#Angst headcanon

[spiceofvy]

can you do fights with skz?

Fights with SKZ

cw: gender neutral reader, sfw, angst with (mostly) happy endings, lots of tears and anger, bad communication (minho, hyunjin, seungmin), anxiety (changbin, hyunjin, jisung), minho and hyunjin are kinda toxic in this one but they are not doing it on purpose, implied anger issues (chan), minho's is kinda open ended, one olivia rodrigo quote, most of them are more comfort than hurt though, very flowery language here and there

For Chan fighting is always a war against himself, against the anger that used to embrace him like a lover but now only clings to him like the cologne of an unwanted ex. Coming back to him again and again, clawing at his skin, scratching him up from the inside. He hates the anger that used to define him and still sometimes overcomes him. He hates the person he becomes when his anger wins against his brain. So he goes to war against himself, swallowing it down, ridding his mind of every trace of it. He takes your hand, holds it so tight, reminding himself of who is standing in front of him, what this is really about. Your relationship, and so instead of getting angry he talks it out, slowly, with many breaks in between sentences. Getting energy to keep going from the way you squeeze his hand whenever it gets hard for him. But it gets better. After a fight he needs a hug, or a whole night of them. Grounding him first before pulling him back up for air. He longs for a hand in his hair, soothing the ocean of emotions inside him. He wants to break the cycle of anger that haunts him since his childhood, but he needs time to do so, and someone that loves him, so he is not scared of falling. Please, tell him that you are proud of how he handles his anger, he is so scared of losing you because of it.

Minho fights like a cat. And I don't mean that as a joke. Cats know to aim for the eyes, the ears, the neck. Pushing their enemies on to their backs so that they can freely hit the soft stomach. Cats hiss and yowl when fighting, clawing deeper and deeper into the fur of their enemy, until they taste blood and their enemy goes limp. And Minho is like this too. Not physical, he would never touch you in anger, but still his tongue is as sharp as claws and his words hold onto you like a cat's teeth would. It's not pretty, it's not nice. It's terrible. Fights with MInho are loud, and mean. He doesn't want to be mean. He is not a mean person. But when he is so deep in his emotions, the only way he knows to protect himself, is by fighting. The best thing you can do is to leave. Go away. Let him burn off his anger, until he realizes that his words hit you where it hurts the most. When you return, he will be the one on his back, showing his soft side to you. Hurting himself with every word that he used against you. Breaking apart at the thought of causing you pain. Of pushing you away for good. The fear that you may leave him for good clouding his mind. You can talk through this, you two are stronger than this. He can be better than this. If only you stay with him.

When Changbing fights, he is ridden with fear. What if this is the fight to end it all? What if this time you finally decide that you are finished with him? Why wouldn't you leave him, when he is always so busy, always leaving you alone. Fights with Changbin always turn into something deeper. No matter what the fight was about originally, the fear that this will be the end of you two eats him alive. In his brain he is so easy to be left, it's so hard to love him, so why should you keep doing it? Why would you keep trying? This leads to him trying to end fights quickly and quietly. Sitting down, next to each other, his hand holding yours. Playing with your fingers, even if you are still angry. He speaks softly, kindly. Communicating his feelings in a fair and open way. His skin is warm on yours. Eyes kind when you in turn explain how you feel. He won't interrupt you once. Wiping your tears away, you int tun wiping his cupping his face. When slowly the anger turns to conversations, healthy conversations, unfolding deeply rooted fears, loneliness, growing stronger right next to each other. At one point he can help but smile, being so proud of how strong you become, how he can watch you grow. You end up cuddled up, hands still holding onto each other. Stronger than before. And Changbins fear being forgotten, and should it rear its ugly head again, it is much smaller than before.

