#and has to unlearn a lot of things but he starts to see her as a person and sees her!! because theyre so similar! theyre the same in a way
Text
𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐄𝐖𝐖) !
jjk boys and their icks… because no man is perfect…
jjk boys x implied fem!reader
cw : men being gross, slight nsfw in nanami’s part, very mild misogyny if you squint in megumi’s part, this post was literally just so i could rant kinda
a / n : long time no see… not much to say other than i’ve been busy !!! anyways hope you enjoy :)
yuji itadori - bad grammar
giving him the tamest one tbh because he’s such a sweetheart </3 idk why but i feel like he just has such shitty grammar… like he’s smart ! just not when it comes to grammar. for example, he mixes up his to, too, and two’s, his there’s, and don’t get me started on your vs you’re :/ again he’s the sweetest boy ever ! it’s just the fact he probably failed his lit classes…
megumi fushiguro - “females”…
i was so close to giving this to satoru but i didn’t cause he has shoko to hold him down, megumi on the other hand… look, i don’t think he’d say it in front of girls, but to other dudes, yk ? and i definitely don’t think it’s on purpose to try and be an asshole but it just happens. quickly unlearns it when he says it around maki though.
yuta okkotsu - referring to himself in third person
you guys know how elmo is like, “elmo wants to go to the park,” yeah… yuta does this. and no, it’s not ironically. he definitely thinks it’s cute too and sometimes it is ! but it’s to an extent. like it’s cute the first couple times where he is goes, “yuta loves you,” but then it gets weird and corny when he’s like, “yuta wants to get dinner,” like ermmmm ok…
toge inumaki - fish pics.
as someone who lives in those south i see these OFTEN. for those who don’t know, fish pics are basically when dudes hold up fish they caught while fishing and post pictures of them holding it… i think the main problem with this to me is that a lot of very weird and racist men do it, so that’s why i hate it. anyways i’m 90% sure he has an official art where he’s holding a fish ( i also didn’t know what ick to give him ).
satoru gojo - his height is his whole personality
this shit irks me so bad omg. as someone who’s short ( 5’0 ) and hates seeing other short people make their whole personality their height, it’s even worst when it’s a tall person. satoru is definitely the type to be like, “omg guysss i bumped my head otw hereeee i’m so tallll,” like no you’re just stupid ! he definitely has other icks but this was the main one i could think of… ik he gets on everyone’s nerves.
suguru geto - says “my bad” instead of “im sorry”
another personal one tbh. i hate hate hate when people do this especially if it’s something serious. i remember one time someone pushed me in the mud ( i didn’t fully go on, just my foot ) and i got mud all over my white shoes and they have the audacity to go, “my bad,” like yeah it is your bad lmao. anyways, suguru def does this often especially to shoko. i feel like he’s pretty clumsy and say if shoko’s studying and he knocks over a drink onto her books he’ll say “my bad” and not even attempt to help her clean it up. like dude at least say sorry or something idk ???
nanami kento - calls his dick anything but a dick
“my member” you are grown !!! say dick !!! he does it to be ‘classy’ but like, he is pushing 30 doing this, just say dick. i also think it’s a shame thing ? idk probably hanging out with stsg for most of his teen years rotted his brain so he hates hearing really nasty stuff but he won’t even say penis half the time. like it’s really not that serious nobody wants to call your dick a phallus ( it was also really hard to give him an ick ).
choso - using 🥺 / 🥹
oh BROTHERRRR this one pisses me off. i hate both of those emojis in general but especially when men do it, it’s cornball behavior. like aren’t you supposed to be fighting in wars ? stand up. but i don’t think he has any ill intentions at all, honestly just picks emojis that represent his mood often. however he definitely uses 😂 instead of 😭… sorry choso…
song : ick - lay bankz
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk headcanons#jjk hcs#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#yuta okkotsu#inumaki toge#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nanami kento#choso#yuji itadori x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#inumaki x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso x reader#makisoda :: jujutsu kaisen !!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
How the slashers would react to a male s/o
just a little something to jumpstart this page ❤️
tw for some mentions of homophobia/outdated views
Michael Myers ('78):
He wouldn't care. He's got a lot more on his plate than worrying about whether his partner has a dick or a vagina. The fact that he hasn't killed you yet should be enough for you.
He wouldn't understand your insecurities. Why does it matter so much to you? He thinks you focus on the wrong things, but he won't say that to you. Not because he cares if he hurts your feelings, he just doesn't want to deal with your emotional turmoil at the moment. Although, if someone were to criticize your relationship, he might get irritated enough to kill them. Depends on your reaction and his current mood at the moment. Michael isn't the best at emotional support, sorry.
He'd defend you after a while. Lets not beat around the bush, its the 70s/80s, your gonna experience a lot of homophobia if your openly gay/bi. Michael knows what it's like being tormented by others, he was in a mental institution his entire life. If you end up getting discriminated against, verbally or physically, he'd kill the bully, plain and simple. He doesn't see this as an act of affection though; just something he needed to do. Still, your heart swoons a bit when he protects you. Enjoy it Y/N!
Daniel Robitaille
He'd be...confused. Daniel grew up in the late 1800s, and while being gay wasn't unheard of, it was definitely seen as a sin. He never thought he himself could ever be in love with another man.
He'd need time. He wouldn't know what to do with himself as this was entirely new territory for him. Homophobia was most definitely a value he grew up around, although he himself might not be homophobic. He was the son of a slave, a black man in the 1800s, an artist only loved for what he could make. He understands discrimination more than anyone else, so he defiantly wouldn't use your identity against you. Still, its a change so he'd be cautious to start anything with you.
He loves you no matter what. Ultimately, it only takes him a little while to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't care what you are, he loves you all the same. "We are one of the same, Y/N. Without you, I am nothing. Our pain will be told for generations. Be my victim, Y/N."
