not kill him) this also means he never tells deku to kill himself

Midoriya firmly believes Bakugou hates him and acts more or less the same as he does in canon

However he doesn’t see how the blonde will text inko to let her know when Midoriya is having a really bad day or how Bakugou wards off students who want to seriously harm him

Is this an excuse to write about Bakugou acting as a ‘reluctant older sibling who just wants the best for the younger but doesn’t know how to verbalize it so their actions come off as bullying or the likes’ and Midoriya being the ‘younger sibling who is terrified of their older sibling but still admires them greatly yet will never say that out loud because they’re convinced said older sibling hates them’? Maybe

Needless to say, this leads to an interesting conversation when the topic of quirkless people comes up during class

Bakugou scowls as he feels his classmates’ stares burn into his skull. He turns around with sneer, his palms popping. “What?” He manages to ask through gritted teeth. All without blowing up too.

His dad is gonna be so proud.

“W-well..” Shitty hair stammers, looking uncomfortable as he shifts in his chair. (The only reason why he doesn’t immediately get blown up is because Bakugou likes him. He’s man enough to admit he’s got a crush but like hell is he gonna do anything about. What he’s not gonna do though? Blow up said crush.)

“Y’know how you are!” Dunce Face blurts out, Tape Face elbowing his stomach harshly as Pinky hisses a not so quiet ‘not cool dude!’ . Now the others are exchanging shifty glances and from how reluctant they are to meet his eyes, he already has a good idea what this is about.

“Yeah yknow we’re just

“Yeah?” His eyes narrow with disdain as his ugly scowl softens into a calculating frown and he tilts his head just slightly. His arms crossed across his chest while he forces his body to relax. It takes just a few seconds but his aura changes from the ‘typical bad boy delinquent’ vibe he usually has going on and turns into something much more. It works wonders and he has a brief flashback from a conversation he had as a kid.

“You want to be intimadating? Don’t shout, don’t fire off your explosions, don’t give any reaction. Be cold, be caculating. Be dangerous little one. Being quiet is the most dangerous one can get.”

He has the electric blonde pinned under his look and faintly he can hear a ‘oh shit’ from a few seats away. He knows what he looks like, practiced the fuck out of this particular stare that a Russian model taught him all those years ago when he went on a fashion trip with his parents.

“I’ll teach you how to be scary little firecracker. Make us proud, you’re our little victory.”

Models, he muses privately as he watches the boy sweat bullets, are as dangerous as they are pretty. It takes a few moments of tense silence before someone eventually breaks and unsurprisingly it’s fucking half-n-half. He doesn’t have a real issue with daddy issues but he’s got a bone to pick with the tea kettle lover after the whole incident at the sports festival. The thought of fighting him is enough to get his blood going.

“They thought you’d hate quirkless people.” Hot Water fucker says, face void of any emotion and voice monotone. Ever since being friends with the nerd, IcyHot has gotten a lot better at speaking up when normally he’d just ignore everything. (Now if only shitty deku could pound some emotion that’d be great.)

Even though he’d expect it, he can’t help but laugh.“Why would I hate quirkless people?” He questions, raising a perfect brow. He drops his arms, an elbow perched up on Midoriya’s desk as his cheek rests on his open palm. He watches them falter, hesitation in their eyes. He decides to add fuel to fire, “One of my favorite people in this world is quirkless. She works for my parents as a secretary, I visit her every time I go.”

He doesn’t bother to listen to the responses, snapping his head and making direct eye contact with the nerd. “I hate people who have potential but let others tell them where they belong. It’s pathetic and sad. They should go get some fucking dignity, you think having a quirk is any better than not having one? It’s like having an arm, it’s the norm but if you don’t got it doesn’t mean you’re broken.” His words come out even despite the frustration building under his skin, he sees how Deku’s eyes widen in some kind of realization so he forces himself to pull his gaze away before landing onto Pony Tail. He doesn’t have an issue with her and actually likes her a lot better than the others but her confidence is so low it offends him, especially since he sees her as an opponent. Her eyes grow big and he can tell she’s nervous but before he can change his mind, his mouth opens. Oops.

The idiots practically brought this upon themselves. Reap what you sow dumbasses.

He just goes off and everyone is just stunned because they had this idea of him but that completely crumbled as soon as he started to reveal some of his thoughts and opinions

(Kirishima always kinda knew Bakugou was like this just bc I say so)

I know where this was going but now I do not lmao

Anyways he said his peace and it’s all quiet as people take in what he said and Ofc mineta decides to say something

“I don’t wanna hear that from a villain!” The diaper baby shrieks loudly, the grape fucker’s finger shaking as he points at him. Now usually, Bakugou has no problem with blasting the little pervert and calling it a day but he’s not quite done giving the literal talk down of a century just yet.

“Listen here you sex offender in training” He sneers and he takes great pleasure in seeing the other tremble in fear. “Wanna know why people shut the fuck up when I talk? Why people bother to take my advice? Why compared to me, you’re just a coward that no one besides the class’s resident sunshine trio will ever look at twice?” He asks, getting up slowly. No one stops him as he takes a step forward.

“Because I say actually fucking matters.” Step. “What I say is based off of experience and talent.” Step. “If you’re lucky then maybe the shit you spew will be worth something because it’s not worth anything here.” He finally makes it to his desk, towering over the other.

“You don’t like what I gotta say? Deal with it. I’ll continue to talk my shit to everyone and anyone because I can back it up. Can you? You fought any villains recently like teach over there? You go through some sudden growth and expand your moral compass like glasses? You fight and protect a little girl from the yakuza recently like Deku and Shitty hair? How bout deal with a shitty dad or shitty parenrs like IcyHot and Eyebags? What? Piss baby too scared now? Yeah, where were you when we were fighting for our lives? Were you there when Pikachu and Tape Face and Racoon Eyes fought against the villains in USJ?” He questions but everyone knows he’s not asking for an answer. “You there when birdbrain almost got kidnapped? You there when I got kidnapped? No? Then do everyone a fucking favor and shut the fuck up or I swear to whatever god you believe in, I’ll shove my fist down your throat and into your pathetic body and explode you so badly they’ll be scrapping off your guts for days.”

Needless to say, it was an interesting class

[damerondala]

Congrats on 100 followers babes!! You deserve each one! Okay so, I gotta go with "this is real life, okay? not an episode of scooby doo.” + Poe bc 😘👌

thank you my dear tegan!!! im so excited i was hoping somebody would request this one and it fits poe perfectly!! 

Poe x GN!Reader + “This is real life, okay? Not an episode of Scooby Doo.”

The mystery had been plaguing the base on D’Qar for weeks now, nobody necessarily knowing what to make of it. Who kept painting murals on the outside wall of the hangar bay? Everyone knew it wasn't a serious threat, probably just somebody trying to lighten everybody’s spirits; especially with everyone being so on edge lately, having no idea if or when the First Order was going to attack. But it was eating you alive, not knowing who did it and how they did it so...well. 

You found yourself among a few fellow pilots and resistance fighters, eating your dinner rations and discussing this artistic addition to the base. “I am just blown away at how they can change it everyday and make it look amazing every time!” Your eyes sparkled, truly fascinated with it. Whoever was behind this had a very keen eye, painting different squadrons and all their members standing heroically, different landscapes of planets, they even drew a giant portrait of General Organa herself, surrounded by beautiful flowers that were native to Alderaan. Again, a very keen eye, this artist had. 

“They probably trace them,” Jessika spoke with a mouthful of food, “no way somebody can pull that outta their ass every day. Plus, how can they not be seen by anybody?” 

“Maybe it’s a g-g-ghoooost!” Snap teased Jess, imitating his voice to sound chilling, like one of those cheesy holodramas boys would take girls to so they could ‘protect’ them from the fake phantoms. This earned him an elbow to the side, an unamused Jess scowling at her squad partner. “Shut up, weirdo.” 

Among the banter and sleuthing, one pilot seemed to be more quiet than usual, Poe flicked his eyes from speaker to speaker, silently observing while eating his ration bar. L’ulo noticed the out of character behavior, Poe always has something to say. “What’s up, Poe? Snap really spook you that bad?” 

The leader of the squadron found his eyes and smiled, finding the teasing to be amusing. “Nah. Just surprised that Karé married him after listening to...that.” Snap giggled boisterously and his fingers found Karé’s sides, tickling her and smushing his bearded cheek against her smooth one, “Aww come on, she can't get enough of me.” Everybody at the table laughing at how Karé pleaded with you to save her from the ‘hairy monster’. After the chuckles died down, you placed your hands on the table in front of you, as if you were presenting a battle plan to take out an entire fleet of tie fighters. “I say we all keep watch tonight, take rotations. I need to know who’s doing this.” The gleam in your eye died when Poe rolled his eyes at your response, “This is real life okay?” turning to face you, his knee bumping against your thigh, “not an episode of Scooby Doo.” 

“Come ooon, Poe! Don’t you want to celebrate whoever is bringing so much life to the base? Don’t act like I didn't catch you staring at it the other day.” You matched his body language, hand pushing off his shoulder to tease him. This was received with a chuckle, Poe swatting at your shoulder as well, mimicking your tone. “Okay smarty pants,” his eyes wielding a childlike glimmer, “first one who finds this mystery artist get’s everybody’s dessert for a week.” 

You smiled at Poe. “You’re on.” 

~

That night, Snap and Karé took the first watch. Ending their shift with no new findings, causing to Jess practically vibrate with excitement. If people thought Poe was competitive, they obviously had never met Jess, she was so competitive it became annoying sometimes. But much to her dismay, Jess also reported no new leads. “Not even as much as a stupid Squonk flew by!” She retired to her quarters afterward, discouraged and sleepy. 

Your turn was next. Perched on one of D’Qar’s rolling hills with binoculars and some caf to keep you awake, you heard some shuffling from foliage to your left, right hand unlocking your blaster holster in case you needed to defend yourself from hostile wildlife, or even worse, a First Order spy. Your breath ceased with anticipation, but was gladly released from your chest when you were met with the sight of Poe. A warm chuckle came from your friend when he saw your hand ready to fire. “And they say I’m trigger happy. Easy, y/n, it’s just me.” He took a spot next to you, crossing his legs in front of him. “Any breakthroughs?” His eyes not leaving the stars above. It was clear and beautiful out tonight. You glanced at his profile, smiling to yourself, and looked up as well. “Nope. Guess it was stupid, huh?” Poe turned his head to you, making eye contact but quickly breaking it. “No, i--it’s,” more uncharacteristic silence, what in the stars was with him today? “Sweet. You’re so curious.” 

This granted him a smile, “Heh. Thanks, Dameron.” you breathed in the warm air, “So, who do you think it is?” 

“Hmm. Well, if I told you, you have to promise to keep it a secret.” His lips quickly turned up into a smile at your unabashed gasp, “What?! How do you know? Tell me, tell me!” 