Hyunjin always needed to protect himself. The world was never kind to him. Every nice act towards him was followed by darker thoughts. He knows what people think of him, what they call him behind his back. That they only want his pretty face and his emotions don't matter. Or if they do, they are what makes him imperfect, unlovable. Noone cares about a soft artistic soul, if they can't profit off of it. Can't profit off of him. Who is he if not exploited? Nothing. No one. He knows that so he turns his back to you. Closes the door to the atelier behind him. Turning up the music, painting in blues and in grays. Dark smudges on canvas. He likes to believe that that's how he protects his own heart. But deep down this is also how he protects yours from him. His words are sometimes too sharp, his eyes too cold, a quirk of an eyebrow tells stories. And it hurts you. The roll of his eyes, that he didn't even notice could break your heart. Maybe he is the ice prince. Maybe he is too cold to touch. Maybe everyone around him gets frost burned. But please not you. You are his warmth, please don't leave him, just because he had to get cold to protect his softness. Icy white mixes on his canvas, and he feels himself shiver in his atelier. Already regretting that he left you alone. But it's better to be alone than freezing in his cold. The more surprised he is when warmth enters his atmosphere. Hugging him from behind. Melting his ice. You should talk about it. Stop him from leaving the people he loves. But not now. The ice is melting under your skin. Later you can talk, now he just needs to be reminded that being soft together can make someone strong.

Jisung physically can't fight you. He can't. It makes him sick, literally. I'm not talking about little disagreements or just the two of you having different opinions on something. But actual emotional, angry fights. Standing in the living room, hands gesturing, word louder than usual. No. He can't handle it. Jisung is too emotional to have you look at him angry. Because every time he sees your face he just sees how you usually smile at him, how pretty you look when focusing on something, your calm expression when you are asleep. He can't be angry at you, and in turn expects for you to handle your anger too, to talk it out with him instead. If its a less serious fight, he handles it pretty well, he holds up against your emotions easily and lets you blow off steam if needed, before you talk it out. He holds your hand, kisses it every now and then while you loosen the knot of emotions that caused this fight. But if the fight is serious, like endangering your relationship serious, his calmness is gone. And seeing you angry at him almost puts him into a panic mode. He is constantly scared of you just walking out on him, and honestly, just you looking at the door for too long could cause a breakdown. In those moments it's your turn to swallow all this anger and help him unfold the anxiety in his stomach. In these situations there is no taking a step outside to calm down, because once you leave the room, he is sure you will never come back. Relationships are teamwork, and with Jisung, especially. During fights, it's the most obvious. But once the fight is over, it's all forgotten and forgiven. Life can move on, and he can't wait to see you smile again.

Emotions are always a lot for Felix, they overcome him so easily, take him up. Felix feels with his whole body, with every cell. And he loves that about himself, he loves how much he trusts his gut and his emotional reactions to things. It's what makes his world even more beautiful in his eyes. But with him being so acutely aware of his emotions, he also knows to not let the win in complicated situations like the two of you fighting. On the contrary, he tries to bite them back. Instead clearing his mind and opening himself for conversations. Except for tears. Tears that come so easily and unstoppable to him, his most renowned jewelry. He doesn't use them to pressure you, but emotions, if strong enough, always come with tears for him. Happiness, sadness, anger. All those emotions come out in tears, even if he tries to keep his mind calm. But he doesn't mind, he ignores them. He sits down with you, and some tissues, to talk. Not caring about the streaks on his face and instead talking it all out. Because he knows how important it is to talk now, especially in situations of strong emotions. And when it's all talked out, he lets himself cry freely, now happy that he got it all out of his system, and more often than not you join, mostly in relief. The rest of the evening is very calm. He needs to constantly touch you, cuddling close, sleeping extra close next to you now. He would crawl under your skin and would still not be close enough.The next day is skincare day, with the two of you healing your skin, letting it recover from the salt of the shared tears. And tending to any emotional scars with sweets and laughter.

In fights Seungmin explodes in the first minute, and everything after is silence after the storm. He doesn't do it on purpose, he would love to approach fights like Felix or Changbin do, to immediately get a hold of all the strong emotions and just talk things out immediately. Do not let things get this bad between the two of you. But he can't. He will learn to, I promise. But for now his heart is a bomb and the fuse is lit when he sees the anger in your eyes. He isn't mean but he is loud and a fast talker, not letting you get any word in. And he has many build up emotions to spill out from his lips. He is not the best at addressing things that frustrate him as soon as they happen, but instead carries them with him like a cement block hanging off his feet. But when he is finally free of them he stares at the battlefield he just created and his mind is calm. He feels sorry, and regrets what he did. Apologizes for his outburst, asks if you can try to talk it out. He totally gets it if you now need your turn to let your emotions out, he lets you, stands still, listens as you let it all out to. Just to fall into your arms as soon as the both of you are finished. Maybe you don't fix stuff immediately, but this hug patches up the worst wounds for now.