Jason Vorhees
Is this okay, mother? Pamela was a christian woman, so its pretty likely she had some outdated views on gay people. Not necessarily homophobic in nature, but she said some questionable things out of ignorance. Jason was raised with her values, so he'd have the same outdated views. He'd have to unlearn a few things for this relationship to really work. That being said...
Jason understands you. This is what really brings you two into an eventual relationship. He was born disfigured, and the world never let him forget it. And you? Well, it was the 80s, so... both of you were treated harshly for things you have no control over. Pamela would be more sympathetic towards you as well, and would eventually approve of this relationship, as you've proven you can give Jason everything he deserves. "Oh Jason, I knew Y/N was a good boy, just like you!'
He'd adore you all the same. Oh, to have someone (other than Pamela) who loves him! He would ultimately not care about your gender, and would make sure to let you know it. He loves you Y/N, don't ever doubt it!
Brahms Heelshire
Realistically... You wouldn't have been considered for the babysitting job as Brahm's parents probably only considered female candidates. That being said, you'd be hired after a slew of failed female nannies; Brahms wanted to try something new!
He'd love watching you. Oh Y/N, you may be a boy, but you're the prettiest boy he's ever seen! Seriously though, he loves to watch you taking care of doll, cooking food, moving around the estate, existing...you're just so different, Y/N! And he'd feel more connected to you because you understand certain problems...especially morning problems if you catch my drift.
He'd fall into stereotypes. Listen listen, Brahms was raised with old values, like 18th century old values, so even though you're both guys, he still expects you to fall into the "woman" role (cooking, cleaning, taking care of him, ect..). Brahms is a man, Y/N! Treat him like a king! Wait, what do you mean you're a man too? I-Its different, okay?! (You're gonna have to sit him down and talk out all those old value views if you want to be able to tolerate him).
#slasher fucker#slashers x reader#slasher x male reader#slasher x reader#candyman x reader#candyman x male reader#slashers#michael myers x reader#michael myers x male reader#jason vorhees x reader#jason vorhees x male reader#brahms heelshire x reader#brahms heelshire x male reader#slasher fandom#slasher community
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
WIBTA if I told my parents to get a divorce?
So, I (26M) live with my sister (19) and parents (67F and 63M) due to financial circumstances (that usamerican economy, eh?). The things described with my parents have been going on since I was in pampers.
My parents fight all the time. Over little things. In nasty, insulting the person and belittling them types of ways. Everything my mom does that my dad doesn't fully agree with or think she's doing exactly how it should be done, he yells at her for it and things become a screaming match. Sometimes my mom just stops talking, or just responds "Okay." until my dad tires himself out or gets so frustrated that he drops the argument. And she'll do similar things to him.
I've talked to them both one-on-one before about how aggressive and explosive they are during arguments. I've tried to impress upon both of them that personal insults don't make people change. Problems need cooperative solutions, where both parties are working towards the goal, whether that's dinner at a certain time or laundry at a certain frequency.
My dad justifies himself because my mom is just too difficult to deal with, and doesn't listen no matter how much he tries to tell her about an issue (his words. Not reality in my eyes, because he's never *telling* her an issue, he's *yelling* an issue at her). He's under the impression his demands for her to change are cooperative and equally-involved.
My mom doesn't tend to comment on her behavior beyond "I know. I get frustrated, but I know" or some excuse or another for my dad's behavior (her go to is "But I don't want to hurt the child in his heart anymore than his childhood has". In my eyes, not her responsibility to heal my grandma's neglectful, piss-poor parenting, especially when my dad has no interest in therapy of any kind). She doesn't think cooperation is possible with my dad, and doesn't want to start that conversation. In her words, it could end in a fight, or he just won't do his half of the work, so she might as well do the full task and save herself the frustration.
This, again, has been going on since before I could wobble on my own two feet. I don't think either are going to change. I hate seeing my mom roll over, especially because having grown up with this *I thought it was normal for a relationship to be so mean.* I had to put in a lot of work and experience a lot of difficult lessons to unlearn that. And I hate seeing my dad so frustrated to the point of blowing his fuse over mundane topics like dishes and parking spots. I worry about his health, and his happiness. I worry about both of their happinesses. I hate the pettiness. I hate the disrespect and the refusal to hear each other out.
The breaking point was today, when during an argument my dad started berating my mom over leaving the shower towels out too long. Yes, the towels were starting to ripen. But he started saying (yelling. I could hear him from upstairs, door closed) that as a mother she should know better than to let towels, especially towels that go on your face and hands and stuff, grow bacteria, and that she's disgraceful for not changing the towels daily. (Towels that, mind y'all, he ALSO could be changing daily, since one of those two towels is "his" shower towel).
I've been at the end of my rope for years. Yes one option is just beg a friend to let me rent a room off one of them and try to make ends meet, but that still leaves my sister stuck in this mess, and now stuck in it alone. I'm not keen on doing that. So. Would I be the asshole if I told my parents I think it's time to seriously consider divorce? Or hell, is there another option?
What are these acronyms?
83 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ve been with my fiancé for over 8 years now. We’ve been friends for even longer and just last summer we had been planning our wedding ceremony. Now, his family hadn’t been the best supportively, not when he came out as gay, and especially not when he, a Sapio, started dating me, a giant. They then effectively disowned him after we announced our engagement. I think they might have had some weird hope he’d ’change his mind’ or that it was a ‘phase’. This was about 3 years ago now, and I can’t speak for my partner, but he admitted though it hurt, he was relieved to be away from them after all the abuse.
Anyway, the reason for this letter is about 7 months ago we had gotten word that his family had been in a serious accident and that his parents, sister and her husband had passed away and he was listed as next-of-kin and subsequently guardian for his 4 year old nephew.
Now, we never really talked about kids beyond some vague idea. But my partner wasn’t going to turn away the kid, nor did I expect him to. So, after the funeral service and sorting with social services, we brought his nephew home.
It has been an adjustment for all of us, getting used to having a kid around and him being in a new environment that’s more geared for my size honestly. and we’ve been trying to find a good child psychologist for him. but the main problem is… well, he’s afraid of me.
