#depends on what I’m feeling

[swordsandholly]

Keep it Casual

NSFW | MDNI

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem.plus size.Reader

cw: injury mention, death mention (in passing - no character death), brief weed smoking

Word count: 3.7k

One-shot/Drabble

Boy loves girl, girl loves boy. They’re not allowed to admit it, though. It’s good, right? All the benefits without any of the commitments. It’s what they both want, right?

Johnny MacTavish is an enigma to you in many ways. You’ve known each other for years - ever since you came over to the UK for Uni. He was in basic training then, out drinking when he approached you. His buddies were brutish and rude, only looking to add a soft American to their list of conquests, but Johnny… he spoke to you differently. Looked into your eyes, listened intently, gave you his full attention and nothing less.

You’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Beyond that, even. You and Johnny are entirely indivisble. Even when he’s gone for weeks, months, at a time, you’re inheretnly interlinked. Whether by phone calls or the matching tattoos you got on your ankles one drunken night, you’re connected.

There aren’t any labels for it. When people ask you default to best friends, but that doesn’t quite encapsulate it. There isn’t a word in the English language for what you have. You’re not partners - you’ve both had plenty of those each, however briefly. Even those always end. You and Johnny can’t be torn apart, though.

You know what the problem is. The reason you both keep it this vague, amorphous thing between you. Labels are frightening. Labels make things real. Labels mean you have to tell other people what you are, that suddenly there are expectations to live up to.

Labels feel like a death sentence in his line of work. Too many lost husbands, partners, lovers.

You lay on your belly in bed, legs kicked up in the air as you engross yourself in a book when the door knob clicks to the side. Johnny has a key to your place, of course, just as you have one to his. You don’t bother to get up. The chain always hangs loose when he’s gone - knowing he’ll come around at any moment. The door would stay wide open if it could, just for him.

You hear a thunk as as he drops his duffle on the ground. He didn’t go home yet, just came straight here. His boots fall on the floor next, then his jacket drops quietly in the hallway as he slowly makes his way to your room - to you.

“Bonnie lass…” Johnny greets, crawling across the bed toward you. He managed to get down to just his standard issue t-shirt and boxer briefs before climbing in. He knows you hate outside clothes on the bed.

“Johnny.” You smile, rolling onto your back as he climbs over you. Your fingers card through his mohawk, tugging gently on the strands curling at the base of his neck. “Need a trim there, bud.”

“Aye.” He chuckles. “Was waitin’ tae see ye. No one does it as good as my girl.”

His girl. Your boy. That’s the closest either of you ever get to tempting fate.

You hum. “How was work?”

Work. That word doesn’t even come close to what Johnny does. You can’t say more - can’t utter the word deployment. Coward.

“Ach no’ tha’ bad this time. Go’ my heid knocked around a bit.”

“So the usual?”

“Oi.” He scoffs in mock offense. “Donnae be rude.”

“I’m never rude.” You snicker, turning over and reaching for the top dresser of your nightstand. “Do you want to roll or me?”

“I think I’ve earned some princess treatment.” Johnny flops back on the bed, a finger hooking in the hem of your cotton panties as you sit up. He always does this when he first gets back - has to have some part of him touching some part of you. Not that you’d ever complain. You need it just as much as him, though you’d die before admitting to it.

Those blue eyes bore into you as you roll. It’s tradition - a celebratory joint when he gets back. Then you’ll binge all the TV shows and movies you saved up while he was gone and order an ungodly amount of take out. Indian. His favorite. Sometimes Johnny will go back to his apartment the next day to get some quiet time, maybe visit his parents, before he has to go back to work on the base but other times he’ll stay with you his whole time back home. Just taking up your space and being so domestic it makes your teeth hurt like too-sweet candy.

You always hope he stays.

“First hit for the guest of honor?” You smile, holding the joint out for him.

“Och, yer a blessing, hen.” His hand is warm as it brushes yours when he takes the joint from you, eyes locked on your own. There’s something intense in his stare that you aren’t used to. It makes you look away, almost shy under his gaze. He coughs suddenly, a harsh burst of smoke puffing from his lips.

You can’t help but laugh at him, “Getting weak lungs, soldier boy?”

“Oh, feck off.” He elbows you gently.

Somehow you’ve already got the giggles. It’s just something about being around him that makes everything feel better - brighter. More lively. Even the colors of your ugly little ashtray (the one you painted terribly when Johnny’s niece insisted the three of you go paint pottery while babysitting) feel so much more clear with him near.

“Oh!” His brows shoot up suddenly, as if he just remembered something direly important. “I got somethin’ fer ye. Be right back.”

You watch him jog down the hall - definietly not staring at his butt, no ma’am - and listen to the sounds of Johnny rooting around through his duffle bag. Your lips quirk up into a smile when he lets out a distant “aha!”

He comes back with a small, velvety box, flopping back into bed beside you and criss-crossing his legs. “There was this little artisan shop in a town we stopped through. The Captain wanted tae get his wife somethin’ an’ I saw this an’ thought of ye.”

The box slips into your hands. It’s small and light. You roll it between your palms a couple times before shaking it with a grin. Before you can make one of your usual silly quips about what might be inside, your eyes meet Johnny’s. They’re on fire, sparkling with anticipation for you to open the little gift. He’s gotten you things before (you actually have a shelf dedicated to his nicknacks from around the world) but this seems… different. There’s a heaviness to his expression that you’re not used to.

You glance between him and the box briefly - opening it slowly. Your eyes turn to saucers as you come face to face with a finely crafted silver necklace. A little four pointed star with a sparkling gem in the middle that looks the same icy blue as Johnny’s eyes. Little flecks of pink and green catch the light as you turn it between your fingers.

“Johnny-“ You gasp, at a total loss for words.

“Ye like it?” He asks with an uncharacteristically nervous pitch to his voice. His palms rub together absently as he glances between you and the necklace in your hand.

“I love it.” You smile softly, heart fluttering as Johnny breaks out in a grin of his own. “Put it on me?”

“Course.” He whispers, pushing your hair to the side and locking the clasp with deft fingers. It hangs perfectly underneath your clavicles, resting between the other jewelry you wear daily.

Those hands linger for a moment, before both slowly brush down over your shoulders. Rough, calloused fingers glide across your skin and leave an electric current in their wake as light kisses trail up your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie.”

You sigh and lean back against his broad chest. “Missed you too.”

Teeth sink into the crook of your neck, pulling a gasp from your lips. Large, rough hands grab and knead your tits through your thin tank top. He plucks at your nipples - rolling them between his fingers as he sucks deep marks into your neck.

You open your mouth to complain about leaving visible hickies but all that comes out is a breathy moan. You run your hands up his thighs on either side of you, dragging your nails across his skin in the way that always leaves him panting.

One hand travels down, grabbing onto the softness of your belly appreciatively before continuing. His fingers glide over your covered pussy, teasing you to gasp and squirm under him. Rough fingers continue to pluck at your nipple, eventually pushing their way under your tank top for better access. A low hiss escapes Johnny’s lips as your breasts fall free of the camisole.

“Fuck, bonnie. Can I taste ye? Please? Need ye so bad.” Johnny groans in your ear. “Please.”

How could you ever say no to him? He doesn’t even have to ask, really.

He repositions you on your back, tucking a pillow under your hips. Ever the considerate type. His fingers hook in your panties, a low, pleased rumble echoing through his chest as he shucks off the soaked fabric.

No matter what he’s doing, Johnny’s eyes always find yours. He could be across the most crowded room in the world and, imminently, they’ll find yours. They crinkle at the sides with his smile that pulls the scar on his chin.

“So pretty fer me.” He murmurs, lowering himself between your thighs as he bites and kisses up the soft flesh between your legs.

Johnny is a lot of things, and a total much is easily near the top of the list. Maybe number one, even. He presses his face into your cunt - mouthing over your clit and dragging his tongue down between your lips. It’s almost more for him, you think, the way he drags his tongue through the crease between your thigh and pussy. You can’t complain - you would be a fool to with the way he absolutely worships your body.

A harsh suck to your clit as your back arching. Strong arms wrap around your thick thighs to hold you down as he devours you.

“Taste so good, lass. Sweet as fuckin’ candy.” He moans against your cunt.