“Alright, alright! Jeez, how can you have this much energy at two in the morning?” This question was left unanswered by you, your big eyes looking at him so remarkably as he reached in the front pocket of his bottoms, pulling out a piece of paper that was folded a few times, creasing the smooth planes of it. He stuck it out to you, watching as you snatched it from his hand and unraveled it like a young child opening their life day gift. Another gasp left your mouth, but this time Poe didn't smile at it, his stomach was churning, afraid that he might seem like a creep for what you were about to discover. 

“It’s...me.”

You looked up at his face, hands still clutching the sketch of you, standing in front of your X-Wing with your helmet on your hip and looking very triumphant. His hand farthest from you found the nape of his neck, awkwardly scratching while he whispered, “This was supposed to be the next one. The one I did tonight.” 

You were, for lack of a better term, absolutely floored. A million questions were swimming through your brain but you were just left to stare at the pilot next to you, your mouth wordlessly moving. “Kriff, y/n, I’m sorry. If you don’t want me to do it I-I can do something else! It’s just, remember the day when you got your own X-Wing? You looked so happy an-” Poe was cut off by a bone-crushing hug around his middle, your head landing on his shoulder as you squeezed, making his heart pound so hard in his chest he thought he might die. “Poe, it’s amazing!” You lifted your head to face him, “I didn't know you were so artistic! How long have you been keeping this a secret? How have you not been caught?!” Your hands were flying around every which way while you rambled and he gave you a dumbfounded grin, astonished at how cute you were, although he would never admit it out loud. “There’s a lot you don't know about me, sweetheart.” 

[toshis-puppycat]

hii you know who this is, i’m just on anon bc i’m shyyy✨ but could i maybe get headcanons for aizawa with a s/o who’s good with kids, like maybe how bringing eri into your home would go over 👉🏻👈🏻

Ahhhh!!! I love Aizawa so much, I hope I do him some justice 👉👈

• Aizawa loves you, he loves how you're sweet and kind, and how you make sure he can nap properly

• He also loved how whenever you two actually went out for a day, if you saw a child crying youd go to help them

• He would love seeing the sparkle in your eyes as you helped them look for their parents

• Or if they were teenagers how youd make sure that they were able to stay calm if they panicked (very few did thank god)

• Or how you could get them away from a dangerous situation if God forbid someone attempted to hurt them for their quirk

• How if there was a villain attack going on and a child was near youd make sure (if they wanted to watch) that they were a safe distance away but

• Aizawa does not like kids, not at all. At last thats what he always thought

• They were loud, annoying and he had to deal with so many students every year, why would he like them?

• Then his current Homeroom class came in

• And all of them had so much potential to be heros (although Midoryia made him worried, breaking his bones wasn't good for his body)

• It didnt hit how much he cared about them until villains started coming after them and he knew

• He felt it and told you maybe he didn't dislike kids as much as he thought

• He defended his students, when the media went after Bakugou he shut that down immediately

• The anger he felt, seeing them try to condem a child

• His kids, they were going to be fantastic heros

• He didnt think hed adopt any one of them though, oh no most of them had very loving families or they wanted to be independent of them

• He offered his support though, made sure all of his students understood that he was on their side

• Then Midoryia came out of a hole during a raid, green sparks going off around him and holding a child, a very young terrified looking little girl

• He could barely see her, but she was small and she looked so scared

• After that he would go with Midoryia and Toogata to the hospital and he listened to her basically admitting she didn't know how to smile and he made a choice

• All he had to do was tell you

• And he did, he invited you on a day he knew his students weren't coming and he introduced you to Eri

• You fell in love and looked at him with a glint in your eyes saying "let's adopt her Shōta"

• You two slowly had her move into your lives, opening up your home to her

• Spoiling her with whatever made her happy

• Sometimes she had nightmares but you two didn't mind making sure she knew she was safe

• The extra hours of not sleeping didnt matter when you made sure she was comfortable

• Having Eri integrated into your lives was the best thing that ever happened

• That was his only thought when he saw you tucking her into bed and kissing her forehead, whispering goodnight

[yeenybeanies]

Starstruck

ok so aftermath was Kinda Dumb but i got to see johnny’s stupid face some more & i just reblogged a whole lotta gifs of him onto my main account lmao so here we are also i haven’t proofread this yet bc it’s 1am  i’m tired

mortal kombat | johnny cage & gray brooks ( oc )

1,471 words

strong language warning

reblogs > likes !! thanks for reading !!

What can she say? She’s starstruck. 

Well––she’s partially starstruck, and partially terrified. It’s not every day that Gray gets to see her favorite actor, the one and only Johnny Cage.

“ Woah. You’re . . . seriously tiny. ”  His voice booms high above her, louder and richer in person that she’s ever heard it on the big screen.  “ You’re, like, smaller-than-my-action-figure tiny. ”

Yeah. That’s where the terrified aspect comes in. Johnny Cage, of course, is human. And Miss Gray Brooks? She is a borrower. She is a grand four inches tall, staring, starstruck/terrified, at Johnny F. Cage. ( The F stands for Fucking. Or maybe it doesn’t. She doesn’t know what his middle name is, or if it even starts with F. ) 

“ Uhm–– . . .! ”  Shit. She should probably run. Borrowers are supposed to run and hide when there are humans around. But her legs––they feel like jelly. They feel like jelly that’s cemented itself to the ground, feeling like they’re about to give out under her at any moment, while not letting her move from this very exposed spot on the floor.

For a long moment, neither of them, human nor borrower, move. Gray can’t hear anything but the blood roaring in her ears. Is she still breathing? Oh, Gods, she must be the worst borrower ever.

It’s Johnny that does eventually break his statue act first. He bends at the waist, looming over her diminutive person, and lowers his sunglasses to look at her without any barriers before his eyes.

“ Hunh. Y’know, if I didn’t just see you walking, I’d think you actually are an action figure. ”  Whether it’s intentional or just a natural quirk of his, Johnny flashes a trademarked Johnny Cage Smirk. ( Gods, Gray thinks she might just swoon. )  “ You gonna say somethin’, sweetums? Can you even talk? ” 

He lowers himself to a crouch and reaches forward, index finger extended. He means to poke. That’s enough to snap the little being from her stupor and skitter backwards. Johnny’s smile only widens.

“ See? I knew you were real. ”  His hand retreats, coming to rest on the bend on his knee.

“ Y-yeah, I should, um––I should go . . .! ”  She manages to squeak out. Perhaps later she’ll kick herself over how meek she sounds, but that will have to wait.

“ Hah! ”  Gray flinches. He’s loud.  “ Knew you could talk too! ”  His outburst has Gray covering her ears and flinching. The starstruck-ness is quickly wearing off.

“ Mr. Cage . . . you’re yelling . . .! ”  She takes another step back, hands pressed firmly to either side of her head. His voice is booming, shaking her very bones. ( Or maybe she’s just started shivering in her surging fright. ) 

“ Oh––shit, sorry, I––wait, you know my name? ”  The human puts his hands to the floor, steps his legs out behind him, and lowers his chest and belly to the floor. With his chin resting atop his folded forearms, he’s only a few inches above Gray’s eye level, and close enough now that she can feel the gusts from each breath he takes.

He’s . . . so much bigger up close.

Gray couldn’t stifle her shaking if she tried. Oh, she should run. She really should run, but, under those big, brown eyes, she’s frozen yet again.

“ Aw, c’mon now. Don’t go quiet on me. You were just talking. ”  He watches her expectantly. It’s reminiscent of a cat toying with a mouse––at least, that’s what comes to Gray’s mind.

“ Um . . . if I talk . . . will you let me go? ”  Much like the rest of her body, her voice quivers. It’s rather pathetic, she thinks––yet another thing to berate herself over later. That’s assuming she sees a  “ later. ”

Something looking like an epiphany crosses the human’s features. He clears his throat and shimmies back, giving Gray a bit more room.  “ Well––yeah. I mean, I’m not gonna hold you hostage or anything. I’ve just never seen a–a living doll before. ”  He lifts two fingers to gesture to her for emphasis.

Gray’s cheeks heat up.  “ I’m––I’m not a doll. ”  She swallows thickly, trying to choke down some of the fear.  “ And, um, yes. I know your name. I’ve . . . seen a lot of your movies . . .. ” 

“ Really? ”  His grin widens, nearly splitting his face in two. Gray is experiencing a myriad of conflicting emotions right now. Terror? Embarrassment? Elation? Perhaps a little indignation at being called a doll?  “ How? Are there, like, little TVs? “ 

“ No, I–I used to live in a, uh––in a movie theater, ”  she admits, eyes askance. It’s hard to look Johnny in the eye at all, let alone meet his gaze when he’s ( still ) so close.

Gray was in that theater for years. It was one of the best places to live. She could scurry around in the darkness, collecting fallen scraps of popcorn, candy, and various other concession snacks. Best of all, she could catch every Johnny Cage film that came out during her residency––along with several re-showings of older films. It was a tragic day when that theater closed down, forcing the borrower to move elsewhere.

She’s loathe to admit to his face, but she’d found herself with a little ( or a rather sizeable ) crush on the human before her. Never in a thousand years did she ever think she’d actually meet him, though. Up close like this, he’s . . . well, he’s still handsome, but self preservation is hindering those giddy feelings.

“ Okay, so, I’m just coming up with more questions here. A teeny tiny person one: exists; two: is a fan of my movies; and three: managed to make it all the way onto a secure special forces base. I might think to accuse you of spying, but you’ve broken into the food stores, as opposed to anything with sensitive information. Never mind that you’re . . . I  mean . . .. ” 

She knows what he means. It brings some red to her cheeks. Yes, she’s small. She gets it. Gray fidgets with her hands and chews on the insides of her cheeks.  “ Yeah . . . so, can I, uh, go now? ” 

“ What? We haven’t even covered the basics yet! Like what are you? What’s your name? What was your favorite Johnny Cage movie? ”  He looks less like a predatory cat now and more like a child that’s found a new toy. That’s a bit scarier, Gray decides.

“ Mr. Cage, I–I really should be leaving . . .. You’re not supposed to see me . . .. ”  She tries to backpedal some more. Johnny shifts, head lifted and one hand moving towards her, but he stops himself when she squeaks and cowers.

“ Um. Hey, Thumbelina? No need to act so scared. Hey, c’mon, I’m not gonna hurt you. ”  Gently he prods at her shoulder with his index finger, rocking her on her feet once. She shakes under his touch.  “ Ooookay, ”  he says, pulling his hand back again.  “ Alright. I’m scaring you. Listen, you can go, and I won’t mention to anyone that I saw you on two conditions, okay? ” 

Gray peeks up at him through her arms. His smile looks like it should be reassuring, but it definitely isn’t. Conditions means coercion.

“ Condition one: you tell me your name. Con––– ” 

“ Gray. Gray Brooks, ”  she interrupts. He can have her name. There’s nothing he can do with it anyway.

“ Alllright. That’s kinda a cool name. You sound like a hollywood star. ”  He winks, though it does little to calm the borrower.  “ Okay, condition two: you, little Miss Gray, have to promise me another conversation. ” 

A what?

