#but the sculpt on leaf looks really good

[switch]

hm. hmmm. perhaps i judged unicorn academy too hastily.

[ckret2]

(I said earlier I had a fic excerpt about DEATH LAWYER AXOLOTL, here it is.)

The god hopefully turned to the time giant—

She shook her head, expression flat. "Nope. I'm a civil engineer, not a hostage negotiator."

—and then turned to the Axolotl. "You. You know how to talk to mortals like this triangle that's taken over Dimension Zero, don't you? Isn't he like the omnicidal monsters you represent every day?"

The Axolotl looked nervously at the wormhole into Dimension Zero. He could see blue fire and hear wails of pain on the other side. "Ah," he said.

####

Biologically there was really no such thing as a god, in the same way that botanically there is really no such thing as a vegetable. Tomatoes are fruits; spinach is a leaf; carrots are roots; broccoli is an unfinished flower. The word "vegetable" just indicates the cultural role a plant performs in the kitchen.

The word "god" indicated the cultural role an entity performed in cosmology: a god was anything that exerted enough power that mortals felt driven to worship it.

Different beings so honored with the title "god" handled it in different ways. For the Axolotl's part, he thought it was a useful designation to help with networking, but mostly it was a pain that meant he was put up on a pedestal for doing his job.

The Axolotl was a god of justice. Not the god of justice, but one. He held dominion over an abstract concept; over millions and billions of years, his words and decisions slowly, inexorably altered the idea of "justice" on a multiversal scale. Mercy, retribution, punishment, rehabilitation, equity, equality, fairness, and righteousness were like multicolored clays he could twist, squish, sculpt, and blend at his leisure, permanently altering what those ideas meant to the mortals they affected.

Which was to say: he was a lawyer.

He was also known as a god of rebirth. Which was to say: he specialized in afterlife law. Before going into law he'd only been a psychopomp, but after having to escort too many despairing souls to afterlives he felt were too severe for their sins, he'd decided he wanted a say in where he took his souls. Now he helped clients get their charges reduced so they were eligible for a higher-tier reincarnation, or got their purgatorial sentences reduced, or—on rare occasions—even helped them avoid damnation. (Although he didn't take many damnation cases. He didn't always win—and those ones were too depressing to lose.)

And lately, he'd been developing a reputation.

For the past few centuries, he'd been working on a damnation case. He was defending a supervillain who'd built a weapon that could slice open the fabric of spacetime—a crime against reality—and bisect planets in its wake. He'd died inside the jurisdiction of an afterlife that had legalized eternal damnation. Case law had long since established that the dead had to be sent either to the afterlife system of their native jurisdiction or an alternate afterlife system of their choice in order to be judged, provided that the proper afterlife accepted their transfer request.

But if this villain had been extradited to his home world, the heaviest sentence he could have faced was a thousand years purgatory, with an option for early reincarnation for good behavior after a hundred years. So the jurisdiction he'd died in had summoned up some bureaucratic red tape to dismiss his native afterlife's extradition request, and he'd been sentenced where he'd died. They'd wanted to establish via case law that the dead who had committed crimes against reality could be damned in whichever jurisdiction they happened to die in, and hoped they could get away with it just for lack of anyone protesting the move. After all, everyone involved much preferred that a mortal wicked enough to obliterate multiple populated planets and trillions of lives receive eternal punishment.

Everyone involved except the Axolotl. 

Taking this case hadn't made him many friends. He didn't care; he had his principles. Let an interplanetary supervillain be dragged away to a foreign afterlife just so that he can be forced into damnation, and next it'll be a planetary dictator; let a dictator be dragged away, and next it'll be a murderer; and next it'll be a burglar; and next it'll be a jaywalker that a psychopomp has a personal grudge against. If the Axolotl could establish that even the most undeserving mortal imaginable, a criminal against reality, still deserved the right to be sentenced in the afterlife of his choice, then he could establish that everyone less evil deserved the same right.

If he had anything to say about it, in two or three trillion years he'd see eternal punishment outlawed completely; but untilthen, he was not going to sit idly by and let this flagrant abuse of interdimensional law become the new meaning of justice! He would get that supervillain out of eternal damnation, personally escort him to his native afterlife, and see him reincarnated on his own home world—and mark his words, he would rain so much bureaucratic hell on the judges and psychopomps that had let this abuse of justice take place that no god would dare keep a soul from its rightful afterlife ever again, or he wasn't the Axolotl!

All of which was to say:

Yes, unfortunately. This triangle was like the omnicidal monsters he represented every day.

And so he was appointed hostage negotiator.

####

(And that's why a trillion years later he's the guy helping Bill submit an insanity plea so that he can go to Theraprism rather than get the permadeath penalty.)

[calliecwrites]

Shifter HRT, part 4 – First Changes (2 Months)

It’s happening! Slowly – but surely. I noticed the first small changes over the last few weeks. And, despite obsessively checking myself for changes every day, I found the first thing completely by accident.

I don’t bleed anymore. I nicked my finger while cooking, and nothing happened. Eventually there was a little blob of red goo there, but it wasn’t watery like blood, and after a while it seeped back into the wound. That’s what my blood is like now. It kinda makes sense that it would be the first thing to change, since it’s already liquid, and it’s what’s carrying the shifterising hormone around my body. I can’t feel it, I can’t control it, but knowing that I’ve got goo in my veins (what a thing to say) is weirdly validating. All those pills I’ve been taking are actually doing something! And I’d swear the cut healed faster than usual – though that might just be me seeing things where there aren’t any.

Speaking of seeing, my eyesight is changing. Or, maybe not the sight itself, but what my brain is doing with it. I’m noticing details more. It’s like how, sometimes, after meditation, I feel like I’m seeing things more as they are, rather than seeing what I expect to see. I imagine it’s what it’s like for an artist studying something they want to draw. Except now it’s happening spontaneously, and more intensely. For a moment, I can look at a tree and take in the whole thing at once, every leaf and branch, and remember it. It’s intermittent – more often than not I’m still seeing things the old human way – but it’s happening enough to notice.

Everyone always says shifters have a really good eye for detail. In all the human stories where shifters are monsters, that’s how they’re able to imitate and replace people so easily (assuming they don’t just absorb them, which also often ends up happening in those stories). I think this must be the start of it.

Some patches of skin feel different, too. There’s one on my leg, one on my stomach, and another on my back. They look the same, but the texture is slightly different, and I can tell where they are even without touching them. If I really focus, I can make them feel just a bit softer and squishier than normal flesh. Not quite like goo, not yet, but definitely different. I’m thinking these will be the first parts to turn fluid, eventually.

And one more thing: I bought one of those shifter art things. Maybe you’ve seen them? – a little bowl full of goo, with a button on the side that you twiddle to change the goo into different shapes. Or, maybe ‘putty’ is a better word – it’s a bit like wet clay that doesn’t dry. It’s a sculpting toy, basically – that shifters invented. I’ve wanted one for years, but never dared, because someone might see it and… guess what was going on in my head? Who am I kidding? – no one is going to see that and think maybe you want to be a shifter! If they even noticed it, they’d take one look, think that’s a funny little thing, and move on. Paranoia is… well. I don’t think paranoia is too strong a word for it. Everything I did had to be checked against would this make people suspect?, and that overrode everything else. Any sign had to be hidden at all costs. I still didn’t dare buy it in a shop – I ordered it online – but now it’s here, sitting on my shelf, and so far no one has called me a monster. I don’t think anyone’s even noticed.

Right now it’s in the very rough shape of a dragon. Well, OK, so it’s basically a blob with two little blobs that kinda maybe could be wings… and looks more like a mushroom… what you can do with the button is very limited! But the real appeal of these is that once I can turn fluid, I’ll be able to flow into it, mix with the putty, and sculpt it from the inside using my own shapeshifting ability. It’s no wonder shifters love these things. Some of the pictures I’ve seen online are amazing – almost as amazing as what they can do with their own bodies. What I’ll be able to do, eventually.

And so that’s it! Two months, and things changing already! I’m still taking my human hormones – I’ll have to keep doing that for a while – and I still haven’t told anyone (ugh, don’t want to think about that), but for only having been on this for such a short time, things couldn’t be better!

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Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):

@aiden-nevada @avery-victoria-winterlight @dierotenixe @leahnardo-da-veggie @mint-and-authoress

@sandyca5tle @scrubbinn @therian-lesbian @the-gender-fae @wuwojiti

[in1-nutshell]

Hi I lied when I said the last time I asked for juno was the last time

Cygate whirl and first aid seprately react to juno having a panic attack or breakdown without rodimus or perceptor nearby

your nutshell summary are really cute

Bringing back Juno! Let's do this!

Hope you enjoy!

Juno having a panic attack/ breakdown with Cygate, Whirl, and First Aid

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

MTMTE

Cygate

The pair had been walking back to their shared room when the incident happened.

The evening had turned out to be a bit eventful.

Especially when a little argument sparked between the pair.

They don’t remember what the cause of it was, but it left both in a sour mood when they heard something.

It sounded like… crying?

Tailgate went forward with Cyclonus trailing behind with a servo on his sword.

The pair was surprised to see Juno on the floor curled up with both their servos clenched on their helm.

They were shaking like a leaf, bio lights blinking rapidly, and optics shut tight.

“Juno!”--Tailgate

Tailgate rushes to their side.

Cyclonus walks over but keeps his distance.

Juno shrinks a bit at the sudden contact.