“Johnny!” You gasp, hand tangling in his overgrown mohawk. A low moan pulls out of you as he licks from your back hole to your clit before stuffing his tongue as deep in your pussy as he can. Chants of obscenities and pleading and oh, god, Johnny please you’re so good fall from your lips.

You know better than to try to hide your sounds. If he could he’d devour them just as much as he already does you - inject them straight in his veins to live there forever. Two fingers push into you, the stretch causing you to gasp. Johnny chuckles as you buck into the touch. The fingers curl directly up into that spot inside you as he nips at your clit.

Your climax hits you like a train - stars blooming behind your eyes and your back arching sharply. You’re always so sensitive after he’s been gone. So ready to have him again.

“Thassit, tha’s my good girl.” Johnny kisses up your thigh, working you through your orgasm with his fingers. “Ready fer me, baby? Missed this pretty cunt so bad - thought about her every day.”

You nod excitedly - mind too fuzzy and content to come up with the words to respond. Lazily, Johnny reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom. He knows your home, like you, inside and out. Every nook and cranny might as well be his.

It could be his.

It should be his.

Johnny cups your cheek, kissing you slow and deep. His tongue parting your lips gently before exploring every inch of your mouth. Those rough hands trail down your body with reverence. One going from your cheek, to your sternum, over your belly to sink into the softness of your waist. The other holds tight on your hip as he lines up.

You gasp and moan against each other as he pushes in. The stretch is delicious. Your nails sink into his strong back.

“Practically made fer me, bonnie.” He groans as he moves. It’s slow, languid.

He’s so beautiful. Always has been. No matter how he changes - new hair, new scars, new tattoos - he’s still beautiful. The prettiest man you’ve ever met. You run your fingers through the downey layer of dark hair over his chest - tracing the outlines of his muscles, up over his thick shoulders to cup his cheek.

Your bodies move together easily - a well practiced dance that you’ve perfected over the years.

“Christ.” Johnny gasps into your ear - strong forearms bracket your head, burying you under him. “I lov-“

You turn your head, catching his lips in a kiss. It’s terrible of you, you’re sure, but there’s nothing those words can communicate that a well timed gasp or a perfectly placed caress can’t say better. His nose knocks against yours, your hands travel all over him, seeking out any purchase they can find.

It turns desperate. A clawing need as you rediscover each other for the millionth time. Wet, open mouth kisses against each others skin and bodies moving perfectly in tandem. The light high from smoking leaves your skin warm and buzzing with electricity. It borders on overstimulating - just barely this side of too much.

“Johnny…” You whine, tilting your head back.

“Aye?” He pants, laving at your clavicle. “Gonnae cum f’me? Cream all over my fuckin’ cock?”

All you can manage is a keen, teeth sinking into his shoulder to hide you face form him. A hand tangles in your hair, pulling you down to stare up at him.

“Eyes on me, hen. Want - ah - want ye lookin’ at me when I make ye cum.”

It’s too intense. It always is looking into those baby blues. As if they can see right through to the most buried parts of yourself. Johnny shifts your hips up ever so slightly, the new angle bullying his head against your g-spot with each thrust. Your nails claw across his shoulder blades.

It doesn’t take long before you’re careening over the edge with him, bodies tensing against each other. Clenching down around him like a vice while you gasp for air.

“There she is. Tha’s my girl.” Johnny murmurs against your lips, still rocking into you in short, sloppy motions. Just to drag it out a little longer until you whine at the overstimulation.

You let yourself lay back to catch your breath, floating back to earth while Johnny disappears to toss the condom in the trash. He’s back nearly as fast as he left, pulling you against his chest and burying you both under the soft sheets of your bed.

“Shower?” Johnny whispers into your hair, eventually. You nod against his chest, slowly peeling yourselves apart. Your fingers remain tangled all the way to the bathroom.

He whirls you after you turn on the shower, kissing you slow and deep as you wait for the water to warm up. A warm hand splash across your lower back - keeping you close. You’re left breathless when he finally pulls back, pupils blown so wide in the low evening light that you can hardly see the blue of his eyes.

You sigh to yourself as you step into the shower, grateful that you splurged on the apartment with the especially large bathroom. It definitely wasn’t with Johnny in mind. You’d never make your decisions based around such a nebulous relationship.

Not the size of your bathroom - enough to fit both your wide frame and his broad shoulders.

Not the location of your apartment - only a few blocks from his.

Not keeping his favorite snacks stocked at all times just in case he comes home early.

Not referring to your apartment as his home.

“Lean down a bit.” You smile, pouring a glob of shampoo into your hand for him. Johnny’s always been picky about his hair care. You always make sure it’s on hand in your bathroom.

He does the same for you, of course, when he can, but somehow you both always end up at your place instead. Not that you’d ever complain. You like your place. It’s safe. Warm. A cocoon away from all the parts of the world that have scarred you so deeply.

Johnny groans happily as you scratch his scalp, the quality shampoo cleaning far more deeply than any of that standard issue stuff he gets on deployment ever could. You watch the suds slowly drip down over the lines of his back, breath catching as your eyes settle on a nasty, raised patch of skin you hadn’t seen before.

It looks like a chunk got ripped out of his back, right under his ribs.

“Johnny.” You gasp.

“Hm?” He looks over his shoulder at you, brows raising as he realizes what you’re looking at. “Oh tha’? It’s nothin’. Just go’ a bit knocked around, remember?”

You bite your lip, tamping down the rising fear in your gut. “D-does it hurt?”

“I’m fine, lovie.” Johnny turns, giving you that sparkling, million dollar grin. He knows it scares you, shakes you to the core.

You’ve already lost everyone else in your life, having the ever present threat of losing Johnny as well is too much to handle sometimes. It keeps you up at night, when he’s away, imagining all the worst that could happen to him.

How easy it would be for a simple bullet or knife to shatter your world.

That’s why the two of you keep up this little arrangement. This song and dance at arms length. To spare you. Both of you. Either when he doesn’t come back or you break and run.

You won’t run, though. As much as it hurts, the good is too good to give up. You’ll stay through it all, with just enough distance to keep your sanity.

“Ye with me?” Johnny asks gently, slowly pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Long week.” You lie, leaning up on your tip toes to plant a small kiss in the corner of his mouth.

He hums, turning to meet your lips. You let yourself fall into him, fingers running through the hair on his chest, up to the back of his neck. He just feels right under your hands. Perfectly molded to press up against you - hard muscle to balance out the softness of your body. Angles and curves. Push and pull. Sun and moon.

Holy hell, you’ve become a sap.

“Sit.” You point to the chair you drug into the bathroom and Johnny happily plops down - big, fluffy towels tied around your chest and waist respectively. A content smile settles across his face as you slowly work your way across his scalp with the electric razor. You let your fingers to scrape along after you just the way he likes.

When you were young, you watched your mother cut your fathers hair. It seemed so subservient to you. Shameful, almost. You said you’d die before doing that for any man.

You carefully raise each section of his mo-hawk, cutting it down to the exact length Johnny likes to style it. A little on the short side, actually, so that it has time to grow before looking messy. Shearing the sides and taking extra care around his ears. He doesn’t need any more nicks or scars.

Johnny suddenly looks pensive as he watches you in the mirror - carefully taking in each of your movements.

“You’re worrying.” You murmur.

“I-“ He sighs. “It’s nothin’.”

“Johnny.” You level your gaze on his in the mirror, he looks off to the side.

“I’m just- I cannae-“ He sighs. “I miss ye.”

You snort. “I’m right here.”

Johnny shrugs. For once, he stops talking. You hate when he does. It’s the only true hallmark that something is wrong.

“Johnny-“

“Do ye want tae hear a new Ghost joke?” He interrupts. It’s an out. You’ll let him have it.

“Lay it on me.”

“Whit’s the difference between the bird flu and the swine flue?”

“What?”

“One requires tweetment an’ the other requires oinkment.”

A huffy laugh escapes you despite yourself. “That’s terrible.”

“Aye. Imagine listenin’ tae that in a life or death situation. Could be the last thing I hear!”

You giggle, finishing up with shaping the edges of his hairline. “How is it?”

Johnny stands, leaning close to the mirror and running a hand over his hair. Your eyes lock onto that newly forming scar again. It makes your throat feel tight.