I can’t really blame him for that, after everything he went through, but it still hurts sometimes when he flinches when I enter a room or speak to him. Or how he looks ready to cry when I open my mouth. Even trying to hide when he sees me just reading a book. I’ve grown up in a mixed community, but the way the kid looks at me, for the first time in a very long time, I feel like a monster.
My partner has told me once when we were in bed that his ‘family’ had been filling the kid’s head with anti-nightfolk ideologies and even some rather… well, blood-libel comments. I think he was trying to comfort me as he noticed the way the kid had been a lot more skittish with me than with him. He has been trying to explain that a lot of the stuff his folks talked about was lies and really bad stuff, but it’s hard unlearning these sort of things. I had suggested we postpone the wedding, at least till things settle.
I have been trying to seem less ‘intimidating’, not smiling with my fangs and trying to look smaller than I really am. But I’m worried he might never not be afraid of me. And I never told my partner, but I’m afraid that he will be forced to pick between me and the kid, and I don’t want him to do that as I know either option will hurt him.
So I’m asking. Is there anything I can do to try and help seem less… monstrous to my nephew?
I'm afraid there are no quick fixes here, reader. Your nephew has been exposed to some seriously toxic ideologies from a very early age. That isn't the sort of thing you can fix over night.
I would caution against trying too hard to diminish yourself or your creaturely traits as part of this process. You want your nephew to be comfortable with you, not with a nervous caricature of yourself.
Instead, I encourage you to behave at home as normally as you can, being as friendly as he'll allow you to be and respecting his boundaries when he expresses them.
If you haven't already, talk to your partner about what your strategies are going to be to improve the situation. This is a long-term project that needs complete buy-in from both of you to succeed.
As much as possible, your partner should be exposing your nephew to the idea of difference, teaching him that it's OK to notice that other people are different than him, but that he still needs to treat them with kindness and respect.
There are so many more resources available today to help children learn about these matters, from books and films to websites dedicated to help you discuss these issues in an age-appropriate way.
Books like Paws, Claws and More, What's for Lunch? and My Daddy's A Mummy are a great way to start these conversations and to help introduce your nephew to these ideas in a way that is accessible for him. Talk to your local librarian for more recommendations.
The best way for him to learn to trust you is through spending time with you, drowning out the hateful ideas he's been taught through real, lived experience of being safe and happy in the company of people in the community. Make sure to set time aside for all three of you to spend time together, doing activities your nephew will enjoy.
Of course, his exposure to the creature community shouldn't start and end with you. If you can, consider getting him involved in mixed genus groups where he can meet liminal children his own age. It might be a bit of an adjustment for him, but it will a huge boon to him in the long run.
Finally, please consider seeking out some additional support for yourself during this process. This is a difficult, highly emotional situation, and you need to find people who you can talk to about it beyond your partner, whether that's to talk through possible solutions or just to vent occasionally.
Fortunately, reader, if there's one thing children are built for, it's learning. It will take time and emotional commitment, but with a little effort, I think you and your partner will be able to teach your nephew a kinder way of looking at the world.
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Have No Right II Aemond Targaryen
part two
story masterlist / masterlist
summary: Driven by sheer desire, the One-Eyed Prince tries to find the woman that caused his sleepless nights full of lust and frustration.
warnings: female!reader, dark and possessive Aemond, sexual scenes, violent scenes
tag list (comment if you want to be added to the list):
@anehkael @aemonds-fire @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy @devils-blackrose @ruhjkie
══════════════════
The weeks passed by, and the girl found to enjoy the time at The Red Keep. Attending Princess Helaena was something she looked out to, everyday. It was hard work, that was for sure, but she grew to like it.
The night before, she was asked to wake up two hours early—she did not question it and did as she was told to. The day started as usual: She woke up, got dressed, did her hair, and went outside. But that morning, she met the hazel eyes of Laurane, who seemed to be awaiting her.
"Good morning," the girl greeted, wondering what she wanted from her.
"Good morning," she replied, "I'm sorry to throw you out of bed so early."
Laurane gave the girl a warm smile, before signaling her to follow her.
"Sanda has gotten sick. Poor thing, can't even get up without puking," she began, "So I will be needing you to attend Prince Aemond today now as well."
'Prince Aemond?' Did she really need to do this now? Her first encounter with The Prince left her fully angry, but she knew that anger had all left, and fear crept up her spine again.
The things people in the city were saying about The Prince. How he's on to killing his own nephews and Princess Rhaenyra anyway. That he's and evil person, wanting to kill anyone with his dragon.
Of course, those were just rumors, but everyone said them. A little bit of truth can be found in anything.
As they got closer to the Prince's chambers, the girl could feel the anxiety rushing through her, over and over again. Walking was hard, breathing was even harder. She felt like she unlearned those things all of sudden.
She tried to calm herself down. Telling herself that 'those things were just rumors, whispered between dark, pity, and poor people.' And it worked in some way. Her breathing steadied and she could feel her heart stop hammering in her chest.
The two arrived at Prince Aemond's bedchamber, and the girl knocked. Laurane had already left, when the young maidservant opened the door.
She entered the chamber, and Prince Aemond woke up immediately—it was like he felt someone's presence in his sleep.
"Good morning, my Prince," the girl greeted, hiding her frightened trembles in the darkness of the room.
She walked over to the windows. While drawing the curtains open, she felt the gaze of the Targaryen prince on her—it left a burning sensation on her skin. A feeling of unease spread in her entire body, but she had to get over it. Had to get her work done properly.
The room did not lit up by much. It was very early in the morning, so it was still gloomy and dark outside—Prince Aemond started his days off earlier than the rest of the royals.
The girl brought light to the room, by lighting the candles. She turned around, and just now, she was able to see The Prince in the corner of her eye.
This bedchamber looked a lot paler than Princess Helaena's did. It wasn't cozy or warm at all. No tapestry was hanging on the wall, only one carpet laid beside his bed. It did not look like the chamber of one of The King's sons, as it was so lifeless.
