#because someone was grieving a dead pet

[greenlings]

grief is so wild because one minute you'll feel like you're finally coping or moving on and then the next you're crying because you suddenly remembered how things used to be and that you can never go back

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Alternate story Journey to the west 2: Demon strikes back in "Beauty and the Monkey King"

Long ago in a Distant Land, A land With mountains and barrens where no Birds nor creature was stirring except the sound of the galloping Hooves of the Mighty Kirin who wore a Golden Saddles and armor with Jewels on it.. and The Rider is None other Than Princess Saphira lorraina Fox Of Sakutopia and She is On the Journey to the west to Seek the beautiful Oracle herself. The reason why She heads to west is because It's been 5 Months since the Engagement is Called Off On Prince Daniel Jamerson Rooster after He was Caught cheating on saphira with another woman and being expose right in front of everyone including the Jade emperor himself, not only that She grieves on her dead daughter whom he Killed her beloved daughter in cold blood after she was born and made her passed away by abusing saphira when the daughter is in her womb.. Now Saphira made a Vow to Go to the Oracle to Seek out the husband whom he will be worthy for her hand in marriage.. Then at the 5 finger mountain, She hears someone calling for help.. She looked down and saw a Poor old man who's hair is not even grown on the top of his head.. She asked if he's alright and all, then he told her that he's alright. So she Comes down and asked Him who he is and then he answers that he is named "Sun wukong" known as the monkey king but saphira didn't believe him and neither is Saphira's Pet Marmoset companion Name "Mochi", She and Mochi Thought this man was crazy until when she got out of there..Mochi pointed at the lotus, She is amazed and thought she'll pick the lotus and put it on her beloved daughters urns..when she picked the lotus, it began to burn the lotus as she screams..and everything is on fire..as Mochi shrieks and chitters and began to hide in the kimono, She turns and hears the laughing as she began to ask him if he's alright but suddenly the fireball shoots up from the cave as she looked up as it landed right in front of her to reveal Himself, Lo and behold Sun wukong in the flesh as her eyes widen with shocked and in awe, Then he grabbed her by the Kimono and throws her to the air as she fell, he caught her Right on time and saphira was Suprised and before he said anything, 3 demon hunters appears and try to catch him but they were defeated by Sun wukong himself and then he told her this,

"Since you Free Me Princess, I shall make you my queen as an appreciation." But his moment is interrupted by a Monk Name "Master Tang" known as Golden Cicada.. During the battles, Saphira Saw Buddha putting his one hand down on sun wukong. She close her eyes and then Everything went black Until 2 hours later She awaken and looked around, No monkey king, No master tang, Nothing but a rock barren and shattered Mountains. She could've Swore it was just a dream or so, As the Time went by During her Journey and She began to put her white Cloak along with a celestial Fox mask Hidden her beautiful Face when She enters the Carnival and saw the Familiar face, She realized it was the Same Monk That Fought Sun wukong with his Buddha's palm.. When Master Tang Sees the mystery Fox masked woman he asked to pay to see the Shows.. She nodded and Brings out a Best Chest of Gold and silvers as well and She said, "We Meet Again Master Tang, It's been awhile since we last Encounter." Master Tang was Shocked to see the princess again and seeing Her marmoset companion looked at him and tilted her head..and Then Master Tang said that it was a pleasure to meet a princess in person and he told that it's showtime, he introduce her With Pigsy as Pigsy saw her and began to asked who she is and whats behind the mask, She sees him as a man but behind his disguise he is a Pig, Then He introduce him with Sandy The fish man.. Saphira is amazed by him with his freaky ways, then The Monk began to say "And Finally His excellency the-" Then Saphira cut off, " The Handsome Monkey king Himself, we meet at last.~" She said with a giggles..as people was angered because they thought the travelers are Fakes and all, Master tang Begged the monkey king to Perform as Saphira was right under his branch but then he Sluggishly got off from the branch and he Landed on her and his face on her Big Milky breast as she gasp and her face turns red, She takes a look to see if he's really a monkey king and saw a Golden crown on him. She is convinced that he is.. Then She said, "Oh great Sage Equal to Heaven, Please Show Us the Skills. Show everyone Who you and your brothers really are." Then He began to gets up and then did the good tricks alright but it cause alot of damages..and Then Master Tang Said with an Apoligentic face…

[allpiesforourown]

Shizun Binghe: i can't talk to my precious disciple about his family, but he's suffering q-q

S! Binghe: ...

S! Binghe: is, is it appropriate to get him an indestructible fluffy pet? Maybe a young one? Someone had to domesticate sth useful and fluffy

(He could also fabricate a mission for SY where he finds a ton of comforting stuff and Binghe tells him to keep it all and hisses at anyone daring to suggest otherwise)

(Please someone give SY a hug holy frick QnQ)

I think Shen Yuan's situation is so hard because his family isn't dead, they're just not with him anymore. So he can't even talk about his feelings because no one would understand what he's going through.

"Your sister had such a long life ahead of her.." oh she still does! She's still going to college and following her dreams! Shen Yuan just won't be there to watch it happen. His brothers will still work with the family business, his mom will still dote on her children, his dad will still teach his kids, his family is living. He's the one who's not a part of it anymore.

Of course he doesn't think about his family, they're grieving him while he's still alive and he's grieving them while they're still alive. They're just separated by an entire plane of space-time, that's all. He just has to live without them like they're dead, and they have to live without him like he's dead. So it's very simple and fine actually!

[devotedfem]

«Frankenweenie»

Synopsis: Namjoon loved his dog with his whole heart, but she passed away. But that didn't stop him from trying to bring her back to life, what he didn't expect though was his princess pet coming alive as a human girl.

K. Namjoon x f. Reader

3.3K words.

Genre: Frankenweenie (Tim burton) au | yander-ish.

Tags: Bringing back the dead, inspired by Frankenweenie by Tim Burton but with a dark twist, grief, angst, obsession, unhealthy coping mechanism, scientist Namjoon, morally grey Namjoon, codependency, cute and adorable reader, confused reader, possessive behavior, jealousy, plot twist, hurt, secrets, smut, dubious consent and painful s3x (but in the second part), revenge, Namjoon is a little fucked up in the head and not only in a hot way, he has issues but don't we all?, captivity.

Part I, II.

From the series masterlist; Hush.

Navigation Masterlist.

Namjoon wiped away the silent tear that dropped from his left eye, his face was red and restrained, the heavy lump in his throat felt like a rock trying to choke him. He closed his eyes to compose himself, he was an adult but one who was very much in pain. He sighed before adding more soil to the grave.

He’s doing this alone so no one would make fun of him, he wanted to grieve in silence and with no one around him trying to soothe him or telling him that he could find a new pet, that it wasn’t that deep. But it was, his love for his princess dog was very much deep.

He cleared his throat turning away from the little grave he made on his backyard, his princess’s favorite place.

The sting he felt when he entered an empty house, void of life, was unbearable.

She was with him since she was a little pup and he a little kid, he never loved anything in the world as much as he loved his pet. She was a sweet puppy, always loyal to him, accompanying him in the worst and the best. His parents were a little bit worry that this day will come and Namjoon would be heartbroken, but what was even more sad is that Namjoon’s parents left this world before his princess, deepening the bond between them both. But now she left Namjoon too, and for him that wasn’t fair at all.

Why is everyone leaving him?

The lump in his throat grew more, suffocating him with a vice grip. And then the sobs came out with force, making Namjoon to drop on the floor, wrapping both of his legs with his arms, hiding his wailing face between his knees. His sobs were heartbreaking, his chest stung with acid pain burning his heart. This is why he grieves alone, because no one would understand the weight of his hurt.

When the night fell, Namjoon’s face was swollen by the amount of tears he shed, his gaze was detach and dissociated, he didn’t have anymore tears in him to drop. So this is it, his grieving was over. This was the second time in his life he’s mourning a loved one, the first time was for his parents, and she was beside him to bear the pain. And now he’s mourning her, alone.

With a dull face, he put on his lab coat, he has work to do. At least he can distract his mind by working. But he knows that when he returns home, the pain will come back twice as hard.

Everything was normal in the lab, some coworkers asked Namjoon if everything was alright, but they didn’t keep pushing it when Namjoon only gave them a fake smile. He didn’t have any friends here, his only friends were Seokjin and Yoongi, but they moved out from the city last month.

Alone, alone, alone, alone, alone-

“Hey, I have something to show you,” someone whispered besides him, startling Namjoon out of his thoughts. His brows knitted with annoyance, he didn’t want to be bothered right know.

“Jungkook I’m not in the mood-“

“It’s important! I really need you to see it!” The brat interrupted Namjoon, fueling his anger. He was about to tell him to go fuck himself until he watched Jungkook’s wide eyes and pale face, he looked terrified but at the same time… excited?

“Okay fine, show me. But if you waste my time, I’ll snitch on you to the boss.” His bitter remark went ignored by Jungkook.

Namjoon frowned and narrowed his eyes with suspicion, the younger was too eager even for himself.

They went to an empty hallway, and Jungkook watch to his left and right before opening a door, with Namjoon following behind.

For a second, Namjoon’s heart beat fast with a little bit of excitement, until he watched before him a rat on a table, and nothing more. Namjoon closed his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose, suddenly having a headache.

“Jungk-“

“I’m a god hyung,” Jungkook fucking interrupted Namjoon, again.

“What the fuck Jungkook? What kind of drugs are you on!?” He barked at the younger losing his patience, but Jungkook didn’t even blink at his shout, making Namjoon stop and feel unease.

“I’m not high.”

“Then you’re insane! I’m done, I’m leaving your freak ass,” he said turning around, but Jungkook’s next words stopped his movements.

“I bring that rat back to life, it was dead. And I revived it.”

The deep hush and quietness that took over the room after Jungkook’s words made Namjoon feel chills on his body, freezing his limbs and stopping his heart beat for a second.

Everything around Namjoon spined, and he was about to literally pass out and fall to the floor if it weren’t for Jungkook rushing to help him.

“Hyung! Are you okay? Fuck… I didn’t mean to scare you like that, i swear I’m not on drugs,” Jungkook’s brows were knitted and his eyes wide with worry. Namjoon chuckled a little by the kid’s words.

This felt like a sign from heaven, encouraging Namjoon to do this.

The older composed himself quickly straightening his back and turning around to see the rat closely.

“What’s the failure percentage? How many times have you done this? Is this your first subject? Have you tried this with… humans?” Namjoon’s voice lowered at the last word. He was all professional right now, but some things like bringing dead people back to life, can be considered unethical. But Namjoon wouldn’t judge Jungkook if that was the case. He was a scientist before anything.

Jungkook’s eyes widened with horror at the mention of reviving people.

“No! I haven’t done this with any human, just a couple of rats. This is my third subject, but-but I came to the conclusion that this won’t work on human’s corpses anyway. For now, it works only for animals.”

When Namjoon turned his head to look back at Jungkook, the younger widened his eyes for a second before averting and dropping his gaze to his toes with anxiety, he was shifting his weight to one foot to another, not meeting Namjoon’s prying eyes. The boy was nervous, and it was normal. This kind of stuff like reviving dead animals behind their lab managers backs wasn’t legal at all. Jungkook could be in trouble for all Namjoon knows, but lucky for Jungkook, this serves Namjoon’s best interests.

“Hey,” called softly Namjoon. Approaching Jungkook to rub his shoulder and ease the tension, Jungkook startled with surprise by the touch, and Namjoon only smiled at him.

“I won’t tell anyone about this Jungkookie, I promise.” He crooned with sparkly eyes crinkling at the corner, spreading Jungkook’s smile who relaxed quickly at Namjoon’s words.

And then, all of sudden Namjoon’s face dropped with seriousness, making the younger frown.