He stretches his arms way over his head with a groan. “Think it’s time f’some proper lazin’ about.”

The rest of the night goes by as they usually do when he gets home. Indian take out, a romcom in the background, another round of fucking. Or two. It’s near eleven when you finally settle into the sheets, Johnny long asleep beside you. Comfortably snoring with that angelic peacefulness you only ever see in his sleep.

Will he look that peaceful if he dies?

The thought makes you want to throw up.

It takes all your mental fortitude to push that train of thought away. Opting to lay beside him, eyes flicking across his features as you attempt to memorize them all. The curve of his strong brow, the arch of his nose, the slight part in his lips as he sleeps. Your thumb traces the scar on his chin while you cup his cheek. As if sensing your current state - and, if you’re honest with yourself, you’re sure he can - a strong arm wraps around you to lock you against his chest. You let your legs tangle, breathing him in and following the pattern of the rise and fall of his chest. Real and tangible under your hands.

You’re just so glad that, at least right now, he’s home.

[just-your-average-cryptid]

most of us have heard of the red car game. you’re on a road trip, you’re bored, you start looking for red cars to do something.

and then they’re everywhere. you notice them nearly every few minutes.

there aren’t suddenly more red cars now, of course. you were seeing them already, but you weren’t noticing. you weren’t looking.

I am noticing things.

there is a plant I notice everywhere now, a small bushy plant in suburbs, along streets, by shops on the highways. dwarf umbrella bush is what the internet tells me when I look for it’s name. I did this because I wanted to know why,

every time I ever saw it, every place,

it was always dying. always the leaves turning yellow, the branches small and scraggly. inside out - nitrogen deficiency. their soil drained.

I am noticing how many of these landscaping plants are yellowing, how small and sickly they look in just a few years. I am noticing how often the grass outside the house is replaced when it once again turns brown and dry, how the type never changes and the cycle starts again. I am noticing how the unmowed, unkempt spaces on lakesides and roadsides look more alive than this. how the preserve I grew up next to was miles of “messy” unmanicured nature and the ground was covered in leaves instead of grass and there was life.

I am noticing the birds that come by the lake. there was a flash of blue wings and red chest - eastern bluebird, male, relatively common. I had never seen one before. there is a family of ducks that appear every spring; i cannot say if it’s successive generations or different ducks, but I can always look forward to ducklings. there are little brown birds with white heads whose names I do not know - are they some kind of piper? why don’t I already know?

why is it so hard to learn about my native plants (accurately, that is)? why are so many gardening sites littered with people who think a plants value is based on how pretty or useful it is to them, who think a tree shedding leaves is “messy”?

why is knowing about the world we live in so… odd? why is it a hobby and not vital knowledge? I learned about polar equations. I taught myself about mycorrhizal networks and species of insects.

(did you know there are shiny green bees? a special species of wasp pollinating figs? that white flowers bloom at night for moths? do you know? have you looked?)

I cannot look at a lawn and see life anymore. it is a wasteland, devoid of life, dying slowly itself. everywhere is grass, grass, doused in water that runs over into storm drains, soaked in fertilizer and pesticides and a hundred other poisons and sending one clear message:

this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.

I do not think I could live in a city. too loud, yes, too busy, yes, too many people, yes, but the plants would bother me. a tree allotted only a convenient square, surrounded by dead stone and metal.

a forest cleared for this, for burning asphalt streets and racing cars and shops whose bathrooms are “for paying customers only”.

this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.

and now I am noticing.

[livelaughlovesubs]

I read this from yours https://www.tumblr.com/livelaughlovesubs/743492538930954240/pitiful-thing?source=share

And i couldn't help reading it due to your amazing writing even if im not really into sadism-, anyway can we have more raphael?a part 2 but can you make it fluffy/sweet if its okay? Thank you!

Hey hey! Thank you for reading it :D and like always, I’m sorry it took so long… anyway, here it is :>

How pitiful

Part one!

Raphael x reader

Word count: 5.9k

This includes: triggering content, angst (aftermath from the first part), mental breakdown? Very toxic, at the end there’s fluff (happy end?), reader is still the same (very selfish)

Okay so, I wanted to make this like fluffy and sweet, and I didn’t manage to do that. I’M SORRY. Cuz I had too many ideas and so the fluff part would only be at the end. Sometimes there are small pieces of it throughout the story, but yea. I didn’t want to stop in the middle of it and make a third part cuz then you wouldn’t get the fluff you wanted, so I’m sorry that you had to wait this long, even then it’s more angst than fluff I’m sorry.

After a while, the corrosive smell started to bother you. Your hands were dyed completely red now. They were sticky and had feathers stuck to them, the blood of the male dried too. For a moment, it felt like you had a hangover. The things you did in the last few hours and the emotions you felt were slowly fading away, leaving nothing but desire behind. All you remembered was a vivid dream akin experience, one where you got to finally feel alive after falling down this deep abyss. The sudden change in environment seems to have influenced you more than you imagined. How you yearned for the screams and cries of him. It has only been a few minutes, yet that feeling, the rush of adrenaline started to disappear like a childhood memory. You didn’t want to forget it, you wanted to keep it sealed within you forever.

Time was passing by like usual, yet for some reason you didn’t seem responsive, as if you weren’t really there. As if you were floating in space, every nerve in your body turned off and your senses dulled. You couldn’t really acknowledge your surroundings, simply at the wall, contemplating and thinking about whatever you did remember. Everything that happened was being replayed in your head like a show, sadly the graphic setting was low and everything was a blur. Except for those crimson eyes of him.

The different expressions his eyes bore were mesmerising, enough to leave its imprint on you. How the once fierce look he owned turned into one of uncertainties, of doubt and fear. Your room looked like the aftermath of a battle. Luckily for you it was at a hotel, so you wouldn’t need to clean it. This wasn’t earth, it wouldn’t matter if the owner sees all of this, the evident of your action, the proof of your true desires. You felt empty again, like the fulfilment you felt before was ran out. The hand on the back of his head moved to his cheeks, moving his face backwards. He has been resting his chin in the crook of your neck the entire time without making a single sound, slowly it got suspicious.

Raphael was breathing very weakly and shallow, apparently he also got a nosebleed. “Hey, wake up.” You muttered, rubbing his cheeks gently. His pale face had blood stains, but his eyes were still closed. Right now he looked very vulnerable, so helpless as if he was someone that needed protection. At the same time he also appeared like an innocent child in your eyes, one that’s been depraved of love. How pitiful he is, being cast aside by his creator and now stuck in the claws of a monster. Since you wore him out a lot, you let him sleep. It didn’t matter if you knew nothing about the anatomy of an angel, if one is exhausted they need to take a break. You laid him down onto the humid mattress before you got up to go to the bathroom.

Now that you cleaned yourself up and got a towel, you started to clean the still asleep male too, wiping the excessive body fluids of him away. It was a little disturbing considering you were the cause of all of this, but you could manage. When you saw the two holes on his belly, where his piercings have been, you gaged a little. The scene turned out to be a bit more grotesque than you remembered. Speaking of memories, it was strange how you couldn’t recall what happened very clearly. After all, it was just happened, as if you weren��t thinking clearly when you did all that. You didn’t regret it though, because if there’s one thing you remembered, then it’s that you loved every second of it. Every action to the words you spoke, you knew you enjoyed yourself a lot. Enough to make you want to go for a second round.

Eventually you finished wiping him, sitting down next to Raphael again. Still so quiet, this wasn’t normal. Your first thought was that he fell asleep, though upon further inspection his face was starting to get pale. Soon you realised that he passed out and sighed, “…not good.” It looked like he lost his consciousness, probably due to the excessive amount of blood he lost. One glance was all you needed to know your hypothesis was right. In the end, you did rip his wings off, not to mention how the bed was now akin to the red carpet. A stressed out groan left you, why were thing always so difficult. Aftercare is great and all, but what should you do if he needs immediate treatment? It’s not like you can carry him all the way to paradise lost. Will today be the day you kill someone for the first time?