Tailgate retracts his servos but gently takes one of their servos, softly running his digits over theirs.

He looks over at Cyclonus for help.

Cyclonus goes to their other side and grabs their other servo.

He pries their servo open.

The pair exchanged quiet words until Juno stopped shaking.

Cyclonus helps Juno up and supports most of their weight.

Tailgate tries to help with the weight the best he can.

The minibot ends up holding their servo the rest of the trip to the couples habsuite nearby.

Cyclonus helped Juno onto the berth as Tailgate closed the door for more privacy.

Juno looks down avoiding the gaze of the pair.

“I’m sorry—”--Juno

Tailgate grabs their servo again.

Juno shakes a bit trying to keep the tears at bay.

Cyclonus walks over and places a servo on their shoulder.

“Can you tell us what happened?”--Tailgate

Juno slowly nods.

“…I’ve been a bit overwhelmed with work… I don’t want what happened before to happen again… maybe if I had worked harder last time then maybe they wouldn’t have--”--Juno

“Stop.”--Cyclonus

Juno looks at Cyclonus who had tightened his grip on their shoulder a bit.

“No one could have spotted them. Even in review, all cameras had been disabled and the ones that were partially operational were not enough to bypass their cloaking devices. You did your job as well as you could.”--Cyclonus

Juno looks down at Tailgate.

“You were the one who sounded the alarm. You saved several bots who were in that area Juno.”--Tailgate

Juno shakes a bit and starts sniffling more.

Tailgate hugs their midsection.

The flood gate opens.

Juno falls on Cyclonus and Tailgate and weeps a bit.

The pair give each other a knowing look before going back to comforting their friend.

They do implore Juno to talk about their troubles with them, or Perceptor, or Rodimus or Rung if it was bad.

Tailgate later comms in Rodimus to come by and get Juno once they are ready and want to see him.

Whirl

Whirl had been walking with Juno when it happened.

Whirl had managed to rope Juno into going out for a drink after a while of pestering.

He secretly wanted to know what a tipsy or drunk Juno was like, and he wanted evidence.

That’s when something jumped from the corner in front of them.

It looked like Tarn.

Whirl immediately began firing at ‘Tarn’.

Turned out it was a well sculpted dummy that looked like Tarn.

“Ha! Just a dummy! A real good looking dummy but that’s not—”--Whirl

Whirl notices Juno on the ground wide optic and shaking.

Their optics glued on the fake Tarn.

Whirl moves to them slowly.

“Hey Jumpy, its not real you know.”--Whirl

Juno’s shaking faltered slightly, that was a good sign.

He kneels down to help them up.

“Now, up we go and—”--Whirl

As soon as his claw touched their back, they launched their arms around him pulling him close and burring their faceplate into his neck cables.

“Hey, Juno! Can you just…”--Whirl

He stops when he feels wetness dribbling down his cables.

“…Sod it…”--Whirl

He could hear the mumbles of Tarn and other members of the DJD.

Carefully hoisting them into his arms and walked back into his habsuite.

Privacy was needed for this kind of thing.

And he had a reputation to uphold!

They make it to the room; he trips over something and topples on to the berth with them.

Juno hadn’t let go the entire time.

Whirl started talking randomly to fill the void.

He started talking about the clocks he had been working on.

The talking seemed to work in calming the bot down.

An hour later Whirl was showing Juno the inner working of his latest clock.

He watches from afar that they get back to Perceptor or Rodimus before going back to his own business.

The next day, Whirl found several new clock parts at his door with a thank you note attached to it.

First Aid

First Aid didn’t know what made him walk out of the med bay but he is glad he did.

He figured he just needed a break from everything in the bay and needed to clear his processor.

He isn’t expecting to see Juno in a dark corner shaking.

“Juno!”—First Aid

First Aid comes over to the shaking bot and kneels down examining their frame for any injuries.

There are none.

He notices their rapid venting, tears, and them grabbing certain places in their frame.

Places that he remembered fixing when they came back from…

Juno was mumbling something but kept their optics shut.

“Juno, Juno its First Aid…You’re on the Lost Light, you’re on the floor, your safe… is okay to touch you?”—First Aid

Juno slowly nods as the shaking subsides.

The medic slowly lifts the shaking bot and helps them walk back to a private part of the med bay.

The pair goes to their habsuite and that’s where Juno explained to him what happened.

It turned out someone had blasted the Empyrean suite in their office as some cruel joke.

Which reminded them that they needed to explain to Magnus why the door had been kicked down and indented into the wall.

They thought they were back on the ship, the pod, the giant servos…

First Aid comms in Ratchet that he wasn’t going to be returning for his shift, something else came up and needed his attention.

First aid stayed with Juno until they were better.

The medic later comms in Perceptor giving him an update on Juno and lets him know that Juno is in the med bay.

[ucetheones]

A Peek Through Time | FTM! Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Dominik Mysterio

Gif credit: @samijey 🖤

Jon remembers the day Josh tearfully came out to him and Joe, demanding with tears in his eyes that they no longer call him "Jayla". He remembers his twin shaking like a leaf when he told them she/her pronouns felt wrong and dirty. 

At fourteen, Josh lacked the proper terminology to express what they now know as Dysphoria.

Jon accepted his brother's words with ease, some part of him had always known his sister was never really his sister. All their lives Josh had always been one of the guys.

She (he, Jon's brain corrected) played all manner of sports, and would do anything to avoid being forced into a frilly dress. All in all, it made sense to Jon that his twin sister was actually his twin brother. 

Joe had taken the confession with less grace than Jon, but he hadn't been rude or nasty to Josh, so that was a slight win. 

Coming out to the rest of their family was difficult enough, their mom tried to hide her discomfort, and the saddened expression that threatened to overtake her features, but she remained pleasant as always.

Their father was outright against it, wasting no time in berating Josh for foolish thoughts and sinful behaviors. 

"You're a girl, Jayla. My daughter will not parade around town and embarrass her family." 

There was a threat of kicking him out after that comment, one Jon remembers playing over in his head whenever he sees their father even after years have gone by and Josh no longer lived under their dad's roof.

The second he and Josh turned eighteen, his twin brother was dead set on moving out, and he had, only a few weeks into adulthood. 

It was an odd adjustment, but going to see Josh at his apartment with Joe had become a daily occurrence, until college got in the way, and they rarely had the chance to see their youngest counterpart through anything other than a video chat with Josh's camera cut off, or blurry selfies sent on-the-go.

Jon supposes it's his own fault he never sees his brother, after all he and Joe chose a different school.

Seeing Josh in person for the first time in months, almost a year if he was honest, was startling in the best way. He'd cut his hair into a mullet, styled so his curls were the main focus. He'd bulked up considerably, the cropped tee-shirt that adorned his body had the sleeves cut off; giving a clear view of all this twin's hard work. 

There was a lot of ink covering his arms, something Jon was slightly envious of. 

But the biggest, most noticeable difference was the facial hair, because Josh had always spoken in a deeper voice, as children he had the raspiest voice in their family, and that hadn't changed as adults. 

Which is probably why Jon never caught on to just how much his voice dropped. 

It wasn't half as shocking as the hair covering his brother's face, though. 

Josh should've been unrecognizable, but it was honestly like looking in a mirror for the first time in their lives. They'd always been twins, but there was never any concrete proof as far as looks were concerned. They'd always looked alike, but now? Now they were nearly identical, the only major difference being their smiles and hair styles.

Joe is the first to embrace his cousin, patting him on the back with a wide grin on his lips. 

"You look good, man!"

He was visibly proud, like he was the one who sculpted Josh into what the world saw now. Like it wasn't all of Josh's handwork on display. 

Jon can tell Josh is proud of how he looks now, long gone are the hunched shoulders, arms crossed over his chest and the frown everyone thought might've become permanent. 

"You must be livin' in the gym, Uce. The hell kinda' regimen you got?"

Jon almost surprises himself when he speaks, but Josh once again beats him to the punch. 

His twin's laugh is light and airy, yet just as deep as his voice, 

"As much as I'd like to brag, all this?" He gestures to himself, "Is Rhea and Dominik's work. Wakin' my ass up at four am, talkin' bout some "It'll be fun, come on, babe. We'll get wafflehouse after!" News flash, it's not fun, and it never will be."

He sounds annoyed, but fond as he complains, but all Jon can focus on are the names he doesn't know. Are they Josh's friends? Is he dating one of them? He doesn't even know if Josh is straight or not.

Joe's laughter cuts through Jon's thoughts, and he's quickly trying to find his place in the conversation. 

Apparently, Joe had bitten the bullet and asked Josh who Rhea and Dominik were. 

Josh's eyes almost lit up at the question, and he wasted not a breath before he was telling his brother and cousin about his girlfriend and his boyfriend. 

It was weird, in truth, but his twin was happy so what was the harm? 

Josh, Rhea and Dominik were tight-knit, rarely did you see one of them without the others. Whatever was happening between this was authentic and unyielding. 

Until their relationship was imploding, for reasons Jon still doesn't know even though the four year relationship ended under his roof.

Over the course of a few weeks, Josh changed into a more closed off version of himself, though he still worked out religiously, and wrestled in small circuits with his brother and cousin, he no longer had the same motivation. Jon thought it was understandable, one break up was rough. But two? He couldn't begin to understand how drained his brother must've been feeling on a daily basis. Especially since they all worked together at varying points in their training.

One day, things seemed to be going well enough, again. Josh was branching out and finding new friends, and having new experiences. 