“But only if you do me a favor,” he mumbled with a deep and dark voice, his eyes were crazed and fixated on Jungkook, even his “tender” touch on the younger shoulder tighten with force, making Jungkook flinch with pain.

“Wh-what kind of favor hyung?” Jungkook couldn’t help the stutter, the older man made him feel intimidated all of sudden.

It’s like he’s witnessing a dark side of Namjoon he didn’t knew about.

And then, Namjoon grinned widely, like wolf.

“Help me bring back my princess.”

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The two of them were on Namjoon’s basement, he has some lab tools and machinery down there. He chose that place to hide from prying eyes like their coworkers or bosses. Unfortunately, Jungkook felt extremely scared being alone in a basement with Namjoon. Now and then he throwed the older side eyes, waiting for any weird movement from him to run the fuck away from this house.

They spent 4 hours trying to revive the dog lying on the lab bench, but nothing happened. The younger watched how Namjoon was losing himself in the process, and he almost felt bad for him, he didn’t know he had lost his pet, and that he loved it this much. But it was the natural process of life, if Jungkook knew he was speaking to a grieving person, he wouldn’t tell him about his little experiment.

Namjoon hit the bench with a curse, fighting back tears. Jungkook took this as a sign to stop.

“Hyung, I already told you this may take up to 24 hours. I think you should rest…” he said carefully, as if he was dealing with a wild animal. In fact, Jungkook only wanted to go home.

“Yeah, you’re right. You can leave.” The older said crossing his arms and staring at the corpse of the dog.

Jungkook find it quite disturbing, but he said nothing when he turned around to get the fuck away.

“And Jungkook, this better work. Because if not, you’ll be the next corpse I’ll try to bring back to life.” That threat freeze Jungkook’s movements with primal fear, he watched with horror Namjoon’s back before literally running away.

Namjoon wiped away the silent tears, bringing a chair to sit in front of the bench with a tight heart. His pet wasn’t moving at all, her body was covered in dirt and inflated, giving off nasty odors.

It was like a reality check for him, he had hope for a second, but that was ripped away from him. His eyes dropped with exhaustion and hurt heavy in his chest. Dreaming about his parents and his pet, and colorful moments.

Then it was midnight.

A lighting struck outside the window, the sound made you lift your upper body. You gasped in amazement when you watched all of your limbs, they looked human. Your skin was soft and hairless, but where is your fur!? Now how you’ll survive the cold? Your eyes and mouth opened when you felt some type of fur coming from your scalp, it was very long and it covered your chest. You frowned when you touched your chest, you had two lumps of flesh popping out of it. You played with them a little, feeling a weird sensation between your legs when you stimulated them.

But you got distracted by the long limbs from the lower part of your body. You were giggling when you moved them.

“Who the fuck are you?” The strident and angered voice startled you, you didn’t notice Namjoon watching you like a hawk.

You blinked when you recognized him. It was him! Your beloved owner! You missed him so, so much.

“Joon!” You chirped with happiness, getting out of the bench with shaking legs, walking like a newborn and throwing yourself into Namjoon’s lap.

He was startled and a little bit horrified, he had a naked and unknown woman sitting on his lap.

“Missu!” you said wrapping your arms around his neck.

He frowned lost and disturbed.

“What? Who are you and what are you doing here you freak.” He said with his brows knitted, he was about to throw you away and call the police.

You didn’t understand some of his words, but you did notice that he wasn’t recognizing you, and that made you pout.

“Me me! y/n me! Joon you! Me y/n!” You were distressed because you couldn’t bark anymore and you didn’t know how to speak Namjoon’s language very well. You grabbed both of his shoulders to make him understand you.

A thousand of emotions flash on Namjoon’s face, surprise, fear, pain and… relieve.

His gaze softened immediately, and you grinned with teeth recognizing that sweet gaze Namjoon used only for you. His hand lifted to stroke lovingly your cheek, and you dropped your face into his palm, closing your eyes and enjoying his touch.

But you startled when you felt him wrapping both of his arms around you with a tight grip, burying his face in your neck and smelling your scent. You melted at his touch, giggling at the sensation of his breath brushing your skin.

“You’re here,” he whispered, this time grabbing both of your cheeks to look at you better. His eyes scanned all of your face and body. You watched something dark and strange flashing his eyes when he looked down at your body, but he returned to your eyes quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to come back as a human… but I’m not complaining either,” he said smiling with dimples and sparkling eyes, you felt a happiness bubble burst inside of your chest at the sight.

You were so happy that you lapped his mouth with your tongue like you always did when you were, well a dog. But this time Namjoon freeze with shock, you watched him gulp hard and avert his eyes, making you pout.

“Okay, we should put clothes on you I guess,” he said clearing his throat, he was about to get up from the chair but you glued yourself to him, wrapping tightly your arms and legs around him, making him laugh.

You giggle when he tried to dress you on his clothes, you only let him put one of his oversize shirts on you, but you didn’t let him dress you in pants or underwear, you didn’t like the feeling of being covered in clothes.

Namjoon let you be for today, after all his shirt was big enough to cover you mid thigh.

He noticed that you can’t walk on two legs, you were tripping like a newborn, always pouting at him to carry you. He always melted and do as you wish, he wouldn’t denied you anything.

“Missu,” you whispered at him when he was hand feeding you after you made a mess with the cutlery and food.

He hummed staring at you with those piercing eyes.

“You mean, you miss me?” He asked softly, and you nodded with a wide smile.

You were about to lick his face again but you stopped, not sure if he would like it. He noticed your hesitation, gripping your chin gently.

“Humans usually don’t lick each other like dogs do, I don’t mind if you do, but we have other ways of expressing our love.” He said lowly, making you blink with curiosity.

“Kis’?” You asked with knitted brows, you heard that on tv before going inside the kitchen with him.

Namjoon chuckled at you, nodding with heart eyes.

“Want me to teach you?”

You nodded more fiercely this time, eager to show and receive love.

He brushed his lips on your cheek, pecking the skin softly. You enjoyed it, but on tv the people were doing that with their mouths together, and they were using tongue too.

You frowned a bit disappointed, then you grabbed boldly his chin and crashed your lips against his. You licked his lips a little bit carelessly. But you enjoyed it better like this, it felt right. You were closing your eyes and melting in the feeling, until Namjoon gripped tightly your waist to put you away from him, breaking the kiss.

His gaze was dark and his breath a little labored, he looked scary and affected like this, you thought that maybe he didn’t like it.

“Darling, if you do that again, I will lose control over myself. Be careful next time or I won’t stop.” His jaw was clenched and his nostril flared.

You recoiled a bit into yourself at his intense expression, it reminds you when Namjoon gets angry when you misbehaved. If you had your dog ears right now, they would be back and your tail between legs.

Namjoon’s eyes softened immediately, stroking your locks.

“Let’s go to sleep, princess,” he said carrying you to his bedroom.

You watched with widened eyes and parted lips how he laid you down on his mattress and not the floor, you giggle with happiness basking at the feeling of the soft bed sheets wrapping you, you rolled until you turned yourself into a human burrito, making Namjoon break a loud laugh at you.

“All right, stop being silly and let’s sleep.” He said lying next to you on the mattress.

You stared at him with a big smile before launching yourself at him, making him groan, he faked a hurt whine making your smile drop and your brows frown.

You sit on his waist with your legs on each side of him, grabbing his cheeks into your palms to look for any injury.

But Namjoon took you by surprise when he changed the positions, turning your bodies around to make you lay under him. He was staring down at you with hunger in his eyes.

“Sleep well, my love.” He said before turning off the bed lamp, and positioning himself this time behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you warm with his chest against your back.

Your eyes dropped immediately, ignoring the possessive snake-grip that was holding your body.

You were so happy, you wanted that happiness to last forever.

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When the first sun lights stroked your face, you blinked your eyes open, yawning and stretching your limbs. You freed yourself from Namjoon’s tight grip, hearing the sound of people and cars outside the house. You were curious to explore the world as a human, so you try to walk some steps on your feet but you ended up tripping and falling to your knees. You look behind your back if you woke Namjoon up, but he was still like a rock.

You crawled to the living room, approaching the front door. This time you stood on your feet without tripping, turning the door knob and feeling the street breeze brushing your face. You watched in amazement the cars and the people outdoors, you put a foot outside until you were dragged roughly into the house again. You whimpered with pain by Namjoon’s violent hold.

He slammed the door shut, turning around and staring daggers at you, his jaw was set and his fists clenched. His breathing was labored and his steps were heavy when approaching you. By instincts you crawled away from him to hide in a safer spot, but he stopped you, pulling your body towards him.

“Don’t fucking do that again! You want to be killed by a car again!? You want to die and leave me alone a second time!? It’s that what you want!?” He shouted to your face with a vein popping on his neck, you didn’t understand half of his words, but either way they made you cry with hurt.

It was the first time you felt afraid of him.

Namjoon calmed down a little at the sight of your tears, but his strong hold on your upper arms didn’t ease.

“You’re mine, you won’t set a foot outside of this house or get away from under my watch ever again, did I make myself fucking clear?” His crazed eyes were fixated on you, you didn’t know what to answer, so you just nodded with fear.

He pulled you against his chest to hug you, but instead of feeling warm you felt trapped.

“I own you, remember that my love.” He whispered hotly against your ear. And that word, owning, that you understand.

The moment was interrupted by a knock from the front door, you felt Namjoon tensing.

“Hyung! It’s me Jungkook, did the experiment worked with your dog?”

You heard Namjoon cursing and tightening his grip on you, but you frowned confused. Experiment? Dog? Was that man talking about you?

It was the first time in your short life that you had doubts about your owner, even thoughts, before… before all of this you never really think, you just feel and bark. But now, everything changed.

And you were about to find out what was happening, and what was Namjoon hiding.

He can own your body but not your mind.

Or that’s what you thought.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty

[jadeoru]

LOVER, PLEASE STAY.

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: satoru gojo, 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: reader.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: fluff, comfort -- wc: 3k

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓: being the strongest has an indescribable amount of pros, but it's outweighed by its cons. with such an honor, satoru finds himself unable to open up to you; thinking it would make him weak.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: fem!reader (gojo refers to u as gf) hurt/comfort, this is sad :[, pet names (baby, pretty, etc), crying (gojo), gojo being a dumbass and not communicating his feelings, kissing, poor gojo just wants a peaceful life with his gf, probably (definitely) ooc, overall just comfort bc I'm GRIEVING and he needs a hug i think a hug could fix him

you always felt safe when you were with satoru. no matter where you were, or what he was doing, if you called him he’d be there in seconds. maybe it was because he was the strongest, or maybe it was because he truly cared, but you always felt at ease around him. you could tell him anything with no fear of being judged (well, even just teased a little bit). regardless, he was always there for you, and you were so caught up in how he always checked in on you; always making sure you were okay, that you forgot to ask him the same. it wasn’t until when suguru geto left that you realised that beneath it all, satoru gojo was a really fragile man; your realisation solidified when you found him like this. you came home from work earlier than usual, opening the door with exhausted gratitude to finally be home, but, you were greeted with silence. huh. usually, when you got home you were bombarded with affection from the moment you stepped inside; barely one step through the door and he was at your heel like a dog that had been waiting for its owner to return. but now was different. It was eerily quiet compared to every other day. was he even home?