A white-blonde head approached her. But as she turned around, a quiet gasp escaped her mouth—she prayed to the gods that The Prince did not hear it. He walked through his chamber, wearing...nothing.
She should have known. It would not have been such a surprise, if she just thought about it beforehand. Princess Helaena, as well as all women, always wore her night gown. Men did not do that.
The young girl looked away from her Prince immediately, rushing over to his closet. She tried to escape his presence, as she felt her cheeks warm up.
"Where is my usual maidservant?" He suddenly asked.
She had to turn back around to face him—that was the only respectful way, one was allowed to interact with the highborned. He did not care for his maid to see him completely naked—and that bothered the girl.
She accidentally took a glance at his bare torso, eyeing at his toned muscles, and pale skin. She rapidly looked him back in the eye.
"I'm sorry, Sanda has fallen ill, my Prince," she explained, "I will be attending you for the moment."
He stood there, completely still. His stare burning holes in her body, as he looked up and down her face. He was so concentrated on it that the girl wondered what he was up to. But The Prince just hummed in response, before making his way to the bath.
"My riding clothes," he ordered, right before disappearing in the other chamber.
The girl rummaged around the closet, until she found the Prince's riding clothes for his dragon. She waited a few more moments, for The Prince to come back and get his clothing.
"What takes you so long?" An annoyed shout, echoed from the bath, and the girl hurried over to it.
The Prince wanted her to bring him his clothing. She wondered if he liked how embarrassed she felt, seeing him all naked. He was amused by the girl's cheeks flushing and how desperately she tried to keep her eyes from moving down his body.
"I apologize, my Prince."
And he hummed again.
She placed the clothing on the shelf and left the bath, without daring another glance at him. The Prince came back soon after, gladly fully clothed.
The girl stood beside his desk, filling the bowl up with fresh water. She felt his burning look on her again, and turned back around to face him. He was still staring at her, and thinking about something.
"Is there anything else I could to for you, my Prince?" She asked, her hands lying flat on her thighs.
Prince Aemond examined her whole body, raising one of his eyebrows. His arms were folded behind his back. The girl felt so small under his gaze, and he could smell how coy she was.
"Do I know you?" He inquired all of sudden.
The girl found his question so strange.
"No, I don't believe so, my Prince," she denied, "I am attending your sister, you have only seen me in her chambers."
He looked at her for a few more moments, before humming again.
"No, I won't be needing you right now." He told her, and she started walking towards the door, "I will order a bath, once I arrive back."
The girl bowed her head at her Prince, and left his chambers. Though, she found the latest encounter questionable, she did not bother to think about it any longer.
She opened the door to Princess Helaena's chambers, who was, all to her surprise, already waiting for her. The curtains were drawn open and the young Princess was impatiently walking up and down the floor, still in her night gown.
As soon as she noticed her maidservant enter, she came rushing towards her. The girl's head filled with confusion.
"My apologies, Princess. I did not expect you to be up so early," she explained.
"Didn't I told you to be careful?!" Princess Helaena shouted at her, as soon as she finished her sentence.
More questions loaded the girl's mind.
"I-I...I'm sorry, my Princess, but what are you talking about?" The girl mumbled, startled from her Princess.
She harshly grabbed onto the girl's shoulders, who jumped up from the sudden touch.
"Listen to me, when I tell you to stay away from him! He's driven by forces you don't understand!"
'Stay away from him'? 'Forces you don't understand'? What was she trying to tell the girl?
"Princess, who are you talking about?" The maidservant asked.
"You and him!"
"Who?" She repeated.
"I...I don't know..." Princess Helaena looked like she came back to her body, as a sudden fog spread over the clearness in her eyes.
The Princess now looked as confused as the young girl did. She tries to grasp the thought, the picture, whatever it was that she just had in mind. But she couldn't. It was gone.
"What do you think about a beige dress for today?" Princess Helaena just suddenly asked, like nothing had happened before.
The girl was too stunned to say anything for a moment. Was it really just The Princess' confused mind that was saying those strange words? Or was she actually a woman of prophecy, like she was told, weeks ago?
Princess Helaena's words were not going to leave the girl's head. They repeated, and repeated, and repeated themselves.
After she heard them for the first time, she didn't thought about them for weeks, but now they did not want to leave her. She wasn't able to think about something else for the rest of the day.
The girl was outside, hanging clothing up to dry, when the sky suddenly darkened. She looked up, to see where the darkness came from, but a huge black shadow startled her.
It was the large body of Vhagar, Prince Aemond's dragon, that was blinding the light of the sun—he had returned from his flight.
The girl hurried to his chambers, to prepare his bath. She got stronger everyday, so carrying the heavy buckets of water, from the fireplace to the tub, wasn't such a challenge than it was back then.
She was almost finished, when the door to the chamber opened, and her Prince came stomping in. He was angry, raging and cursing around, until he noticed the maidservant.
He immediately went silent, and moved to the bath. The moment he entered, the whole room filled with the strench of dragon. This smell was not in any way close to something she knew. It smelled somewhat like a hundred cowsheds, but nothing even close to a cowshed, at the same time.
"Good evening, my Prince," the girl greeted
The Prince's heavy, angry breathing calmed down. He opened up the laces of his clothing, but seemed to struggle.
The girl rushed over to him, helping him to undress himself. She undid the laces of his leather arm protectors, and brushed them off his wrists. Her soft fingers, slightly brushed over his chest, as she was opening up his riding clothes.
He shivered at her touch, and he was confused as of why. She helped him pull up his shirt, before getting back to the fireplace, to finish filling up the tub.
He got out of his pants, and was once again fully naked. But the girl was now less bothered by it, as she was busy with her work. The Prince got into the tub, and the young maid poured the last bucket of water in it.
She was about to place the wooden bucket down, when The Prince opened his mouth.
"If you could fill it again, so I can clean my scar, you are free to go for today," he calmly said.