Suddenly the door to your hotel room crashed down, and a group of devils barged in. These devils, they really know no manners. Though you were also glad to some degree, because you saw Satan, sitri, and Marbas. “Y/n!” The devil with the white hair ran towards you, but he stopped after taking three steps. Sitri, who was pushing Marbas, followed his king and stopped right next to him. “Solomon, what happened?” That devil asked, his voice was filled with confusion. They must be shocked to see the state the room is in, not to mention Raphael. “I’ll tell you later. Marbas, can you help this guy here? He’s lost a lot of blood.” You looked calm, terrifyingly so, no panic could be spotted in your voice nor did you have a fast heartbeat. “I’ll see what I can do.” Marbas answered after a bit and got out of his binds. When he got close enough to recognise who that was, he hesitated. He still started treating him afterwards, despite the identity of the patient.

“Satan, why are you here?” In all honesty, you didn’t care, and you had a vague idea how they knew your location, but you didn’t want to answer their questions. You weren’t in the mood to right now. “When you disappeared so suddenly, everyone got worried. Then sitri found you.” Nothing you couldn’t guess yourself. “And? Why’s Marbas here?” This time, the devil with the blue hair spoke up, “I heard two heartbeats, and I recognised that the other one was an angel. That’s why.” So they thought you got beaten up or injured, huh, if that’s the case they are pretty late for a rescue operation. “What about you tell us your side of the story now?” It seems like you won’t be able to get out of this one. You noticed that he gritted his teeth again, one look was enough to tell he wasn’t happy. “Well, you see…” “y/n, your majesty Satan and sitri. I’m done, I stopped the bleeding and treated his injuries. Though this won’t be enough, we’ll need to bring him to paradise lost.” In the nick of time Marbas reported his observations and actions, in contrary to what you predicted, you were able to dodge the questions again.

“Why do we need to go all the way there, won’t the hospital in Gehenna suffice?” Satan scoffed, he was getting more furious by the second. First your disappearance, now all the hassle for an enemy. “Because… I believe only his majesty lucifer and gamigin knows how to properly treat him.” Just as Satan was about to inquire about the former seraphim’s injuries, you barged in, “All right, we don’t have much time, no? Shouldn’t we be on the way?” Everything was taking too long, so you interrupted their little small talk and rushed them. In addition, you also walked over to the bed, picking up the white jacket that belonged to his outfit and wrapped him in it. Sitri seems to have finally caught on and helped you carrying him. This was going to be a long night. It was so much hassle just to keep someone alive, maybe you should let him die instead? Was it because of your hardened personality that you weren’t sorry for him, that you didn’t feel any remorse?

It’s been three weeks since Raphael got taken in at the hospital of paradise lost. Your life hasn’t changed much, in fact it reversed back to how it was before your second meeting with him. Today, while you were visiting him, the sleeping beauty finally opened his eyes. It did caught you off guard, so you started to call for the doctor. “You’re [—]. Ah, lucifer, where’s [——]?” His view was blurry, it was like watching black paint spread on a clean paper. Furthermore his head was hurting a lot, as if he had been on a carousel for too long. It was to the point he couldn’t even register your voice properly. “…where…?” The man uttered, it was more like a groan of pain than words. He tried to cover his eyes with his hand due to how bright it was, that’s when he noticed an IV stuck to his arm. “You [—] hospital, if you [——] noticed.” It was still difficult to understand you, but it got better the more he tried. “…is that you, y/n?” Raphael asked and his hand reached out to you, his body acted before he could think about it. You held his hand and intertwined your fingers, then you squeezed his hand. “Yes.” He flinched at that, a little surprised at this sudden gentleness coming from you. This wasn’t how you were like last time, but he didn’t hate it.

A few minutes later lucifer also came into the room, the patient froze upon seeing his former colleague, he also hold your hand more firmly. You didn’t need two brain cells to know they had something to say to each other, so you got up to leave the room. When you stopped holding his hand, he tensed up again, in the end he eventually let go. Were you overthinking it or was he acting differently than before? Nonetheless, you went out to get some food for him. With a bit of discussing and arguing, you got Satan to give you permission to keep him. He did almost die because of you, with that being said you also thought he’d be more wary of you. In the end, you were proven wrong. For the time being you were going to be nice to him, so that he will want to stay, it’d be no good if he runs away. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks of pure boredom. After all that torturous wait, you finally felt an ounce of excitement.

When you got back to his resting place with a bag of to go food, you met lucifer who was just coming out of the room. They must have had a very long talk, was what you thought. You weren’t really curious about what they talked about though, which is why you asked him instead, “can he get out today? He looks healthy enough.” To your surprise the male disagreed, explaining, “he lost his wings, he’ll need physiotherapy.” The confusion was written all over your face like the front cover of a magazine, you said with an irritated tone, “you mean he can’t walk?” “Not good at best.” You should trust the words of a doctor, especially him who has more experience than you, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “But, it’s his wings he lost. He always walked without showing them.” Lucifer was kingly enough to explain it to you, how much patience he must have, “not showing them and not having them are two different things. He’s been used to having wings it for as long as he lived, this sudden change will cause his body to lose balance, because…” he has too much patience for sure, normally you though he was a quiet guy, though it looks like he can talk a lot if it’s his field. Great, now you had to listen to him lecture you about angel anatomy.

A while later buer called for lucifer, he had something to take care of and left you alone. You on the other hand was standing in front of the patient room now, still holding the now cold bag. So he has to stay here for a month, and then continuously visit it to get better. Is this was you want? Slowly your thoughts were getting too complicated, which is why you stepped inside. “You are back.” You saw raphael turn his head towards you. How pitiful he looked, all bedridden like this. “Yea, are you hungry?” That was a very unnecessary question, really, you didn’t know why you just wasted your breath with that one. Nevertheless you got closer and sat down on the chair next to him, then opened the bag and let him look inside. Maybe you should have used the microwave first, if there was one that is. “It’s all for you.” You added, in case he misunderstands anything. His hand reached out to your direction, though instead of the food he grabbed your hand. “…” “…?” This was bizarre to say the least, he didn’t make any sense. Both of you stayed silent, a few minutes felt like days. Why did he do that? You wondered, but before you could ask he let go of your hand again and reached inside the bag. “Thanks.” The male whispered, then bit into his food.

It was awkward, none of you dared to say something about the new promises between you two. The situation already escalated to the point where you couldn’t go back, guess you had to keep your word then. At some point, after he finished his meal, he just stared at his hands clenching the blankets. It looked like he was deep in thoughts, maybe even regretting ever meeting you. Was what happened only a mistake done in the heat of the moment? Were you going to tell him, ‘sorry, I didn’t mean to’ and then leave? After taking everything from him? That’s what he was contemplating. He can’t return to heaven without his wings, not that he exactly wants to go back, but if hell doesn’t have a place for him where can he go to? Your expression was neutral, too calm even, he couldn’t read you.

It was frustrating, you didn’t get any backlash from it, yet his life had turned upside down. Out of nowhere he reached out to you again and grabbed you by your collar, “You have to take responsibility, you can’t leave me now.” The male threatened you, getting really close to your face. Despite his deep voice, you saw the fear in his eyes, like a stormy night filled with thunder. He moved up too fast, as well as using too much strength, causing him to lose balance and fall over, crashing into your arms with his upper body. This wasn’t anything too dangerous, since you managed to catch him and prevent the fall of you two. It still hurt a little, because his fingers were gripping your shoulders really tight.

“Be careful now.” You said, pulling him in to hug him tightly, watching him tremble a little. This is weird, it wasn’t a natural reaction, so you questioned, “What’s wrong?” “I can’t…” “What?” He was acting strange, this was starting to make you feel uneasy too. Suddenly you hugged you back, holding onto you while saying, “You can’t leave me, don’t leave, never again. You made me like this, you have to take responsibility. Please, please, don’t abandon me too.” His eyes were unfocused, hieratic and wild, he panted while uttering those words like a prayer. The aspect that confused you the most was his expression, an unsettling, forced smile as he clung to you, repeating those phrases like a madman, “don’t leave, I can’t afford it now, don’t leave me.”