“satoru?” you called out into the hallway, it lingered in the air, until it faded out with no response. ‘weird, maybe he’s asleep or something.’ - it’s a stupid thought, considering how at this time, he’s usually (always) going through/recovering from a huge sugar rush, but it was the only thought that made sense. you took your coat off and placed it on the coat rack, quickly discarding your shoes and placing your bag on the counter before beginning the hunt for your boyfriend.

as you went from room to room, hallway to hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the unsettling feeling of emptiness that replaced his absence. as your search dragged on, you struggled to adjust to the growing pit in your stomach. did someone get him? no. there’s no way. he’s the strongest. you shouldn’t have to worry about that; he said so himself. but, still, you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that maybe something did happen. you were so caught up in your thoughts, you almost missed the sound that came from your shared bedroom. almost. it stopped you dead in your tracks; prompting you to quietly make your way to the source of the sound; pressing your ear against the door.  that’s when you heard it again. a quiet; muffled noise. it sounded like sniffling. you almost crashed through the door and face-planted into the carpet when you realised what was happening. was he crying? your hands hesitated around the doorknob, before pulling it open. luckily, you regained your composure the moment the door flung open.

there he was: sitting on the edge of your shared bed, his hands gripping the bedsheets with some sort of desperation; a futile way of grounding himself. his head was down, looking at his knees. almost instantly, his head snapped back to yours. if it weren’t for the blindfold obscuring half of his face, you could’ve probably identified what was happening. or at least, you would’ve gotten a brief idea. for now, all you had was a theory; a thought, that maybe, just maybe, your boyfriend was crying. but how could you make sure of it? hell, you’re talking about satoru gojo; the most stubborn man alive. out of all the years you’d known him, never once had he opened up to you; let alone expressed feeling anything about being even the tiniest bit weak.

“you’re home early.” his voice interrupted your thoughts. it wasn’t as enthusiastic as it usually was, most signs of genuine joy were nowhere to be heard; instead it was laced with faux-optimism. shutting the door behind you, you walked towards the bed and took a seat next to him -taking note of how he didn’t attempt to get his usual ‘welcome home kiss’. while, yes, it’s strange, satoru always made sure to kiss you whenever you got home. treating the act as if it were some sort of ritual, or tradition. but now? he didn’t even try. yeah, he was looking at you, and smiling-(fakely), but there was no way he was actually happy. “yeah, my boss finally freed me from my office. he was complaining about always letting me off early, but i was too busy packing my things and getting the hell outta there to listen.” you chuckled, trying to lighten his mood, even if only by a bit. “yeah? old man finally stopped making you his personal servant?” his voice sounded weak, as if the act of speaking was one of the hardest difficulties he had to endure. you nodded, “yeah, finally.” the room fell silent after you spoke. you could hear the cars driving by outside, and the rain pattering against the window, dancing rhythmically in the air.  there was nothing else to be said. it was unsettling, if anything. silence was something long forgotten when in his presence. you almost had to double check to make sure that was actually satoru beside you, and not some sort of alien. the situation was so… awkward? conversation was attempted, but it didn’t flow as easily as it always did. it was so unlike him, and it was tearing you apart from the inside. your heart panged with distress; slowly unravelling from within you. there was no denying it anymore, the man that sat beside you, who suddenly found staring at the blank wall very interesting, (or at least, in that direction. - blindfold, and whatnot) your satoru, needed help.

and now, you accepted the task that was getting satoru gojo to open up about his emotions. you shifted in your side of the bed, fiddling with your fingers as you searched for something to say, silently hoping that the right words would come to you if you tried hard enough. "you okay?” - not the most poetic and comforting thing, but it was tried and true. “ you know you can talk to me about anything, right?" you asked, your voice soft and caring; each word laced with pure love. he chuckled, "what makes you say that?" he asked, blissfully unaware of how obvious he was being. you noted how he avoided your gaze, instead continuing to focus on the wall in front of you. "you've just been acting a bit distant lately, and you seem upset. I know how you hate talking about your feelings and stuff.. but I've just been worried." you said, leaning into his shoulder. he smiled, without a trace of cockiness. "I'm fine, pretty. you don't need to worry about me - you never do." he added the last part with a bit of hesitancy. because, deep down he knew he was lying. he was lying to you, and to himself. he knew he should open up to you. he knew that if he did, you'd be there for him, supporting him with open arms. but he was scared, petrified. he didnt even know why. it was as if the act of letting out each feeling and thought, releasing the growing balloon of responsibility and insecurity into the open air, would enervate him; make him weak. he was washed away by a wave of shame. if he wasn't constantly the strongest, the bravest, never sad, never worried, perfect boyfriend, then who was? who would take his place? there was something about opening up to you that made him feel weak. like, if he let his confident, fearless facade down, you would turn your head away in disgust.

he knew that he needed help. but the act of letting out each and every vulnerability that he held delicately within him was bordering the line of impossible. he clung onto his title as ‘the strongest’, as if it were the one thing that defined him.

"satoru." you almost whispered, "not a single person on earth lives their life without a voice in their head bringing them down." you began. your hand slid across the white bedsheets until it met with his; resting your hand on top of his. "feeling sad doesn't alienate you from others. it's a normal thing. 

you slowly hovered your other hand above his face, nervously, before you pulled his blindfold down. his eyes were as enchanting as they had always been, but now, they were decorated with tears.

you were right, he was crying. although this was exactly what you had expected to see, the reality was a lot harder to process than you thought.

shockingly enough, that was the first time you had ever seen him cry.

behind the teasing and flirting, all the cocky, boastful comments, was a man full of fear. while, yes, being the strongest had its perks, it was outweighed by an indescribable number of cons; because of his status as the strongest, he always had a bunch of expectations that he had to meet at all times. perfect people couldn't have flaws - that's why they were perfect. he also had to deal with the fact that due to his role in life, eyes on him at all times, you were the second target. when being tasked with the goal of taking down the satoru gojo, their target was always either him or you. everyone with common sense could see how much you meant to him, which meant you would also fall victim to the attempts of taking down the honoured one. he hated it; how he never had a say in the matter - how he was born into greatness. all he wanted was a quiet, safe life with you; a goal he could never reach. it's not like he regrets dating you, it’s just that he hated to have to put you through this.

his cheeks shimmered from the wetness pooling around his eyes, a sight so unlikely you felt overwhelmed by sympathy. it hurt you, both physically and mentally, to see him like this. you felt ashamed of how you hadn’t questioned him sooner, that you hadn’t helped to put the problem at ease before it got out of hand. without saying a word, you scooted closer to him, and pulled him into your chest. he remained perfectly still at the action. the hand that was on his own quickly moved to his hair, running your fingers through it just the way he liked it, the way only you knew how to do. 

“even if you don’t wanna talk, i’m here for you, ‘toru.” the tone of your voice was similar to that of honey; a syrupy sweet kindness, that gojo was sure would rot his teeth if he had too much, but he had a sweet tooth unlike no other.“- i just want you to know that it would be so much easier if you let me know what was going on in that pretty head of yours.” you continued. he nodded, knowing that you were right. he nudged himself closer to you, burying his face into your chest, once again concealing the sadness he had spiralled into. “take all the time you need, ‘toru. i’m not going anywhere.” if that wasn’t enough support, you continued, “even if we stay like this till the sun comes up, if you still aren’t ready to talk, i’ll keep waiting.” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, to which he let out a strange choking sort of sound in response. It sounded like an exasperated chuckle. “what did i do to deserve you.” he muttered, turning his head as he spoke so his words weren’t muffled by your chest. you held him even tighter, if that was even possible. with a smile as soft as your hold on him, you burrowed your face in his hair, mumbling a quiet “i love you,” which didn’t  land on empty ears. he heard every word, and clung to each syllable that left your lips like they were a lifeboat, and he was lost at sea. you scooped him up like an angel and he found himself replaying those three words over and over again in his mind. he realised that, despite his strength, you made him the strongest. your constant love and support, like water to a plant, helps him achieve his full potential. how could he ever repay you for all that you do to him? 

you hear fabric rustling as he shifts around, tilting his head to the side yet again. “i’ll do anything for you , so… um.. promise me that.. you’ll always stay..” he hesitated. saying those words out loud made him painfully aware of how utterly pathetic he was being. A moment of brief silence passed, and then he continued, “i’ll always be here to keep you safe.. I-. i’ll kill for you if i have to… just please.. please don’t leave me.” his voice cracked at the end of his sentence.

you wanted to speak up, to individually pluck all of these fears from his mind, to allow him to live freely, without carrying the weight of guilt that follows him everywhere; a looming shadow that never seems to leave him no matter how much good he does, or how much evil he removes from the world - none of that can fight away the burden of superiority; the cold, lonely view from the summit. he watches non-sorcerers living their normal lives every day, and behind the blindfold of arrogance that he wears with pride, he’s jealous of them. that’s all he wants in life. - a normal one. despite them being the reason he existed, what he lived to fight, he found that he, himself was the true curse. he was chained to sorcery whether he wanted to be or not. he could never quit, he was needed. he is the best. he saves thousands of people constantly, and does (mostly) nothing but good. and yet, nothing he does will ever bring back his friends - he knows that. but god, he has tried everything to move on.

he continues speaking, a low chuckle leaving his throat. “i’m being really pathetic right now huh? so much for being the stronges-” you cut him off abruptly, your eyes matched his now; glassy and decorated with tears. “satoru.” you began, gently cupping his chin and tilting it upwards, holding eye contact with him. “quit it with that ‘strongest’ bullshit. you have a name. a beautiful name, and you have an incredible personality, and you care for others more than you’d like to admit. having incredible power is just another addition to what makes you such a wonderful person. stop clinging to the title as if it’s a shackle, it’s just another layer to the sweet cake that makes up satoru gojo - and everyone loves cake!”  you flashed a dorky smile at him, cupping his cheek with your hands. he remained speechless, staring into your eyes with almost heart-shaped pupils. he looked like a sad little kitty cat. you sucked in a deep breath, waiting for the right words to come to you before continuing. “i love you. I love you so much that it hurts me to see you hurt. you never have to worry about me leaving you, okay? because, i firmly believe that we were put on this earth to be together. you complete me, baby.” for the first time that night, you saw a genuine smile spread on his face. even though it was small, barely there, you noticed it. “that’s corny.” he mumbled, and you laughed. “i guess it is, isn’t it? but it’s true y’know! you’re everything to me ‘toru. i adore you with every fibre of my being.” you placed a kiss on his forehead, immediately taking note of how he leaned into your touch. “i understand what you feel like right now, or at least i think i do. i know you’ve lost most of the people you love, and nothing i say will fully fill the hole they left with their losses. but, i promise you that i will always be here by your side no matter what. i will always be here for you, okay? so don’t ever forget that. and- and don’t you dare try to hide your sadness from me! i get that sometimes you don’t wanna talk about your feelings, and that’s okay. but please, know that you can talk to me. i don’t want you to ever think otherwise. even if it’s something i can’t help with, i’ll always be here to listen. “ your words were like a sweet relief to his aching mind, alleviating most of his worries by the mere promise of comfort alone. god, he was enamoured by you. he moved his hand from your waist, and placed it on top of your hand, which was currently caressing his cheek. he lifted it to his lips, and pressed a firm kiss to your knuckles. you smiled, your cheeks filling with warmth. “I’ll try to be more open ‘n honest from now on.. I promise” he said with an honest expression on his face. you could tell that he was slowly coming back to his former self. “thank you baby.” you kissed him again, this time on the tip of his nose. “no”, he started tracing delicate circles onto your hand. “thank you for bein’ so sweet. you’re too good for me.” his lips curved into the biggest smile you had seen that evening, the sight was almost enough to bring you to tears. you mirrored his relieved expression.

“c’mon, we still have some mochi left over in the kitchen. let’s get some sweets and cuddle up with a movie, i’ll even let you pick this time! or, if you’d prefer, we could keep talking? sound good?” you asked, slowly standing up. you held your hand out to him, and he grabbed onto it in seconds, allowing you to pull him up. he wrapped his arms around your waist, and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “best girlfriend ever.” he whispered into your skin; his words quickly replaced by goosebumps. you don’t think you could ever stop loving this man.

[foundfamily-connoisseur]

PUNCH OUT HCS CUZ I DONT GOT TIME TO DRAW THEM BUT THEY WONT LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

Something something the voices

This is so long I'm sorry

No I'm serious I started derailing I think

LITTLE MAC

Mexican-American! His ma is Mexican and immigrated to The Bronx, where she met Mac's dad (who we have nothing on lol, he dipped before Mac was born).