"Do you want me to help you with that, my Prince?" She asked, fully determined to give him any help she could, as he seemed quite helpless—even though that was not how The Prince's reputation made it seem like.
"You don't have to, it's not nice to look at," he admitted.
He seemed insecure about his scar. The girl understood that. Prince Lucerys took his eye when they were children. Since then, whole King's Landing was talking about The One-Eyed, mutilated, now-ugly Prince. It was horrific. And it definitely was known to The Prince, how the people talked about him.
"I gladly offer my help, my Prince. But if you are uncomfortable-"
"I'm not." He interrupted her, before she could finish her sentence.
He looked at her for a few more moments, before slowly moving his hand to the piece of leather laying over his eye. She made her way to the fireplace, to fill up the bucket with warm water.
As she turned around, she couldn't believe her eyes. She thought she'd see a scary, disgusting, empty eye socket. But it was utterly beautiful, instead. Where Prince Aemond's eye once was, sat now a large sapphire gemstone. It was shining so blue, that he looked absolutely magical.
She was so astonished by it that she didn't realize how she was staring at him. She stood completely still, just looking at his face.
"If you want to leave, you are free to go," he said, pulling her out of her trance.
She awkwardly looked around the room.
"I'm sorry, my Prince," she began apologizing, "I-I just didn't expect this, I am so sorry. I was just amazed by the beauty, if I'm allowed to say that."
She looked down on the floor, too embarrassed by what she had done. She expected The Prince's wrath coming upon her, but all to her surprise, he started laughing.
"Amazed by the beauty?" He repeated what she just had said, "That's the first time I heard someone say this!"
Relief flushed over her body. She had to chuckle at his response as well. It wasn't only the girl who was surprised. Prince Aemond never expected a single soul to call his face 'beautiful'. It made him think...
She kneeled beside the tub, eye level to her Prince. She dipped a clean cloth in the warm water, and slowly and carefully stoked over the skin around Prince Aemond's eye.
His eyebrows flinched in pain, and the girl stopped.
"Am I hurting you, my Prince?" She asked, clearly concerned.
"It's alright. It is worse when I do it myself," he smiled at her.
This was probably the first time she saw The Prince smile. She never even heard about him smiling about something. A warm feeling spread inside of her, at the sudden kindness of him.
She continued, and Prince Aemond was staring at her the whole time. She tried not to be bothered by it, tried to ignore it as best as she could. As she was done cleaning his scar, she got up.
"And you are sure, we don't know each other?" He suddenly asked, as she was about to leave.
"I'm just a maidservant, my Prince. How could we know each other?" She smiled at him, confused about this question again.
He just hummed in response, and the girl left.
It got dark, The Red Keep was asleep, but the young maid could still not banish The Princess' voice from her mind—it was driving her insane.
The hours passed by like a dream. She felt stuck in her body, watching as something took over her, and worked her chores, while she was punished inside, listening to her Princess' prophecy, over and over again.
It was late at night, but she had to finish folding the laundry of The Princes. She stood in the hallway that led to one of the lesser known exits of the castle, right to Blackwater Bay.
It wasn't as guarded as it probably should be, but the chance to unknowingly sneak into the castle from the water side, was pretty low.
The young maid enjoyed working at night. It was quiet, peaceful, and calming—especially after her thoughts had haunted her the whole day. But that quiet and peaceful ambience got interrupted by loud footsteps, echoing through the halls.
A horror crept up the girl's spine, as no one was supposed to be awake by that time. Who's steps could be coming closer to her?
Her heartbeat began racing, as the footsteps got faster, sounding like someone's running—running exactly towards her. The girl pulled together all the bravery she had, and walked towards the sound.
Her hands were sweaty, and she could feel her breath laying heavy on her chest. But she kept going.
She was about to turn to another hallway, when for a moment, everything got black. She opened up her eyes again, feeling the cold floor on her back, and a warm weight on top of her.
Someone ran into her, making her fall to the ground. She looked up to find a cloaked man, over her. His hands were placed left and right on the ground. She could feel his breath on her face.
But as she looked him in the face, her heart just stopped beating. It was him. She stopped thinking about him, after a while. She never guessed, she'd see him again, anyways. It was unbelievable. Unbelievable that he was now just inches away from her. Was she dreaming?
The cloak, the piece of leather over his eye, and the white strands of hair, falling over his face. There was no doubt. It was him—the man that had saved her back in the city, when she was out for her mother's needs.
What was he doing in the castle? Why was he here? And would he even remember her? She didn't even knew his name.
"I-I'm sorry, sir," the girl apologized.
The man's eye widened at what the young maid just called him. No one called him 'sir' in a long time. He quickly got up, and with incredible speed, he ran away to the exit of the castle.
The girl wondered, if he recognized her. Why didn't he say anything to her, or at least help her up? Those questions held her up that night, but what made her mind crack the most, was the fact that her savior was somewhere in the castle. He was somewhere working here, the whole time, and she did not notice—she felt so stupid.
<< next chapter >>
#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen imagine#fanfic#fanfiction#aemond x reader#smut#hotd imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aegon#aegon targaryen#aemond imagine#aemond targaryen x you#aemond fanfiction
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
Evergreen – Can I get lost in your mind if I let you get lost inside mine?
part 1 ↣ part 2
izuku midoriya x reader
cw: aged up characters, pro-hero au, lots and lots of angst, some canon-typical violence and deaths, Izuku experiences triggers, panic attacks, and nightmares, Reader has a dream-altering quirk, adult language, Reader is referred to as she/her. i see a lot of myself in midoriya so i gave him the therapy that i need
14k words
Hi all! This is part 1 of my Izuku Midoriya fanfic, Evergreen. This has been so long in the making. I am posting this first chapter to see what people think! Please, like and reblog if you enjoyed! Izuku is a very interesting character study, and I hope I can make you feel something. xoxo, Jean
Something's different today.