He, Rhea and Dominik had somehow patched things up, and were on the verge of mending their once broken relationship.

And the next…the next day, Josh wasn't breathing, or moving and Jon was sobbing. Hysterically. 

Rhea was staring blankly ahead, her eyes squinting into the darkness, like Josh's bleeding body wasn't currently at their feet, but she was crying.

Dominik was on his knees, trying to put pressure on the stab wound, his hands shaking.

With some coaxing from Dominik, Rhea finally finds her footing and gently shoves him aside to take his place in tending to their boyfriend. Her first-aid skills far exceeded any of theirs.

Joe was on the phone with 911, attempting to explain that his cousin wasn't breathing, was bleeding profusely, and they weren't sure if he had a pulse because everyone was too keyed up, even Rhea who realistically should've been able to with practiced ease. It was impossible to check when your hands shook viciously. 

After that, nothing was the same. Nothing could ever be the same. Because Josh almost died, and they still aren't sure why the person who attacked him did what they did.

The doctors aren't sure how Josh made such a quick recovery, but he had. 

During his brief recovery, Josh had met with surgeons to arrange everything for top surgery, the final step for him at the moment, as far as his transition went. He hadn't wanted bottom surgery, and had been on testosterone for a few years already, so top surgery was his end all be all. At least for now. 

It had taken a couple more years for Josh, Jon, Joe, Rhea and Dominik to debut in WWE, but when they finally did? It was their biggest dream finally coming to fruition.

Josh debuted as the first male trans wrestler on the main roster, which easily made him the guy to root for. The pop he got any time his music hit was unreal, and sometimes Jon wondered how his twin managed the almost immediate popularity, because with it came a butt load of hate. But, Josh was happier than ever before, so Jon didn't question it too much.

Somehow, Rhea and Dominik ended up being paired together, alongside Finn Balor and Damian Priest, whilst Josh, who now went by Jey, for work purposes, was off in a faction with his twin brother, and cousin. Their baby brother would soon be joining them on the main roster, and it was all truly coming together. 

Or it did for a few years, before the company scripted The Bloodline's implosion, and carted a newly liberated Jey Uso to Monday Night Raw, sans Jimmy, Roman or Solo. 

For the first time, Jey should've been alone, fending for himself, but being favored by the higher-ups was nothing if not a blessing, because one mention of possibly being paired up with The Judgement Day to Triple H, and Jey was being thrust into a storyline with his girlfriend and boyfriend. 

Along the way, Jimmy too gets swept up in Judgement Day antics, though where Jey actually joins, Jimmy only occasionally tags along, offering support in silent ways. Like helping them win matches when the faction crosses over to Smackdown for the week, or handling a problem for them should one arise and none of the actual members can be present. 

When the storyline of Jey and Rhea getting together begins, the fans are immediately under the assumption he and Dominik would end up at odds, they're split on who to root for. 

Things on screen are tense between The Mysterio and The Uso for a couple weeks, before things come to a head and Rhea, being Rhea, puts them both in their places. She doesn't choose one of them, and says as much, leaving the WWE Universe in instant shambles, but then she's choosing both of them.

There's confusion from everyone, even some feigned confusion from both Dominik and Jey, before Dominik is smirking and blowing a kiss to the man, causing him to burst into laughter. 

Again, the fans are lost, unknowing of what goes on beyond kayfabe, or that they'd ultimately broken it for a second, but it all seems to be the best choice, because the faction proceeds to blow up in ways no one thought possible. 

Jon is proud of his brother, he truly is. He got to watch as his twin quite literally grew into the best man around, whilst simultaneously shaking things up in the field of wrestling at its very core. From being the first trans male wrestler on the main roster, to being in the first openly poly relationship in WWE, Josh was absolutely changing the foundation of all Jon and his family had known for decades. And while some were definitely against it, Jon, Joe and the people who mattered, were all for it. 

Josh was happier than words could say, so who could find fault in that?

[pellaeas]

results reveal: yes, i think i'm happy with this. we'll kind of have to see where exactly the mass settles down but i'm optimistic. there are some details that aren't ideal that are a result of my first surgeon's choices and I still have to do a little Processing on the fact that I can't sculpt my ideal form from virgin clay. but my grafts are taking well and the volume looks really good with the shape of my tummy. i think i am beach shirtless certified.

i think this Processing is similar to like when you get a tattoo after having an idea, and it has to get processed through another person's brain and another person's hands before it joins your body, and it necessarily changes each time from the platonic ideal in your own head, and you gotta reconcile that

with my tattoo i Freaked out a bit afterwards because oh no the leafs on the huckleberry are Slightly more oblong than the halotype!!! so i went on a hike and found examples of the bush with more oblong leaves like my tattoo. and now im totaly chilled out about it. that's the kind of processing i mean and that's how to do it i think. connect the results to something real instead of something only in my brain

but i feel kinda gross rn i have a TINEY fever (99) and a really irritating postnasal drip. (and a headache but i was Naughty about hydration today so that's explained imo) but i think that these extremely mild "flulike" symptoms are normal on account of i just got mega knifed.

i think my surgeon is worried because my emotional strategy right now is Complete Reservation Of Judgement and an extremely flat affect rather than glee, lol. i Will Not Form Opinions (Other than about infection etc) until i am Sure The Swelling Is Gone. I will not look I will not touch more than the bare minimum. This is what I did last time and even though I did kind of mentally crash after it became permanently obvious i got Perky, it really saved me in that first fragile time when i have to focus on just taking care of myself, and it saved me from *prematurely* freaking out on the off chance that my initial misgivings *were gonna* resolve with swelling.

I absolutely think it was a smart move to get a tattoo before a surgery. Because of the processing thing.

[kurtmustdie]

lmao i fucking forgot to share this

not only do i have unorganized miguel heacanons but i have unorganized HOBIE ones too

i have unorganized random headcanons for all the characters i brainrot over these two are no different!!

identity headcanons first hehe:

hes trans. he probably diyed his hrt and also has top surgery somehow hes magic. (i also think he'd have tattoos over his scars, either super cool bat/devil wings or an intricate spider design on their whole abdomen cant decide ill draw it later 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉)

he, however, doesnt really have any specific sexuality or gender labels they feel like they fit into. theyre attacted to all genders of varying degrees but doesnt really put a label on it. he just exists.

also doesnt mind what pronouns you use for her. any/all. basically.

also also would encourage people to use the weirdest and coolest neopronouns they can think of for zem like REALLY go out there WHATEVER YOU CAN THINK OF.

ADHD haver?? MAYBE???

to the rest acaksdlfj;akdjf:

theyre very crafty and dabble in basically every form of art. music, graffiti, painting, sculpting (mainly with trash or scraps or random discarded items he finds, more on that later on), sewing, whatever. if he can learn to do it she will.

he is super touchy and likes being close to people, but also understand boundaries.

very emotionally intelligent, i feel like this is canon anyway but ill just put it out there, ze can basically sense if someone is upset.

LOVES ABSOLUTELY LIVES FOR talking to new people, will go out of their way to introduce himself to basically everyone, especially new spider-people she meets.

he is a bit of a joker, ofc, but he wont try and push boundaries that he clearly sees or hears from the person theyre talking to. hi people who hc him as being an unself aware dickhead shut up you are very wrong did you even watch the movie.

this one is probably my favorite but he will pick up random things he sees around him and keep them for art projects. cool rock on the sidewalk? its a rock, hes gonna take it. funny lookin bug? might pick it up for a little to look at it and put it back in a safer spot. bottle cap? "mine now". like i said before he likes using litter to make art.

he will stop mid-mission if he sees something cool that he can take home like "oh [riff] cool leaf" and put it in his pocket.

i was referencing this post btw i love this headcanon, absolutely genius, i will steal it ty /lhj

this stealing of random objects from all around the multiverse has caused many lectures for miguel (they arent listening)

they have some kind of control over what texture/color they turn into if xey really think about it but most of the time he just kind of.. lets it do its thing. (sort of like a RainWing?)

shockingly good at vague yet oddly specific threats that are unrealistic but if you really think about it it's like "oh yeah he could totally do that..." but she wouldn't. yknow what im saying right???

while he does live in the 70s where technology was uh... not as popular nor as advanced as they are now, he's aware of modern tech through Gwen, Miles, Pav, DEFINITELY through Margo and Miguel, but she doesn't really use it often. doesnt really see the point.

along with that he also is aware of modern music as well, he has mixed feelings (gwen is probably the biggest influence though she is such a Pinkshift/Paramore/My Chem girlie it hurts to think about)

100% collects record of artists, especially smaller artists, that they like.

if you get them going about music he will talk for HOURS. HOURS until you tell him to shut up, even though fae totally wont listen and will keep going anyway. (just like me teehee projecting is fun <3 )

while hobie does use his guitar as a weapon for some reason he is quite protective of it. they wont try and stop you from touching it or playing it, but he will watch you like a hawk. half out of "oo look another person is interested in guitar" and the other half of "👁️👁️ dont break it i can only do that /j" (a lot of musicians are like that, i would know, im one of them. ha)

loves stray animals. cats, dogs, birds, anything. he will stop to pet them if they let him.

he also will talk to cats like any other person. especially spider cat. spider cat could make a cat noise and he'd act like he understood it. "yeah totally man, i get it. meow."

he can sing like... averagely? he has a good sense of pitch and timing, as most musicians do, but she isnt professionally trained or really does it too often

they will scream though

also really likes messing with makeup and bodypaint. he will spend hours on it if he can.