His ma? Oh yeah, she died :( He doesn't know how, just that he came home one day (latchkey kid) and saw the cops surrounding the apartment. Placed him in an orphanage but got into fights a lot and deemed him a 'problem child' (literally just an autistic kid grieving the loss of his mom)

As said, Lil Mac is autistic! For the most nonverbal and thus uses ASL, but also speaks English and Spanish from time to time(English from Doc, Spanish from his mother and childhood friends who helped him keep up). Spanish is his preferred language tho.

Narcolepsy haver. It usually doesn't interfere much with his actual boxing matches since he's learned to feel when they're coming and deal with them accordingly. Took him and Doc a while to figure out that he had it since they just chalked it up to his prior malnutrition(which also impacted his growth, capping him at a whole 4'9)

Affectionate(?): must be initiated by him. He's very much for hugging and holding hands but if someone else does it first he's like :/. Only people he's ok with is Doc Louis so far.

Trans: transman who figured himself out pretty early when he only played soccer with the boys out in the mud. His mom cut his hair super short as a 'punishment' for always getting dirt in his braids but jokes on her he loved it. Doc has been helping him with hormone blockers, and with the prize money saving up for surgery 🙏 you can do it maccie boy!!! No one else in the ring knows and he'd rather keep it that way thank you (both out of nerves but also why do they need to know 🤨 what are they the fbi???)

Fashion sense: if you try to get this boy in anything but a tank/shirt and shorts he will explode. This man rocks flip flops and sneakers for days and it's all that's in his wardrobe (maybe another hoodie or two). A lot of them are rather worn but he hates the idea of "wasting" money so he uses em till they're literally impossible to wear.

Very spiritual: believes in el Mal Ojo aka Evil Eye and such. (Mostly from his mother and the women on the block that took him in from time to time). If he thinks your vibes are off, he will do an egg cleanse and swears that they work (they do i can attest to that chat).

GLASS JOE

EDS HAVER!!!!! (Ie Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome). This man has glass bones and paper

he don't care he will fight till he's dead! That and boxing actually does rlly help him with his joint pains. He finds it kinda funny when ppl worry about him like "sorry guys i gotta lie down real quick i think my ribs went criss cross". He prefers to get around on wheel chair but can get by with crutches(to which he just lays on the bed forever afterward)

Cat dad!!!!: less him having an actual pet cat than him just tending to whatever feline that crosses his path. May or may not have some scratches on his hands don't worry about it.

Actually really good friends with Mac: (we're going to pretend that they aren't literally thousands of miles away shut up). One of the few to make an actual effort to learn ASL rather than pick it up slowly or have Doc translate. In turn, Mac has gone about learning bits and pieces of French, enough so that both can communicate in their respective language and the other can (mostly) understand them.

This man is such a critic like what do you mean the food lacked a certain "je ne sais quoi" or the movie "insisted upon itself". He really wants to be nice but if it has any touch of French, he is going to murder it because it isn't French enough or actually accurate.

Had an ex fiance to which they broke off for reasons he'd rather not elaborate.

VON KAISER

Tics: he has em. They worsen under stress, but occur randomly or if overstimulated

Served in the military before being discharged. He doesn't like talking about and his tics start acting up if the topic is brought up.

Widower: wife died fairly early into their marriage and he was absolutely distraught. They both always talked about having kids, and a part of him still wants that, but it won't be the same without his Engelchen.

Career: he had wanted to be an engineer, but after serving in the military couldn't bring himself to go into it. That, and being a boxing teacher let's him tend to kids, even if it means getting socked in the stomach. He always acts like a strict instructor, both from his own experience in the military and because he wants to keep the kids at arms length. Also his wife being a kindergarten teacher had nothing to do with it nooooo

Close friends with Hondo and Glass Joe. Bear Hugger is a friendly fella but his loud and boarish disposition gets him riled up. Gets along well with Little Mac and if Doc isn't present for whatever reason, he's good at helping Mac calm down if he starts getting overstimulated and vice versa.

He also totally doesn't have Lil Mac be a pseudo son to him and think about his kis could've been potentially his age who said that.

Emotional support animal: German shepherd called Hugo. That's his baby right there

Disco Kid

That man's a fruit your honor!!!! No but fr tho he's a queer man living his best life.

Also a drag queen! (Name pending). Doesn't really care for how others perceive him and goes with the flow really.

Definitely fought with his dad a lot when he was younger, but as he grew his father came around and now they have a pretty solid relationship.

He's a total mommas boy tho he will literally die for her. He also has a little sister who he plays dolls with. (And yes she asks him to say it in his girl voice iykyk)

Gets along with pretty much everyone besides Mr. Sandman really (Aran Ryan is an interesting case. You heard it from the grape vine but they have an on and off relationship).

An art major for sureeeee. Idk what kind but im sensing something

Really good with machinery though. Usually just so he can fix up his car and stereos.

KING HIPPO

He is for sure not human. I always draw him more beastly but he's probably closer to whales/hippos than actual people.

Like hippos, all that's fat is really just pure muscle. No cuz google up a hippo and remove their skin them bitches are SHREDDED!!!

Naturally very affectionate, although he prefers his pals in the minor circuit (and Lil Mac. Yes this is Little Mac supremacy everyone will be his friend).

Absolutely loves cocktails. They come with fruit how can he not. Funnily enough he despises apples though.

Has multiple wives: a primary wife and secondary wives. Has kids with most of them and naturally, the first born son will take his place when the time comes. (He does love all his kids and wives equally tho so don't worry about them).

Surpringly eloquent" while he can't exactly form human speech, his writing is impeccable, both in letter and in word choice. No one knows how he does it with those claws and big ass hands.

PISTON HONDA

This man has so much manga it's insane. This mf probably has a whole room dedicated to his collection. Yes most of them are Shojo and yes he has a lot of Sailor Moon merch and memorabilia. (although he does also enjoy other such Mangas like JJBA and Inuyasha. I'd say he's embarrassed about it but bro was reading Sailor Moon out in the open so id say he's at least fine with reading it publicly.

Has gotten some of the other boxers to read some of his recs and watch some animes with him (he will force you to watch Madoka Magica and Revolutionary Girl Utena. It's only a matter of time.) It's also how he got into other shows like Candy Candy (by Mac), The Golden Girls(by Disco Kid. He likes his oldies what can he say), and pretty much any and every telenovela ever created (Wow wonder who it could be).

Has a pet Shiba Inu that he loves to bits but DAMN does she test his patience sometimes. And he has a lot of it.

Also began learning ASL when he caught wind of Glass Joe doing it, although he practically forced Lil Mac to learn Japanese because damn it, sometimes the dub doesn't do the show justice!!!

Has two older sisters!!! He's the baby of the family lol and it don't matter if he can pick em both up they'll still pinch his cheeks and tease him.

BEAR HUGGER

Trans: a transgender man who's loud and proud. Never bothered with top surgery he ain't cutting off his girls!!! He could pick up the vibe™️ with Little Mac but he's not the type to try and force the conversation. He'll let Mac come to him on his own time, and if not then that's fine too.

Loads of animals: similar situation to Glass Joe, although now it applies to all animals. Bro is a Disney princess. He sticks his arms out and birds fly to perch on them. Can seemingly hold an actual conversation with animals and no one knows if he's losing it or if they are.

Family: an only child, but with loads of cousins who fill in that sibling role. He's actually really good with kids and takes care of his nieces and nephews from time to time. He has thought about being a dad from time to time (he'd really like to have a girl) but always decides against it.

Affectionate: to the highest degree. That man is always asking if ya need a hug and it ain't just a threat for a grapple/ear clap. He and King Hippo get along swimmingly as a result (if only they didn't die if they went to each other's respective home country 😔)

Prosthethic: ya cant tell cuz of his clothes, but he has a prosthetic leg! (Stops a bit below the knee). If he ever takes it off for whatever reason, he always goes "aw man, guess I'm on my last leg" and the crowd goes mild. Thinks it's the funniest shit ever tho and he won't stop making the joke (Little Mac made it worse by giving an actual chuckle. Mac you've doomed us all with your horrible sense in jokes. I blame Doc)

GREAT TIGER

Loves cats: absolutely adores them. This man has a cat onesie I can feel it in my bones. He hangs out with Glass Joe solely for the cat (also the baguettes).

Gossip: he has a horrible habit of gossiping that he's tried to curb but astaghfirullah sometimes he's gotta talk about Don's receding hairline😔 Mac isn't helping him pinche chismoso!!!

Doesn't like going to parties involving alcohol with the WVBA because almost always he's forced into designated driver. Usually he just teleports away because he's not dealing with that yall are calling an uber!!!!

Actively avoids searching up ingredients in things he eats (like gummies) because if he doesn't know it's not Haram.

Sneakerhead: very proud of his collection. Also really into rap music (we don't talk about his career...that never happened chat) and you will hear it blasting from his car.

Sister!!! Stealing this from a fic but he has a younger sister who works internationally. If she's there with him she serves as his translator.

Magic: not limited to clones or what's seen in the game, but it's his preferred type of magic. He can also transform things and people into other things/creatures. He accidentally made Mac into a rabbit and everyone had a field day with that one.

DON FLAMENCO

Chismoso: this man will shit talk anything and anyone. If you talked with him chances are you're part of a gossiping ring with the older ladies who work nearby. I think they're talking about how you're a puta but idk

Former womanizer: this man banged anything that had a beating heart and a pretty body. It wasn't until he met Carmen that he knew what love really was. Once they got together UGHHHH this man was a fucking loser for his Carmen. Took years to win her over but it was all worth it for his amor.

They talk about kids sometimes, but this mf childish that he sees it as having to share his beloved fiance. (They for sure have kids later down the line tho. Give them a minute damn!)

Beef: tbh he doesn't really get along with anyone; he just dislikes them all to varying degrees. He and Mac hate each other on the principle of one being Hispanic/Latino and the other being a Spaniard. Do NOT leave them alone for any reason. Last time they both argued about the spanish word for 'straw' and sent each other to the hospital where they argued some more.

Telenovelas are his life force. If you interrupt his showing of La Rose de Guadalupe, he will literally kill you.

Got Aran Ryan into it by accident: he was watching Teresa in the living room when Ryan was crossing to go to the kitchen for a bite. An hour later he's sat on the couch hand in heads. They both watch it together now.

Great cook: he makes a means paella and he knows it. Always makes it to show off 'Spain Superiority'. Little Mac hates his guts but he's not gonna turn down a free paella.

ARAN RYAN

People joke and say he has brain damage which is why he's so crazy, but he actually does have CTE so 💀

Family: aside from his general knack for recklessness, having a piece of shit mom and an even worse dad (who of course had to die in a freak accident at work) does not exactly leave you the most sound. He has loads of sisters and brothers, being the second oldest of the bunch (with one older sister of which the hate is mutual). It's a big factor to why he doesn't want kids; he's spent a big chunk of his life working to raise them.

Boxing: to him it was both an outlet for his eventually anger issues and a means to raise money in the same punch. It did lead to fucking him up physically, as after a particularly nasty bout with Mr. Sandman, an eye got knocked out of place so he's working with only 50%.

Very jittery: you can never catch this man staying still. Even in his sleep he either tosses or twitches a leg or arm. Trying to make him stay still just makes it worse.

Repressed Bi it's not even funny. His excuse for his on and off relationship with Disco Kid is "well he's basically a lady!" He'll come to terms with it eventually, but that's one hell of a long road.

Superstitious: biggest thing for him is luck. he breaks a lot of shit but mirrors are not one of them!