You stroked his hair and tried to reassure him, his voice was shaking the entire time. Has he finally gone crazy now? “as long as you behave good, I won’t leave. I’d never leave. I’m right here, Raphael, I’m right here.” It doesn’t matter if he is delusional or not, it’s easier this way. What a twisted path fate has planned out for him, it seems like no matter which turn he takes, he’ll always end up miserable. Even so he just adores when you hold him, when you make his life worth living by planting the seed of love within him. Just a few words that doesn’t even need to be true are enough to wrap him around your finger. You were no good for him, this much was clear from the beginning. Like the deadliest drug, giving him the illusion of temporal happiness, all while slowly rotting him from the inside. He can’t get out of this, he doesn’t want to get out, as long as you are alive he’ll keep using this drug, begging you for more. You can’t leave now, and he’ll make sure it stays like this forever.

Soon your visiting time was over, it was the break of dawn and you had to go home. You wanted to leave and already got up from your seat, he then asked, “where are you going?” “I’m going home, you have to stay here for a while.” Something was amiss again, the atmosphere got heavier. His eyes widened and you saw him getting uncomfortable, the change was so drastically like a light switch. “Take me with you,” Raphael demanded. “What?” This surprised you now. “I want to go with you.” He repeated his words once again, after hearing it for the second time you were still bewildered.

You’d like to say you saw determination in his eyes, but you only saw suspicion and anxiety. “If you want to, but lucifer said…” You abruptly stopped mid sentence, before adding, “you know what, let’s just leave together.” Then you gave him a hand. He tried to stand up, one step after another and hold your hand firmly. Out of nowhere he fell forwards, crashing into you again. Just like last time you managed to grab him and prevent the fall. “Ugh.” The boy yelped a little, and with your help, he managed to get back on his feet. Why was his balance so off, you thought, before you remembered the words of lucifer. To think losing his wing would have such an impact on him, you didn’t imagine it’d be this bad.

But standing alone wasn’t enough. You took a few steps back, and waited for him to follow you. When he did, he instantly fell over again. This time you weren’t there to catch him, and he crashed onto the floor. “Ah..” it wasn’t really painful, considering what he went through, but it scared him. He couldn’t walk like before anymore and flying was definitely out of the question. Even if he knew it will get better, this shock still had a physiological effect on him. Was this truly his fate, the path his lord has chosen for him? Will he find the affection he never got once he reached the end of this? He stared back to his legs, cursing his pathetic state under his breath, why was everything so hard?

You on the other hand was mesmerised, those vulnerable and desperate actions of his were making forgotten emotions float up to the surface again. These were the feelings you missed for three weeks, life’s been so boring without him like the main component was missing. The way he looked so crude was making your heart pound. You wanted him, so bad it hurt. When he looked up to you, he met your gaze, the face you made was indescribable. Was it joy, want, or anger? It made him anxious. An unfamiliar place without anyone he can trust. He killed may devils, who knows when one of them would attack him? His helplessness was causing him to depend on you more and more. “Get up, here.” Once again you reached your hand out to him, and pulled him up. With you here to help him keep balance, he was able to move more precisely.

The two of you didn’t do anything dramatic, simply walking out of the hospital hand in hand. Even if you walked pass other devils, they didn’t dare to say anything. You were the descendant of Solomon, and he was the infamous red angel. Was. Sometimes he would trip a little and lean forward, but you always managed to keep him on his feet. It felt like escorting someone who was drunk. Soon you two got out of the hospital and you called for a taxi, then you opened the door and pushed him inside. Raphael held your hand the entire time, unwilling to let go even for a moment. And with that, you two were making your way back to Gehenna.

Now you’ve done it, you really broke out of the hospital. It was way less dramatic than you thought, even so it left a bad taste in your mouth. You could still turn back and act like all of this never happened, should you? Then you looked over to the man sitting next to you in the car, he was looking out of the window, observing hell. “How do you feel, Raphael? You only woke up today after all.” He flinched at your words, then turned around. “I’m fine, I don’t need to go back.” Silence, a pretty awkward one at that. You still haven’t figured out how you should treat him, just the thought that he didn’t feel any resentment towards you was weird. On one hand you wanted to talk about it, on the other hand you didn’t know if it was the right time to do so. Suddenly Raphael spoke up again, “can I hold your hand?” He’s been like that all day, wanting to do such an innocent act with you, as if you didn’t turn his life upside down. It wouldn’t hurt to agree, so you held your hand out. The male was still looking out the window, in addition to that he was also holding your hand now. The rest of the ride went by like this, quietly and peacefully.

Once you two arrived in Gehenna, you helped him get out of the car. He stumbled a little but he was able to walk, though sometimes he would lose his footing and stray off. With heavy steps you two managed to get to your room. The devils who saw you two didn’t stop you, in such instances it was better to stay curious than knowing somehting they shouldn’t. You two had to go up the stairs to reach your destination, that was fun. Really fun. After he arrived in your room, you immediately made him sit down on your bed. He panted a little, already tired, probably because he didn’t move for the past few weeks. Satan did allow him to stay here, but you weren’t sure if he had an own room yet, so you suggested, “You can stay here for the time being, until I get you a separate room.” “…can it be the one next to yours then?” He asked, it was more like a condition though. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Then i don’t mind staying here.” That wasn’t something he gets to decide. You didn’t know what to think about sharing your privacy like this, since you didn’t have an answer yet, you changed the topic.

“Raphael, how do you feel?” “I answered you already, I’m fine,” he sounded mildly annoyed. “Yea, alright. Then what you are thinking?” “What I am thinking? Let’s see.” Raphael stretched himself on your bed, while you stood in front of him. “I can still remember the pain very well. Don get me wrong, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I don’t need it.” The male started explaining, his expression was serious and nonchalant. Then he trailed off, “huh, my chest feels tight whenever you aren’t here, if I can’t make sure you are with me my air gets snapped off. Like someone is ripping my heart out of my chest by force.” You weren’t sure what to do with these information, based on what you understood it seems like he has a few screws loose. “And?” “And it aches, it hurts. I can’t stand the idea of being separated from you.” He fumbled with his sleeves, but he wasn’t uncomfortable with sharing his thoughts.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he raised his voice, those red eyes of his showed an insatiable hunger in them, a need that can’t be satisfied. He grabbed your leg and pleaded, “don’t hurt me, you can hurt my body but don’t hurt me. Don’t leave me on my own, okay?” It’d be an understatement to say you were caught off guard by his sudden touch. Instead of replying him, you tried to take a few steps backwards, but he held onto you tightly. “Please.” His voice echoed through the room, it kind of freaked you out. In the end you got closer to him, now only inches away from the boy. This seems to satisfy him to some amount and he continued, “my neck, hah…it feels like a hand is choking me. It’s snapping my air off. Choke me please, take this feeling away.” “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t keep your bewilderedness hidden anymore, trying hard to understand the current situation.

“You are the only thing I have left. It’s only fair if I’m the only one in yours too. I’ll be good, I’ll be obedient, please tell me you need me like how I need you.” His hands grabbed your hips, fingers digging into your waist. “Ugh! Wait a second…” “I gave you what you wanted, because of you I ended up like this, don’t you see how good I’ve been to you?” This was getting uncomfortable, you weren’t exacltly scared for your life, rather you were concerned about the situation. Was this the consequences of your actions? “Raphael, calm the fuck down!” You grabbed his arms, trying to yank them away. It was starting to hurt, his nails were scratching you. Even admits all of this you noticed the flickering of his eyes, how his hands trembled and how he was shaking.

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you adore me? Isn’t that why you did all of this? Please tell me it’s true, don’t tell me otherwise. I don’t care if you have to lie. I didn’t do all of that for you to abandon me. Aren’t I the only one who would go this far for you? Tell me, tell me…! Please. I can’t, I can’t breathe. Y/n. Tell me you love me, please, give me everything you have. This agonising pain is too much to bear. Numb those feelings down until i am a shell of what I used to be. You can take anything from me, even if it’s my eyes. It hurts, it pains, help me, please, I’m begging. I think I’m going mad, y/n, have I made the wrong choice? All of this ache is driving me insane, you are my only escape now. Take it all away, make it go away. Is there no end to my suffering?”