FUCK I AM SO HAPPY I DIDNT POST THIS IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE I KEEP REMEMBERING THINGS ACK HERES ONE LAST ONE POST THIS AFTER ASH I SWEAR (edit from two weeks later: i forgor): he definitely isnt a morning person. he loves to sleep in. definitely values rest, like a lot. miguel will call him at like 7 am and hobie will flip him off and say 5 more minutes when they really mean 2 more hours.

do i have any more?? hmmm maybe if i remember but this is what i have so far. mostly just silly lil headcanons that arent entirely plot relevant as most of my headcanons are.

[schrodingersdragon]

For all closeted witches: I feel your pain, here’s my attempt to help you guys out

Whenever I first started practicing, I was kinda all over the place, just looking for anything I could do that would get the job done but be discrete enough. There are tons of good videos on ways to make secret altars and little ways here and there to do hidden spells, and those are good sources and good things to do, but here are some specific types of witchcraft you can do that don’t look like magic at all:

1.Art magic

Not only is it really easy to get away with as it is literally just making art with magic/ magical intent fused into it, but there are so many things that this covers. Any form of art is acceptable, so not just drawing, but sculpting as well, and things that fit under this umbrella are even music magic and knot magic. Knot magic is infusing your intent or spell into every knot or stitch and can include crochet, embroidery, macrame, hand sewing, knitting, and rope bracelets. Music magic is using music that you either play on your phone or on an instrument to cast your spell or cleanse your space. If you do use an instrument or even sing, write your spells in song form and say the words in your head. It doesn’t even have to be original- just take the melody of an existing song that you either really like or has something to do with your spell and rewrite the words to suit your needs.

2. Kitchen witchery and/or herbalism (/plant magic)

Literally just get into gardening and grow plants and flowers that you pick and use in spells. Or work with the spirits of what you plant. Or both. And if you wanna go further, get into cooking so you can plant herbs in your garden, and use them in kitchen witchery. And you don’t really even need an herb garden if you wanna just do kitchen magic, just use what you have and buy the dried versions of the herbs you need as you go on.

3. Energy witchcraft

You’ll also hear this called energy work, but it’s a form of witchcraft that’s entirely invisible. It is completely built upon the manipulation and usage of your own energy and the energies around you. I’m not the best at explaining things but look up “Ivy the Occultist” on YouTube and watch everything she has about energy manipulation and her video on how to cast a spell and you’re good to go so long as you regularly practice. If you can hide books and your purchases from your parents, I recommend a book called “Psychic Witch” by Mat Auryn. I haven’t been able to read it myself but I’ve heard good things from the witchy YouTubers I trust and it has a lot to do with mental magic

4. Tech magic

This ones kinda difficult to work with, as a lot of it feels more like things we can use as an add on or guide to our practice rather than actual means to cast spells or whatnot, but there are a few things I’ve been trying out or a little while. First, if you can’t have an obvious tarot app, find this app called #SelfCare. It brands itself as a mental mindfulness app, and a lot of it is, but theres also a tarot feature that allows you one card pull a day along with its reversal and tells you what it means. There’s also this flower that you spend like twenty seconds growing and then this other thing where you take clouds away from the moon, and both these features could work as an oracle of sorts. There’s even a candle where you can set intentions with a bay leaf. Charge the app the way you would a real life tool or charge each feature individually, and you’re good to go. I also use another candle app with different colors, and a wedding bouquet maker if I want to use just flowers in a spell. Got Minecraft or some similar alternative? Make your altar in there. Cast your spells in there. There’s a ton of plants and crystals to work with, and even bones. Hell, give the spiders eye a correspondent. Go feral. An alternative to that is setting up your spell in a collage in whatever way best suits you, and whenever you do the thing where you double click your phone button and swipe up to completely close the tab, make that symbolize you sending that spell to the universe or a god or goddess. Use the shit outta emoji spells and send them off the same way. You can even make a summoning circle your notes app, they just won’t be as powerful as irl ones (but only by a little).

5. Glamour magic

Last one I swear. Glamour magic is most commonly used to alter the way one is perceived by others. It’s used a lot by people who need to come off really well to others in their day to day lives, but some parts can be used as cleansing. I’m starting to lose stamina but just look up “The Witch of Wonderlust” and “Chaotic Witch Aunt”’s videos on it and you’ll be good to go.

Misc tips

I lied there’s a little bit more:

Cleanse and charge all your jewelry with whatever intent you desire. If you find you’re very sensitive to other peoples energies, consider making your favorite piece a protection charm.

Get really into crystals. Just say they look really pretty and want them as room decor or even get a bunch of jewelry with them. Even ones that are actually just plastic or glass will work so long as you’re sure to cleanse and charge it with intent

Light candles. There are tons of uses for candles, and I once again recommend researching this on your own

Make sigils and hide them in places you know no one will look or in pen barrels if you write to manifest

BATH/SHOWER MAGIC. I love it so much. And if you live in Louisiana near Lafayette, go to the farmers market by that strip mall that has Twins (the burger place) and the old bowling alley and a few other places and pick up some epsom salt it is homemade and DIVINE. You don’t even need that tho- just imagine all the spiritual gunk from the day washing off you or chant a cleansing mantra

If you can, make moon water or sun water but make sun water SAFELY

If your home is hella catholic, use that. Use the rosaries and those little things you pin on the sun blockers in your car and any religious things you may own to your own magical advantage. Use prayers as spells. Find “Chaotic Witch Aunt”s video on Christianity and witchcraft and it will all make sense but in short: you don’t have to reach out to any of the Christian entities, you can simply use the power those things have to your advantage.

That’s all I’ve got for now, but know that it won’t always be like this. Know that one day you won’t have to hide what you love anymore. You’re not alone, and you will get free one day

[chipmunkweirdo]

Chipmunks and Chipettes art skills headcanons.

Eleanor’s art skills are okay, but not something she’s particularly proud of. She’s more into sewing than drawn art. Though she dabbles. Her favorite things to draw are diagrams and charts with a tiny bit of artistic flare. Also, she makes detailed sports plays.

Brittany’s art skills are confined to mainly fashion designs and when asked to draw literally anything else she flounders bigtime even though she definitely COULD DO IT. My girl needs to BRANCH out. She loves color and much like Alvin is VERY meticulous about color and design. Though, unlike Alvin, she’d rather follow a simple color palette than a wild and messy rainbow one.

My Simon prefers more structured 3D art projects, mock-ups, and blueprints. He also likes things like making leaf collages with Theo. Simon struggles a lot with art, having to fight his perfectionist tendencies and accept his skill levels for drawing things that aren’t mechanical or geometric…is rather low.

Theo does ALL the art stuff! Drawing, sculpting, painting, paper mache, ect! He is always proud of his accomplishments too and his outside the box thinking shows up a LOT in his art. Sure, he knows that the things he draws don’t always look as accurate as he hoped, but that doesn’t stop him. He just keeps making art because it makes him happy!

Jeanette is one of those people who loves what she’s making while she makes it, but then starts to doubt the quality of it afterwards. Her favorite forms of art are painting and pastel pictures. She also is an avid writer which is technically an art. She and Alvin often tell each other how impressive and amazing their projects are, to help them build confidence in their abilities.

As for my version of Alvin…What he thinks of his art is different every day.

When he’s in Classic mode, he just random doodles for fun and without a care and makes some dang professional looking stuff.

In 2.0 mode he is a LOT more meticulous about his color/design/proportions and more focused on building his skills than actually enjoying the process. Which leads him to get frustrated with the process when he can’t produce anything he feels meets his incredibly high standards

When he’s the perfect blend between the two, he can really make comic books like no tomorrow. Being somewhat meticulous in his choices and design elements while also accepting that it isn’t going to look exactly as he planned and that’s okay. He can still have fun and be proud of the end result.

Some days, he just has to say “this is not a good art day” and walk away and come back later when he’s more relaxed.

[ellie-bygrave]

Current Relevant Developments - 3

For part of my FMP I want to try making a plant from scratch. I wanted to find an artist who has experience making foliage and try to emulate their workflow in order to create a nice plant I can use in my project.

Dan Sonley is an environment artist at PUBG and he has some great looking foliage assets in his ArtStation portfolio, including this one.

He has an awesome breakdown video of how he creates assets like these and, whilst they're slightly more stylised than the look I'm going for in my final product, the methods he explains are applicable to a more realistic look too.

To begin with, he gathered reference. I wanted to try and create a Monstera plant, as the leaf shape is very simple. I created a quick PureRef image board with a few examples. These plants often have lots of holes in the leaves, but for my first practice I wanted to just keep it simple.

The modelling was a fairly simple process, involving using a flat plane to create the leaf shape, keeping it low poly. This low-poly version was then unwrapped. A great tip he had was to include a placeholder mesh using a thin plane in the UV unwrap to show where the stem would be unwrapped to. This way I was able to scale the leaves accordingly and wouldn't create issue later when adding in textures for a stem. Dan then showed the methods he uses to create a higher poly version before beginning to sculpt.

The sculpting process was the most difficult for me. I tried to follow what Dan described and some of the same brushes as he used, however this process definitely just required lots of tweaking and adding bits and changing things until it looked about right.