Low-key misogynistic: "my sister punches harder than ye, boy!" Like damn your sister must be knocking ppls jaws clean off the freak. If he ever finds out that Lil Mac is trans it's just gonna be him like "SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT" cuz now he's gonna get canceled on Twitter dot com by Super Macho Man😔😔😔

SODA POPINSKI

Married!!! Has a tiny little wife that he loves to bits. She will scold him and he's just all :]]]] wife...I luv her sm... he's a total wifeman

They've been trying for a kid (bro you can't just say that...gross). Naturally this man wants a shit load of them god help that woman.

A major reason to why he's been making efforts to curb his drinking habits! Of course he still hits the bottle every so often, but he's for sure gotten better than his first time in the ring.

Cooking skills: surpringly decent believe it or not! Anything with meat he's killer with and he always makes ridiculously large portions. (Yes it's because he wants to make something nice for his lady let me make a wife guy!!!!)

Really likes Beyonce. Major fan actually he goes to so many of her shows.

Horrible with social cues. This man does not understand when he's being too overbearing (to the detriment of his friendship with many alas😔 especially Von Kaiser and Little Mac). Tries to apologize by offering them a soda like 🥺🥤

Speaking of Little Mac, he once tripped over him (6'7 vs 4'9...oh dear). Flash forward to them in the hospital. They both swear to never speak of this again (also Soda gets him authentic mexican cola so like...we're all good here).

BALD BULL

Anger issues galore: got his father's temperament(don't we all???) And in addition to being bullied a lot as a kid, he hasn't really found the best way to manage. Usually he just goes out to a secluded field or heads out to the sauna, but the press has done little favors to his mental sanity.

Cat magnet: not of his own volition. They are drawn to him like flies to honey. He doesn't really mind them and are a nice way to de-stress.

Music taste: while he usually listens to classical music and instrumentals, he loves himself some girlie pop music. You pull out his ear buds and just catch "Girls just wanna have funnnnn" Before he punches you into the sun

Cattle farm: Inherited from his family, he loves all his cows to bits. They are his pride and joy. He has Glass Joe come over sometimes for some cheese and wine.

Isn't particularly close to any of the boxers beyond Glass Joe and Soda Popinski. He spends some time with Lil Mac, usually just to go out and get some ice cream or something. He likes the kids company cuz he isn't as energetic or demanding in the same regard a lot of teens are.

SUPER MACHO MAN

He for sure has a purse dog named princess. It's a white pomeranian with a pink bow i just known it.

Was a child actor! His family got him into the world early, staring as the sweetheart of whatever show or movie he was in. In his later teens, he was the heart throb before he left the scene as an adult to focus on boxing. His parents were at first disappointed, but after seeing the money roll in? They had no problems after that.

Romance: as expected, nothing permanent. He usually just has loads of flings or one time hook ups that never amount to anything, and he doesn't bother looking for anything "real".

Probably has a kid out there somewhere but if he does, he's denying it till his dying breath.

Similarly to Don, he doesn't really get along with anyone. For him it's just a matter of his own superficial nature. He absolutely detests Mac, but is the only one to know ASL fluently due to a former childhood friend. He doesn't use it beyond wanting to be bitchy in secret.

I know he's super tan but I'm not allowing him to be white. He's a lil something...will figure that out later.

MR SANDMAN

Yeah ngl I don't got a lot for him. I don't think i have anything actually. Huh

He mains Kirby in smash.

He used to have a lisp when he was younger

Yknow how some parents will have kids super far apart? Yeah his parents did that what do you mean he was 22 and he got a new baby sister. What the freak.

He absolutely hates Macs guts but also can't take him seriously on account that he's 4'9. Whose child is this. Literally, when he first entered the ring, he asked whose kid was this and that children weren't allowed in the ring. Lo and behind this was the schmuck that knocked the lights out of 12 other fully grown men, and he was coming for your ass next.

BONUS

DOC LOUIS

Took Mac in when he was around 9, formally adopted him as soon as he could. Heard of a ruckus for a missing child some minutes away and when he came back with Little Mac, he thought he found his parents. Then he got the situation explained to him about how he didn't actually have anyone, everyone just agreed to look out for him. There he officially took him in as his son.

Put the kid back in school after learning he hasn't been in since his mom died. He's considerably behind for his age, but has taken great strides to catch up. He's now just a year behind.

Definitely a major learning curve when it came to raising a child, much less one who barely spoke english(if he spoke at all) and prone to outbursts. It's been years since then and he can't imagine a world without that kid.

Had a wife but they divorced after he found out she had an affair. Sent him on a downwards spiral but he managed to pick himself back up. Having a kid to raise really helps him out.

Close to his sister, but that's about it. She's who gave him pointers on how to raise a kid, as they were about the same age. He doesn't think hes have done as well if it wasn't for her.

Former coach of Bald Bull, but parted ways after arguments on what exactly that wanted to do moving forward. They're amicable now, though.

[fernpetals]

Can you please write Yandere Constantine with a female reader who can see dead people's souls who are trapped on earth? She has a normal life and is an ordinary office worker. Those souls are her friends and usually communicate with her because they need her help to go to the afterlife. Sometimes they also save her from danger. She is a very kind person and helps them to be free, but that is not her main job; she cannot fight demons like Constantine. One day he saw her and realised how unique she is and became obsessed with her. 

Thank you ❤️

Finally, I have managed to complete this request!

Hopefully, you will like it.

Masterlist

Yandere Constantine x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of child deaths, grieving and paranormal encounters, yandere thoughts, stalking and misuse of occult

The GIF is not mine, all credits to the owner.

Unedited Piece

You watch as a man follows after a woman as they exit the restaurant you are sitting in. Unlike the woman, though, the man is faded, almost grey. His left hand still forming from the grey mist around him. A ghost---the ghost of her late husband. You do not know the woman but with one glance at her and the ‘figure’ that manifested right beside you. You know that she is a grieving widow, and it is her grief that is keeping her husband from entering the spirit world wholly. He swings between the mortal and the spiritual plane.

Very few like yourself can see them—all seven planes present behind veils of dimensions. But you choose to stop on the third. Beyond that…You do not want to know. Entities will know that you know and do not wish your great-grandmother’s fate upon you. 

Your mother says that you are a splitting image of her, and you know that is true, though she demanded all her portraits and pictures if any, to be burnt after her death. You have her powers, she communicates with you, but only sometimes. You like to think she also protects you. Maybe she does.

The back of your neck prickles when you feel a pair of sharp, calculating eyes. As if summoned, your gaze matches deep, brown orbs staring at you, but you feel as if they have your soul under the microscope.

.

.

Constantine tilts his head. Curiosity. That is what brings him to this boring restaurant filled with oblivious people. In his defence, he did not mean to follow you around like a creep. But he couldn’t help himself— someone who shares his vision—almost. Something is different, but he has not been able to put a pin on it. So here he is now.

Constantine first saw you right outside Midnite’s, petting a puppy—well, that was a shapeshifter, thankfully harmless. But then, he saw your gaze turn sideways, and he followed your gaze. A few feet away, stood a lost soul searching for the light. Only a few people have the ‘sight’, and he could feel it in the air that night—something was different—not off, just…distinct.

There is no difference in energy, your aura is different—a pack of contrasts—strong but vulnerable, resilient but with a fragility in it, welcoming, warm but guarded. Well, that is good. Being guarded is good. Constantine looks away, fiddling with his pack of nicotine. After his close brush with death and liberation, he has been…different. At least now he seeks the meaning rather than cynically turning away from everything good, thinking it as a cruel trick of God.  Sipping on his coffee, he watches you leave. He does not follow you this time, he has all the confirmation he needs. You can see the dead, and he hopes that you know about the dangers that come with your power. 

—----

Although reluctantly, Constantine has come to believe in fate. He has fate to blame when he finds you at the hospital he visits for his ‘maintenance’, something he likes to call his regular follow-up check-ups regarding his miraculously healed lung cancer.

Constantine is surprised by this, but it is what it is—he feels you. He feels your presence before turning to his side, watching you as you enter the children’s ward. He finds himself moving towards the children’s ward before he realises it. But his steps cease just outside—from the see-through glass, he watches you stand in front of a crib. You hold the edges and close your eyes before your shoulders slump and you look at the window. Constantine follows your gaze—that is when he sees it—a luminous orb.

The baby is dead.

And you just helped its soul find the path to the light.

—---

He has not been actually following you. At least that is what he tells himself as he paces to seem casually walking a few feet behind. He makes a conscious effort not to really look at you, especially the back of your head, you would know—people like you and him always know. But it is almost midnight and you are walking through these isolated blocks in a city like LA and as far as he has deduced, you have no sense of self-preservation. He was wrong, you are not guarded, just curious and observant. He knows by now where your home is and he simply wants to make sure that you reach home safely.

That’s when he sees it.

Lurking in the shadows, drooling at your scent. Standing at a staggering nine feet, maybe even more, hunched with vacant eyes following your unsuspecting figure—gliding along. Constantine knows this…creature, this demon too well, it is ready to strike!

.

.

You are drowning. Not literally but that is what it feels like. A chance contact with a deceased little boy of eight has left you with this sinking feeling, such unbearable sadness that you cannot bring yourself to rise and build up your aura. You should be more careful. You have arrived at the conclusion that you are in need of a mentor. Someone who can show you—

It all happens so fast. One moment you are walking and the next, a deafening growl surrounds you, you feel a gust of wind with a foul smell that makes your stomach twist, but that is all pushed to the back as simultaneously, you are also tackled on the ground. You let out a startled scream as your elbow takes the hit. A man is shouting in another language with his back turned to you as he shields your body with his. It sounds familiar. It has been a while but you have no time to remember when you hear an unearthly screech from above.

But as you look up where the man is pointing a locket at, you see…nothing. But you feel it. Its vile energy overwhelms you and surrounds you, it’s like poison in your veins. You cannot even sense the man’s energy except for the fact that there is something beyond his body that is keeping you safe. 

And just as quickly as the 'energy' came, it vanished.

The stillness that has followed leaves you stunned.

The man turns to you. He is pale and…well, you are surprised how you still cannot read his energy. You have to depend solely on your intuition when you take his hand he silently offers to help you stand up.

You have seen him before. He is the same man from the restaurant.

“If you decide to embrace your powers, you gotta keep yourself protected, not walk around with open arms like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

You blink at the looming man, meeting his condescending gaze.

“I—I tried?” That is all you can manage after the terrifying experience.

“Do you even understand what it was?”

“Uh…No?” It slips out of your mouth between laboured breaths.

—------

That is how you find yourself in a library with high ceilings, windows and an overall grand appearance. You know that you should be cautious but until now, you have not sensed anything ‘dangerous’ or ‘terrifying’. Melancholic, cynical yes, but you cannot read his aura entirely. Now you know the reason though.

John Constantine, as he calls himself, shares gifts similar to yours. But is far more experienced and has been dealing with the darker realm, the one you never felt ready to touch. You always wanted to avoid it actually, but tonight, you have come to realise that just because you turn away from the darkness, the darkness does not turn away from you.

Even though he has not explicitly offered to help you, his actions suggest so. You do not want to jump to conclusions, but the heavy books you carry while he strolls between the shelves, adding more to the increasing pile, can be considered ‘help’—though he might not be a gentleman about it.

“These are delicate.” He scoffs when you end up dropping a few. “I’m sorry. They're heavy.”

He does not look particularly mad, just assesses you, picks up the books, takes some from you, and continues to walk while you sigh in relief.

“And that’s all. Start with reading these, we can discuss them when I have time and you will get started. But remember, the books are not always accurate.”

“So why are we reading them?”

That’s a dumb question, and the look he gives you reaffirms the fact.

“You, not me, I know these by heart. You, on the other hand, are one ignorant little thing, skipping around without any protection. How did they not notice until now?”

“Who are you exactly?” You end up responding with the question that has gripped you.

“You felt that thing in that alley?”

You can nod, feeling a chill cascade down your spine.