Gray feels her heart drop, feels her blood run cold. He’s blackmailing her into seeing him again? 

She must really look scared, because Johnny quickly waves a placating hand. He clears his throat, the sound making her wince.  “ Okay, okay––I’m not gonna tell anyone about you regardless. But . . . you can’t blame me for being curious. It’s not every day you meet a tiny person that watches your movies! C’mon, darlin’, how about you meet me here again tomorrow and I’ll crack open an MRE for us to munch on while we chat. ” 

Food. Food is always a powerful persuasion tool.

Gray swallows, and nods awkwardly, if only to appease the human. Whether or not she intends to actually meet him here tomorrow, she’s not so sure. As of right now, it’s leaning towards a big NO. 

“ Great! ”  Johnny pushes up quickly, clapping his hands mid-pushup, and jumps to his feet. The combination of the rapid movement and the loud noise startle Gray enough to get her moving. She bolts, slipping under one of the food storage shelves and vanishing from his sight. Johnny blinks, a little taken aback by how quick she is, but he shrugs.  “ See ya tomorrow then. ” 

Maybe.

As his heavy footsteps retreat from the room, Gray slowly releases a breath she’d been holding. She bows her head, catching it in her hands.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could she let herself get caught like that? 

But also . . ..

Holy shit, she just met JOHNNY F. CAGE.

[childofhelios]

“flower blooms and falls scars cure and buds shoot”

ship: Hades!Doyoung x Persephone!Taeyong

characters: Doyoung, Taeyong, with appearances by Jeno and mention of Zeus!Johnny and Poseidon!Ten 

rating: general/teen for slight injury and mentions of blood, also slight possessiveness from Doyoung but he regrets it very soon after

genre: fluff with angst for like .5 seconds

word count: 2.8k

title was taken from seventeen’s fallin’ flower, which is really good to listen to while reading! also, tell me if there are any mistakes bc i did convert a piece of my other writing into this fic. but anywho enjoy and feel free to send a message/ask about what you think about it :DDDD

“Taeyong, please just come out.” I lean my forehead against the black, walnut door where I can hear him franticly running around her room.  “We can talk about this like civilized people.” I hear him begin to mutter under his breath and I catch him saying my name and a few unpleasant phrases that I wish weren't associated with my name, but alas. “Taeyong, don’t you think you’re being a little immature? You’re acting like a child!” 

I almost fall forward as the door opens suddenly. Taeyong’s eyes were ablaze with fury as he stares at me in front of his door.  

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, Doyoung. I just didn’t expect to get kidnapped by someone that I’ve never met, starved for six months, accidentally eat a pomegranate, and then be stuck in this terrible, dreary place with no other company other than the dead and you. And I would rather spend time with the dead!”  

“Believe me, the dead are worse company than I am.” 

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” I jolt at his loud voice echoing through the manor. I’ve had his presence for over six months, and I’m still not used to having people around me. To having an actual living, breathing person in my company. He sweeps a hand through bubblegum pink bangs and takes a deep sigh. “Doyoung, I beg of you. The humans need me. Without me, they’ll die. I need to go back on the surface to assist my mother.” 

I roll my eyes. “Humans are made to die. It’s how they're made to be. Plus, She’s is a goddess that has been around for centuries. She was able to assist humans without you there. Besides,” I take a hold of his hands, his beautiful tan contrasting against the blueish pallor of mine, “didn’t you say you loved me?” 

Yanking his hand out of mine, he says, “I said I loved you a little. And if I knew that it would go straight to your head and you would try to use against me, I wouldn’t have said it. If you had given me the chance, maybe it could have grown. Maybe I would have been able to become your bride.” 

“Taeyong, you can’t leave. I finally got used to having someone with me. You can still become my husband.” 

“Doyoung. You can’t just keep me here because you’re lonely.” 

I sigh and rise to my full height, towering over him slightly. “You’ve misunderstood me. You can’t leave. I forbid it.” 

He scoffs and pushes past me. “Haven’t you heard of free will? I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.” Before he rounds the corner, something whizzes by his face. He whips around, furious with a small cut on his cheek beginning to spill golden ichor. I stride up to him and yank the sharpened ruby out of the wall.  

“It seems that you've forgotten who I am. I am Doyoung, the god of the underworld and riches. I am one of the oldest gods to exist and I’ll be one of the last to disappear. Did you think you’ll be able to leave that easily? This is my domain and I decide what comes in and out of it. And you,” I crush the ruby and let the powder run through my fingers like sand, “aren’t going anywhere, my little lotus. Now, you can walk to your room on your own, or I can have Cerberus escort you back there. Your choice, my dear.” 

If looks could kill, I would already be six feet under as Taeyong stares up at me. Slowly, he steps away and walks in the direction of his door. I watch as he leads a trail of ichor and shuts his door with a forceful SLAM! 

 I begin walking towards my quarters. As soon as I close my door, my knees give out. “Gods, why did I do that? You know that he’s right. We can’t force him here; he’s going to be unhappy and what’s the point of having him here if he’s upset the entire time?” I stare down at my hands as they tremble slightly. “I injured him. On purpose, I made him bleed.” It’s a weird feeling to be shaken by blood when that’s what I deal with every day. I see the most gruesome of murders and war causalities but injuring a minor god has me shaking in my boots. I wobble over to my sink and submerge my face underwater. I came up gasping for air and catch my reflection in the mirror. At the rate I’m paling, I’ll look more like a ghost than the people outside the manor. My eyes resemble the darkest of obsidian and have deep eye bags underneath them, my face is sunken in as if I’m a beggar from the streets, and my hair is matted in every which way. The longer I stare at myself, the more I can see the monster Taeyong must see.  

“JENO!” My voice booms and seconds later, a pile of bones bursts through the door. No, quite literally, a disassembled skeleton falls through my door and onto the ground before me. The skull, sporting a flat cap, turns towards me and grins widely.  

“Master Doyoung! What can I do to help you today?” 

“Please tend to Mr. Taeyong from now own. First, make sure his wound is taken care of. Second, make sure he eats, sleeps, and does whatever else he needs and wants to do. Do you understand?” 

“Absolutely, Master. He’s in the right hands. Or, um, bones.” 

“No tricks, Jeno. I don’t think our guest would appreciate that. And neither would I.”  

Jeno’s voice takes on a mischievous tone. “Guest? Don’t you mean groom, Master? Unless you’re having second thoughts?” 

“I’m not sure what you mean. But I do know this.” I pick up the skull and stare fiercely where the eyes would have been. “If you do anything to upset her, I will crush your bones into powder and use it as incense for the next 30 years. Do you understand?” 

“Would my bones even last that long?” 

“Do you really test me right now?” 

“Fine. I understand. Now, can you please put me back together again?” I roll my eyes, but I set down the skull in the middle of the bones. My eyes glow a bright gold and with a wave of my hand, the skeleton assembles once more. He fidgets with his cap.  

“Now, that’s much better!” 

“What happened to you?”  

“Cerberus tried to use me as a chew toy. Again.” 

“I knew there was a reason he’s my favorite.”  

“I would take personal offense to that but, he’s my favorite too.”  

“Go to Taeyong. Make sure she’s alright.”  

“Your wish is my command, Master.” As he walks out the door, his bones clatter and then I’m left in silence. I fall back into my bed, wondering if I should just apologize to him directly. I did act unreasonably, and I shouldn’t have let my anger explode like that, but I don’t want him to leave. As I lay there, I slowly drift off.  

 The next month is difficult for multiple reasons. First, immediately after I send Jeno to take care of Taeyong, he throws a fit and makes flowers grow out of every hole in his skeletal body. Then, he refuses to eat with me or even look at me. I would walk down the hall and he’d sprint into a side room just to avoid me. And let’s not even get started with the escape attempts. You would think after about 10, he would give up. But no. He has tried to escape more than 50 times. Fifty. I swear to the gods, he’s making me grow gray hairs just from stress. Then we have Johnny, Ten, and practically the entirety of the Pantheon breathing down my neck trying to bring her back. And I’ve explained to them multiple times that it’s the law of the underworld and I can’t change it simply because one young goddess is down here. But now, Thunder Thighs and Kelp-for-Brains can’t grasp it for some reason.  

I sit behind my desk, grasping my head as I glare at the piles of scrolls in front of me. You would think death was pretty cut and dry, but no. I have to deal with making sure bodies end up with families, people don’t act on stupid grudges and become monsters to kill people, or something else entirely stupid. I pick up one scroll when the door cracks open.  

“Jeno, I thought I told you if you disturbed me, I would- “  

“Let Cerberus year me apart and keep me as his chew-toy, I know, I know. But it’s urgent.”  

I drop the scroll in my hand. “If it means I can get out of my work, I’m all ears.”  

“Mr. Taeyong…. He’s disappeared again, Master.”  

The pounding in my head worsens. “Oh.” 

“Shall I go after him? Or maybe send some people after him?” 

“No, just leave him. If he’s this persistent to leave, then we should just let him go.” 

“But, Master!” 

“Enough, Jeno. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a rest before I break the law of my land.” I stand and stagger my way to my bedroom, ignoring Jeno’s shouts and how my head worsens with each step I take. Ugh, this whole affair is such a mess. I shouldn’t have gotten myself involved with him in the first place. I close my eyes and the next time they open; the sky had faded from the morning’s light dusk to the afternoon’s midnight blue. I rise with my robes wrinkled and sleep in my eyes. I find my way to the kitchen and snag an apple before heading to the endless pile of scrolls I left. On my way there, I see Taeyong’s door slightly ajar.  

“Jeno, I thought I told you about going through other people’s things? You never-” Instead of seeing that insufferable skeleton with a guilty grin, I find Taeyong unpacking a bag. “You’re back.” 

“Not by choice, unfortunately.”  

“Oh? I thought you had left. Did Jeno stop you? I told him not to and not to send anybody either.” 

“No, my mother stopped me. Talked about how if I came back before my time here was finished, you would kill any human that even breathed wrongly. So, now I’m back here. I’m sure you’re ecstatic about it.” 

“No!” He looks at me suspiciously, setting down the robes he took out of his bag. “I knew you didn’t want to be here, so I thought not going after you once you had left would finally let you be happy. But it appears to be untrue.” He shakes his head and turns back to his clothes. “If there’s anything I can do that would make it easier for the next five months, please tell me.” 

“I don’t know. Not being here would be pretty great.” 

I wince. “Other than that?” 

“Answer this for me. You say you want me here, but you act like a shriveled prune every time I’m near. Why?”  

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean.” 

“I mean this! This is both the most you’ve ever spoken to me and the nicest you’ve been to me. It’s been a month and we’ve barely talked.” 

“So, what should I do?” 

He walks past me to the door and looks back at me from the doorframe. “Show me. Be sincere and I’ll see if I’ll want to stay.” He walks off and I’m just left stupefied in her room. I all but sprint to my office and start scrawling out two letters.  