Dan then showed briefly the process of baking the sculpted version to the low-poly plane, though this is a process I was already very familiar with. He did share some useful tips though about baking from a 3D object like the sculpted leaf down to the leaf plane, as there can be some issues with the cage size and backfaces etc when doing this. I found that with his tips i was able to achieve a good bake onto my low-poly leaf.

From there, the texturing was the biggest learning point for me. I have been using substance painter for a little while but I've recently been trying to learn how to improve my texturing a lot. He shows how to build up textures from a flat base by adding more colour variation and details using both procedural generators and by hand. I also learnt about using anchor points for things like opacity masks, so the holes in the leaves could be applied to each fill layer with ease.

I'm pretty happy with my end result of this first test. It definitely is more stylised than I'd like for my plant asset but I think the techniques I've learned will be really useful for more realistic leaves in the future. The rest of Dan's breakdown also discusses using differnt textures on each side of the plane in Unreal Engine, as well as using procedural generation for things such as plant trays. This is something I would also like to try and implement, but at this stage of my pre-production planning I haven't got time to try that out yet. I will revisit the plant later in the project and hopefully achieve something close in quality to what Dan can produce.

References

Sonley, D. (2020). "Blue Hosta Sappling". ArtStation. https://www.artstation.com/artwork/QrXVnl. Accessed 23/04/2024

Stylised Station. (2020). "The ULTIMATE Guide for Creating Grass and Vegetation For Video Games 🌱". YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ek9kK6zmMf8&t=1056s. Accessed 23/04/2024

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 317,

I managed to take a look at a dun crystal chip under a microscope today.  Fascinating to look at, but the main thing I learned is that I am neither enough of a biologist nor enough of a geologist to really tell what I’m looking at, especially with this low a resolution.

In more chronological order, the first thing Cass and I did today once the students left was head out to pay a visit to the crystal collectors.  The rain was enough to bother with cloaks but not enough for the umbrella.  In truth, the cloak was probably overkill, but I have this journal and Iole’s book to take care of.

Daianna was the only one in at the time and she expressed her surprise at seeing us.  Commented that the library shouldn’t be due for a refresh for a while yet and then asked if we were wanting to join on another gathering expedition.  If we were, then we’d have to wait.  Apparently they’ve got things worked out so that most of the refreshes - and by extension expeditions for replacements - across the Village during the dry seasons, with the stockpile there to handle any emergencies of things getting lost or broken or unexpectedly dying early during the rainy seasons.

I shook my head and told her that we were actually here to borrow one that had already stopped glowing.  It was the first time she’d ever gotten that request, and while she didn’t have a problem with it she was curious as to why.  Cass spoke up to explain about the microscope and wanting to see what they looked like up close.  And about my unfortunate attempt at examining a still-glowing one yesterday.  She probably could have done with leaving that last part off.

I added that it was mostly just curiosity on my part and I didn’t expect much practical use to come of it.  Not a lie, but not entirely true either.  But it felt close enough to “digging for why” territory that I found myself instinctively downplaying it.

Daianna shrugged and told us to take our pick from the box, and just please bring it back when we’re done with it.  It’s important to feed them back to the cave to help grow the next batch.  After picking one out it occurred to me that a thin chip or slice would serve us better than a fully intact crystal.  I mentioned this to Daianna and she pulled out a hammer and chisel, smaller and finer than they use for the initial collection.  That’s when I found out that while they usually leave them in their raw state, the other job of the collectors is to sculpt any that are too big or irregular to fit most holders down to size.

A few minutes later we had a handful of likely chips and slivers, thanked Daianna for her time and made our way back to the archive.  We had to restrain ourselves from outright running, such was our excitement.

As for the actual examination of the crystal bits it was, as I mentioned, inconclusive in a manner that straddled the line between disappointing and intriguing.  On the one hand, there does appear to be a relatively regular lattice-like structure of cells to it, but on the other hand it seemed fairly different from the wood and leaf samples we’d examined.  It could just as easily either be the remains of cell walls with their interiors dried and decayed away or simply an inorganic structure with tiny gaps or air pockets.  Still, it’s not as sharply geometric as I’d expect from an actual crystalline rock formation.  Then again, I’m basing that expectation off of fuzzy past life memories of a topic that I suspect the old me wasn’t well versed in to begin with.

If only I had a good way to compare to a “live” crystal sample.

<==Previous          Next==>

[morningstar-warriors]

Game Three

This game was in person! Wahoo!!! Everyone was able to attend which was fabulous, and the game went on for hours. Honestly I was surprised everyone wanted to play for nearly 7 hours. I bought mini toy cats for the game, and plan to paint (and maybe sculpt and add clay) the critters to look like their kitties.

A New Addition

Leaf was finally able to play, their kitty Dustclover. She was crafted fast with no trouble. My other players were able to assist Leaf in quickly making a new cat sheet by hand. I’ll give the game system this, the character sheets are very simple to recreate. There was a confusion with knacks, no surprise considering they’re a little confusing, but otherwise there were no issues.

Dustclover | She/Her | XX Moons

Dustclover is deputy of Fern clan. After asking Blue who she would have as deputy (a player or an npc) she settled on Dustclover. The joke being everyone else in the clan keeps getting high, but Darkstar is sober and Dustclover “can’t do that stuff.” I’m guessing alluding to it making her feel sick or paranoid.

Game Tweaks

One of the things I wish this book had— ENEMIES! Trying to fight in this game is a bit confusing and requires some tweakage. If you stumble across this I suggest you proceed to change and adjust to your liking, but this is what I have so far.

Combat:

Players can use skills or knacks to attack an opponent. For this I have them roll 3d6 (suggested for every roll in the book.) Aside from knacks, which are automatic actions that cost chips.

If they land an attack, I tell them to roll a 1d4 for damage. I’ve decided that bites are 2d4 and certain other buffs give 2d4 damage as well. (these will be brought up later in story.)

This is still very much in the trial stage… I’m not certain if it works as I’ve noticed my players can TEAR an enemy to shreds fast. Especially if I’m trying to make it something tough, like a badger. I planned on implementing AC, which has only just been introduced as a concept to the characters and my players. So I have yet to play with it.

Armor Class Ideas:

I’m thinking general enemies should have a passive AC. A no brainer now, but in the moment I really wasn’t certain how to go about enemy difficulty. In the source book I’m referencing, they have difficulty when it comes to prey hunting— which is nice but, has rarely ever come up in my games. I’ve decided to sorta use it as an outline when it comes to enemies.

(page 13.)

Tangent about the hunting mechanics:

It almost feels too fleshed out. Like the amount of steps would have me state “roll, roll, roll, roll” and you need a balance between dice and rp for pete’s sake. Hunting feels like money in D&D. Either care about it or don’t at all. Hunting feels almost like something that should be an implied rp moment. I say this because when attempting to hunt using these rules, it felt so fucking monotonous. Especially if my player misses or spooks the prey. It should be just a pounce or jump check I’m thinking. This game is quite simple, I think it’s simplicity should be embraced a little, but to each their own.

Using this model I do have a good outline set up for an enemy! If a player chooses to sneak, sniff or listen, attack, ect— this level of detail makes sense and can be accounted for. I’m going to replace the kill check with HP, and replace the grab check with AC.

I think a good AC for cats would be 11. A nice run the mill average number. I’ve kinda consistently made non-armored cats have no AC so I’ll stick to my guns there but I suggest changing that honestly.

tbd:

Thorn Armor — 11 AC (maybe add a check to see if the attacker is stung?)

Clay Armor — 12 AC

Bone Armor — 13 AC

Perhaps it’d be interesting to apply mechanics involving armor damage, since the armor is all relatively breakable. Bone Armor obviously being the toughest to destroy…

[tsunaaism]

𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐭 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 | Shouldn’t compare you to animals.

Summary: A famous modeling agency just recruited you to be their photographer. Seeing the sum they are willing to pay, you immediately signed the job contract, not knowing that you have to deal with six grown men that act like a bunch of kids.

Pairings: Bokuto Koutaro x Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader, Miya Atsumu x Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader, Suna Rintarou x Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader.

Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Drama.

Warnings: two (2) curse words.

Previous | Masterlist | Next 

“Good morning. (Y/n) said hello.” Ushijima’s raspy, bedroom voice fills his greenhouse. The soft sunlight that passes through the clear, transparent walls falls on his exposed chest—sculpted, tanned body covered in a slight golden glow. The green leaves and colorful flowers seemed to perk at his presence, swaying slightly as droplets of water from his watering can fell atop of them.

“Oh, her? I think she would have a nice taste. Judging by her outfits.” He hums to himself. This isn’t the first time he has told his plants about an ‘interesting photographer’ from his workplace, and somehow, he feels like the plants have taken a liking to you, too.

He doesn’t know why he is drawn to you in the first place. You might be beautiful, blessed with a perfect figure and an adorable face, but he knows that isn’t what intrigued him. Curiosity? Maybe. He didn’t care about you a single bit when Atsumu and Kuroo couldn’t stop babbling about you after the manager showed a picture of you just a day before your arrival—and neither was he interested in the not-so-secret-bet the males are doing.

To be frank, he thinks you are pretty—he even thought you were a model when Suna first escorted you, having had forgotten what his photographer is supposed to look like. After that, he had barely spoken to you aside from the small talks and greetings. All only for formality.

But he guesses he could never avoid it forever. It surprises him when he sees Sakusa’s germaphobic tendencies practically disappear when he is in contact with you or the way Atsumu’s usual flirty façade dissipates every time you tell him how dumb his pickup lines sounded, turning him into a nervous mess.