When Jeongin ends up fighting, he needs a break. Not from your relationship, not at all. But of the conversation. He likes to leave the room, to go on a walk, to take a breath, maybe to even scream into nothingness for a second. Everything that keeps him away from you at the height of his emotions. So he can feel everything out without hurting you. He knows how words can sting, how they can bite and hurt. And so he keeps them to himself, lets himself breathe. Let you breathe, think through what just happened. He will return to you, he always will. And then he is ready to talk. First he needs a hug and then you talk. In low almost whispered voices. Kind words, calm words. Hugs, and gentle touches. He likes to talk it all out. Get to the root of the issue, not just the cause of the fight but also everything that came before that. Things of the past, your shared past and the past you had before each other. Then follows silence, a soft gentle silence only broken when at one point you feel ready to smile at each other. Holding hands and joking. The rest of the evening is really slow and quiet  and from that point on, happy again. And in the morning you both wake up with a smile. Ready to face the world together.

[poedays]

David was in the car when Gabe died.

When David Shaw awoke after the crash the first thing he felt was his Dad’s hands on him. Pushing magic into his core, healing him with everything he had within him. David looked into his Dad’s eyes and saw the blood covering the side of his face. He saw his Dad’s expression. That smile. That Gabriel Shaw smile. But in that moment it was not a smile of happiness, nor reassurance, but a smile of resignation. This smile was a goodbye.

The last thing David saw before he passed out once again was that smile, the last thing he felt was his father’s hand on his cheek, and the last thing he heard was the gentle words of his Dad:

“It’ll all be okay David, I’m here.”

[catrawoods]

"My Dearest Brother...

We have learned of your ignominious defeat and are most aggrieved to see your fragile state.

While we do mourn the loss of your sacred dignity,

we are joyed that you shall be able to focus on matters that are within your purview.

Perhaps in time, you shall grow to laugh at this long journey full of its trials and tribulations.

But however...

Long we laugh

long we played

long we cry and fight

anything we're together as friends since youth

the sea will never be guided without you

if you're not there anymore,

our harmony will be not balanced.

as we wished to be kings of the world.

'Oh, God of the Sea, who will comfort you and be at your side when our battle is finished?' i said.

'my wife' you reply

i know and understand your pain and fear about someone would try to put you down as a punishment

And someone came to you for comfort and peace

yet you and all of you in our family would dare to overthrow me as i'm too much like father Kronos.

But i still love you..

you, god of the ocean, my good friend,

are one of my favorite siblings i have like i had with my daughter, your niece, Athena

All of you my people were the ones i had

Brother.. i just wanted to say that..

A life with humans and creatures, and the immortal life would be...

Empty.

I'm sorry that I'm stubborn like father

We all Jealous of each other and defying each other as hell and bullies of shame

argument of attitudes of us went worse

yet we realized that we should bond more that rivalry

We're just men and gods

i love you always

Not Insult and mockery, more of

The Act of our divine love

So hold me up and stay in my side.

Earth shaker..

Your obedient servant and loving brother,

-Zeus”

( Two Old Artworks of the aftermath of rescue before the Titanomachy and the flashback/ childhood of the storm gods.

And the new art of the gigantomachy )

[jesterday00]

Causing myself mental blorbo anguish so I’m forcing all of you to hear about it too

So headcanon: we know Hershel isn’t good with grief, given how he reacted 10 years post Claire’s passing.

I believe that first day, he was calm. So deeply, unsettlingly calm for someone who just lost the person he was presumably going to propose to. He put in bereavement, packed a suitcase, and went driving. I have no idea exactly how long it takes to drive from London to his parent’s home, but that’s where he went.

The moment he’s on that doorstep though, all hell breaks loose. It all hits him at once and he’s inconsolable. Claire wasn’t much younger/older than he was, and now she’s gone, and he’s alone again. He was alone after Randall and he’s alone now. But he knew he couldn’t be alone alone, so he took himself to his parents.

They’re able to help him get back on his feet and get to work. But for that brief moment, he was a little boy again, terrified and alone and desperate to have something go right for once.