I summon Jeno and give him a message. “Give this to Ten and Johnny. Tell them to respond to me immediately.” 

If immediately means 6 days later, I fear for their subjects. As I skim through both of their letters, I see the same pattern of making fun of me, attempting to help, and then making fun of me again. I should have expected it from Airhead, but I thought Ten would be at least somewhat helpful. I throw both of their scrolls in the fire because there was no use in keeping those around. I slam my head into my desk a couple of times, wallowing.  

Over several days, I tried every trick known to man and god. But it either ends with me making a fool of myself or just making Taeyong even angrier. I squat in the garden and hang my head in defeat. The artificial sun in the sky beats down on my skin and my hands are covered in coarse dirt.  

“Master, are you sure you don’t want us to help you? We have staff for this sort of thing.”  

I look back at Jeno. “For the fifth time, Jeno, I truly don’t mind doing this. At least, this is something to distract me from my work. I think my headache is getting better too.” 

“That must be true, sir, because you haven’t stopped smiling since you started planting. “ 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I look towards the lavender sprigs sitting next to me. “I was just thinking of Taeyong’s reaction when he sees this. I hope this brings a little bit of happiness to his stay here.” I continue planting the lavender until there was a cluster in the section closest to the entrance. At this point, I’ve only put half of the flowers in the ground. But I feel pride swell in my chest as I look at the tiny cluster I planted.  

“What are those?” I whip around to see Taeyong standing on the steps. 

“Oh, um. I was just planting some flowers in the garden. I know you’ve missed nature so I thought I would try to bring some to you.” 

“Wouldn’t they just die?” 

“No. I’ve been trying to grow different types of flowers down here and lavender was the only one that survived.” He continues to stare at me with a mysterious look in his eye. After a couple of seconds, he speeds down the stairs and gets on his knees in front of the sprigs I just planted. “What are you doing?” 

He snaps at me. “Shut up.” If it had been anybody else, they wouldn’t have been saying another word for the rest of their lives and even after that. But I close my mouth and I study Taeyong and he studies the lavender. His hands glow a soft pink and the lavender turns vibrant, almost energized. “There. That should help it for a little while.” 

“What did you just do?” 

“Just gave it a little pick-me-up.” I nod in understanding and Taeyong moves where I had placed the other flowers. “Where were you going to put these?”  

I point at the other side of the garden and he strides over there with the flowers in hand. “Ah, Taeyong. There’s no need. I have this under control.” 

He scoffs. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for the flowers because you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“Isn’t it just simply putting the plants into the ground and tending to their needs?” 

“Oh, gods. It’s so much more than that. You must be gentle and treat them with the utmost care. You move slowly and fluidly. Come here, I’ll show you.” I squat next to him and see him sprinkling dirt to cover the roots. “Doyoung?” 

“Yes, Taeyong?” 

“Did you know that there’s a language just for flowers?” 

“Really? Fascinating. Is it possible for me to learn? Can you understand it? Wait, has the lavender been speaking the entire time?” 

Taeyong giggles and the artificial sun shines brighter. “Not that kind of language. Each flower has its own meaning. Roses are passion, daisies are innocence, carnations are good fortune, etc.” 

“Wow, then what’s lavender?” 

He stares directly into my eyes, the mysterious look back on his face. “A lot of things but to name a few: purity, calmness, and... devotion.” 

The sun beats down harder, feeling like ants are crawling over my back. “Oh.” 

“Mhm. That’s why they’re one of my favorite flowers. They have a pure message, they’re absolutely beautiful, and they’re able to grow anywhere.”  

“Oh.” 

“Doyoung, do you understand what I’m saying?” 

“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t the faintest idea.” 

His eye twitches and throws a handful of dirt at my chest. “You’re a fool. I’m saying I return your affections. I acknowledge your feelings and feel the same way. Gods, I’m saying I love you and I’m willing to become your husband.” 

It didn’t fully register so my response was: “Oh, that’s nice.”  

“Let’s just continue planting these before it gets too dark, or at least darker. Then, we can discuss this later.”  

And so, we spent the afternoon tending to the flowers and as the day faded to night, we fell asleep with “I love you’s” littering the air like the sweetest and most intoxicating perfume.  

[litt1edeath]

Ooeeh headcanon about a fight and making up with Henry?🥰

Kiss & Make Up

Basically y’all know what’s bout to go down. And it’s only healthy for couples to fight Henry~ i hope i did this justice i’m new to headcanons n i can’t tell if this is a mini story or naw??? >w<

it’s the first fight you two ever have, and boy is it bad. in the few months you’ve dated the high of the first few weeks never died down. you really thought you would never fight.

but every healthy couple is bound to fight, at least you try to tell yourself that when he’s yelling at you.

henry’s voice is deep and exasperated as he bickers with you over having another man in your shared home. ‘Yours’.

his nose flares, cheeks reddened to impossible heights as his chest puffs with air and deflates. his teeth are clenched and eyebrows drawn near to the middle, making lines crease his forehead.

evidently not everyone else’s, especially guys who were so clearly just a friend.

his accusations come out of nowhere, hitting deep as he shoves things around. breaks items that are materialistic, but a hassle to clean up.

it’s scary to see him like this, so you stay in place. trembling while you cautiously watch him go about his little destruction spell.

what draws the last straw is his words, “are you sleeping with him?”. no one ever likes to hear those words from someone they love.

with the track record you have of being used or cheated on, you’d think henry would be wise to not go there. but stranger things have happened, right?

boy does it sting, like a knife twisting in your heart. you bite your bottom lip bitterly, arguing would only make it worse you knew this from past flings.

finally as if all tuckered out, henry stops yelling. heaving a deep breath as he looks around the mess he’s caused.

little shards of glass, water, flowers and papers all across the wood floorboards. that you took the curtesy or mopping and polishing.

you knew he was stressed and busy from work, so maybe this was all it was? yet the tears stung at the back of your eyes. pushing their way forward to the corners of your eyes.

futilely you try to blink them away but they only seem to go free, cascading down your cheeks and as if sensing the little sniffle you make, henry looks over truly shocked.

all the rage and frustration ebbs away with one look at your composure crumbling.

a heart broken smile directed at him, tears clinging on at the globe of your cheeks. Making them glisten in the fading sun through the window.

he crowds your space quickly as you wipe the dew drops away trying to save face. too late.

he’s all “i’m sorries.”, “i didn’t mean it.” as fast as he can, breathing heavily. promising he’d clean the mess up. to never raise his voice at you again- so forth.

still he doesn’t get much further before your hands, clenched into fists met his sturdy chest. he grunts stunned as he backs away with awe at your sudden attack.

of course you could never go for the face but his body wasn’t off limits- to a degree. If you really wanted to hurt him, and not yourself you could’ve just aimed lower.

that’d be a literal dick move.

the punch is however a big mistake you’re all, “argh, i can’t even fucking hurt you because you’re built like a fucking wall! and now my hand hurts!” (i can’t help but be a dork even when it’s serious fuck 🤣💀)

him tries to help, really he does. genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.

you fight him off mutter things like, “you aren’t a child.”, etc.

as time passes on you get nowhere, and extend your hand out to him. effortlessly he presses against your bones and muscles lightly. asking if it hurts every so often, with a shake of your head, he smiles.

and curse that smile bc you’re weak for it.

he lifts your hand up, cradle in his two larger palms and kisses your knuckles. rubbing over your achy flesh.

henry gets you an ice pack for the swelling, saying you’ll live. you opt to calling him ‘colossus’ after that encounter.

to run his apology forward he cleans the house up, apologizes to your friend he scared off coming home like a raging bull. by phone call. even offered to sleep on the sofa if you were still pissed or hurting. even scared of him.

hell he’d find a motel for your comfort. no compromise was too much for him.

with that done, he vanishes while you’re mid winding down your anxiety watching funny animals videos.

little snorts or giggles filling the air.

curiously you worried over it being so silent only to see he’s leaning into the back of the sofa. watching you with that warmed look in his eyes, somehow you can tell he’s still tense and stressed beneath that fond expression.

so you do what any girlfriend would do, kiss and make up with the lovable teddy bear.

initiating the kiss first, he wraps his arms around your hesitantly. worried he’d hurt you or scare you again.

you spend the better part of coaxing and reassuring him, he would never hurt you.

leading up to him telling about his stressful day at work and how parazzi kept harassing him about his personal life. you in particular in excruciating details.

false rumors, accusations, etc. it had his blood boiling at people saying inaccurate things about you.

him wanting to protect your honor makes your heart flutter to life with those familiar feelings. the highs of your relationship bleeding to the forefront.

with your anxiety down to a manageable level, it’s your objective to also bring henry’s down too. giving him massages that he returns to you in the payment of kithes.

by the time you both fall asleep right there cuddled on the sofa ironically. his larger body covers yours, head cradled between your breast. breathing evenly, and you run a hand through his curly locks whispering a, “i love you ya big idiot.”

[sonicrainicorn]

Patton is Berry Done

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 4092 Desc.: Logan gets drunk for the first time in his life, and Patton realizes it’s not as fun to be on the other end. TW: Alcohol, cursing, a lot of throwing up (it’s only ever mentioned tho bc ew)

The idea came to me when I was working on the one-shot that was actually supposed to be published. whoops. Hope you like drunk Logan, anyway.

///

One Friday night, Damien invited Patton and Logan over to hang out. Patton, who was very much well aware of what his brother meant by ‘hang out’, asked Thomas if he was willing to babysit. Well -- he asked Logan if he could ask Thomas. Patton was sure that asking Thomas for anything would end in his funeral. Which he understood completely. Though, if you told him last month that Thomas would genuinely threaten to break every bone in his body, he would have thought you were joking. Thomas was the nicest person he knew.

Either way, he agreed and Patton and Logan thanked him again before leaving. When they got there, Damien had already started drinking.

“Rough day at work, then?” Patton asked with a raised brow.

Damien glared at him and let them in the house. Emile and Remy were sitting on the floor, using the coffee table to play a card game. By the looks of it, Emile was winning. And by a lot. A random TV show was on that no one paid attention to. Background noise, then.

“Hi, guys,” Emile chirped. “I win again, by the way.” He flipped the dealer’s -- also known as Damien’s -- card over, nonchalantly taking a sip of wine.

In a great feat of theatrics, Remy fell back and let out a short yell. “How the hell do you win every time?”

“I told you not to play blackjack with him, but you insisted.” Damien rolled his eyes and gathered all the cards. “You should probably stop before he wins everything you own.”

“Damn bastard already has everything I own,” Remy grumbled under their breath.

Emile smiled sweetly at them.

Damien tossed the card pack at Patton, who almost didn’t catch it. “Work did suck if you must know. And I need someone to get drunk with. Remy can’t do it because they work tomorrow and Em doesn’t like to get drunk so...” He looked at Patton like it was obvious. “You definitely weren’t my first option.”

Seems someone was still a little mad. “Why don’t you just go to a bar?” Patton sat next to Emile.