Though he thinks, you’re a bit more bashful around him. More guarded. As if you are scared that you would step over his boundaries. Maybe you’re intimidated by him?

“She is a little shy around me.” His finger grazes water droplets falling from a leaf, enjoying the soothing effect it has on him, “I’m curious about her. She is a bit loud around others, though. Like a hamster? Tiny and scurries around a lot.”

A hamster? No, maybe a Pomeranian? He shakes his head—he shouldn’t compare you to animals. He glances at his watch, stretching his sore muscles a little, before leaving his greenhouse. He would have his time to get to know you, later.

“Thank you for your purchase. We hope to see you again in the future!” The fancily dressed woman bowed, earning a small nod from Ushijima as you left the store.

You feel dread coursing through your body. What just happened? You peek at the tall male and shifted your gaze onto your fingers. That was scary as hell. To think that this is the same man that loves gardening so much…

“Is anything bothering you?” He stops, crossing his arms.

Is he really this dense?

It doesn’t bother you, instead, it hurts you mentally. Too much pain. This man just spent 540 million yen on a damn brooch! Your conscience is taking over your brain—you didn’t even mean it. You told him that the red diamond brooch was beautiful and you haven’t even finished your sentence when he—with his deep ass voice suddenly said, “We will get that one, then.”

The worst part is, he didn’t even flinch—didn’t even think twice when he was told how much it costs. You swore your soul almost flew out of your body when he hands his card like it was nothing. You know he is an uprising supermodel, but is he supposed to have this much money?

“I-I’m fine. What about you?”

Why are you stuttering so much? He raises his brow—are you intimidated by him?

“Are you hungry? Or is it the gift that you are worried about?”

He would probably get offended if you told him it was too expensive, right? A shiver runs down your spine and you can’t help but avert your gaze from his stern ones.

A sigh escapes his lips, “Do I scare you? You always avoid my eyes.”

“No! Of course not!” You panic. Why would he say that? “It’s not that, Ushijima-san. I just think it was a little bit impulsive to spend that much money on a brooch… you didn’t even think twice.”

Confusion flashed in his eyes. Oh. So that’s what it is? So you are not scared of him, but his… money? It honestly doesn’t bother him how much he spent. Money was nothing he has grown worrying about, and his parents sure did a good job of ensuring that.

“I see.”  A glint of amusement reflects on his eyes, “So, it was too expensive?”

“In my opinion, yes.”

A hum leaves his lips. Did it make you feel guilty? If so, then…

“If it is bothering you that I have spent so much, then you should pay me.”

Wait. Did you hear that right?

You flick your eyes to Ushijima’s stoic face. No remorse. Nothing but a stone-cold, straight-faced expression. Not even a sign that he is joking. Is he being serious right now?

“Excuse me, Ushijima-san. But, what the heck?!” You yell, not caring if the tall, muscular olive-haired man that is almost twice your height flinches at the sudden harshness, “Ugh, look. Let’s negotiate.”

“Negotiate?” He asks, his voice now a tad lower than before. He doesn’t know you are the type to curse like that. Is this what makes Atsumu stick to your side like glue?

“I don’t have 540 million yen on me. Besides, It is a gift for your mom, and I’m just here to help. I don’t think it’s my fault that—“

Before you could fully save yourself, your words were cut—stuck in your throat as a rough, calloused hand muffles your words, “I do not want your money.” He says, the edges of his lips upturns, albeit a little, “You remind me of a Chihuahua. I didn’t know you are the type to talk like this.”

Huh? Did he just insult you? A Chihuahua? What?

Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrist, a sign to remove his hand (that almost covers your whole face) from your mouth. You blink your eyes, looking at the tall male questioningly. How are you supposed to react to that? You would have returned the words with triple the malice if it was Atsumu… but Ushijima?

“I am sorry. It must’ve surprised you.” He clears his throat, “I was not asking for your money.”

You purse your lips warily, “Then? What do you want?”

“You. Give me your time—and let me get to know you more.”

On second thought, you do resemble Chihuahuas more than hamsters. At least he can get that straight, now that he has the chance to observe you closer.

“And call me Wakatoshi, from now on.”

Taglist for future chapters is open. Send me an ask or reply to this post!

[i-moved-blogs-ffs]

Danganronpa request can a reader who is really kind and a sweetheart adopt the warriors of hope and helpem to forget they traumas and also can the reader beat the hell up the warriors of hope parents after everything they done to those innocents children's please

Of course, my darling! I love the WoH so much- I adopted them too, they're your adoptive siblings now so you all gotta get along ok-

These are probably gonna spiral into parenting headcanons because I cannot help myself- just let these kiddos have a happy home life man- :(

TW for mentions of abuse. It's nothing explicit, but it can be upsetting to some. Please be cautious.

Anyways, let's get started!

- 🌸🍭mod mikan🍭🌸

S/O adopting the WoH!

Now, we all know these kiddos had a bad time.

They were all abused in different ways, neglected, put down to the lowest point they could be.

Junko was like a light at the end of the tunnel for them, a savior - someone who cared, someone who they could trust, someone who loved them. But it was all lies.

She didn't care.

They couldn't trust her.

She didn't love them.

But then, you came around. At first, they thought you were like every other demon; evil, cold and uncaring.

And yet, there was this warmth radiating off of you... Almost like another light they could chase to get to true joy.

After Komaru and Toko defeated each of them, they felt lost. What were they supposed to do now that their empire has failed? Were the adults going to punish them, by abusing and taking advantage of them even further?

The group wandered the streets of Towa City, alone, hiding from every adult they could see and fending for themselves.

However, they stumbled upon you and Komaru. You two have been actively looking for them after finding out they survived.

But the reason why you were looking for them, was pretty unexpected.

You wanted to take them in as your own. They were just kids after all, no matter how much they tried to make themselves seem bigger. You wanted to help them, teach them that not everyone will hurt them, because they deserve to be loved like any other child does.

And so, they went with you. Very reluctantly mind you, but they didn't have much of a choice.

And as time went on, they opened up to you, one by one. And soon, you guys became like a happy family.

Somewhat dysfunctional, but still happy family.

Ok so, origin story's out of the way, now let's get in a bit deeper-

Parenting the Warriors is pretty hard- they each have something about themselves that you need to keep in mind.

And besides, taking care of 5 children wouldn't be easy even if they weren't traumatized-

You have to be patient, warm and kind to them, and to you that's no problem!

I would imagine Masaru would be the first to let his guard down around you, because he could tell that you weren't a bad person from the start.

He would start to admire you greatly, seeing you as the only cool adult around!!

He's always trying to impress you or get your attention because of that. And you always give him praise, telling him he's the most awesome kiddo ever!!

He always gets a bit bashful when you do, scratching his head as an "awhh, shucks!", escaping his lips.

He's very fond of you! He wants to do the things you do, like trying out your hobbies or imitating your mannerisms. He just wants to be as cool as you are.

While it is cute, you have to teach him that he's only the best when he's himself!

Kotoko was probably the second to open up. The first thing she noticed is that you never, ever used her trigger word in a sentence, not even on accident. You always used words like "soft", "tender" or "mallow", maybe even "delicate".

Not me looking up synonyms on thesaurus.com rn shHDHS

Like Masaru, her initial gut reaction always told her you were a good person, but the walls she had built up just couldn't let you in right away.

And when she does get comfortable, she becomes super clingy. She's almost as fond of you as Masaru is, honestly-

She always goes to you for any sort of help. She feels like you're the only person she can trust 100%, whether it be with her feelings or some other problem.

You're like- the only person who she's super nice to all the time. She used to be like that with Monaca, until you took them in.

Actually, speaking of that, they completely stopped literally worshipping Monaca's every move once you entered their lives.

Now, next up is Jataro. He initially thought you hated his every move, and that you only took him in because of pity.

But, you were proving him wrong every day. Going out of your way to talk to him, being so incredibly kind that it made his heart hurt.

You always help him out with his art! He loves when you sit down and paint, sculpt or draw with him, even if you're not artistic yourself. He feels like he's wanted, and all of that self-hatred almost completely washes away.

The biggest moment was when you finally convinced him to take off his mask. And when he did, you could tell he was way happier.

You two burned the mask together, leaving that part of his life behind you and turning over a new leaf.

And because of your influence, the rest of the kids are way nicer to him as well now!

Nagisa was the fourth one to take his guard down.

He saw how much Masaru, Kotoko and Jataro trusted you, and after observing you further, he began to see why.

He was always very distant from you, and you respected that. So, you were pleasantly surprised when he suddenly started going out of his way to help you, talk to you or spend time with you. However, you never questioned it, which made him relieved.

It's like you two silently agreed that you were cool with eachother.

He's very mature for his age, so he's the first one to try and help you with regular day-to-day tasks, even without you asking for said help.

Mans over here about to start doing your taxes HDHDH-

You always tell him to chill out, but he insists. He knows how much trouble he and his adoptive siblings are making for you, and it's his own way of thanking you.

Now, Monaca's a little interesting.

At first she was only pretending to care about you, like she did with the rest of the Warriors, but after a while she genuinely grew to love both you and her siblings.

She doesn't like the fact she cares one bit, but she can't help it.

She still has very manipulative tendencies, but you always see through them and her lies. You call her out on it, but never berate her.

She's very kiss ass-y, I guess?? Always complimenting you for the smallest reasons and calling you sweet nicknames.