[mmavverickk]

Pjo hadcanon, - demigods don't really suffer from PTSD, they can't suffer emotionally at all or are as blunted as possible.

They are disconnected from their feelings/emotions and cannot react to bad things Like ordinary people.

They are frighteningly indifferent to any pain, mental or physical - the pain from physical injuries or something emotional lingers for a maximum of a couple of weeks and then disappears into oblivion like a morning mist. grief passes easily and quickly, fear disappeared in a few minutes, the risk of pleasant waves of adrenaline warming the blood.

And they are prone to sadism and any enjoyment of any kind of violence.

It doesn't matter if it's over yourself, a monster, a mortal, or another demigod.

They are always happy to use weapons or hands/abilities.

These children learn to hold weapons, wear armor and be able to cause serious harm, as soon as they enter the camp, do not expect anything normal/correct or at least explicable from them.

They are not human, they - living weapons, expertly crafted from golden divine blood and mortal flesh.

They were born to fight and die in battle with a blissful smile on their lips.

They were born with broken souls and sick minds.

It's just that someone is bigger, someone is smaller.

this is a fun headcanon, but i want to put a bit of an angstier spin on it:

these children are human, but only partly. they can suffer PTSD. they know what's happened to them, what's been done to them, is wrong. they can suffer flashbacks and repressed memories and trouble sleeping and nightmares and intrusive thoughts and panic attacks and depression and apathy. they do suffer it. but they always get back up. there's surety in their recovery, and there's tragedy in it. they can't stop, can't falter, can't take time to process, can't slow down enough to work through their trauma before the next terrible thing happens.

these demigods are too inhuman to move at a normal pace. they have too much mythical strength in their bones and their blood to stop for any amount of time and heal. they throw themselves at each threat that comes their way like a battering ram with terrifying speed and strength and awareness. it just builds, and builds, and builds until they die or they break.

(sometimes, they think the ones who do die are the lucky ones.)

maybe it's the ever-growing trauma. maybe it's the divinity in their veins. maybe it's something entirely new, entirely too human to be godly, but too godly to be human. maybe they've just finally snapped.

some slowly feel their grasp on reality slipping. what time is it? did they sleep through a whole day again? when did they get to the lava wall? how did they reach the top, and is that a real burn on their hand? it doesn't hurt. is that a camper, or a monster? did the border fail? are those heavy footsteps outside the cabin real? are they really still alive, or is this their eternal punishment for failing succeeding?

some watch as their moral code slips through their fingers like sand. they'll fight as hard as they have to to save their siblings and their allies. they'll kill any monsters that come their way. maybe, they'll kill any demigods, too. maybe even humans. maybe they couldn't save someone, but the battle was still a victory. maybe that sacrifice was necessary to win. maybe sacrifices are okay, to minimize the damage. maybe damage is okay, so long as the enemy dies. maybe, just maybe, a pyrrhic victory is worth it, no matter who was lost, so long as they're still standing at the end of it all.

some stop feeling. it starts as depression. is winning wars worth it if they couldn't save everyone? their sibling died, their friends and lover died, and the world still turns on, cold and unfeeling. maybe cold and unfeeling is the way to go. maybe joy is unnecessary in the long run. maybe sadness is, too. maybe it will make things better. they pick themselves up, resume their routine. everything is normal. archery practice. lava wall. weapon smithing. capture the flag. everything is normal. everything is numb. why should the gods care when their children can't even manage it?

some turn violent. they grew up in war, training endlessly, fighting battle after battle, the only thing standing between the world and its doom. what is there to do now that the war is over, is won, than train more? practice weapons they've never tried, master moves they've never managed. kill in ways they've never thought of. they grew up in war. what good are they without it? what good is a weapon, just sitting around, gathering dust? maybe hurting people isn't right, but if it makes them feel something, isn't it worth it?

it's a cold world. it's not meant for children, human children. those children evolve to survive, and what they turn into barely resembles their mortal parentage. it's a dog eat dog world, survival of the fittest, and the unlucky ones? the ones that didn't die? the ones stuck in their trauma and PTSD and broken minds? they have to figure out how to live in it.

[the-fabled-void]

💔for whoever you want. go crazy 🫡

Angst headcanon, lesgoooo

Ink has a fear of doctors, but more specifically, of hospital rooms. He does have a higher than average pain tolerance, so he doesn't realize that he needs to be medically treated until it's so bad they need to go to a hospital.