“Because I want to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of my own home.” He crossed his arms. “Will you do it or not?”

“No thanks.” He started shuffling the cards.

Damien groaned dramatically. “You never give me what I want.” A buzzed middle child who was in a Mood didn’t make for good conversation, as it turned out. He turned to Logan. “What about you?”

Patton expected the answer to be the same, he had no reason to doubt otherwise, but then Logan -- Logan who took one shot on his twenty-first birthday and then never drank again, said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not”

“Oh God, yes. Finally.” Damien rushed to the kitchen with a large grin.

Patton stopped shuffling to stare at Logan with what he assumed could be translated as what the actual fuck all over his face.

It seemed to catch Logan’s attention. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You don’t drink.”

“Well, out of the two of us, I’m not the one known for doing regrettable things so I think we’re safe.”

Ooh, yikes. Yeah, that was a hundred percent called for. Patton shifted in his spot and diverted his attention back to the cards. Turns out he didn’t have any more to say.

Emile glanced between them, a small thoughtful frown on his face. He erased it with a shake of his head. “So what are we playing?”

“Poker.”

Remy sat up. “Great. I actually have a chance at this.”

“Did you want to join us, Logan?” Emile sent him a small smile.

“With the way D’s going to drink tonight?”  A sly grin slid across Remy’s face. “ I think he’ll have his hands full already.”

Right on time, Damien came charging back into the room. In his arms were various supplies such as shot glasses, vodka, tequila, and a few different chasers. He set them all on the table. “Wanna match me shot for shot?” He held up the bottle of vodka with an inviting grin.

“No.” Patton snatched it out of his hand.

He made an offended noise akin to a child getting their toy taken away. “Why not?”

“Because I know how many shots you can take and I don’t want you giving my husband alcohol poisoning.”

“Ugh, fine.” He took the bottle back. “For every shot you take, I’ll take a double.”

Patton’s, “That’s not what I meant.” versus Emile's, “You’re already tipsy.” did nothing in comparison to Remy’s much louder, “Do it bitch, you won’t.”

“Alright, bet.” He sat at the unoccupied side of the table.

Emile hit Remy’s shoulder and gave them an ‘are you kidding me?’ look. They simply shrugged in response.

“C’mon, Logan, let’s see how fast we can regret this tomorrow.” He started pouring out the first shots and chasers, eager to get started. The only time Damien was eager to do something was if it caused damage -- be it to property or livers.

Logan sighed, shrugged to himself, and sat next to Damien. Patton watched wearily as he took his first shot. His face screwed up as it burned its way down. Patton could feel the phantom burns in his own throat. Straight vodka wasn’t his favorite, but it was always common at college parties. He knew the motions well. Take the shot, let it burn -- but don’t act like it burns, then sip a chaser if there happens to be one. (Though, if there was one, it was always alcoholic.) Logan didn’t know the ‘etiquette’ of drinking well enough. He reached for the chaser of cranberry juice almost as soon as it went down.

It didn’t matter though. How you took a shot was just style points. At a party surrounded by onlooking strangers? You’re going to need maximum style points for that. At a bar with some friends? Depending on the friends, style points were still important. At home just trying to get drunk? Style wasn’t the point. Besides, Logan wasn’t a drinker so his reaction to straight shots was bound to be expected.

“Oh, yeah, this is gonna suck.” Damien took a sip of his own chaser. “Ready for another round?”

Sometime after the second shot, Logan started getting a little more touchy. He placed hands on Damien’s shoulders, his arm, Patton was sure there was even a thigh at some point. And Damien was all grins and flirty compliments. Patton knew Damien’s drunken states pretty well. He flirted with anyone that wasn’t a brother of his and generally had his charisma cranked up to ten. On the flip side, he also acted like moody a sixteen-year-old. So, really, drunk Damien was just sober Damien with even less of a filter. Logan’s drunk states, on the other hand, were new territories.

By the third shot, Logan was mostly giggles. He and Damien tried to have their usual debates (also known as a normal conversation for them), but they dissolved into Logan laughing over something vaguely related and Damien testing out a pick-up line based on the topic. On the fourth, Logan kissed Patton and called him “the most beautiful man in the world”. Damien got comically offended and insisted that Logan was breaking his heart. Logan laughed, cradled Damien’s face, and called him beautiful too. As soon as the fifth went down, Logan was completely plastered. He put all his weight against Patton with a loose hand around Damien’s wrist. He started talking about how great everyone was, though he struggled to find more than three adjectives and slurred all his words.

“Nope, that’s enough.” Patton tried to take the bottle out of Damien’s hands when he went to pour another shot, but he couldn’t move with Logan at his side.

Remy took the initiative. “Unfortunately, I have to agree. Logan can’t handle anymore.”

Damien pouted and put his head in his hand. “Boo.”

“That actually took a bit longer than I expected,” Emile admitted softly.

“Yeah -- damn, Logan.” Remy put the cap back on the bottle. “For someone who doesn’t drink you sure held out for a while.”

Logan held up a peace sign.

“Okay, I think we better get going.” Patton lifted Logan to his feet. It was a bit harder than it sounded due to Logan’s apparent lack of bone structure. He refused, or maybe simply couldn’t, move or stand on his own. He kept all his weight on Patton the whole time.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Emile wrangled another bottle out of Damien’s hands. “Stop. Any more and you’ll be asking Logan to marry you.”

Damien snorted. A lazy grin slithered on his face. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Patton frowned, holding Logan a little closer to his side.

Emile sighed -- an annoyed, almost aggressive sound. “Yeah, okay. Come on. We’re done for tonight.” He dragged Damien into the kitchen, ignoring how he almost face planted.

“Ignore him.” Remy shook their head like a disappointed parent. They gave Patton a small smile. Not a grin or a smirk -- a gentle, genuine smile. “Anyway, want some help? Seems like you could use it.”

“That would be nice, actually.”

Logan clung to Remy like a koala to a tree almost as soon as all his weight was transferred over. Right away he started saying all the great things he thought about them and the good things they did. Remy just nodded and agreed while gently coercing him into a better walking position. Patton silently apologized and opened the front door.

On the short walk to the car, everything Logan said was followed by a soft, “I know, Logan.” or an, “Uh-huh.” much like someone would do when they’re half-listening to a child while focusing on another task. Patton would argue that the comparison was more than apt since most of the stuff Logan said seemed to be the first draft.

Patton opened the passenger side door and Remy helped Logan in. They went to close the door, but stopped when Logan said, “I love you.”

They laughed, borderline composed giggles, and responded, “Love you too, pal.” They shut the door. Logan waved at them through the window, and they gave him a little wave back. “Wow, he is fucking trashed.” They turned to Patton with a wide grin. “I’m surprised he’s still conscious.”

“Guess we’ll see how long that lasts.” He looked at Logan, who gave him a bright beam. “I should go before his body realizes he hasn’t thrown up yet.”

“Oh, yeah. Drive safe.”

“Will do.”

Almost as soon as Patton got in the car, Logan blurted out, “If you could drive straight up at sixty miles an hour, it would take an hour to get to space.”

Patton didn’t even have the door closed yet. “W... what?”

He repeated it a little slower, though that seemed to leave a lot more room for errors and slurring. “If you could drive your car up-ards it would take an hour to getta space.”

He blinked. “That’s, uh, that’s really interesting, bumblebee.” He shut the door. “Could you maybe put on your seat belt before telling me more facts? Unless you need some help.”

“M’not five.” Despite his statement, Logan struggled with the necessary coordination for an absurd amount of time. After failing to get the buckle in the right spot (following an embarrassing number of attempts), he gave up with a small pout. “I can’t do it.”

Patton smiled a bit. He looked like a grumpy toddler. “Let me help, hon.” He buckled him in.

Once they started driving, Logan did not stop talking. He told Patton he loved him five different times, asked nonsense questions followed by silly answers, and pointed out whatever he saw looking out the window. He also insisted on having a hand near Patton at all times despite Patton saying he needed to focus on driving. He was so much more open and bubbly and touchy -- very touchy. A near 180 of sober Logan.

They only had to stop for him to throw up on the side of the road once, which was a lot more impressive than the first time Patton ever got drunk. At least from what friends told him. He didn’t remember anything about that night, but he was told that he threw up several times before ever reaching his apartment. To be fair, he was eighteen at the time and trying to impress someone cute. He didn’t remember if it worked or not.

After his little vomit issue, Logan was a bit less energetic. Understandably so. Throwing up always sucked. But throwing up after a night of drinking was even worse. It didn’t stop him from saying how much he loved Patton, though.

When Patton pulled in the driveway, he cursed under his breath. He forgot about Thomas. With Logan drunk out of his mind and extremely pliable, there was no doubt Thomas’s protective older brother instincts would take over. Patton tried to figure out what to say that wouldn’t result in his head on a pike.

“Come on, hon.” He helped Logan out of the car. Once again, all of his weight was against Patton. “Your brother’s gonna kill me for this, isn’t he?”

There seemed to be a magic word in there that caused Logan’s energy to return tenfold. A large grin split across his face and Patton could have sworn there were stars in his eyes. “Thomas is here.”

Okay, Logan getting excited to see Thomas was actually pretty cute. Patton smiled. “Yeah, baby, Thomas is here. Did you wanna see him?”

Logan nodded, almost cartoonish in nature.

“Let’s get inside, then.” While Patton wasn’t at all prepared to see Thomas, he couldn’t deny Logan what he wanted. That would just be cruel.

He struggled to open the door with Logan hanging off of his arm, but he managed. Thomas was laying on the couch watching Parks and Rec on a low volume. His attention diverted from that rather quickly. Almost right away, he was on his feet to reach Patton and Logan. Patton didn’t know why he was surprised. He had to admit that it was a little obvious Logan wasn’t his top-notch self.

Logan detached himself from Patton and all but collapsed into Thomas’s arms before anyone had a chance to say anything. “Thomas,” he said, a little too loud, “you’re amazing. You’re the best -- best brother I could ever ask for. And I... I love you so much.” He squished Thomas’s face with his hands. “I apre... pre-shate all you ever done. You’re so ‘mazing. I owe you so much. You a’ways make me ‘appy a-and you stick by me no matter what. You’re -- you’re just really great.” He gave him a tight hug.

Thomas stared at Patton, dumbfounded. “What... did you do to him?”

Patton held his hands up in defense faster than he could blink. “This was his own doing. I played no part in it.”

“Damien and I took shots,” Logan answered, partially muffled by Thomas’s shoulder.

“You did what?” Thomas pulled him away to look at his face. “How many did you take?”

“Five,” Patton answered. He knew full well Logan lost track.

“Five?” Thomas struggled to keep his voice down. He cradled Logan’s face. “Logan, you don’t drink. What are you doing taking five shots? Shots of what?”

“Mostly vodka.”

If Thomas’s eyes could get wider, they would have. “Vodka? Straight? Dude, how the hell are you still standing?” He checked over Logan as if the answer would be there somehow. “Why would you do something like that?”