She sometimes just wants to make you mess up to try and get herself to stop caring-

Like whenever a problem comes up, she always goes, "S/O can fix it!😌🙏 Our (affectionate parental term) dearest can do anything!🥰💞" and the rest of the kids are like "yah!!💖💕" because they love and support you while you're just there like🧍

Because no you can't rebuild the economy do you look like bob the fucking builder-

AnywaY their parents are already dead, so you guys beat up H*ji instead. :)

Ah, family bonding time. 💕

And done!! I love these little spawns of satan so much you guys don't even know- this was literally so fun to write that I think I got carried away a bit hshGhd- I hope this is ok!

Make sure to wash your hands, stay hydrated, take any meds you may need to and stay safe! You were so brave, have a lollipop! 🍭

[deputyash]

I was tagged by @glowwormsmith many months ago to do this “What flavor is your soul?” Quiz as my OCs! I also decided to do one for myself too cause I liked the quiz so much haha. Thanks for the tag I really loved this one! :)

I’ll tag: @strafethesesinners @krenee1drful @foofygoldfish @teamhawkeye @i-am-the-balancing-point @radiojamming and anyone who wants to try it! :D

Dove Ash:

Honey-

"Sugared mel e lingua serpentis." Sugared honey from a serpent's tongue. oh dearest, look how you gleam. how the sunlight dances off your shoulders, how the heavens shine across your wingtips. but you are hollow, hollow, hollow. even the taste of nectar can choke a man. sometimes the sweetest flowers hide the sharpest poison. you lie to yourself, the worst lie of all. you needn't be so obsessed with perfect. the greatest beauty lies in our faults. do you think the moon apologizes for their mara? no, their craters add to their glow. my dear, breathe. you are not an island, breathe, before the honey drowns you. you wish to be lovely, you long to be loved. but did Aphrodite trade her powers for perfection? she did not. you can be beautiful, and also whole. be whole above anything else dear. a heart of diamonds is worth nothing if ichor oozes from it. inward. look within and question how well do you know yourself? little petal are you trying to be a god? why? can a god bloom from sullen soil? no. you are whole as you are.

Vivian Wells:

Salt-

Ah little kraken, bold are you. restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. ah, of course, they are but the same object. oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? you have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. but off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. you do not have to be strong all the time love, there's nothing wrong with being soft. vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what's wrong with that? strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. put down Excalibur, and use your words. you'll find they will carry you much farther. not everything in life is a battle.

Valerie “V”:

Rosemary-

Ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. I'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

Me! (cause why not haha):

Lavender-

Oh moon child, restless sleeper, tell me what it's like to dream? you float along the margins of reality, picking up the pieces of fallen memories to sculpt into your own realm. you are searching, but your tongue is quiet, quiet, quiet. open your mouth and sing my dear, silence only does you good for so long. and here you planted roots in the darkness, where not even the moon can reach your leaves. there is such a thing as being too practical, for you sail your ship on perpetually calm waters, and never have you spotted land. your mind has wings, uncage them! allow yourself to dream, you are not too far gone. there is no such thing! trust in yourself dear.

[translightyagami]

Mikalight Week fic: 24-Hour Gym

a short mikalight fic for, what else, @mikalightweek. wrote it sort of quick? and its not explicit but is very sensual and there’s a lot of body talk and you can basically assume they fuck after the fic (i was TOO LAZY to write the smut). Anyway.

This fic is rated BPBB, for Bench Pressing Bodacious Babes.

Quiet and soft humid air filled the gym. From the window, Teru watched him with his standard issue NPA duffel bag slung over his shoulder, laughing at a text on his phone. When he looked up, they almost met eyes and Teru turned, facing his reflection in the wall-length mirror. His black hair hung in lank strands beside his face; his grey T-shirt collar darkened into a full-leaf of sweat over his front. The gym door bells jingled as he came in, cheeks pink from the mid-winter outside and a wary smile on his face.

Of course, Teru recognized him. Kira. Light. Above the brown trendy haircut floated his full name, the kanji confusing for a minute until – congealed and solidified – the meaning existed. While Light checked in with the sleepy front desk clerk, he talked loud and high-pitched. It was a voice unlike the one Teru heard in the warehouse, the one that told him after the police and that little white haired boy were dead, to go home. To make up an alibi. And to meet him, at this little 24-hour gym, in ten days.

Watching Light’s mirror twin walk to the back lockers, Teru lifted his dumbbells on autopilot – eleven, twelve, twelve, no wait – before setting them down, grabbing the towel he tucked into his jogger’s waistband. Nervous sweat and exertion sweat mixed together, all mopped away by a monogramed hand towel. When he glanced back up, Light was at the rowing machine.

For twenty minutes, they waltzed: Light moved to a machine, doing his reps, while Teru went to a different machine, did his own program. (An unceasing eye for detail made note that Light lifted about ten under Teru’s lowest weight.) Having shed a jacket now that he’d warmed up, Light worked in a loose white tank top that hung low in the sleeve holes. Every so often, when he reached to grasp a bar, his chest swooped in and out of view. Teru caught scar tissue, though never a long enough glimpse to know its shape. He stood from the arm extension machine and walked to the bench press. All the way he felt two sharp eyes peering at him from a leg machine.

Teru set the plates: two 10 kg., and then two 2.5 kg. plates, an unusual though not overwhelmingly larger weight than he lifted on a normal night. Foolish and near school-boylike, he wanted to show off in front of the other man. After setting the weights, he leaned back and rested his head beneath the long metal bar – and waited. The sound of God walking, a long stride with confident footfalls, was familiar in Teru’s ears. Head haloed in florescent, Light bent above the metal bar with arms outstretched.

“Do you need a spotter?” His tone suggested a joke – ha, ha, who else but me – but Teru only heard the question in serious.

“Yes,” he said, and it was then he realized these were the first words he’d spoken to Light in public. How apt, how right, that their exchange be God extending his hands to help Teru carry such a heavy burden. Light hovered his palms just around the silver length, eyes trained on Teru as he wrapped fists at either end and – oh! – lifted. Every rep, staring directly into a brown-eyed microscope, and Teru almost shook, lost his strength, when their hands nearly brushed. He managed ten reps before gently resting the bar back in place. Sweat dripped off his neck and above him, it made gems across Light’s forehead.

“Wow,” Light said. “You’re pretty strong.”

“T-thank you,” Teru cursed his stutter. He didn’t expect the compliment and it made a little flower burst inside his concrete encased heart. The flower only grew the longer Light looked at him, smile just a pink curve, eyes unnervingly genuine. It was a look that fake people in movies gave each other – Teru hated how much he liked to trust it. God had to be genuine – a kingdom of justice would never stand on false ground. Light’s stare trapped him with a weight deeper and heavier than any dumbbell, and when he glanced away, Teru gasped. His breath had flattened in his chest.

Light left first, at midnight, and when Teru went to his own locker at one thirty am, he found a note shoved into the air slits. On the note was a phone number and curt letter L for a signature. He folded it into the smallest triangle he could, having memorized the number, and set the paper beneath his tongue. As Teru packed his things, nodded to the gym employee, walked into a cold and calamitous city sidewalk, the paper poked and scraped the inner wet flesh. Pain in little bites followed him on his walk – each bright moment a moment of God beside him. Do you need a spotter? A question, a divine extended hand. Wow. You’re pretty strong. Strong, a warrior disciple, God’s most beloved. And, at the platform for his train home, he swallowed the dissolving note – communion.

Teru started working out in high school, when a gym teacher suggested a natural physical ability like his could use sculpting and recognized in him a perhaps genetic inability to play on a team. Ever since the first time, he took to the regimentation, the preplanning and trackable results of gym life. Within the walls of his usual club – the membership to which took up an embarrassing but necessary amount of his pay – Teru found ritual. A work out was an offering to the divine in his own body, and now it became religious practice, a modeling of himself into a better tool for Kira’s will.

This late night arrangement became weekly. On Tuesdays, Teru and Light worked out in the same hole-in-the-wall 24-hour gym, just them and one employee. Two owls dancing around the machines, Teru knew both their stares were gobbling each other’s body behaviors like so many tasty mice. He saw in Light a similar high-school athletics resolve, although the way his muscles smoothed rather than fit into shapes spoke more to sports than targeted workouts. Teru resisted his own snobbery in this observation – though he found a dedication to the perfecting of the body rather than to sportsmanship more pleasing. Kira had his reasons, maybe, for choosing athletic pastimes. There too was a certain leanness to Light’s body as well. Even with a layer of more authoritative muscle, he looked vulpine, foxlike in his lithe frame. His posture retained the slight slouch that many people who were slim in their young adult hood had; in fact, Teru only recognized it since he himself trained it out of his own habits a year prior.

And, yet, the flurry of observation – itself a thrill in its artificial intimacy – didn’t compare to those few minutes where Light leaned over, put his elegant hands out, and spotted Teru’s bench press. He took to doing them more often than his usual schedule. Combined with the bigger weights, an unevenness grew in his routine that Teru would never have allowed before. He couldn’t stop himself though. Anything for a few moments close enough to Light to see the split of his lips, the sweat trickling over his flushed cheeks.

On the fourth week, while Teru wiped down the leg press after he used it, Light approached him.

“Hey,” he said. “Isn’t weird how we’re always in this place together, but we’ve never learned each other’s names?”

“Mikami Teru,” Teru said. The tone was straightforward, and his volume normal – and still he imagined how imprudent he sounded. “I don’t usually go to this gym.”