They wake up in a hospital room. A white room, devoid of any color, any stimulation, any emotion. His clothes are not his own, they're blank, lacking of personality. Nobody is there with him. Did he make them all up? Was he going insane from seeing nothing for so long?

If they had a soul, it would beat out of their chest, but since they don't, their body just feels like it's on fire.

He needs to move. He needs to do something. He needs to fix it.

If his paints are there, he doesn't use them on himself. No, Ink will get up, possibly ripping himself free from any liquids he could have been needing to survive. He will grab the paints and splatter them on every blank surface he can find.

Eventually, whoever enters will find Ink passed out on the ground, eye sockets stained and crusty with tears, paints splattered on the walls, the bed, even the window.

(Tw for self harm)

Blood is dripping from his chest, and it wasn't from the battle wounds that needed healing. No, this was new. The window is broken.

[isara0408]

These are some headcanons between Megami and Kaga if they escaped Saikou Corp and lived in America.

They have money. Enough to go on vacation, or buy a car, or buy a huge house in the rich area.

Megami and Kaga work in a company in America but in different fields. They do see each other during break or lunchtime.

Megami was able to finally free from her family. She was able to live a normal life without strict rules and training. Just like her aunt, she lives happily and with Kaga.

Megami and Kaga left Japan but had to leave their friends and Kaga's parents behind to start a new life in America. Ichirou Saikou won't be trying to find them. Kencho will be the one to take over the Corp. Megami is pretty much dead to the family.

Kaga and Megami had a rough first year in America because of paperwork, finding jobs, finding a house, a car, etc. They had to get used to things around them.

The first time Kaga got injured for his experiments and had to be taken to the hospital, they were shocked to see how expensive the medical bill was for the hospital. They stood there for frozen for a minute or so.

Megami and Kaga had their children in America. So, in this timeline, there's children half Japanese and half American.

Considering they're from Japan, they did encounter some unpleasant people.

Megami does speak with the student council girls through her phone or video chat. Kaga does the same with the science club and his parents.

Megami and Kaga had a wedding, but it was a very small one with the friends they had made in America ,and their friends and families from Japan who were able to travel for the once and a life time event. It was a modern wedding.

Megami and Kaga would go out on dates during the weekends to spend time with each other and focus on each other after a week of hard work. They would do other things too 👀

Once they had their children, they sent them to a public school. Kaga and Megami would work together to get their children ready for school until their children could dress themselves and get ready.

Megami still drags Kaga with her to work out. (It ends badly)

Megami doesn't really miss being in Saikou Corp. She's more happy being free from that family and being able to control her life again after years. She finally was able to get a family that accepts love and affection. From time to time, she does check on the Corp in social media to see how it's doing and how Kencho is handling it.

Considering that Megami is no longer a Saikou, she replaced her surname with Kaga's. (Or she might keep it. I'm not sure)

Megami is now freed from Saikou Corp. She will start trying to find her aunt. There's a very high possibility that she won't find her, but she won't give up.

Megami and Kaga would cook for each other during certain days. There are times when they could come home very late, so they would order takeout instead. Now Megami doesn't have a strict diet, she can try foods that she couldn't eat. She still does eat healthy meals.

Megami does take therapy. She needs it to understand what she went through and to learn that emotions are not a weakness. Megami would mostly go alone since it is her time, but she does sometimes have Kaga there to comfort her.

Megami spoils Kaga, even if she's not as rich as she used to. She goes to save money to do it and saves money in case of an emergency.

If they have a day off, they try to relax at home and watch a movie to critique it and how bad it is. Again, they try to relax. In the end, they don't end up relaxing. They end up doing something to keep their hands busy.

[bustedtech]

Okay this is gonna seem really mundane but trust me on this, hold my hand for a moment; but do you think Dadbert instilled a good sense of skincare into John? Maybe bad teen acne runs in the family, and he wanted to get ahead of the curve, so that by the time acne was beginning to become a problem for John, the solution was already given to him- nothing crazy, just simple moisturiser and cleanser. Anything else would have been "too excessive" in Dad's eyes. "Nothing a simple bit of this stuff can't fix".