Logan shrugged. “Damien wanted’ta get drunk.”

Princess Leia wandered into the living room, shaking herself out of her sleepiness. Her tail wagged as soon as she saw that her other owners were home.

Logan gasped loudly. “There’s my baby.” He fell to his knees to give her attention. “You’re such a good girl. Yes, you are.” He continued to coo and give her pets and scratches.

“I’m... I’m gonna scream. I’m going to actually scream.” Thomas ran his hands down his face. “There’s no way I’m leaving.”

“Leia, no. Go back to the boys.” Patton pried Logan away from her. “Go. Now.” He pointed out the doorway.

She obeyed after visible hesitation.

Patton worked on lifting Logan to his feet. “Look, I’m going to keep an eye on him. You’re free to stay if you want, but I promise I’m going to make sure he’s okay.” He kept him at his side. “I won’t let anything happen to him. He’ll be fine if you leave.”

Thomas crossed his arms. Patton recognized the face he made almost immediately. It was the same one Logan made when he weighed all possible options. That hard, calculating gaze was something they shared well. “Fine. But I’m calling first thing in the morning.”

Holy shit. He actually agreed? This was the greatest achievement of Patton’s life.

“If I find out anything happened, I’m pushing you down a flight of stairs.”

“If anything happens, I’ll fall down the stairs myself.”

Thomas smirked a little. “I’ll hold you to it.” He patted his pockets to see if he had everything. “Alright. The twins were lovely, as usual, and I look forward to the next time I get to see them. Goodnight -- keep my brother safe,” he pointed at Patton, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Logan sounded like a sad little boy who was told he couldn’t get the one toy he wanted for Christmas.

Thomas sent him a small smile. “I’m afraid so, bear. Patton’s going to be looking after you, okay?” He brushed Logan’s bangs to the side and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

Logan watched him go with the most disappointment Patton had ever seen on his face. He half expected Thomas to change his mind because of it.

“Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to get you some water then you’re going straight to bed.” He led them to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Logan had to throw up one more time. Or a few times, rather. That seemed to be the end of the fun alcohol adventure. Patton made sure he was finished before giving him more water. On their way to the bedroom, Patton was stopped by a sleepy voice.

“Dad?” Roman called. He sounded half-asleep. “S’everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Your daddy’s just a little sick. Go back to sleep.” He made sure there wouldn’t be any more questions before continuing. He closed the door to the bedroom so Leia wouldn’t get in. As much as Logan loved to have her in here, she wouldn’t be very helpful.

He helped Logan into a clean shirt and guided him to bed. “I’ll be next door if you need something, okay, dear?” He slipped off his glasses. “Get some sleep.”

“Don’t.” Logan caught his wrist before he could leave. “Can’t you stay?” He looked at Patton with such vulnerability it sort of hurt to see.

“Only if you want me to.”

“Please.”

God, Patton couldn’t say no to that face. He slipped into his side of the bed for the first time in way too long. Of course the one night he’s allowed back is the one night Logan isn’t fully cognizant of his actions. In a way, it was almost poetic.

Logan buried his face into Patton’s chest almost immediately. He sighed in contentment, one arm thrown over Patton’s waist for good measure.

Patton hesitated before bringing him closer. The anxious part of his brain insisted that Logan would somehow snap out of this and scream at Patton to get away from him. After all, Logan didn’t invite him back sooner for a reason. But that didn’t happen. Logan seemed more than happy to be so close.

“You know,” he began, already sounding sleepy, “I love you a lot. Maybe too much. You could hurt me all you want and I’d still take you back. If you say sorry. And maybe that’s bad, but I think that’s what I would do. I love you too much to let you go.”

Oh, no. Oh, Logan. Patton kissed the top of his head and tried not to break down into tears. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. He hoped, maybe, it was some sort of drunken nonsense, but he had a sickening feeling it wasn’t. He hated knowing this. He hated knowing that the crap he pulled -- that stupid, idiotic mistake that broke Logan’s heart -- wouldn’t have been the nail in the coffin of their relationship. As angry as Logan was, as upset as he was, he always planned to give Patton a second chance. It wasn’t comforting to know that.

If Patton was a lesser man than he already was, he would have used that to his advantage. He would have screwed Logan over, again and again, knowing he would be able to come back if he acted sorry enough. But someone already did that before, didn’t they?

Patton didn’t want to be anything like that person. He wanted to be as far away from them as he could get because Logan deserved someone so much better than that. Maybe the person he deserved wasn’t even Patton at all, but Patton was the person he chose. The least he could do was be a good husband. Logan deserved that and a million more things. He deserved to think more highly of himself, for one. One problem at a time, though, the most immediate problem would be the hangover tomorrow.

Patton woke up with a start. 

For a moment, he didn’t believe he was in his bedroom, but then he recalled the night before. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He still had his clothes and glasses on. Then he noticed he was alone. Before he could come up with a possible scenario, he heard throwing up in the bathroom. Uh oh. It wasn’t even morning yet.

He hurried down the hall. “Are you okay, bumblebee?” He asked from the doorway.

Logan glared at him from his hunched-over position. That answered that, then.

“Is Daddy okay?”

Patton turned to see Virgil, asleep on his feet. “What are you doing up?”

“I lost rock paper scissors.” He yawned.

“Daddy isn’t feeling well tonight. He’ll be fine --” he caught himself before he said ‘tomorrow’. There was no way in hell Logan would be functional tomorrow -- “later. Now go back to sleep. I have it handled.”

Virgil didn’t need to be told twice.

Patton sat with Logan until he finished throwing up. He knew from experience what a miserable time this was, but that also meant he knew how to make it more manageable. He gave Logan things to settle his stomach then practically carried him back to bed. They both fell asleep in no time at all.

When morning came, Patton called out of work. He also called Thomas to take the twins and Princess Leia. There was no way he was leaving Logan’s side today. Judging from the late-night vomiting, and heavy sleeping, this would be a rough first hangover. He decided to sit in bed and scroll through random apps until Logan decided to wake up.

“Oh my God,” Logan groaned. He rolled over so his face would be in his pillow.

Patton couldn’t help the smirk that played at his lips. “Well, good morning, sleeping beauty. How do you feel?”

“I think I’m dying.”

“I can assure you you’re not.” He put away his phone and laid back down. “It’s just a hangover. You’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Logan groaned again. He moved his head to look at Patton. “How do you never feel like this after drinking?”

“Years of practice.”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely not getting that.” He flipped over and threw an arm over his eyes. “That’s the last time I drink anything ever.”

Patton smiled in amusement. “How much do you remember?”

“Honestly? I blacked out after the second shot.”

“That explains why you kept going.”

Logan shot up, eyes wide. “I kept going?” That clearly wasn’t the right move. He grimaced and curled in on himself, a wounded sound leaving his throat. “Why the hell didn’t you stop me?”

“Do you really think I’m in a position to stop you from doing anything?”

“Fair point.” Logan laid back down as slowly as possible. “God, this is the worst.” He bumped his fingers against Patton’s.