Izuku could sense it when he woke before the shrill cry of his alarm rang out–the first one, not the second–and groaned as he rolled over to turn it off before it got the chance to sound. He somehow felt lighter, more awake than usual, with the customary deep aching in his body feeling less like a roar and more like the soft grumble of a stomach gone a couple of hours unfed. No nightmares, he realized. No painful flashes of memory, prophecies of horrors to come, bloodshed he couldn't prevent. In fact, he'd had a dream, a flashback to his days at UA that didn't involve terror or loss. He and his friends were gathered around a fireplace eating a pumpkin pie, courtesy of Sato. Dreaming like that was so uncommon, he had almost started to believe it was altogether impossible.
He sighed deeply at the thought, and couldn't help when the edges of his lips turned up into a sleepy grin when his large exhale didn't rattle in his chest like it usually would. In the soft glow of the dawn, Izuku felt almost peaceful, safe enough to be ignorant and ignorant enough to experience bliss. He rarely, if ever, got the opportunity to feel such a thing, opting instead to dwell—to improve, he would say. He had always believed that one can never stop trying to be better, but somewhere along the way, that sentiment shifted into "One can never stop." Deku, of all people, could never stop. So Izuku couldn't either, but he was trying to reprogram. He needed to slow down.
When he finally roused himself awake enough to sit up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes before unceremoniously tossing the blanket from his body. His legs swung out over the edge of the bed and he rose to stand, more eager than usual to start his day. What usually felt like going through the motions somehow felt like ceremony, like a ritual for the betterment of the self. He found himself delighted at the smallest of things: the perfect amount of toothpaste on his toothbrush, the toast that didn't tear apart when he added butter, the song that came on shuffle as he began his morning workout. When was the last time the monotony of life felt like a gift instead of a curse? Izuku couldn't say.
It was a rare day off, which meant he would get a chance to run a few errands, maybe even watch that movie Mina had been pestering him about. He vaguely remembered something about it being "so good, holy shit." He chuckled at the memory, filing the idea away for later. First, he would have to run to the store for a couple things, some needs and some wants.
His therapist had expressed that he needed to be more in tune with his wants, even if he had to start small. He needed to unlearn the guilt and resist the urge to neglect his desires altogether if he ever hoped to get back to feeling whole again.
"Invite joy into your life," she'd advised, but Izuku still struggled with the idea of doing things for the sake of himself.
Even things he enjoyed had become twisted into things that felt like necessities: exercise, eating right, helping people. As a hero, those things were integral to his success, which was integral to the stability of the community he served. It was easier to keep putting water into an empty stomach; he didn't want to unpack all of the things that made it growl.
Izuku could however, at the very least, watch a movie his friend suggested, or maybe even try that new bakery people at the agency kept recommending. Ever the early riser, he liked places that opened for breakfast, and as much as he hated to admit it, he also had quite the sweet tooth.
Before heading out, he needed to shower, which was undoubtedly his favorite part of any day. It was grounding; it made him feel real. He could feel and remember how the water had cascaded over his head, down his back, across his fingertips. His eyes liked to trace the water down the drain, wondering how small he needed to shrink to follow it. He wondered what everything was for, needed to drown himself in reality, in reverence of memories. Count the shower tiles, count sheep, count blessings, even when it felt impossible. It often did. There was so much loss in the world. He'd seen it, felt it, been powerless to stop it. No wonder he couldn't dream properly, only remember and regret.
Izuku knew what his problem was, he'd talked extensively about it in therapy after his mom noticed that her son was fading away right in front of her eyes. He even tried to study it like he would any villain, but that was exactly it: he always wanted to rehabilitate. He settled himself among the outcasts, the villains, those who needed him the most because they got the least. He convinced himself they just needed to be sat with and shown love. Be it a villain or a slew of bad feelings, he needed to take them all in. He made himself responsible for them, and in return they devoured him. He needed to slow down.
Letting the warmth of the water rush over him, Izuku began to wash his body, hoping to scrub away any lingering sadness that had mixed with his sweat. Once finished, he retrieved his towel and patted himself dry, feeling better now that he was clean on the outside and centered within. He threw on the clothes he had laid out, a grey hoodie and some sweats, staring straight into the mirror as he steeled himself to face the public. He pulled a hat on over his still wet hair, hoping that hiding his signature green head of curls would be enough to keep people at bay.
It wasn't like he didn't appreciate the support he was given; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He just wished to move silently through his business like anyone else, eternally nervous about causing a commotion. Even after years of hero work, it was hard for him to come to terms with the fact that people genuinely wanted to know him. His therapist often had to remind him that it's partially because he had the pleasure of knowing himself as Izuku first, before Deku, before being any sort of figure at all. Not that he felt like Deku was someone else entirely, he just accepted that his hero persona was more aptly described as an amplification of himself, an exaggeration of all of his best parts. That side of him wouldn't function in any other context, and Izuku often found himself floundering when the lines blurred.
However, it was time to face the masses. He rolled his shoulders back a couple times in a last ditch effort to calm himself before grabbing a few reusable shopping bags from the shelf beside his door, turning the handle, and leaving the sanctity of his apartment. The fortress of solitude. Not quite the glimmering, crystal palace people might expect from a pro-hero, but he preferred that. Izuku liked his snug little hole in the wall apartment, with its peeling wallpaper, broken baseboards, and squeaky floors that helped him to feel safe. He couldn't remember the last time he wasn't on high alert, constantly on guard from an impending doom he couldn't place or name. He just knew that he preferred being tucked away in the heart of the city, contrary to the insistence of agency executives who would constantly try to tell him he'd be happier elsewhere, "That new penthouse on 6th Street, maybe."
And maybe he would; he's nothing if not adaptable, but high-rise life wasn't really his style. The last time some big wig handed him the keys to some fancy new apartment, he passed them right along to his secretary. Izuku figured she needed it much more than he did and unbeknownst to her, he'd been paying for it ever since. He didn't spend money on much besides necessities: food, rent, utilities. Dropping a couple thousand a month on someone who genuinely deserved it also felt like a necessity, or maybe just like the obvious choice. So he did.