John kept up with it most of his life, even when kid's at school picked on him for it. He didn't really get why people thought it was "gay" to moisturise- did that make him gay? He asked Dave and Dave said no, so he guessed he wasn't? But it made him self conscious enough to not let on he was doing it. If anybody asked why his skin was so good in comparison to all the other kid's in his class, who were covered in their first bouts of spots and pimples, the answer was always "good genetics, I guess". Ironic.

And then the game started. And John could only use what was in the house. No big deal, he thought, there's plenty. Dadbert buys it in bulk, he'll be able to cruise off it until he can find some kind of a replacement. He had years worth, he wouldn't run out any time soon.

And then Dad died. And then John ran out. A long, long while later while him and Jade were together. And when the stress became too much, and when he got later into puberty, that first really bad pimple popped up. Right on his forehead. Dead centre like a target.

And John wept. An ugly, mounrful kind of weeping that Jade could hear all the way from the livingroom. She didn't understand at first. "It's just acne," she said "everyone gets it."

And all John could do was shake his head through tears and babble out half an explanation. Only half, because he wasn't sure he even fully understood. Jade sort of understood, enough to sit with him on the bathroom floor while he let it out.

[alex-the-huntress212]

HEADCANON

Race, before his parents left him, had a tuxedo cat named "Tracker", which since he started to be a newsboy, he's been on the search for.

Only to have zero luck trying to find his source of childhood comfort.

[seasidehobo]

I like to think Miguel memorized what Tempest smelled like, and used to just say hello to her without looking anytime she walked in the room. Before Miguel ended up back with Tempest, he spent some of his free time in the future trying to recreate the smell because it brings him comfort

[cuntyji]

nerdjo by mvtchaee

[stargirlstabber]

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji who doesn’t know why but he feels this weird jealousy everytime he sees you meet your friends and greet them all with a big hug. you never did that with him. you relationship was still fairly new to the both of you, but you kissed you fucked you even held hands sometimes when walking around. but, what toji was now realizing, was that he wanted a hug. well, he wanted a hug from You. not a casual little hug, a hug. holding each other. he didn’t know how to broach the subject without sounding needy and like the complete opposite of how he usually acts. he had never cared about this kinda stuff with other people, he’d never experienced it growing up and he thought he could live without it. until you. until you showed him that wanting to be held was normal. he’d been thinking about it for a while until one night, as the two of you got ready for bed it simply slipped out.

‘how come you don’t hug me?’

immediately you stopped plaiting your hair and turned to him with a shocked look.

‘what?’

‘how come you don’t hug me? like when you see your friends or you say bye you hug them. you don’t hug me.’

as soon as he said it he felt stupid. a grown man like him, older than you and he was sat here asking for a fucking hug. what if you turned the question around and said ‘well you don’t hug me’ what would he say? that i’ve never done that before sorry i don’t know how? his thoughts came to a stop when he felt a small hand grab his own larger one.

‘i- toji im so sorry. i’m sorry i didn’t think that was something you wanted.’

fuck now he’s made you feel bad.

‘nah doll you don’t have to say sorry, its nothing let’s just go to bed’

‘no toji please. let’s talk about it.’

you lifted the blanket and made your way over to his side of the bed so you could sit face to face. everything about you was so soft, so kind. such a complete contrast to himself. he was panicking, he didn’t do stuff like this, never talked about stuff like this.

‘honestly toji, i really just thought you weren’t a touchy person. i’m sorry for just assuming especially considering everything you’ve been through,’

‘no please doll. i wasn’t trying to blame you for anything. i just’

his palms were actually sweating, but your face. god your darling sweet face, looking at him like he hung up the stars in sky. like every word out of his mouth meant the world to you. you would wait for him to get the words out no matter how long he took.

‘i don’t know to be honest. you’re right i’m not a touchy person i’ve never really hugged anyone. but i want that. with you. and im sorry, i should be the one to initiate it i just didn’t really know how doll.’ his voice was so quiet, just a rough whisper.

he looked up to stare into your glassy eyes when you leaned in and kissed him. a small whisper of a kiss.