Light narrowed his eyes and shook his head, just enough to say not the plan. Up his back, Teru’s spine stiffened. It was no joy to disappoint Light.

“Well,” Light said, slick voice untwisting the frustration in his gaze and presenting a smile that bordered on pretty. “I’m Yagami Light. I’ve really admired your routine. Maybe sometime we can meet up. I’m no good with workouts, not like you.”

“Oh. Yes.” Teru nodded. Meet up? Before he could ask a clarifying question, Light spoke over his concerns.

“Call me tomorrow,” he said. “I’m free after five.”

He walked away, not leaving a number except the one boiled in Teru’s stomach. No matter how heavy the weights he lifted, no matter the volume of the baby crying on his bus home, all Teru thought of was his phone and tomorrow after five. His palms itched.

He called at five twenty the next day, having rushed home after a meeting went long, and Teru never heard a worse noise than the ringing before Light picked up. On first answering, his tone was unpleasantly gruff, accusatory – a man in the drag of an older, wiser man. It clashed with the smooth youthfulness of Light’s voice in the gym, which only returned when Teru tentatively said his own greeting.

“Oh! Mikami,” Light said, a balm over the scratches left behind by his put-on masculinity. “You’re calling so late. I thought maybe you forgot.”

“No,” Teru said. “Never. I don’t forget important things.”

“Mm,” Light said. Behind his voice was a tapping sound, someone hitting paper with a pen. “I’m honored to be an important thing. Say, I didn’t catch it before, but where did you say you lived?”

Teru sat on a kitchen stool; he’d been standing, impatient, in the breakfast nook as though preparing to run to wherever Kira needed him. But the question set him down – why did Light want to know? And was it safe to say over the phone? Realizing he’d left dead air too long, Teru muttered that he lived further south – about an hour from the 24-hour gym.

“Oh, I see,” Light sounded mildly perturbed to be have been waiting. “I was just thinking, my girlfriend is making cookies and I thought I’d send you some. Do you have an address that’d be good?”

His girlfriend? Teru didn’t press but his stomach sank. However the phrase stung, he listed his apartment address in dutiful detail. In his ear were the soft scratches of Light’s pen writing everything down and, once he finished, Teru coughed. He didn’t want the phone call to end.

“Did you play sports?” His question flowed out in a proper, clear way, and Teru congratulated himself on how normal he sounded. “Maybe in high school?”

Light went quiet and when he spoke again, the words were cold.

“I played tennis,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I only wondered because,” Teru scrambled for something less damning to say, “you’re in such good shape but don’t like to work out. And usually that’s because of sports, I find.”

“Ah,” a low simmer melted Light’s voice. “You like to work out, don’t you, Mikami?”

“Mm,” Teru said. “I enjoy the time to work on my body. Physical fitness is a key to leading a good, worthwhile life.”

“Interesting,” Light said. He tapped his pen before popping his lips. Their wet click was at once disgusting – the body, the spit, the base physicality of it – and alluring – the body, the spit, the parts of Kira blessed by his own inner spirit. “I’ll send those cookies tonight. Expect them at your door around midnight, hm?”

“Oh.” This wasn’t about cookies. “Yes, I’ll look for them then. Thank you, Light. That’s very kind of you.”

“I’m always kind to my friends,” Light said.

At midnight, Teru heard the curt knock of the one he waited for. Standing in the hallway of his apartment building, wrapped in a coat, green sweater and black jeans, was Light. He smiled when Teru gestured for him to come inside – a good, well-raised smile. In a small childish part of himself, Teru wished to return such a pleasant smile. Instead, he nodded and raised his eyebrows as Light pressed a plastic box into his hands.

“I wasn’t lying, before on the phone,” he said, shaking off his coat. “My girlfriend was baking. She insisted I take some to meet my new friend. My recommendation?” Light swung around, coat on his finger and a wryness to his expression. “Toss them. Misa can’t bake.”

“How unfortunate,” Teru said. I’m a passable baker, he thought.

Light walked further into the one-bedroom space. He put his coat onto the black lacquered hat rack’s lower rung, ran a finger across the tight gray rectangle couch, and complimented the large entertainment center Teru built. When he let it slip that, in fact, he’d built it himself, Teru saw a curl of interest in Light’s gaze.

“I’ve always liked building too,” Light said, shrugging. “But never something so well constructed.”

He wandered into the sitting room and looked to his feet, a play-acted shyness. Nothing in his body language bar the glance down suggested timidity. Teru followed, although he knew his own behavior was less confident. Light flicked his eyes up and stilled Teru’s movements.

“I’m proud of your actions,” he said. “How well you served me, served the kingdom Kira hopes to build.”

A tremor worked through Teru and he sat, unable to keep his legs steady. To be acknowledged made him eager and fraught. Without thinking, he bowed his head, and a warm palm pressed over the back of his neck. Light murmured something.

“What did you say?” Teru asked, eyes going blurry the longer he stared at his own lap.

“I said,” Light slid a finger beneath his chin, tipping Teru up and into his line of vision. “Do you think you could bench press me?”

“I,” Teru frowned, his instinct to refuse presenting weakness. He fought past it. “I can try.”

The smile from before – polite, the kind a mother asked for during family pictures, toothless – warped into the brilliant split Teru recognized from the yellow warehouse. Light smiled in high volume, loud and greedy.

“Perfect,” he said. “Let me undress.”

“Undress?” Teru’s resolve wavered and he stood.

Light shrugged, already popping the button of his jeans.

“Won’t you need better traction?” He asked. “My clothes might cause your hand to slip.”

Breathless, Teru watched God strip down to a pair of black briefs. Shirtless, the two pink scars he saw glimpses of before swiped just beneath Light’s nipples, which hardened in the air-conditioning. Mental deduction took Teru up to chest surgery, although he couldn’t pinpoint the reason. As he stared, Light’s eyes took on impatience not unlike when Teru slipped up in the gym.

“Do I not please you?” Light raised his eyebrows, swinging out his hands. “Do you find God wanting in some way, Mikami?”

“No, no,” Teru covered his mouth. “I apologize for the imprudence. I only was curious.”

“Keep curiosity to the cats,” Light said. “Now, lay back and we’ll try this.”

Teru pushed his coffee table to the side and laid himself down on the sitting room rug. Flat on his back, Light leaning over him almost nude, a strange helplessness infected him. No matter what happened next, he had no real choice other than what Light chose for him. It didn’t help that Light’s gaze had an almost lepidopterist’s leer – staring at a captured butterfly and wondering what pins to use on its corpse. Teru shook himself inside; Kira didn’t think of him as a butterfly. He was a servant, a faithful one, and Kira found him strong.

Stretching up his arms, Teru cupped his hands and met Light with his own stare.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, “slowly place your waist in my right hand and your thigh in my left.”

Light nodded, walking around to stand next Teru’s shoulder. He bent in a gentle arc and his waist was the first thing to touch against Teru’s palm. In a shift, the confidence of before didn’t echo in Light’s actions now. He was cautious, still leaving one foot on the ground as he laid himself into Teru’s grasp. A muffled groaned left Teru; even with his weight distributed away, Light was still heavy.

“Um,” Light said. “Is it okay to let go?”

The question was human, quiet, and Teru wanted to file it away suddenly. He took a deep breath, wiggled his fingers where they held Light, and nodded.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

Light gasped as he lifted his leg. Balanced between Teru’s straining arms, he hovered untouched by anything but air and the other man. Teru was in pain – not just from the difficulty of holding up an adult man but from how good Light felt. He was warm, soft, and yet at the same time hard, solid muscle beneath the skin. Gritting his teeth, Teru heaved and lowered his armload until Light’s hip was just above his mouth.

He couldn’t help himself; Teru kissed the bare skin. His lips slid just so over goosebumps, tasting hints of salt and body lotion. Even partway through, he wanted to kiss the vulnerable hip again – memorize the flavor of Kira against his mouth. Light trembled and let out his name in a rasp.

“Mikami,” Light whispered. “Fuck.”

No answer occurred to him, so Teru lifted Light back up. As charged as the moment was, a small part of him celebrated being strong enough to, in fact, perform one bench press of another human. Light squirmed in his hands, too much, and without warning, Teru’s grip loosened. God fell out of his palms and landed hard on Teru’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

“Ah,” he shouted at the same time Light yelled, “Fuck!” They sat in sore heap. Teru rubbed his hands together, over and over. He’d failed; he let Light fall, hadn’t been strong enough to keep him stable. With trepidation, he glanced toward the other man prepared to see anger in God’s eyes, but instead Light stared back at him with arousal. His eyes were hot, molten, and his movements became languid.

“You’re so strong,” Light said, and now his voice was like nothing Teru ever heard before. There was a wildness mixed in with hunger. Light looked at him, and Teru wanted to be devoured.

“I knew the moment I saw you,” Light crawled up Teru’s aching body, his words like lava poured from his mouth. “You would be my strongest one.”

“I want to be strong for you, God,” Teru let out. “I want to serve you, be your sword.”

“Oh,” Light laughed, and it was an abrupt sound. Teru couldn’t say he liked it but the brightness in Light’s cheeks was good.

“You’ll serve me very well,” Light said, brushing Teru’s hair away from his ear so he could speak into it. His voice burned into the delicate shell. “Mikami.”

“Teru,” his voice came out a little weedy, yet Teru met Light’s hot gaze with his own resolve. “Call me Teru.”