“Well,” Patton took his hand, “I’m here to help you through it.”

~~~

@actitus-hypoleucos

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Don’t Praise the Almighty (Part 1)

Also on AO3

hold on to your hats everyone - this is part one. i was going to put them together, then i realised part two is 6000 words and thats just too long 

TW for: implied abuse of all kinds, straight-up physical and emotional child abuse, gaslighting, all might if he was a terrible person.

TL;DR: 

Things you must sacrifice to make a hero: Humanity, Empathy.

Things you must sacrifice to be a hero: Everything.

izuku wants to be a hero, imagine the first ep happens etc. yagi doesnt so much say "you can be a hero" as "ill make you a hero"

an aside: inko is an absent parent, to make ends meet and a poor way of coping with a missing Hisashi. Izuku grows up without any positive adults figures in his life.

yagi makes izuku train and train and train, the kid’s hands bleed and his legs ache but allmight makes him keep going. allmight says he's useless and pathetic and a crybaby and izuku believes him, because he's allmight

they spar and yagi just holds back enough to not let izuku get hurt too badly to train. even katsuki is disturbed bc quirkless deku is coming to school with black eyes and swollen wrists

when katsuki calls him pathetic izuku just nods

"ill get better though"

and katsuki feels so gross he doesnt try to fuck with izuku for weeks

and so izuku is so convinced this is normal because katsuki does it, and mum does it, and now allmight? thats just how you treat kids he thinks. or quirkless ones at least

hes still a big fan of allmight because he doesnt see whats wrong. hes just pathetic and useless but then he'll get a quirk and he'll be worth something for the first time in his life

he barely sleeps, barely eats, just trains and studies and trains some more. he collapses. all might stands there until izuku gets back up and makes him keep running

reasons all mights like this

he is 1, suffering from internalised quirk discrimination

2, nana's dead bc she wasn't "strong enough"

3, he thinks he can shape izuku into the perfect selfless hero, and better person than he ever was.

hes convinced this is for the greater good. hes a dick but hes so sure hes in the right here

by the time of the entrance exam izuku is,,, kinda fucked up

he passes with flying colours because he used his quirk for the first time, broke his arm, and immediately moved on to snaping finger after finger. the teachers watched on, horrified as this child mutilated himself to get points

all might smiled. because this is what he wanted.

he saves ochacco too

he gets in and allmight is pleased with him, even more pleased than the time izuku admitted he hadn't slept for 72 hours and still got a perfect score on his test

and izuku thinks this was all worth it to see his hero smile at him

izuku is in 1A

izuku actually listed that he feels less pain due to his quirk, which aizawa believes but hes still not sold on the idea of a hero that destroys themselves. he doesnt know if izuku heals better or faster, but he's sure that may broken bones cant be good

aizawa is convinced he's going to expel izuku during the quirk test. the look he sees on izuku’s face when he says he's expelling the lowest scorer makes his stomach churn

because all of the other kids look worried, nervous

izuku looks like hes going to throw up.

the kid is trembling and pale and aizawa watches as he turns to ochako, smiles brightly and says "let's do our best" while he holds back full body tremors the other kids don't see

he breaks toes and fingers and he cries but he doesn't flinch at the pain

the only time he flinches is when someone looks him in the eyes, if someone speaks too loud, and at the firecracker pops of katsuki's quirk

and aizawa feels sick

the ball toss, he just can't watch this kid break anymore, and he stops his quirk

for a second he freezes, because this kids quirk manages pain, he'll be feeling all of those broken bones, he'll obviously notice

right?

but izuku doesnt notice his missing quirk until he throws the ball. he turns around, looking sick. aizawa feels so lost when he looks at him with pure relief

"oh, you're eraserhead"

izuku tears up for the first time in that class.

"please give me back my quirk"

aizawa feels so lost he blinks, and his quirk drops with it. there is something totally wrong about the utter relief the kid feels having this horrifically damaging quirk back, and there is something bothering aizawa about it, but he doesn't know what

"dont use your quirk for the rest of this test, kid. not unless you can use it without breaking something"

izuku nods but aizawa knows the kid will just try to hide it. he takes him by the shoulder when the others have moved on

"i mean it, midoriya. no quirk, or i'll expell you on the spot"

and izuku just looks so lost

"but, i have to? i'm-"

"you didn't flinch when i took your quirk. you can feel every broken bone, can't you?"

izuku just nods, like walking with broken toes is normal, like throwing a ball with broken fingers is easy. aizawa knows it's not

he just sighs.

"no quirk. we'll work on training it after. you're ahead enough not to fail the course, go to recovery girl now. you aren't expelled"

izuku just looks hurt

aizawa shoos him away and almost misses the thin form of all might slink out from behind the wall to follow izuku

he's worried, and confused. But he can't just, abandon a field of kids

he texts hizashi bc that's just who he texts when he's panicking, and he asks him to look out for smallmight and izuku, somewhere on the way to the infirmary. so present mic turns on the first movie he finds on his computer (an english language copy of rocky) yells "ENGLISH PRACTISE TIME" and runs out the door

1C is so lost

anyway, present mic can be quiet when he tries and when he hears the sound of allmight sternly talking to a student that's crying? he tries real fucking hard

he basically catches

"you're supposed to be stronger than this, why did he make you stop?"

"he saw my bones breaking-i couldnt-"

"and so you flinched? didn't we train?"

"i didnt flinch! he made me stop!"

allmight backhands him

"dont waste it. either get better at hiding it or learn to use your quirk without breaking bones quickly or ill find another successor. one that isn't useless."

present mic hears izuku agree and cry and he feels ill. he sneaks back a little further, then loudly walks down the hall. allmight smiles at him, and he wants to punch the man

izuku smiles at him too, tears in his eyes but like he's happy to see another hero. present mic cant understand why izuku is pressed so close to a man that hurt him, like he's more afraid of present mic than allmight

he walks with them to recovery girl, chatting like he was meant to be there. hes so grateful allmight is new, because he totally has a class he's meant to be teaching right now and that would be so suspicious if he knew his schedule 

he walks them all the way to the door, and he lingers. there is a touch of steel in his eyes when he tells allmight to take care because what he really means is "take care of yourself because i will not"

and hes halfway down the corridor before he freezes

why did izuku seem so comfortable with a man he shouldn't know

anyway present mic is having a quiet breakdown for 20 seconds before he sprints back to his class, pretends he never left, and panic texts aizawa

so aizawa, with a little great context, knows that that, particular, conversation wasn't as,,, unsavoury,,, as it could,,, be implied,,,

but like,,,,,, he's really lost on why izuku would know small might and he's very worried

bakugo is fuCKinG PisSed

izuku left?? and he wasn't expelled???

Any,,, unsavoury implications arent something I'm going to talk ab in this au bc it doesn't need to be worse,,, but it's very much intentional

so aizawa is having an actual moral crisis rn bc hizashi isn't a liar and he doesn't want to like, not believe when he saw. but really? the symbol of peace is terrible??? and hizashi doesn't want to believe it either. both of them as so sure they are just missing context or something

bakugo stalks up to recovery girls office after class bc wtf deku?? and he walks in to just see izuku blankly picking at new white scars

he actually perks up when katsuki enters

and there is this man standing over izuku. this man he's seen with izuku before, yelling at him, but someone izuku seems happy to be around. it's not deku’s dad, he knows that. and the guy is too blonde and tall to have literally any relation to him.

a lot of the fire in katsuki goes out when he sees how tired izuku looks, and the question he was going to yell becomes more of a mumble

"so, you have a quirk now? just like that?"

he looks up and he sees that man's hand on izuku's shoulder, curled like a claw, so tight it must hurt. but izuku doesn't flinch or shy away, he smiles softly

"i'm really lucky, huh kacchan?"

and as much as izuku looks like he believes it, katsuki has the strongest feeling that this is the worst possible thing that could have happened to his once-friend

he just leaves

and he almost runs straight into his new teacher. they lock eyes and even though katsuki doesn't know whats going on, aizawa doesn't know whats going on, they both just know something is happening

and its not good

but what can they do

hes the symbol of peace

recovery girl is 100% in denial bc she new baby toshi and he's a dork but he's a good boy

izuku gets knocked tf out by recovery girls heal and toshi carries him out of the school grounds and shes like "how cute"

honestly they get to they gate, he wakes izuku up and reminds him to run home to get in the extra cardio, and izuku does. all the way home.. not only bc yagi wanted him to, but that's a big bit but bc if he was late hed wouldn’t get dinner

so the battle trial

so aizawa is like,,, : | ab everything

so he attends the battle trial rather than take the nap he really fucking wanted

the kids come out in their costumes and something sits poorly about the way izuku positively preens at almighty compliments. so basically it goes like the show, but allmight doesnt try to stop Bakugo. aizawa doesn't have audio, but he sees what the kids see and rips the mic out of allmights hand to tell bakugo to stop

he doesnt have to, though

because izuku has already vanished from sight

bakugo looks lost, aizawa is worried, but allmight just looks smug because a second later, izuku drops from the ceiling where he swung up, and punches bakugo in the back of the head

allmight grins and it looks nasty

izuku gives bakugo a once-over to make sure hes ok, wraps his wrists, then puts him in the recovery position and scampers out of the room to ochako

aizawa is lost, because that is c l e a r l y combat training. from the back of the room, todoroki starts watching in earnest

with ochako, he grabs the bomb. they walk out of the exercise and all might congratulates them on winning and izuku looks so happy! but allmight isn't done

"young midoriya, why didn't you use your quirk?"

the only people that notice the way he pales are todoroki and aizawa

"sorry sir, i didn't want to disappoint mr aizawa"

allmight nods, and he smiles but aizawa doesnt like it

"thats ok my boy, we'll have to see about getting you some out of class quirk training, huh?"

izuku smiles. hes happy, but he looks panicked

he looks guilty about being afraid

aizawa silently tells his agency he needs the week off to investigate something personal, and they readily give him the time off

izuku mumbles happily to himself about the exercise, stilling when all might looks gazes with him. he stops, flushes, and apologises. allmight nods.

he begins again, but hes not mumbling anymore, hes speaking clearly and concisely with the other students, even though he doesnt want to talk to them, he just wants to think. but allmight says to talk clearly to everyone or to remain silent and he just wants so badly to talk about the exercise

todoroki looks between izuku and allmight and he wonders

USJ time baby

allmight uses up his time, like before

the difference is, when the nomu comes for aizawa? izuku doesnt hesitate to jump in. thats what allmight wanted. he wanted someone so selfless that "would i give my life for them" isn't even a question that would cross their mind, they would just move

izuku stalls. he's shivering and shaking, walking on broken toes but he stands between aizawa and the nomu and he smiles

shigiraki looks at izuku and doesn't see a hero in training. he sees someone like him, like his league. someone who has be stepped on and ruined and reborn

and he wants him

when he sees something he likes, he wants it. like his sensei and his quirks. shigiaki collects people like action figures to use how he likes

anyway, he sees this little 'hero' and for all his stubbornness he knows he won't get izuku today

so he does what his sensei did to him all those years ago

he shows kindness. just enough to break him

he looks izuku in the eyes and says

"hero society is so rotten they break children into weapons to fight other broken pieces. whats fair about that?"

and izuku looks stunned. he drops his smile.

"from one broken piece to another, i wont shatter you today."

kurogiri moves izuku and aizawa just outside of the usj

they cant get in, aizawa has no quirk to break through the walls and izuku is shell shocked

he takes a second to look at aizawa like his world is falling down and aizawa understands.

and then

allmight appears

and aizawa hates himself for how relieved he feels

allmight looks at izuku and izuku smiles so wide. and then he frowns

"they want to kill you"

"they aren't the first, my boy."

and izuku pauses

"they seem pretty sure they can, sir."

and allmights smile looks meaner

"what, you really think so little of this old man?"

and izuku shakes his head violently

"not at all! no, im sorry-"

allmight looks at his student and suddenly there isnt a wall anymore, blasted into tiny shards by allmight’s punch. izuku scrambles inside after him

aizawa tells him to stay outside, to stay safe. but allmight levels a glare at him that almost hurts to meet. aizawa cringes and rushes after them, cradling broken arms

the fight ends much the same, but upon seeing izuku in the way on his hand, shigiraki closes his fist

allmight doesn't miss that

and, with that the other teachers arrive. and again, present mic and aizawa wonder why izuku knows allmight small form

oh also just as a weird powerplay thing, allmight calls izuku by his first name in private while izuku calls him sir everywhere

aizawa has the worst of the injuries, but years of sleep deprivation mean he can pretty easily resist the call of sleep after recovery girls quirk. not that anyone knows that. so he hears the edges of a conversation between hero and student

he hears sobs and a slap and apologies from both parties. he hears a louder conversation on training after class to better use izuku’s quirk and aizawa decides he's going to force himself into this 'training' because he doesnt like the optics on any of this

allmights angry that the villains were fond of izuku, bc that means izuku was doing something wrong, right? and he's also angry izuku barely used his quirk, but he does kinda understand needing to be able to walk still