His emotions just exploded, everything was all over the place. He also started crying at the same time as well as shaking you back and forth. Anger, doubt and fear filled him up to the rim. There was only so much he could take, and today was his snapping point. Your hand moved first, slapping him across the face, soon it turned red. His little breakdown was going too far and you weren’t nice enough to deal with it. “Fuck I told you to calm down, what are you doing, spouting one nonsense after another?” It’s rare for you to get this angry. You’ve learned to have a lot of patience after coming to hell but this man was pushing you out of your comfort zone. “I’m not good enough. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I can do better.” For some reason you highly doubted it, I mean just listen to what bullshit he was spouting. “Keep your hand on me, hurt me all you want. I’ll keep you entertained, I can be perfection for you.” The stare he gave you was serious, his tears rolled down his cheek with no purpose. Once again he started yapping about some hallucinations and fantasies he had in his brain.

He felt awful. There was no other way to describe it. Everything hurt, there wasn’t anything worth living for but you. If you left now who knows what he’ll do. Being casted aside all this time made him more insecure than he expected. Like a small bunny that got separated from its mother, walking into the wolfs den without a single clue. All that’s left for him was to clench onto any trace of love he could get. With god gone now, he truly had nothing left to lose, he needed nothing but your affection. This wasn’t about you, this wasn’t about him neither. It was about his obsession with finally feeling loved by his creator. For once he wants to be important to someone, to be useful and seen.

This need of his has been building up for centuries, and now he finally gave in to it. God was it pathetic. The title angel should have never been given to the likes of him, he truly was the one mistake of god. Despite all that you couldn’t deny it, the way he panicked was a little cute. It made your stomach feel butterflies, or was it something? The knowledge that all of this was your work made you feel proud. What a wise decision it was to leave with him today, when he’s still the most unstable. Getting thrown into an unfamiliar environment, meeting all kinds of people that can kill you. Maybe you two were pretty similar after all.

You were planning on being nice to him, you really were, but not anymore after all this drama he caused. “Raphael what are you talking about? You don’t get to decide who I’m seeing!” The words that felt from your lips were like blades stabbing his chest, the filter you had was turned off now. “Be grateful, that someone like me is taking care of something so filthy like you! You know it yourself, you are miserable and vulgar, it’s so selfish of you to want to keep me to yourself.” If he was going to let himself run wild like that, he also had to expect some consequences. The face he pulled was priceless, truly youthful greatest joy now. Tears dropped down his cheeks, you were enjoying yourself again, just like three weeks ago. Yes, this was the feeling you desperately missed.

“Such a pathetic being like you is destined to end up like this. Giving yourself up for me, isn’t it only natural? God favours me and not you.” That was a statement you highly doubted, since you weren’t exactly happy about being down here. Nonetheless, you said it just to make your little dove more miserable. Then you cupped his red and warm face, it was completely drenched in his tears now. His eyes looked tired, he seems to be so done with everything, so you cooed at him, “how pitiful you look…If I own you, you will finally find a purpose in that worthless life of yours again. If you give me your everything, naturally I’ll give you something worthy of it too. You can have an ounce of my affection, isn’t it great? Such a high reward for something like you!”

This was inexplainable, whenever it came to him you were like a different person. Ruining him, breaking him, hurting him, all of this became your favourite hobby. You aren’t a sadist, you are only like this with him! You are a good person, you are saving everyone in hell! It seems even you has lost your mind now. How are you going to return to earth with this mindset? The two of you were a match made from the depths of hell, a place not even god dared to enter. A truly beautiful and twisted bridge full of thorns. Instead of fighting together you made him clear the way for you, only to push him into the deadly river afterwards. Why you’d go this far? Honestly you didn’t have a good reason, it was all done for the sake of your enjoyment. “You aren’t enough Raphael, you are never enough.” A soft smile appeared on your face as you chuckled. This was fulfilling, but that blackhole inside you ached for more. “I’m so sorry Raphael, that you were born, and that you have to keep living. I’m begging you, please be lonely forever. Do it for me?”

Raphael was sobbing quietly, yet his features didn’t tell he was sad, instead relief was written all over his face. He didn’t know why, but you were dazzling right now. When you touched him it felt like the hand of god, you were his replacement for his lord. “I know it hurts, it will only get worse from here on, but soon you’ll be craving the pain.” You whispered, wiping his tears away with tender movements. “Please endure all of this and live miserable with me for a long time.” Stay with you, forever, that was all he heard. He filtered the words out he didn’t want to hear, then he gave you a meek smile. How adorable, so damn cute you won’t ever let go of him. You caressed his cheeks from above, smiling back at him. No one could understand the relationship of you two, it was something truly unique and wonderful. Who would have thought that the bunny and the wolf ended up together?

“y/n, do you love me?” Raphael asked, it looks like he finally calmed down. How strange that such words were able to help him. Or it broke him more, who knows. You had to think about what to say, the feelings you experienced when you were with him, the ache you felt and how you wanted to do so many things to him. After a few moments, you eventually came to the conclusion this must be love. Love makes one crazy, if this isn’t love, then what is it? It would mean it was something much more sinister, and that didn’t have a nice sound to it. Maybe it was just a mutual reliance, each one takes something from the other they desperately need while hurting all the involved parties as they do. Even if that was the truth, you couldn’t care less. All you wanted to do was to hold him while he repeats the words, ‘I’m yours’. You kissed his forehead, then answered with a ‘yes’. He pulled you towards him and both of you fell onto the bed, it bounced a little due to your weights. Then, Raphael hugged you tightly as he whispered, “I’m glad. I love you too.”

[lovecoredeity]

hi art besties! after discussing prices with a friend I was thinking of charging a flat rate price of $50 for my inventory ref sheets, the sheets would include 5 big items and 5 small items (subject to change depending on feedback) and wanted to get peoples opinions on if this is a fair price or not, I haven’t figured out how much additional items would be because as stated before, I struggle a lot with figuring out how to price my art which is a big part of why I’ve been so reluctant to open commissions (and also commission sheets being hell for me to throw together.)

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

I'm not on t yet and it's already so bad. how to prepare

Prepare? Nuh uh. It just happens.

The rabid animal phase does go away, sort of.

The level stays mostly the same but you learn to ignore it.

If you can do it, exercising helps.

But when it hits randomly at the worst moment I’m sorry there is nothing to be done LMAO

[losersimonriley]

I know some of us like to pepper Gaelic endearments into our ghostsoap from time to time and I thought hey! Maybe I should finally share my little headcanon as to how Soap even came about knowing the language in the first place:

I like to think that his granny (who raised him and his siblings) was from the Inner Hebrides and grew up using it. She moved to the lowlands after marrying, became a Gaelic-medium teacher. Thus, Soap attended the school she taught at and had a Gaelic-medium education throughout primary. (Gme students are taught completely in Gaelic from p1-p3 with English being incorporated later.) While not continuing it in secondary, he still had a fluent adult at home keeping the language fresh in his mind. That’s. The bare bones of it anyway.

Anyway I wanted to share this because I’ve seen the occasional person say it’s ridiculous to suddenly see him speaking Gaelic in fics (which is a very fair point of course. few people are immersed in it, it remains a threatened language) but the thought of someone who wanted to include it in their work who then might not because of this is disheartening. Should they do the proper research beforehand, it is plausible when given the right ingredients.

It’s a language that should be celebrated, not discouraged, especially given the history. Having a character know it just really depends on the different factors you throw into their backstory. Even if the author doesn’t explain it, it should then be up to the reader to assume he’s not just pulling the language out of thin air. Idk, if call of duty fanfic of all things can expose people to Gàidhlig and garner interest in some to learn a bit of the language, I just. That is a good thing

[raylasgf]

tdp fandom since yesterday:

[ohitslen]

“And when I see you smile, the only natural thing for me to do is smile with you”

Dear diary, I think about two men, fictional at that, all day long to a medically concerning degree.

To be more specific, about how happy it makes me to see them being happy around each other’s presence.

I am also delusional.

[rosicheeks]

✨ Friendly reminder - I don’t find spam liking a compliment. If you have a sfw blog or don’t want to reblog nsfw posts for whatever reason then I’d suggest either making a side blog specifically for promoting content creators or send a tip to show love 🫶

[shaykai]

Hello, just came by to say I love your durge oc! Do you ever think he tried to keep a hyena as a pet?