“Yeah, that and every other like it…I’m their worst nightmare.” He smirks, popping a gum into his mouth.

—--------------------

If someone said to Constantine that he had a crush on you, he would have scoffed. If it were five months ago. 

Five months into spending time with you helping you learn more about the world you are a part of without a choice, and helping you on your path to understanding and reaching your true potential, Constantine can’t say what he feels for you is a harmless, passing fancy. It’s more than a crush.

Even though it is not official, Constantine is your mentor, he chose you. Why? He cannot quite put a finger on it. But being intensely self-aware, he knows that he is a selfish asshole anyway. 

Why else would he keep some key knowledge from you? He wants you to depend on him, and run to him when things get a bit too murky. Those dirty waters are not for an angel like you. They are vile, you cannot handle them. But he can—he is vile too, perhaps. Why else would he struggle to keep his pants from tightening when you look at him with those wide, curious eyes? 

You have purposely kept yourself away from the darkness, but people like you and him cannot ignore it. It calls to you, it will chase you down until you are compelled to look right into its eyes and confront the horrible truth that the universe does not revolve around humans. In fact, humans are far more insignificant and vulnerable than they know. Toys. that’s how some entities see them. Toys to play with and twist around. Their powers are beyond a normal mind’s comprehension. 'Normal' people cannot see through planes, dimensions, or the veil keeping the most dreadful entities at bay.

He likes to deceive himself with the argument that he only tracks you because you are still vulnerable, only starting out with some defence spells and methods. It’s a long, winding, rough path. He has put a protective spell on your apartment to keep you from getting tracked down. But pairing it with a binding spell was unnecessary. However, you do not need to know that. You are safer that way, always ending up returning to your home before midnight.

But a painfully conscious man like Constantine cannot deceive himself for long. There are moments of intense self-reflection when he questions if he has let his only chance to reserve a place in heaven slip away. And there are days when he can only dream of burying his nose into the curve of your neck, feeling his hands run down your bare skin and tangle his fingers with your hair. There are days when he dreams of touching your lips with his in the most reverent of all manners. There are moments when he wonders if worshipping you is more relevant. After all, you have been far kinder to him than any form of divinity.

But what if his redemption had always been you? What if finding you has been his destiny all along?

But there are times when he looks at you and wants to grab you, he wants to pick you up and never let you go. He wants to devour you—be in your soul, your mind, your heart. There are times when he wonders how sweet those thighs would look wrapped around his hips and thrown over his shoulders. He wonders how pretty those lips would look, wrapped around his manhood—your sweet gaze on him, lovely eyes looking up, ready to please as he taints the invisible halo around you with his twisted intentions. 

He will be the poison blackening your deep, red, sweet blood.

Constantine knows that the right path would be to stop, to let you be. But for once he has come as close as feeling truly alive, without eyeing heaven. His heaven is right there, in your eyes, in your presence, maybe true heaven would be your velvet walls wrapped around his length, his fingers exploring that lovely mouth and sweet cunt.

He knows his thoughts and actions are leading straight to hell, but Constantine has learnt the tricks, loopholes, lies, truths, and many in-betweens.

Besides…

You are worth every sin.

He thinks to himself, hanging some herbs right above your bed. He would call it a ‘protective measure’. It is not a lie, but it will not protect you from his nightly visits in your dreams.

****

This might have a second part but for now, consider this an open-ended piece.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Honestly trauma bonding is the way to go 😌✨

Reader who adopted a child and loved them more than anything in the world, since she had no family or pets (being spiderwoman is a sacrifice, after all.).

Reader's Green Goblin killed their child brutally in front of her, leaving Reader with immense trauma and depression. (After torturing and then killing GG in the same gruesome way as he did with her child)

Reader who abandons being a Spider-person and goes back to her old job, being a professional gymnast.

Miguel who finds Reader's world, and asks who there isn't a Spider there if the canon event of the radioactive spider biting someone happened long ago.

Miguel who investigating, finds out that Reader is the spider there, however they abandoned their heroic life (mostly because of backlash from the media)

Miguel who one day goes to Reader's house to get answers, first explaining who he is and what the fuck that orange portal is 💀

Miguel understands how Reader feels and explains his backstory, and persuades (forces) Reader to join the Spider Society.

Miguel, that slowly falls in love with Reader and turns into an obsession. Maybe in the future, he can give Reader his kids so they won't have to grieve as much for their dead kids.

You were meant for him.

He shouldn't say that, but no bone or muscle in his entire body disagreed with this statement that he is claiming.

He fell in love with you before he even realized it and happily accepted the fall, knowing just from how you spoke to him, that you know how to love. You love the way that he wants to be loved. And he wants that. He wants you.

He was so goddamn in love with everything about you. He loves the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, the way you look at people, and the way you look at him.

He wants those eyes on him all of the time. So, he tries to work for it.

You looked so tired every single day. Since he found you alone in your apartment of your universe, he knew you held luggage no one else had behind them.

He wanted to at least take half of the weight off of your shoulders. He wanted to brush the midnight tears off of your face. He wanted kiss your callused hands. He wanted to have you.

He truly believes he can fix you.

"There is no fixing me. Nobody can save me."

He had never been so tuned into a conversation before. Mask off, sitting across from you in your living room, on the edge of his seat, staring into your iron eyes. You didn't want to let anyone back in again.

Hearing about your past only made him more determined.

"I can't put that suit back on again.....no. I killed enough people and killed off enough of myself. I don't benefit from that life anymore. Hell, my own city that I fought for doesn't want me anymore. Why the fuck would I even bother trying??" You try to laugh it off and killed the rest of your drink.

"The only person that could make me put that back on is the one I did all of this bullshit for."

You let the silence grow for a little to collect the words building up in your throat. But to speak it was a different battle.

"S/he was mine. S/he was all I had. Every day I had to wake up and go to sleep seeing her/his face, and it's all I needed to continue living another fucking day. And s/he's gone! I thought sparing lives would do me good, and now my babygirl/boy is gone. What the fuck am I supposed to do?" You whispered the words, as if it was forbidden to even speak them aloud.

And every single word you spoke made Miguel feel like he was living in your skin. Every question you asked, everything you said you felt is so close to experience of losing his little girl, it makes him nauseous. He only knew you for a few hours and already wanted to hold you in his arms.

"I can't....I just...can't put that thing back on. I really can't. I'm sorry." Your words slowly turned into a mutter as you fidgeted with your hands.

He doesn't know how many hopeful "yes, you can"s he whispered back to you with comforting (consensual) hugs before you had on that damned suit again and was in the middle of HQ.

His room was quiet. Peaceful, as he typed away on his technology you weren't interested in at all.

You felt so naked in the suit, but for some reason, it made you feel more secure than you'd ever felt these past few years......maybe this would be okay for now.

Miguel looked back at you, seeing you staring off into the distance and stopped typing to place his hand on your shoulder.

You looked up at him with those sad, tired eyes. Just seeing your face as clearly as it was, it continued to give him hope to be the one to support your during your healing process. You clearly needed the help. And if anyone could do it well, he was certain that it would be him.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

The Evolution of Passion: Culmination

Decided on a more meaningful steep for this one. Phoenix Rising . calendula, wild cherry bark, green tea, rooibos, rosehips and orange peel.

I got an ask (truncated) from danmeiljie " thoughts about what happens in the woods in act 1, and how he initiates with his partner in the graveyard in act 3, But i was curious if you made any connections to his emotional journey and how that's reflected in these different sex scenes and his role in them."

This is my opinion analysis of the graveyard scene. This one might trigger some people. Please read with caution.

WARNING: Game Spoilers, Topics of Sex, Abuse, and Adult themes/Language. Not underage appropriate.

This is not fact, just opinion based off my own and game experience. As always, how anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right! No blame, no shame, it's your game.!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raise your hand if you died here. And I don't mean just a "little death".

Gods, the level of impact this confession had was intense given his avoidant nature throughout the game. I equate it to that moment when someone says their pet doesn't like anybody and they decide to sit in YOUR lap. Those moments are pure wild magic. And so was this one.

Taking Tav to the graveyard is another planned move. But not to manipulate them. And, in my opinion, not to seduce them either.

Thanks to Tav's help, he is finally free of Cazador, but he wants them to bear witness as he frees himself from one more captor.

"Maybe, but he did take it. There's almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock. For nearly two centuries I stalked the streets like a ghost. While the person I was lay here, dead and buried."

Astarion's first victim was someone he never really forgave himself for unwittingly handing over to Cazador to be consumed. Himself.

To me, his grave is a symbolic reference of who he thought he should have / could have been still buried deep within his subconscious. A person he barely remembered, but still grieved for. Lost and decayed under centuries of abuse. Decades of being whatever Cazador said he was. Sad, pathetic, little, owned, nothing. Hollowing him out into the ghost he felt he became.

Some of the worst prisons and punishment's you can imagine, exist within our own minds. The wardens are the echo's of others belief system. The whips are others' opinions of you. The bars are your own acceptance of it.

"I can't be what you want to see in me."

And what a relatable and lamentable ponderance for a lot of us. Who would we be without various trauma painting our minds and bodies in ways that distort our own view of ourselves?

Would we be more social? More trusting? More loving? More loved? More worthy of our own consideration? More successful? More satisfied? More... alive?

" This place reeks of death and I want to feel alive again."

It is a very rare thing to find someone who is willing to walk alongside you during your "Frankenstein" phase of healing. The chaotic mess of putting yourself back together and figuring out how to function in the new arrangement. The emotional scars slowing our motion. The rage fevers , the imposter syndrome infections, the weeping wounds that bleed on those who didn't cause them, the pain that drives us into a self induced isolations.

"Iv always been alone. I don't see why that would change now."

*frowns into cup with deep understanding.*

But for Astarion, Tav came along.

Understanding that when he growled and snapped it was because he was scared. So they were patient.

Understanding that he craved companionship, but was untrusting of it. But they cared anyway.

Understanding that his vampiric nature didn't make him inherently bad. So they trusted him. Objectively stupid as that was.

Understanding that his need to feel powerful and in control of everything was a grasp at never wanting to feel helpless again. So they helped him feel safe.

Understanding that he couldn't see the good in himself through his blinded eyes. So they offered what they saw of him.

"You saw something in me. Someone else I could be."

What is that? If not love.

It is said that we don't actually fall in love with people. We fall in love with who we become within the love they give us. What he wants is not just Tav on the physical level, but to continue feeling alive within the safety of their love for him.

Accepting that he has always been more than what others made him to be, he now has the strength to not only say goodbye to the idea of who he should have been, but also lay to rest the person he created to survive. Giving honor and forgiveness' to that persona, and making way for the birth of the person he wants to become.

The Star of Bethlehem flower (Ornithogalum umbellatum) symbolizes purity, innocence, honesty, hope, and forgiveness. 

HE gets to choose who he becomes going forward. What was done can not be undone, but he can choose what to do with it. What meaning the sacrifice will have. What the knowledge of it does to him. It has always been in his power to transmute that poisonous experience into something different, something powerful. To rise from the proverbial ashes to be born again. He just needed someone to remind him of that fact.

Consider yourself reminded as well dear reader..

This included reclaiming and repurposing his view and use of desire. Thus his proposition.

"with everything that life has to offer."

If you boil it all down to its base essence, sex is an act of life. Not only intended to create life, but also used to heal and offer connection. When used properly, of course. This has been quite lost in modern times. And this reason, to me, is why most SA survivors never fully walk away from sex. The desire for that intended connection is still there. So his seemingly misplaced flirt of "If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded," actually does make sense here.

He is being cheeky, as he is known to be, but he also wants Tav to know that he trusts them and feels good about them desiring him as well. "I could be persuaded" mirrors Tav's "You don't have me yet." line the first night you are together. Its meant to be a bratty but fun flirt. Very "Oh, I would love a night of passion, but do give me all the reasons why you desire me. No seriously, tell me what you love about me. Wait, maybe you should write it all down."