‘can i hug you?’ you said with your lips pressed against his.

he knew you knew he would prefer not to dwell on it.

and then he wrapped his arms around your back so tightly like he was showing the universe just how bad he needed you. he pulled you into his lap and let his cheek fall to your shoulder. he felt your arms wrap around his neck and you fingers stroking the hairs at his nape.

neither of you spoke, you simply sat and held each other and made a silent promise to maintain the closeness from today onwards.

‘thank you for telling me toji. you big baby.’

‘yeah that’s enough. time for bed.’

your giggle was music to his ears.

[olailamajnoon]

Bruce, who has a problem expressing emotions because he was teased for them in school as the "crazy Wayne kid"

Bruce, who used to clutch Alfred at night and wet himself due to his nightmares.

Bruce, who got flashbacks till his mid-twenties everytime he walked down an alley.

Bruce, who would hug a weeping Dick Grayson and stay with him until the night terrors were over, humming a soft lullaby that Bruce's mother sang for him

Bruce, who hardened his mouth and his life to keep the anger in check after Jason, because he knew if he didn't every criminal would pay.

Bruce, who sees Damian chopping up shrubbery and thinks "I was far worse as a child inside, it's a good thing he's letting it out"

Bruce, who can't walk by a homeless child in the street without calling his special Wayne Foundation liaison (who he keeps on speed dial) and asking her to find "one more spot"

Bruce, who sees Selina petting kittens and robbing the rich and thinks "if I could have had a life with her, that would have been nice"

Bruce, who looks at Cass' x-rays and sees her knit bones and swears to god he will break the bones of whoever's responsible for her upbringing

Bruce, who gives Tim projects that he himself can do faster because he sees attention-starved Tim trying to please him

Bruce, who looks at Clark smiling and thinks of what he can buy for his birthday to make him smile just like that.

Bruce to his parents in their graves after not being able to catch a criminal: I'm sorry. I've failed you. I'll try harder.

People who don't know Bruce: why is that man so unfeeling.

Bad DC writers: idk just that way i guess

[khioneee]

tap out.

simon doesn’t expect anyone to tap him out. a ritual where loved ones step forward to release a soldier from duty, creating a chance to reconnect.

based on this.

simon stands in formation, a soldier among countless others, each bound by discipline, each carrying their own story beneath a stoic exterior.

in the unyielding line, he’s silent, gaze fixed forward, while around him, families reunite: sons embraced by tearful mothers, women lifting their children into their arms, couples lost in long-awaited kisses. joy and relief fill the air, carried on quiet laughter and murmured words of love.

but simon is an orphan now.

there’s no one to step forward for him, no one to break his stance. he watches it all, standing alone, feeling like a stranger in this crowd of reunions, this world of connections he never belonged to.

over the years, the military has stripped him down, rebuilt him into something hardened and unbreakable. this new self is his armor, a wall between him and the life he left behind.

the tap-out tradition is a formality he’s only ever heard about, something he’s watched from a distance but never expected for himself.

he stands motionless as soldiers around him are tapped out by loved ones. he watches quietly, feeling a distant sense of satisfaction for them, grateful that they have that in their lives.

maybe soap would tap him out after he’d seen to his own family.

no matter how many times simon tried to keep him at arm’s length, he’d come to accept that soap wasn’t leaving him behind. coerced into the friendship or not, soap was a friend. until soap has been tapped out, there’s no one in simon’s life to come pick him out.

still, simon knew he was alone in ways he couldn’t change. or so he believes.

then he feels it—a subtle shift in the air, hesitant footsteps halting just in front of him, carrying a weight he doesn’t understand. his breath catches, but he doesn’t move. he’s trained to hold his position, but something in him almost falters as he senses a presence just inches away. slowly, he lets his gaze shift, barely, enough to catch a silhouette he thought he’d left behind a lifetime ago.

it’s you.

you. his childhood best friend. the love of his life.

you. the only person he thought of when he escaped his broken home. you. the guilt that wracked him when he ran, unable to say goodbye after the night he barely escaped after being beat nearly to death. you. the only reason he wanted to be alive, and the person he hadn’t been able to look back for.