Awe thank you!! Have a doodle that feels related to this

Given his affinity for gnolls, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hyena at some point! (In that loose way that he’d probably just feed/vaguely train it, but it wouldn’t like. Follow him around the city/temple or anything)

(I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a littler of hyenas at some point and treated it like a cult activity- come help raise a hyena into a gnoll, it’s probably Bhaal approved)

[ilovebeingaturtle]

I'd love to know what you think the birth order is of the 87 turtles

Oh man I think my age order headcanons change for them by the minute AHA, I love all interpretations! The popular idea of quadruplets that change the order/take turns on it whenever they feel like it is so fun. I think in regards for canon? My stance is the turtles both don’t know and never even thought to know. We barely get them to acknowledge they’re siblings, let along establish an age hierarchy. I don’t think the topic has ever come up AHA that feels the most in character

But like-delving into fanon?

The back of their toys lists Leonardo as 16, Michelangelo as 15 1/2 and Donatello and Raphael as 15, so that’s a fun order if you want to go off established info! Even if the info from the toys can be taken with a grain of salt. Similarly, you could also go via height order? Raphael and Leonardo are 5’1, Michelangelo is 5’0 and Donatello is 4’10 (again according to the toys and Cowabunga Collection this time)

Oh also! I read once that apparently one of the books lists Leonardo and Donatello as 16 and the other two as 15, but I was never able to find a source on it plus that’s just even more of a reach in general. Leonardo and Donatello you can definitely read as the oldest two, however Donatello does give me like. Third oldest middle child energy a lot, he can a brat /pos plus chill second oldest Michelangelo is just something I’m biased to, in the least he’s not the youngest in my mind.

In fact I’ll always be a strong advocate for Raphael being the youngest, he’s just got such “baby of the family” energy AHA so I do love assigning him that at any opportunity

OH ALSO! If we go by the air dates of their birthday episodes, Michelangelo’s birthday is November 6 and Raphael’s is December 19. For whatever reason the turtle wiki lists Donatello’s birthday as November 8? Still can’t find out why, but that’s another semi canon order too! I haven’t found a date for Leonardo yet

I think my personal favourite interpretation for their ages though?

It’s gotta be Michelangelo as the oldest, Donatello as the second oldest, Raphael as the second youngest and Leonardo as the youngest. Something about it is just so amusing to me and secretly youngest Leonardo is adorable, so it’s probably the order I’m most fond of!

O also I said this on here one time? Which I also definitely still enjoy as an interpretation AHA

Oh, and! Last year I made this comic WIP about their ages, I never finished it and I was still new to the fandom but honestly I don’t think I’d change too much if I remade it today, so have it too!

So the uh. TLDR my answer on their age order is Yeeeees…..?

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Just finished reading Pez Dispenser Debris (I don’t even go there but I am fueled by Wiki articles and a love for your storytelling) and first of all—amazing!!! 10/10, I think I need to watch this series now. 

Second, I  noticed that (while very much distinct) Yuuta & Izuku have a lot of similarities in the voice you gave them—maybe it’s the constant panic attacks or perhaps both of  them placing blame for everything squarely on their own shoulders, but ough it makes for the perfect blend of gut-punching angst. I’d love to hear any ramblings you currently have about either of them. I am currently obsessed with both of them now and am placing the blame on you <3

I’m gonna pretty heavily discuss some spoilers for my hero academia in this. I figured that was okay since you’d already read my fanfic and the wiki so the cat is out of the metaphorical bag. That being said, maybe wait to read this answer if you want to not be spoiled for more details in my hero.

Yuuta and Izuku absolutely have the most similar voices out of all of my narrators and it is 90% because they are both completely insane and in violent need of a Xanax and a nice soothing cup of chamomile tea. God I love them both so much. They should each be heavily medicated.

My hero academia is a pretty great watch through the Shie Hassaikai arc. The concept is entertaining, the characters are GREAT, and the world building is really cool.

Then the story sort of. Went to shit.

I tried for a while after that, but eventually had to stop watching. My friends and I have a group chat named “horikoshi just call us” because we got so despondent at the writing decisions after that arc.

Horikoshi. If you’re out there. If you’re reading this. Just call us. We just want to help.

That being said, my love for the characters maintains its death grip on me. I simply adore them. They’re delights.

Yuuta and Izuku, on their face, have a lot of similarities as protagonists. The aforementioned insanity and need of Xanax, of course, but the skeleton of the stories has a lot of common touchstones and themes, like:

Both characters have some kind of history with suicidal ideation or tendencies. In the second scene of JJK0, it’s established that Yuuta canonically tried to kill himself. In the first episode of BNHA, Izuku is told to kill himself by his bullies, in an act which appears to be common to izuku’s life, and the only reason Izuku comes up with to not do it is “then you’d get in trouble for telling me to do it.”

Both characters have severe self worth issues. Yuuta’s looking for a reason to be alive at the start of JJK0. He’s looking for a right to be alive. In a way, Izuku is too at the start of BNHA. At the open of action, he is told by everyone in his life that he is useless. His nickname is “Deku,” which uses some of the same kanji as “Dekunobo,” meaning blockhead. The most direct translation were given is that this is a way of calling him useless. He’s the powerless member of a society choked with superpower, and he’s been told his entire life that he can do nothing, that his dreams are pointless, and that he’s a burden who would be better off dead.

They’re both saddled with power they can’t fully control. Yuuta with Rika, and Izuku with One for All, a transferable power that’s too strong to be contained in his body.

They both have a close relationship with an impossibly strong mentor that they are implied to be the successor of. Yuuta with Gojo, as he’s second only to Gojo in the modern age, and Izuku with All Might (aka Toshinori Yaga), who he is more literally taking on the mantle of One for All from.

They both are chugging that Loving Their Friends Juice and have tried to kill grown men with their bare hands as a result

That all being said, they could not be more different characters and honestly aren’t all that similar.

I have this sort of lasting grievance with literary analysis when people take a list of common plot points or events and use them to make the argument that characters are similar or parallel one another. Like, that’s all facial. The real question is how do they substantively handle those events. How do their story arcs treat those things? How does their character react to them?

Yuuta and Izuku’s actual substantive characters don’t really react to those events in the same way at all. The analysis could go on all day in this respect, really, but the biggest difference is how their respective story arcs treat the cornerstone of their original conflicts.

Yuuta opens action with Rika as the cornerstone of his conflict. She’s who he wants to free, she’s who he’s chained to, and it’s her protection of him that makes him think he deserves to die. Izuku’s cornerstone, meanwhile, is his own Quirklessness. He desperately wants to be a hero, and everyone in his life tells him he can’t be because he is Quirkless. He’s useless because he’s Quirkless. He should kill himself because he’s Quirkless. He’s a burden and always will be because he’s Quirkless.

And while Yuuta’s arc reconciles him with his cornerstone, Izuku’s forgoes it entirely.

The story just. Forgets. That he’s Quirkless. They stop talking about it. It never comes up again. It doesn’t make any real big impact on his character or decisions. It’s one of my biggest axes to grind with how the story developed, and it’s actually one of the biggest reasons why I wrote pez dispenser debris.

Pez dispenser debris was actually inspired by this one piece of my hero academia art where Izuku is hugging his younger self. I don’t know if it was official art or fan art, and I have no idea where it is or where to find it because by god have I tried so I can find it and link it for credit/to boost it. I saw it literally years ago, thought “oh that’s cool,” wrote the original first scene of the fic (where Midoriya stops the bus and is hit by the Quirk), wasn’t feeling it, got distracted by other projects, went to law school, graduated law school, signed up to take the bar exam, and was suddenly electrified in the last fucking month of studying with this fugue state of feverish artistic inspiration. I have never written so easily or so compulsively in my life. I’d write for eight unbroken hours and it would be fucking magic every time. It was like an addiction. I was writhing with a need to create and had so much fucking anxiety about the test I was not studying for instead. The words could not be restrained.

Anyway I taught myself three subjects on the plane ride to the state I was taking it in and passed anyway so it’s fine we’re fine

The moral of the story is that this story has been cooking long enough for me to get two more diplomas than I had when I started it and I have no idea where to find that fucking piece of art that inspired it, but if I find it, I’ll reblog it so y’all can see it too.

The thing is, the narrative sort of forcibly excluding Izuku’s past as Quirkless would make total sense to me if it was used as something Izuku himself was doing.