Also, with Cazador stabbed, eviscerated, beheaded, shit on, burnt, and yeeted off the ledge into the abyss, he is safe to desire Tav now. Sex with him no longer equates to a death sentence.

Unlike the first night in the woods, or the second night at the grove party, Astarion and Tav have developed real intimacy (into me see) between each other. There is no need for power plays and theatrics here. No need to be half naked, using his body as a tool of seduction. No need to be grandiose using pick up lines to entice.

Instead he is fully clothed and mirroring Tav in a kneeling position. Symbolizing their equality in this moment. A very humble " I want all that you are." on his lips.

If I had to categorize MY Astarion into a sexual subtype. I see him as Pan: demisexual. The bond he feels with Tav is strong and for a demi, that is very seductive. You love him too and that makes him feel safe, seen and...well...

Aww..that's so sweet. But, why does he push Tav down?

There are various possibilities for this. If Tav rode him to the ground in the woods, it could be a turn about is fair play move. I mean, very fair if you ask me.

Or, it could be a loud and clear demonstration of him proving he is the master of his own desires now. Its straight forward dominant behavior. No games, no posturing. He pushes Tav back as if impatient to have them submit to him. Crawling up their body, caging them in with his arms and giving them full on, raw, naked, unadulterated eye contact. Claiming their mouth eagerly with is own. Spreading them open to him with his knee. Declaring that they are his and he is in want.

His first blood, first love, and first time in his new life.

Mercy...

It was Tav who wanted to wake up next to a handsome virgin every morning. Right? *wink*

Happy chosen birthday my beloved elf.

Now, for you dear reader.

One thing I want you to remember when you start feeling sad or hopeless that Astarion is not real. That there is no Tav out there for you, remember that you are Tav. You loved this damaged mess in all his undead glory. Which means you have the capacity and ability to give that effort, kindness, love and patience to yourself as well. Not having someone does not mean you are unlovable or unworthy. It just means its not time yet. You may still still have quests to complete and dragons to slay. Or maybe you are the dragon? Hoarding riches and eating idiots who venture too far into your domain. Either way, its all part of being alive. Neither good nor bad, until you deem it such. Chose joy when you can.

[strawberryshortcake1495]

Mourning the Loss of Innocence

Caryn Pines sat in the old husk of what used to be her home. With her son Stanford at college, her husband Filbrick at work, and her youngest son Shermie at school, she was all alone in the pawnshop. She stood up from her chair and decided to go visit her son’s old room. No, not Shermie’s room. It’s only been 2 weeks since the funeral and it seems like everyone has already forgotten him. About her little boy. About Stanley. Her little free-spirited Stanley who took his own life because the cruel world failed him. The fact that nobody except her showed up to his funeral said everything. She slowly entered the room that Stanley shared with Stanford during their childhood. As she did, her eyes drifted onto something on the window sill. It was a strange oversized rat who turned around and stared at her with its wide beady eyes. She knew what it was. It was Shanklin, Stanley’s pet rat. She never liked it, but she allowed it to stay because of her little boy. But now her little boy was gone, so she had no reason to keep it here. But judging by its sparkling eyes, she knew what it was here for. 

“He’s gone.” Caryn said coldly. The rat let out a small squeak. “Get out.” The woman snarled, her eyes dull and lifeless. But Shanklin stayed put, not making a noise as it kept staring at her. That was her breaking point. “Get out! Stanley’s gone!” She grabbed the closest thing she could find and threw it at the pest. “STANLEY’S GONE!! HE’S DEAD, AND HE’S NOT COMING BACK! GET OUT! GET OUUUT!!!” Caryn cried, falling to her knees. When she looked back up at Shanklin, its beady black eyes looked watery, as if it was grieving with her. The woman collapsed right there, sobs and rapid breaths racking her body until she slowly reached her arm out to the rat. Shanklin climbed onto her arm and crawled closer to her. Caryn held the thing close to her chest as she cried and cried. Together, they both mourned the loss of a loved one. Someone who they both loved. They thought about what his future could’ve been if he held out for a little longer. But right now, they just cried. It didn’t matter if she was a human and it was a rat, grief was universal. 

(art by @ruspettaa on twitter)

[personal-progress-dropout]

The Rainbow Sheep

(Yes, I know, very original and creative title, but it gets the job done. Get ready for personal stories and too many parenthesis.)

In my childhood, whenever gay people were mentioned, it was with the same tone you’d use for someone with terminal cancer. It was a tragedy. They were lost, they had distanced themselves from God, and they were grieved like the dead. Sometimes it felt like people would rather their gay brothers and sisters be dead instead of gay. Of course, we should always be kind and welcoming, love the sinner hate the sin, etc., but honestly, it felt like you could never truly be accepted if you were gay. There was a distance, and it was always the gay person's fault.

For example—on June 26, 2015, the U.S. Supreme Court legalized gay marriage in all fifty states. I was thirteen years old. That Sunday, there was a special meeting at church to discuss the new development and reinforce The Family Proclamation. I remember very little of what was said, but I remember what I felt. I remember that the atmosphere felt like the greatest of tragedies had occurred, and I remember being told that we had to defend traditional marriage. We had been given the duty of defending the Family, something that the world wanted to destroy. (I use Family with a capital F because it always seems like we’re defending an unreachable ideal instead of the messy, glorious reality.) Nobody ever used that language directly, but I certainly felt the implication, and the language they did use drew up a stark divide of ‘us vs. them.’ 

I wholeheartedly believed this, and I was going to do everything I could to strive towards the ideal. I was going to get married in the temple and start my own eternal family! There was just one problem with that—I didn’t see men as romantic partners. My future husband was a faceless doll set in the life I wanted to have: my vision for the future included kids, a house, pets, and a job, but I had no idea where a husband was supposed to fit in my life. The ‘crushes’ I had as a kid were a fun game of pretend because girls were supposed to crush on boys. The older I got, the more exhausting the game of make-believe became. Looking back on my high school years, I realize that I was never actually attracted to the boys I wanted to date; I simply wanted to hang out with them. If they were attracted to me, that would be nice, and it would definitely stroke my ego, but I didn’t want them. I wanted to be wanted.  

I’ve always gravitated to women more than men, even as a child. It’s a running joke among queer women that when you see a beautiful girl you don’t know if you want to be her or be with her, but I’ve always been able to make the distinction. Women were easier to develop crushes on than men. I could differentiate between attraction and admiration, and after I came out it was incredibly frustrating to hear people say I was confusing the two. I was enchanted with the sway of a classmate’s hips, the bark of her laughter, the passion of her voice. If I had changed the pronoun to ‘he’, everyone would assume I was in love. 

I realized I was queer when I was sixteen years old, and it was terrifying. Gay people were the ‘other’, they were either set on destroying the Family or they were expected to live out a solitary life in the hope that they would get a heterosexual happily-ever-after in the Celestial Kingdom. I didn’t want to destroy the Family! I didn’t want to die alone! There were certain men that I found handsome, so I determined that I was attracted to men (in theory) and therefore nobody needed to know. I could go through my life with nobody the wiser, and I would never have to risk the alienation that comes with coming out.

And it's a risk. Parents will tell their children that they will always love them and there’s nothing they can do to change that. This is simply not true. I grew up with these same reassurances, but I was never specifically told that I could be gay and my parents would still love me. I’m incredibly lucky. Despite the way my parents were raised to regard LGBTQ+ people (which in all honesty was pretty mild compared to some of my friends' parents), they valued the commandment to love God and their neighbors over anything else. It was still one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life because I was walking into unknown, potentially dangerous territory. In the end, I’m so glad that I did. My parents and I understand each other better now, and I don't have to carry the weight of secret-keeping anymore.

Of course, there are still misunderstandings and miscommunication. I was frustrated because my parents didn’t want me to come out to my sisters until we were older. I felt like a dirty secret, and it felt like there was a layer of separation between me and my sisters. There are moments when I feel othered—when I know I can never come out to certain parts of my family, because they would never look at me the same way. (I might someday. Who knows.) When I see legislation that forbids talking about LGBT in schools and how gay literature is being banned from libraries, and how members of my family don't see a problem with this, because aren't they a bit young for that anyways? (I wasn't too young to be taught that I should marry a man in the temple and have children that I should raise in the faith, but that's besides the point.)

I get annoyed when I hear my orientation referred to as a ‘trial’ and something that will be made right in the afterlife. I don't consider it to be a trial--I think it's an aspect of who I am, and the trial comes from people who have a restricted view of the world.

I love my faith. I love the assurance that comes with knowing I'm a child of God, and I love how we as a church believe that we can become greater than we are through living gospel principles, but it should come as a surprise to nobody that the church is an institution made up of imperfect people. We have a long way to go, but I have hope. Look at me! I went from a deeply conservative teenager who believed that gay marriage was a sin (I'm not even sure I knew trans people existed at the time) to someone who accepts their identity as queer and tries to make the world a more accepting place. I can change, and I like to believe that the people around me can too. We can become greater than what we are today.

[reilora-borealis]

a shadowgast headcanon

I imagine that a short while after Caleb's death, Essek, who has seen a few members of the Nein die but has never been shattered by grief like this, who has been alone for so much of his life already, realizes how much longer he will have to be alone, and it breaks him.

He will never again set foot in the tower; try as he might to recreate it, it won't be the same. He understands better than anyone that magic can stop time, heal wounds, bring people back from the dead, but it's all just temporary. It's not natural, as Caduceus keeps reminding him over and over as he bargains. It's not what he would have wanted.

Worst of all, Essek knows - in that hopeless, irrational, melodramatic, fundamentally true way that a person knows things when they're grieving - that he will never love anyone in the same way ever again.

So, in a moment of weakness, for the first time in his almost 200 years of life, Essek casts find familiar.

Of course, there were the cats that Caleb kept in their cottage, plus the strays that he fed in the back garden. There were the dogs that Beau and Yasha adopted, the menagerie of critters Jester collected over the years and foisted upon all of their friends. But Essek knows none of them will be around for long. Compared to the lifespan of a drow, most pets are like mayflies. They will all leave too, sooner or later. Everything will.

He doesn't know what to expect, as he's casting the spell. He doesn't really have a shape in mind, he's just looking for something to take the loneliness away, anything, calling blindly into the dark to see what answers back. He thinks this is foolish, this exercise. He thinks he will never heal. He thinks of Caleb.

When he completes the ritual, he opens his eyes and there before him is a cat. A familiar brown Bengal tabby cat.

And Frumpkin climbs into Essek's arms. Because someone needed this fey spirit once, long ago, someone in pain. And even though Caleb set him free, he knows that someone new needs him now.

[theamityelf]

Okay at this point am just gonna start calling myself chai anon if you don't mind because it seems like am here to stay with the ideas (ahoge makoto, sharing makoto between students)

Okay soooooo i was thinking about class 77 reaction to their minis after leaving the simulation

And this is perhaps in an au where they all live? Or maybe if like canon only makoto,kyoko,aoi, byakuya, yashiro,toko live

BUUUUT basically they leave the simulation and are like :O

Because HEY their minis that they had to take care of are now not minis,just normal people

But despite that I think perchance habits are still hard to break whether it be kazuichi looking out for chihiro or mahiru making sure hifumi doesn't do anything you get my point

But I just wanna see when nagito sees big makoto or when the class does they'd be like '... nothing changed' because they're right, makoto is still the same clumsy guy that gets lost repeatedly and that sometimes the class has to look for him albeit not as much,so maybe like nagito would also keep up the habits he built on petting him or the class would sometimes pull at his ahoge if makoto insists on working when he should get some sleep

Ahhhh now am imagining it with the au of makoto being fuyuhiko's mini but an all honesty am all out of brain juice currently because am studying for an exam when I got stuck with the idea

This is a threat,you will see me again with more ideas :)

Chai anon-

(I look forward to it! 😁)

Mini Classmates AUs Masterlist

You know, from a rehabilitating-the-Remnants standpoint (in this AU), I'm sure the idea behind the mini kouhais was to give the Remnants an opportunity to care about someone who depended on them and couldn't do much/anything for them in return.