Now, as he set out for the market, he made a mental note of what he needed. Hoping he could get in and out as quickly as possible, he mulled over his list while turning to lock his front door, subconsciously nodding as each item crossed his mind.
He jiggled the door handle to make sure it was locked, once and then twice, then startled at a sudden voice from beside him.
"Song in your head?"
Izuku turned quickly, coming face to face with you, his next door neighbor, who seemed to be leaving in a rush. At least, if the hurried locking of your door was anything to go by.
"Oh, no," he managed to mumble, "Just thinking."
He hadn't officially met you yet; you had only moved in about a month prior. The elderly woman who previously lived next to him had been moved into a care home by her family. She was a nice woman, but he could tell that her mental faculties had been wearing down for some time. Izuku was sad to see her go, as he had regularly helped her carry groceries from the parking lot up to her apartment, when he caught her. She was a compassionate lady, always thanking him with tea or a story about her cat, Larry. He wondered what would become of the old cat.
He'd hoped his new neighbor would be kind like the last tenant, or at the very least, considerate. He already appreciated that you seemed to live quietly, like him. Mostly, he was just surprised to see someone awake as early as he was, wondering what kind of business could've had you up so early in the morning. You had a pretty face, but he could see you looked tired. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but it seemed like your eyes hid the same exhaustion he often saw in his own.
You hummed, offering a small smile as you spoke, "You're a full-body thinker."
He didn't really know what to say to that, so he just returned your grin with a tight-lipped smile of his own and a small nod. You wished him a good day and swiftly disappeared down the hallway, and he reciprocated before checking his lock one last time– for good measure.
As he left his apartment building, Izuku found himself over-analyzing the interaction he'd had with you. He wished he was a better conversationalist, but that was nothing new. You were right; he is definitely a full-body thinker, which unfortunately meant his time processing words, thoughts, and actions was often prolonged. It also took a lot out of him. No one would believe it by looking at him, but pro-hero Deku had actually become quite the introvert. However, Izuku wasn't sure if that was a natural reaction to his spending long periods of time alone, or just the fatigue and mellowing that came with age. He figured the slow processing thing was a symptom of all his hero work, a reset after constantly moving and thinking so quickly.
Regardless, you had taken the time to speak to him so early in the morning, despite being so obviously exhausted and in a hurry. Maybe you were just being polite, but in a way it felt nice to be noticed for something other than being a hero. It felt nice to have something noticed about him, about Izuku, that had nothing to do with his status. If he saw you again, he would try his best to return that same courtesy.
His walk to the supermarket was short, which was yet another thing he loved about where his home was situated. He felt like he was right in the middle of a community that was always bustling with life. Despite his reservations about being among them, it was well-known that Izuku had always taken an interest in the lives of the people around him. Not only was it his job to care for them, but an intrinsic part of him that had been present since his birth. He didn't know any different.
After his short journey, Izuku found himself meandering through the aisles of the market with a shopping cart, loading it up with as much as he could. He wasn't really sure when he would have the time or energy to make it back out for groceries. A lot of times, his sweet mother would bring him care packages with food and anything she thought he might need, but he enjoyed the act of shopping for himself when he could. He considered himself lucky to have such a doting mother, but always wanted her to know that he was fine on his own as well. He assumed he got his anxious nature from her, but he knew better than anyone that there is a lot to be anxious about in the world. Big bad wolves.
He ended up with quite the haul, fresh fruit and vegetables as well as various proteins and carbohydrates. He also made sure to grab some non-perishables that could stand the test of time, just in case. He even threw in their most expensive bottle of wine, thinking of no better way to invite joy into his life than a nice glass with dinner. His therapist would be proud.
Izuku finished up in the store and realized he would have to awkwardly pack mule everything he had bought back to his house, but once it was all situated inside the bags he had brought with him, it wasn't really a problem. Obviously, he received a few odd glances, but he wasn't sure if it was out of recognition or awe at the amount of stuff he was carrying at once. Maybe both. He walked a bit faster on his way back, not because the groceries were heavy, just because they were so unwieldy and hard to get a good grip on. He felt like the circulation to his fingers was being lessened by the second.
When he finally reached his door, he set everything down beside him while he unlocked it, planning to put everything away and then head right back out. That new bakery he wanted to try was only a ten or fifteen minute walk in the other direction, and he was eager to get going. In hindsight, he could have just gone there first, but he wanted to get the more tedious task out of the way first. He often found that made the interesting tasks easier to enjoy.
Once inside, he set about putting everything where it belonged, and soon enough, he had restocked his kitchen. He sent his mother a quick text to let her know he had managed to get to the store, snapping a picture of the wine he had purchased and promising to let her know how it was later. She responded almost immediately, like always, with a string of smiling emojis. He chuckled as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and grabbed his keys to set out once again. Moms and emojis.
The journey to the bakery was more of the same. Izuku enjoyed the chill, morning air as he walked past the few people who were out so early in the day. Hands in his pockets, head down, eyes up and wandering, he made his way down the sidewalk until coming upon the storefront he had been looking for. He'd already eaten breakfast, but he had been waiting all morning to get his hands on some sort of warm pastry. Hopefully something with pumpkin, since his sweet dream had basically left his mouth watering at the thought.
A small bell jingled from above as he swung open the door to the cozy shop. He immediately moved to rub his hands together in an attempt to warm them up as he fell in line behind the only other person in the store. In his haste to scan both the menu and the case of baked goods in front of him, he almost missed it. Well, he almost missed you.
There you stood, working at the register, and it suddenly made sense why you were up so early in the morning. He felt nervous, not wanting to repeat the awkwardness from before, but settled down once your eyes landed on him. You gave him a warm smile that could only be described as genuine, and seemed almost excited that he was there. Once the other customer stepped out of line, Izuku took his place to order.
"Hey, thinker," you quipped, causing him to chuckle softly, putting his hands up in mock defeat.
"Hello again," he said, "still no song in my head, but I've been dreaming about eating something with pumpkin."