Izuku necessarily had to hide the truth of his former Quirkless status at the start of action—he needed to keep the secret of One for All. Like, he could not let people find out that a Quirk was transferrable, but you know, just the most powerful one, and also he had it, please come torture it out of him.

But as the narrative goes on, that rationale becomes less important. He has people he can trust with it. And yeah, eventually One for All becomes more known, but the discussion is all about him being all might’s successor. Him being Quirkless and how that affected him and still affects him isn’t really discussed or treated as important. And Izuku doesn’t act like it’s important to him either. He never really thinks about it.

And I just hated that. Like. He spent almost his entire life as a member of society who was spit on. He’s had a Quirk for less than a year. How are his experiences with Quirklessness not important to how he interacts with the world?

The other point of contention I had was Mirio.

Mirio is this superstar of a senpai who takes Izuku under his wing. He has an extremely powerful quirk that’s only as effective as it is because he put in the work and learned how to handle it. He’s a perfect, eternally smiling paragon of heroism. He’s flagged early as the one out of everyone, including heroes with established careers, who is most likely to replace All Might.

He’s also the one who was supposed to get One for All.

His mentor had found him and trained him to be All Might’s successor. Before All Might could meet him, however, he found this feral raccoon child in a sewer and said “oh my god I can’t not offer him incomprehensible power within the first three hours of meeting him” and tripped face first into fatherhood.

During a rescue mission, Mirio loses his Quirk in a way that’s borderline irreversible. There’s no known cure, and the only possible one is dependent on a little girl learning how to control an extremely volatile and dangerous quirk and using it in a way she never has before.

So surely, they’re going to commit to that writing decision, right? He’s Quirkless. We’re bringing back having Quirkless characters. It’s going to be this sick as hell juxtaposition between Izuku and Mirio. We are at least going to force Izuku to reflect on his own times as Quirkless or have some kind of discussion about how Mirio is treated differently now that he is Quirkless.

But no. He gets his Quirk back by the next season. We don’t talk about it much. It’s more of a minor inconvenience than anything.

It’s almost as if the show accepted as an actual rule that you couldn’t be a hero without a Quirk. And then just. Forgot. Everything it had to do with its literal protagonist.

Anyway, I hated it.

In contrast, I fucking loved how yuuta’s storyline with Rika ends. That scene where Yuuta’s turning back to Rika, thanking her for loving him, telling him they can die together? I’m obsessed with it. I recently moved across the country and listened to that theme song on loop during the drive.

Yuuta and Rika’s love was unhealthy. They hurt each other. But it wasn’t malicious.

They just didn’t know how to love each other in a way that didn’t hurt.

They were in shit circumstances. But the love was there.

Yuuta felt guilty for Rika’s love for him and his for her almost the entire narrative. He thought he cursed her with his love. He wanted to kill himself because of how she hurt people out of love for him. It’s why I have moments in sea glass gardens where Yuuta talks about begging Rika to stop loving him—he didn’t know why love had to hurt so goddamn bad, and he’s sorry for that, he really is. He wishes he was better at it than he was.

At the end of JJK0, Yuuta truly is the last person who remembers Rika as she was and still loves her for who she is. He’s faced with Geto, who wants to use her as a weapon. Everyone treats her as a threat or a tool, except for Yuuta.

Like. Just that moment. Of loving someone so genuinely, and being the last one who does, and knowing that everyone else will just use them. I’m obsessed with it.

Yuuta reconciles with his love for Rika and her love for him, and they’re both finally freed. It’s this perfect moment of acceptance that I adore. He comes to terms with his past. It doesn’t hurt him so much anymore.

I wrote pez dispenser debris to sort of force Izuku to have that kind of reconciliation. As it is, he hasn’t reconciled with his own Quirklessness and how that affected him. I wanted to give him something he couldn’t physically escape and had to face.

[chellychuu]

Just curious as to which one you like more! ☺️💖

[amanitapilz]

A train of unrequited crushes (perhaps not so unrequited later in life who knows)

[save-the-villainous-cat]

fav song???

Really depends on my mood! Most of the time, I put lyrics from the song I was listening to while writing a snippet in the tags. Teehee maybe some of you can tell which songs I like 🤭

[starweed]

my thoughts on itoshi rin and how his relationship with his brother has affected the way he has played football throughout the manga

to me it feels quite obvious that rin still cares about sae quite a bit. quite literally almost all of rin’s football career has been built around his brother, from the beginning of it to the u-20 match.

in the beginning, it started with rin thinking that sae looked cool and wanting to watch with his big brother play. then people realized he was actually pretty good at football himself, so he decided to start playing with sae because, “why wouldn’t playing football with your brother be fun?” this is when football was fun, it was mostly just hanging out with his big brother and eating ice cream together. we also don’t really know much about this time in rin’s life other than a few manga panels, so i don’t have much to say other than this is when got into football and he enjoyed it. i do feel like at first he mostly enjoyed it because he was playing with sae.

then, sae goes to spain, and this is when we first start to see changes in rin’s football. it’s in this stage that rin’s football both becomes about getting better and is when he first starts to enjoy it without sae. it becomes about getting good enough so that he can still walk with sae on the path to becoming the two best strikers in the world. it’s still enjoyable, but it’s mostly fun because he knows that sae is going to come back and they’re going to be great together. sae’s going to come back and they’ll both have gotten better and football will be even more enjoyable.

then sae actually comes back, and it’s apparent that all is not well. their confrontation happens and the football that rin had built up in the time that sae was away crumbled around him. football was no longer about playing with his brother, that had been made abundantly clear to him by sae himself. i imagine that it takes a bit of time for rin to decide what to do with himself after that. we just get a fade to black in the manga after rin and sae’s confrontation in the manga, but we do know that it was in winter. i don’t know how seasons in japan work or when football season is, but i imagine that having rin’s and isagi’s big life changing moments happen on the same day would be kind of unlikely (but who knows, this is a sports manga and the timeline is blurry).

the next change to his football is likely when he gets the letter to blue lock. this is when football becomes a tool to use in the goal of proving sae wrong. proving that he did deserve to be part of sae’s life, and that sae was in the wrong for saying what he did. football was now about making sae feel like rin did with the added weight of guilt. making sae feel guilty about how he treated rin when he returned from spain. blue lock is just a way for him to streamline that process. the facility gives him access to top trainers and training facilities, as well as the opportunities he needs to get back at sae. this football isn’t about enjoyment or happiness or anything that the football he played before was about. this football was about his anger and his need for revenge, at the same time it was also about his want for his older brother back. his want for his brother to love him like he used to, to wrap him up in his arms and take him out for ice cream and sit by the ocean with him. this football was football filled with grief over the fact that his relationship with his brother will never be the same because he is not good enough.

then the u-20 match happens, and this marks yet another change to rin’s football. this is when sae manages to fully cement himself as a world class jerk in both my mind and in rin’s. after this match rin is pissed off, like he is mad mad. he takes some of that anger out on isagi because he’s a) the one that sae praised, and b) the one who walked up to rin who was clearly spitting mad and tried to have a conversation. but after the u-20 match, this is when rin starts to play football for himself. this is when rin lets go of playing for sae altogether, and i am so excited to see what that looks like. this is rin accepting that if sae’s going to be a jerk to him for the rest of his life then he’s not going to let him run it anymore. this is rin not letting go of all the bullshit that he went through with sae, but accepting that it happened and kind of moving on.

of course, this is all from rin’s perspective. i’d like to see what sae thinks of what went down between the two of them, it’s likely much different than how rin views it.

at the time that i’m writing this post (ch 231 of the manga is latest chapter) we haven’t seen any of our paris x gen pals since they chose their team, so that means we haven’t seen rin in a while. i feel like rin’s new play style will be extremely interesting to see (especially from isagi’s pov, it’s like that boy can’t not wax poetry about rin), especially since pxg’s mentor is julian loki. since he’s in the same age range as all of blue lock it’ll be interesting to see how he handles the team.

and the u-20 match really good writing, in my opinion. it really expands on rin and sae’s relationship in way that hadn’t happened before and hasn’t happened since, at the time of this post, and that context is why i can even make this post.

hope that you enjoyed my ramblings about rin, i just think he’s neat