anyway in the training we get the joy of a creepy scene of yagi assessing the physique of a barely dressed izuku

aizawa isn't there yet and boy howdy does he feel ill when yagi walks out of the changing rooms a few minutes before izuku does

anyway so it doesn't take long for yagi and aizawa to get izuku using his quirk w/o achy breaky bones and izuku is proud, and so is aizawa

but yagi just kinda pipes in with "about time" and izukus face crumples

aizawa just says "better late than never" and izuku gives a watery smile

yagi scares enji but he just royally pisses off todoroki

bc todoroki just looks at the guy

"big strong me, what you gonna do, punch me? yeah right bastard and i'll go screaming to the press. I dont give a fuck what you think you dick of an old man!"

please izuku is totally convinced that this is just normal training, that yagi is doing his best and a teacher, is doing right by him. and shouto is just,,, he doesnt know the whole story. just knows that all might scares izuku and that all mights secretary has a connection to him

but he knows that yagi was creepy enough to make his old man have bad vibes and thats an achievement

Enji sat, reigning back a snarl as the green boy threw Shouto -his Shouto- from the ring, to land on his back in a graceless cloud of dust. Beside him, All Might’s secretary grinned. It wasn’t a nice grin, like the hero, but a nasty crawling one that made Enji feel cold even with his flames dancing around his face.

Enji had never liked the man, his instincts telling him there was something horrifically off about him. But the number one hero had resources he couldn’t dream of, so he kept his lips shut.

“Well done, my boy.”

There was no familial resemblance between the skeletal man beside him, and the boy who stood both victorious and broken where his son should have been. No resemblance to the hulking oaf of a hero either. But their quirks were markedly similar, as were their smiles, if the boy’s was a little kinder.

The man turned to him, all polite smiles and condolences for his son’s loss.

The smug aura around him so strong that Enji allowed himself, for just a second, to pity the boy in green.

Its just tenya and todoroki who know

and quickly bakugo too, bc he was there for shoutos tragic backstory reveal, which included izukus too

and like,,, mic and aizawa are in denial bc jesus christ its the number one hero and hes normally so nice

izuku v katsuki babey!

basically izuku starts to panic and bakugo stops the fight and grabs his hand

"pull yourself together deku. forget everyone else, this is just a fight between me and you, go it?"

and izuku gives a shakey smile, and nods. bakugo releases his hand

"lets start this again, huh izuku"

"sure thing kacc-. Katsuki"

and then fiGHT and its great and its a tie bc they are both so fucking exhausted. izuku and bakguo have to get hauled to their feet by midnight, but both of them are grinning

izuku has trouble w his hero name, like, a l o t bc everything he comes up with yagi says no

but yagi wont give him any ideas eventually izuku just ends up with his hero name being "nine" bc yagi liked that one

katsuki can just,,, tell izuku doesn't like it (bc it reduces him as a hero down to his quirk)

(he wants the name jackrabbit)

he has no supports in his costume bc "it makes you look weak" and no support gear either

ok so , his bones are less fucked than canon zuku but hes willing to break them fucking constantly

aizawa actually comes up to him before the sports festival and says "you break your bones, you get disqualified. no excuses"

yagi is p i s s e d but just nods politely to aizawa tells izuku hed better do as aizawa says, as stupid as a request it may be

also izuku really,, wants to paint his nails dumb glittery colours like ochako and mina do so they paint his nails for him! and then at lunch yagi scrubs the polish off with a dish scrubber

to make it worse, mina is sad izuku took it off, but she just

pauses

when she sees his fingers are almost bleeding

"midoriya, what happened?"

"oh haha funny thing, one of our teachers said i might get a uniform violation so i got a little enthusastic with scrubbing it off, sorry!"

aizawa just winces

one of the finals nails in the coffin is todoroki asking if "the tall thin blonde guy" is izukus dad

aizawa says no

todoroki says "good"

s t a i n a r c

so izuku finds iida and steps between iida and stain, starts fighting him, todoroki shows up, stain starts rambling about how allmight is the best hero and todoroki gives him a strange look

"i used to agree. but seeing allmight at school, i dont think hes the icon of morality everyone says"

izuku is spluttering, denying it, stain is just watching them. so stain isnt even fighting them, hes interested. bc this selfless kid is the one shigiraki wants

iida is lost too and he gets this,,, look in his eyes like he's starting to connect some dots

anyway, fight proceeds, they win the nomu tries to carry izuku off, stain stops the nomu and saves izuku and vaguely he realizes the way izuku just, sits in his arms, like he doesnt know how to react to being touched, and he pushes it aside

and he holds izuku close because all he knows is that this boy is kind and good and the world has hurt him and he says that this boy he is holding is the only hero hes ever worth met their salt

oh but after the hero killer thing, yagi storms into the office and hauls izuku out by his injured arm

and tenya and shouto just feel sick

"should, should we tell all might? about how his secretary treats midoriya?"

shouto just glares at the half-open door, quiet apologies drifting down the hall until they turn another corner

"i'm quite sure that man already knows."

[amorrdemiel]

I am ready for cherry pie.

I was trying to write this in my journal, but sometimes the feelings want to come out faster than my little hand can scribble so I came here to frantically type it all out. 

I asked God to walk deeper into the Garden of Life. Earlier this summer, I knew I had found Heaven, I felt myself forgiven, I felt everyone forgiven, I felt us all to be love. But what I thought was living in Heaven was actually just the entrance, and I comfortably pulled up a chair to gaze lovingly at its doors lol, and I realized I could actually walk within.  But I was afraid. I asked God for the courage and the clarity to walk deeper into the joy of life. And I heard her joy calling me, a song just for me.  I heard her calling me to music, to sit at my piano keys and play. I heard her calling me through day dreams of traveling in a camper van of my own, of watcher her Holy sunrises at different oceans, to gaze at her freckle stars in the night, in deserts I had never crossed before. I heard her call upon the wind of peace, of sleep. I saw her show how gentle life truly was, how it was willing and wanting to caress me, to be caressed.  BUT I still felt fear, and even worse a strange itch overcame me to purposely look for terrible things, things I don’t even want to look at on a regular basis. Wanting to purposely look at murders, at violence, at suffering. And I didn’t understand why. I knew better than to succumb to the itch to seek these things out, I knew it wouldn’t give me wisdom and I felt something strange about the itch. After a really good tarot reading from my sister, she helped me clarify that weird itch to find things horrific.  Joy requires vulnerability, she said. And it is difficult to be vulnerable when you lack trust in life, down to a bone psychological level.  She helped remind me of how when I broke my arm in the summer before third grade, it was a traumatic experience for me that changed the psychology of me forever. I didn’t know this until this week, but apparently because I was a child, they couldn’t give me anesthesia and the two options for my very large break in my arm, was either preform surgery on me while I was very much lucid and awake or rearrange my bones back into place blindly so they wouldn’t have to make a cut on me. Somehow, the best bone doctor in Texas at the time just so happened to be at the hospital in El Paso and he chose to blindly rearrange my bones back into place. and he told my mom and my dad to watch the pain I was about to go through because it would change me forever. My sister stayed too because she is brave and loving and wanted to be there for me, even though she too was just a child. They always tell me about how traumatic it was for them to see me screaming in pain as he was rearranging my broken bones, and I remember just searing pain lmao I just remember it being hours of pain, as they made me twist my arms for X-Rays, and when they kept twisting my arm to put my bones back into place. Truly painful lmao  BUT point of the story is, I used to be a very active child before that, I was always running, playing music, I was always smiling and happily in my garden, I was a straight-A student in GT. And after that I wasn’t, and all the details to me don’t matter any more. (EVEN THO, I felt a little upset that my mom remembered how the doctor told her that I would be changed forever and my parents STILL screamed at me for hours when I stopped getting straight A’s, and couldn’t focus anymore. if the doctor told you I was changed forever, how come you still screamed at me for hours because I got a C? how come you literally told me: When you broke your arm, something got damaged in your brain, you must have hit your head and scrambled something, so try really hard to think what happened and change it, just change it. Go back to how you were. IDK I FEEL LIKE THAT KINDA CONTRIBUTED TO ME CUTTING AND HITTING MYSELF OUT OF FRUSTRATION, WOULDN’T YOU THINK? Like my sister summarized it the best, which was that they were holding me accountable, a child, for understanding the trauma I went through and working through it just so I could get the grades they wanted me to get. -___- BUT WHATEVER I AM LEARNING TO FORGIVE THEM FOR WHAT THEY COULDN”T UNDERSTAND THEN.) The beautiful thing I rather focus on, is after reminding me of this, my mom and my sister both cried and hugged me for a good solid ten minutes and kissed me, and told me that I don’t have to feel afraid anymore, that life isn’t what I feared it to be anymore, and that I am free and can be vulnerable to joy, and that is truly what I rather focus on than the past parents that didn’t know how to cope with what I had gone through.  My sister also reminded me of how I conveniently forgot how earlier this year I went to see a physical therapist finally for my knee which hurt me a lot and made me feel like I couldn't go hiking or any of the adventurous things I wanted to do bc it hurt too much and he straight up told me that it was all PSYCHOLOGICAL. Which was super wild for me to hear, because I think he’s right! lmao.  It reminds me of when I was a child, and I used to run out in my little garden in the sun all the time, and how sometimes I was suddenly forced to stop because I couldn’t move without feeling a lot of pain, and I would look down at my feet and I saw how all those thorned stickers were on my laces, my socks, my shoes and it hurt too much to move so I was just stuck. (Which makes me feel happy about that dream I once had where a large field beckoned me and I began running in its vastness barefoot, and I remember looking down and seeing a bunch of those thorned stickers and somehow missing every single one, and feeling so free.)  Anyhow, I resolved to allow myself to be vulnerable to go into joy, and that even with this psychological, bone deep memory of trauma happening when I move.  The day before yesterday, my sister made it aware to me that our betta Artemis has fin rot (mild) and I felt so in pain because of it. One thing I could never stand was seeing the people (or animals) I love in pain, and I’ve never acted on this impulse, but the first impulse I have when my sister tells me about a traumatic experience she’s had or I see my animals hurt is to say “NO! That’s NOT how you feel, this isn’t real.” BUt it’s so irrational to me, to say this, that I never act on it but I do have to convince myself by becoming more objective to handle the pain of seeing them in pain.  But I guess I have allowed myself to feel more vulnerable and more sensitive to life (I used to allow myself to be sensitive when I was a toddler but I was just so overwhelmed and my parents would yell at you if you cried so I just capped it.) But I’m letting myself be sensitive, so I did feel angry at my sister initially for telling me that Artemis had fin rot, and I felt very upset, but I let it be there and we researched how to heal it and took immediate action the next day and even though my sister was sensitive about it, and I was sensitive about it, we did a great job at getting everything we needed, staying calm and supportive of one another, and it just always surprises me how much me and my sister haven’t adopted the way my mom and dad do things which is screaming, and panicked and violent. (Well, we worked ourselves out of it through love and patience.)  But as we were driving to the pet store for the second time to get something else to help us out with Artemis’s tank, I told my sister about how allowing myself to feel the pain I felt at Artemis being sick, when I got home from the pet store this morning and went to say hello to my pug before getting started with my sister on deep cleaning his tank and getting salt in it to sterilize the wounds, I felt a much deeper and softer joy at hugging Qipsi and holding her in my arms and I realized that joy came from allowing myself to feel the pain of Artemis. That when I let myself feel the pain, it also let me feel the pull, the desire to tend to his tank, his little body and soul, his water much more diligently and the joy that arose in that, and it let me feel the pull and desire to tend to Qipsi more tenderly, and tend to myself more tenderly. And so pain, allowing the suffering allowed joy as well.  My sister told me about how she read or saw that when you allow yourself to feel the pain, you allow yourself to feel the pathway to the healing of it.  And that just shook me because I never looked at it like that. I always thought pain was useless, or was just to burn your ego, or just frustrating, but I see now how it led to more joy, it led to truer joy. How it led to truthful joy, and I never let it show me the healing. I was so afraid of pain, I never let it show me how to heal, I just hated how I was hurt to begin with. But if I could just focus my attention and the pathway to healing, and to feel the healing, the joy of it.  AND SO, here I stand, on the precipice of fate, on the road I am asking to help guide me to the purpose of my life, the highest good of my life, and I feel I understand what joy and pain truly are.  I asked God to lead me deeper into the garden of life, so that I may understand what I am here to provide, what of my highest good can I give back, and I was given clarity and courage. Clarity to understand the truth behind pain, the way it shines a path to the healing of you and me, to the healing of body and soul and courage to face the vulnerability that joy requires, that pain requires to open you to deeper joy, and so it goes.  I want to play and create and enjoy this sandbox of life. 

And I want cherry pie.