Like, the Neo World Program was meant to be a scenario where they were experiencing communal love for their classmates as a collective, friend love for those they specifically connected with, and selfless love for the kouhai they were taking care of.

But they definitely missed the mark on that last point, because the takeaway for a lot of them definitely ended up being, "Some of my mental health is now staked on the fact that this person depends on me and I get to take care of them and project feelings onto them and keep them close."

That possessiveness we talked about is going to be propping up a lot of the weight for their sense of self, once the foundations of who they are get shaken by remembering what they've done.

And when the feeling of ownership they had over their kouhais is challenged by them being people-sized, I don't think all of the Remnants are going to be willing to let go. A lot of them are going to want to act out some version of that relationship on the full-sized kouhais.

And after everything they've done, there's a lot they can justify now. After all, if cuddling with their kouhais keeps them from relapsing into despair and committing bigger atrocities, then they should do everything in their power to make sure they can cuddle with their kouhais, right?

(Basically, A Panel of Hope Experts, but for everyone.)

The matter of whether or not the whole 78th class is alive becomes huge, in this case.

If not, one imagines the Neo World Program was supposed to have a whole process for letting the proxies for the people who died say goodbye and go away and just generally break things to the Remnants gently and give them time to grieve before the full brunt of the apocalypse hits him.

Instead, the killing game happened, and there was presumably no time to adjust to their kouhais actually being dead before the Remnants woke up with a deluge of traumatic memories and had no one to make a little sleep space for or carry to the dining hall or anything.

They just have these six. And Aoi doesn't need Akane to cut up her food anymore. Makoto still falls a lot, but he doesn't need them to help him up. Toko doesn't need to be protected from Gundham's hamsters, Byakuya doesn't need to be helped up to the sink basin, they can take care of themselves.

But a lot of the Remnants really want to act like they can't.

And those whose kouhais died find themselves very attached to whichever survivor was closest to them. Hiyoko is even more attached to Aoi than Akane is; Ibuki again joins Nagito in smothering Makoto; Mikan is obsessed with the fact that Yasuhiro was one of the last ones to genuinely try to connect with Taka.

(Kazuichi is mostly just bitter about everything.)

If the 78th class is alive, then that's a bit better for everyone. Kazuichi would definitely be less bitter if Chihiro was alive to care about. But Taka should be worried, because Mikan will be the clingiest she's ever been. And Fuyuhiko definitely won't like being shorter than Mondo again.

In this situation, pretty much everyone can just fixate on their specific kouhai, instead of having to collectively share.

Chiaki wasn't really human, so Celeste doesn't have a senpai. Just imagining Mikan eagerly volunteering to take her in. It's as if she's just adopted two black-haired, red-eyed orphans.

Either way, we end up in a situation where, first of all, some of the Remnants will be very quick to make their kouhais need them.

(The Makoto ahoge hack, definitely. He'll be trying to get work done, and one of them just starts brushing his hair, and he's like, "I know what you're doing. It's not gonna work." But he's asleep in minutes, and they get to carry him to bed or let him sleep across their lap. And I'm sure at least some of the other Remnants have found similar things that make their kouhais sleepy or vulnerable.)

And second of all, if Hajime/Izuru thinks it will benefit his friends' recovery, he will make sure the kouhais need their senpais. Maybe he'll lightly poison them so they'll be sick for a while.

(Maybe he omits Kyoko from whatever he does, just out of personal loyalty. She was his mini, after all. She can observe from the sidelines alongside him. He'll make sure she doesn't interfere.)

[zeketarion]

﹒ LEFT BEHIND! ﹔ ft ＃ zeke yeager ﹐ 🍒 ﹒　　 ׅ 　

CONSPECTUS﹕a living reminder of what he sacrificed, of what he left behind in pursuit of a "saving" opportunity for the eldian people.

PAIRING﹕zeke yeager × female!reader ﹒ post-rumbling

CHAPTER(S)﹕previous ﹒ next

CONTENT WARNING﹕pregnancy & childbirth (mentioned) + grieving + single-parenthood + slight ptsd + dead!zeke + dark themes + pet names (zeke calls you peach) (i know not everyone is for pet names) + intentional lowercase & more as the story progresses

AUTHOR'S NOTE﹕i have an ao3, which also has this. updates will be faster there. here's a link.

levi sits in his wheelchair, waiting at the stove, watching his uncooked meat sizzle in the hot pan. "veil, pass me the salt."

with his sleeves rolled up and his hand bandaged; covering his two amputated fingers, levi manages to cook without much assistance. in the corner of his still sightful eye, he can see veil walking. her small feet tapping against the harden wood floor.

she uses her stool to reach up into one of the tall cabinets, her hand searching for something her eyes can't see. though eventually, she grabs the right thing.

"thank you." levi takes the glass from her, a few shakes and their food is salted enough for his taste. even though he hasn't eaten any of it yet.

the young blond looks up at him despite the man not being that tall.

"you're welcome!" she chirps.

silence lingers on after.

"where does salt come from?"

levi pauses, he didn't expect to be asked any weird questions. really, he doesn't know the answer. most of the time he doesn't know the answers to her random questions.

she's smart for her age, only five yet already so articulate and curious.

the scarred ackerman doesn't respond right away and neither does he make eye contact with her, still facing the stove.

not like he could stare into those eyes again.

"not sure," is all levi says.

"does it come from the ocean, because me and mama went there once and the water was salty." she continues to ramble. "but why does it taste. . .sour?"

sour?

levi's expression falters, then does he finally turn around. lowering the temperature of the stove.

". . .you're an interesting kid, y'know that?" he wouldn't admit it aloud but he's grown to care for the girl. he watched her grow, she was placed into his arms at such an early age. confusion shook him when you introduced him to her.

he killed her father, he hated what he stood for, he hunted him down. he left you without a lover, veil, without a father. yet you never blamed him for any of it.

.

.

.

.

it's been five years, by now you thought that you would feel somewhat numb.

but the guilt still eats at you, bit by bit. leaving you asking yourself if there was something that would've made him stay. you knew, as soon as he walked out that door. . .that trouble would follow.

zeke's head stone sits still, there wasn't even a body to bury. it lies without writing, the last thing you needed was someone finding it and potentially vandalizing it.

the world is still healing, the people are still praying; for a better future, for a better life.

the last thing people need to find out is that zeke yeager of all people is missed. not many know him, many aren't even alive to know him. yet he still lives on in the memories of others. as a comrade, a leader, a lover, a monster, a brute of a man, a father.

you won't tell veil about him, she's already at the age where she can notice that her family isn't full. her father is missing, her grandparents, her aunts and uncles, her cousins.

all of them.

wiped out, just like that.

© zekescherries , 🍒

[sokuly419]

I don’t typically make posts like this myself, but maybe some others would like to hear it. This is something of a stream of thought so sorry if it seems choppy and whatever.

I’m not going to sugar coat it. This election was absolutely awful. I know we’re all fucking terrified. We’re all grieving. Famous show hosts to politicians on both sides of the aisle are in tears with us.

I bawled before they called it. I cried once Trump broke 100 electoral votes well before Harris. I knew it was over by time I went to bed. My best friend tried to talk me out of it, telling me it wasn’t over until it was. I absolutely bawled when I saw 210. My wife held me while I just sobbed in a way I haven’t in a very long time.

I am terrified. And heartbroken. And pissed.

Now… we have to live. Trust me, I’m having those thoughts too. Many of us are. But the biggest middle finger you can give to them is to stay alive. They want us dead. We know that. Don’t make it easy for them. Don’t make any of this easy for them.

Take your time to cry, scream, lose control for a moment. But don’t kill yourself. You will have a place in fighting back that no one else can take. You don’t have to be on the frontlines. Just simply staying alive is fighting back and if that’s all you can give, we’ll take it.

Listen to your favorite song one more time. And maybe again after that. And again. Rewatch your favorite show or movie. Do it a few times so you don’t forget your favorite scenes or lines. Read your favorite book or fanfic. Escape for a bit. Make your favorite comfort food.

Are you looking forward to a new show? A new season of a show you like? A new movie maybe? Is one of your favorite musicians releasing new music soon? Do you have pets? They won’t understand and they’ll miss you.

I don’t care what you have to do to keep seeing the next day, just do it. I know it’s hard. I really, really do. I’ve been there. I’ve tried more than once. I still have those thoughts. And those thoughts got bad again with the outcome of the election. We’ve already lost so many people because of it, there’s no denying it.

I hope this can reach at least one person who needs it. If this can save even one person from taking their life, I’ll take it.

Right now, I’m looking forward to season 2 of Arcane. I rewatched season 1. A She-Ra rewatch is in my sights too. I’ve been listening to new (to me) music. If you have Spotify, the daylist is a good way to get new music through the day. I have pets and they wouldn’t understand. I can’t do that to them. And it would devastate my wife. And my family. I have yet to reread a couple of my favorite fics.

Take it from someone who lost a best friend to suicide. The grief… it’s not something that can be explained. You will be missed. Your best friend will scream and cry and cuss out every deity there is. They will feel like they failed you in every way. I don’t wish that kind of grief on anyone. If I didn’t have the list of things I’m pushing through for, the experience I went through definitely would make me think long and hard about it.

Now is the time we organize and fight back. And we can’t do it without you. You’re fighting back by living, so live. And keep living. Stay as safe as you possibly can. I love you, stranger reading this. I see you. Let’s hold hands or hug or whatever and just breathe together for a minute. We’re alive. And we have to stay that way for as long as possible.

Don’t forget: the first Pride was a riot.

We got this. We’re going to do it terrified. But we’re gonna do it. We have to. We owe it to those before us.

[treason-and-plot]

“What do you mean, Connor passed out drunk? Where are his parents?” says Anita.

“I forget. Gone on a trip overseas somewhere? It’s alright, Mum, it’s not like he’s an alcoholic or anything, he was just upset because his bird died. Like, really upset. Like, crying. We had to have a burial for it and everything. It was pretty intense. But can you imagine getting so upset over a bird, for God’s sake? I mean, come on. It’s pathetic.”

“You can’t judge someone for grieving the loss of a beloved pet, Saffron,” says Anita. “It doesn’t matter if the pet was a dog or cat or a hamster or a canary. It can hit people really hard. That poor boy. I feel for him, especially with his parents not being there. Does he have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope,” says Saffron.

“So he’s all alone?”

“I think he said the maid comes tomorrow. Anyway Mum, he’s eighteen. He’s an adult. He’s not a baby, for God’s sake-“

“I'm sorry, but Joël can't come and pick you up. You can’t leave Connor there alone,” says Anita.

“What are you talking about?” says Saffron. “Of course I can.”

“I can't allow you,” says Anita. “You need to stay there overnight with him.”

“What the hell, Mum-“

“Listen to me, Saffron. He’s had a lot of to drink and there’s always a possibility he could vomit and die from pulmonary aspiration. He cannot be left alone. Do you understand?”

“Oh my God, Connor’s not going to die, Mum. That’s crazy.”

“No it isn’t. Did I tell you about the time we found a girl not much older than you dead in the back of a car? She and a couple of friends had gone out clubbing, and she’d had way too much to drink so her friends had put her in the back of their car to sleep it off and left her there while they continued partying. She vomited while she was passed out, inhaled the vomit into her lungs and choked to death. Do you really want to risk the same thing happening to Connor?”  

“So you’re literally telling me that I have to sleep next to him. In the same bed,” says Saffron.

“I think you have a moral obligation as his friend to look after him,” says Anita. “That is what I’m telling you.”