—you. you. you.

and now here you are, standing before him, eyes wide with hope and uncertainty, tears gathering at the corners like unsaid words held back for too long.

he doesn’t understand, not fully. he thought he’d locked that door, left that part of him sealed away. and yet, here you are, holding everything he thought he’d left behind.

you hesitate, the weight of the years pressing down between you, unsure if you’re allowed to do this. if you can reach out to him after all this time, to be the one who taps him out.

he senses your uncertainty, feels it as if it’s his own, and in that moment, he lets a flicker of vulnerability break through—a slight furrow in his brow, a subtle nod. silent permission.

and you know, in that instant, it’s okay.

with a trembling hand, you reach forward, closing the distance. your hand hovers over his shoulder for a heartbeat, the air between you heavy with everything left unsaid.

then, gently, you tap him out. a simple touch, light and fleeting, yet it breaks something open in both of you.

in an instant, simon moves. his arms come around you, his grip unyielding as he pulls you close, lifting you off the ground. the soldier falls away, and he’s just simon again, holding you as if you’re the only real thing in a world that’s constantly shifting.

his head lowers, his face buried in your shoulder, and he breathes you in, lets the walls he’s held up for years fall away.

‘you’re here,’ he murmurs, voice rough, thick with emotion he can’t hide anymore.

his hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, each touch soft, a silent promise. the weight of years and regret presses against him, but he holds you tighter, as if to make up for every moment he was gone.

you feel the warmth of his tears against your shoulder, silent and raw. he pulls you closer still, as if afraid to let go, his voice barely a whisper as he breathes, ��i’m sorry, lovie. i’m so damn sorry. i’ll never leave you behind again. i promise.’

and in that moment, surrounded by echoes of lives left behind, he’s just simon again, the boy who belonged with you.

. ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ an. i know the tap-out tradition isn’t common in the uk and is usually done at the airforce but oh well. read part 2 here.

[tobeholyistobeempty]

almost immediately into dating, simon riley would buy you a gun.

probably a 9mm. matte black, no frills, utilitarian. nothing bigger than needed. comfortable enough to hug your palm, heavy enough to remind you of the implications of what you carry.

and really, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to you.

you knew he was a soldier, knew he kept closets full of gear and could disappear without a sound — appear the same way too. you knew how he moved, how his eyes never slowed until they met yours. knew there was something unsaid about his skill level, redacted parts he left out on purpose. but even above that — you knew the truth of him. under the mask, under the muscle, under the scars of his past. the boy who grew up with vigilance as his only defence. you know enough to know you don’t survive what simon has survived and come out normal.

you come out disciplined. dangerous. prepared.

simon doesn’t believe in luck. won’t leave his trust in the cavalry showin up in time when that’s already failed him many times before. simon doesn’t deal in safe.

he deals in preparation. for the worst. for even the most unlikely.

love comes in many forms. and maybe for simon it’s not candle lit dinners or couch cuddling movie nights (though of course you bribe him into those anyways. he’s never quite been able to say no to you) it’s making sure he does everything in his power to make you capable.

and he does it with all the patience he’s got to offer. there’s no expectation no pressure no timeline — god knows simon isn’t expecting you to become a super assassin overnight. he takes you out to some half-forgotten range an hour outta the city, tucked in nice between the pine and fog. sets up the targets and has you aim at them empty, watching the way you hold tension in your tendons. teaches you how to force it out through breath. how to work the weapon like an extension of yourself.

the rundown is quick and simple. caliber, kickback, magazine release. then he steps back and tells you to shoot.

you exhale the breath like he taught you and pull. when you miss, he nods once and says again. you go through three full mags and miss each one. it isn’t long before your palms burn as bad as your cheeks do with the humiliation of it — but it’s all forgotten when you land just a tap off the bullseye and simon walks over with his hands up.

“that’s how it starts, sweet’eart.” he murmurs, smirking against your mouth.

simon riley is a man of many talents, but his greatest achievement yet is loving you. and maybe it’s not always voiced by ‘i love you so much baby.’ — but instead it’s running you through drills around the crooked ikea furniture in your living room until the sun has set and the moon is out. or blindfolding you and telling you to unload and reload the mag. or leaving sticky notes with unlikely scenarios scattered around the house and quizzing you on your answers while youre cockdrunk against the counter.

you’ve learned his language by now. hes protective and realistic and a little bit cynical. but god does he make you feel alive for it.

you know by him teaching you how to use this gun it’s his way of saying i will do everything in my power to keep you alive because im in love with you and i wouldn’t survive a fuckin day if i lost you.