You laughed sincerely at that, moving from your spot at the register to direct his attention to some of the options in the bakery case.
"You're in luck," you began. "Pumpkin is in season right now. We have some pumpkin scones, pumpkin bread, pumpkin muffins, and even some pumpkin croissants, courtesy of yours truly."
Izuku nodded along as you rattled off the options, meeting your eye in time for you to mutter, "Pumpkin doesn't sound like a real word anymore."
He laughed openly at that and ordered one of the pumpkin croissants, just to see what they were like. You complimented his selection as you carefully grabbed it from the case and placed it into a small paper bag.
"Alright," you said, "One pumpkin croissant will be $2.50,"–you opened the register before immediately slamming it shut again–"but for you it costs nothing."
He felt his brow furrow in confusion as you held the bag out expectantly, waiting for him to take it.
"T-that's kind, but won't be necessary," he sputtered. "I have $2.50 right here," Izuku added, removing the correct amount of money from his wallet and offering it to you.
"No can do; this one is on the house," you said with some finality. "Consider it a neighborly gift."
He swallowed thickly, but smiled, shoving the cash back into his wallet. Your fingers brushed his own as he accepted the bag with a small bow of thanks.
"At least tell me your name for when I return the favor somehow," he pleaded.
You grinned, smacking your head lightly as you said, "Oh, duh! I'm Y/N."
"Y/N," he replied, trying out the name. "It's nice to properly meet you. I'm–"
You cut him off, "I know." You then paled slightly as you continued with some embarrassment. "Not in a weird way! It's honestly a long story. I just want to do what I can for people who deserve it, I guess. God, I am rambling, but I really and truly don't expect anything from you."
He watched as you laughed nervously and awkwardly scratched the back of your neck. Once again, he'd been left at a loss for words, only managing a soft, "Oh," before processing all that you had said.
"Well, thank you," Izuku said finally. "I appreciate this."
You waved him off with a comical salute before turning your attention to welcoming a new customer into the store, once the soft dinging of the door bell signaled her entrance.
As he left the shop, Izuku felt lighter once again, moved by the kindness of a now not-so-stranger.
"Y/N," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly with a small smile. "Pumpkin..." he tried the word for himself, "yeah, no. Not real," he laughed.
Izuku ate as he walked, and tried not to let himself think too hard about what you had said. It was easy to gather how you'd known who he was, but for how long? When did you realize? He supposed he should just be grateful that you seemed sincere in your desire to simply do something nice; he'd met his fair share of stalkers, well-meaning but slightly unhinged fans, and straight up villains posing as devotees in order to get at him. If you were any sort of villain, you had to be the worst at it. All time worst, in fact, so he knew that wasn't the case. Stalker? Maybe, considering you knew where he lived, but in the month or so you had lived next-door you hadn't even made an attempt to introduce yourself. Once again, all time worst, if that was the case. He hated how conditioned he was to think about those things, but it came with the job.
Regardless, nothing about you made Izuku feel like he needed to be on his guard. If anything, he just wanted to be...better. Something about you made him want to be better. At the very least, he regretted not taking more time getting dressed in the morning, but you didn't seem like the type to care.
He hummed at the taste of the pastry you had made and basked in the thought that you might just be a person he should get to know. He wanted to prove all the good things he imagined about you, to search your being and find a friendly soul that was as pleasant as your face, or to discover aspects of your nature that were even better than what he could imagine. How long had it been since he met someone new, someone who had nothing to do with work? He convinced himself that a new friend would be good for him. It was either that or accepting that he was starved of a womanly presence in his life that wasn't his mother. Definitely a possibility.
Once he returned to the sanctity of his apartment, Izuku rid himself of his shoes and collapsed onto the couch. He let the quiet stillness of his living room overtake him, slowly willing himself to relax as the familiarity of his surroundings worked to cleanse his mind of any lasting, outside-world anxiety. He focused on what he could see: beige wall, black couch, white pillows, sage rug. Beige wall, black couch, white pillows, sage rug. Beige wall, black couch, white pillows...
Izuku breathed deeply and allowed himself to sink further into his couch, slipping his phone from his pocket to send a text to his mother about the new bakery. He decided against mentioning the nice cashier who gave him a free pastry, lest mommy dearest get any ideas, but encouraged her to go there herself.
"Pumpkin is in season right now," she messaged back, and he grinned, his mind instantly conjuring an image of you saying the same thing.
He replied with a pumpkin emoji that he knew would bring a smile to her face and delighted when she messaged back with her own string of emojis. Izuku really did love his mother, even when he could barely understand what she was trying to say through her odd combinations of tiny emoticons. When he bought her a new phone, that was the feature she was most excited about.
"They're cute! Now, I can type with little pictures instead of words," he recalled her saying, and the rest was history.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and sighed, wondering where to even begin with the rest of his day. Funnily enough, once he decided, it seemed like it was over in a flash. One minute he's making lunch, and the next it's ten o'clock at night and he's sobbing over that damn movie Mina had suggested, two (heaping) glasses of wine deep and thinking that really was so good, holy shit. He should've known he wouldn't make it through without crying; there was a dog on the cover.
Nevertheless, Izuku gathered himself up, wiped his eyes a few more times, and washed his glass before tucking it snugly back into the cabinet. He wasn't necessarily tired, but he knew he needed sleep. It was back to work tomorrow, a new week full of new challenges. And opportunities, he tried to remind himself. Always opportunities.
He double checked that his door was locked before padding to the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth. His eyes met his own as he gazed into his reflection, and he bit his lip as he tried not to worry about his nearing sleep. He didn't consider himself lucky–or perhaps deserving–enough to expect two restful nights in a row, but prayed to whatever or whoever that maybe he could swing it. One more night without nightmares. One more night full of dreams. Please.
Izuku opened his phone one last time before bed, sending a simple "wine was good" text to his mother despite knowing she was probably asleep already. He liked to let her know he was thinking of her. As his eyes closed, he let his mind wander back to the bakery. It was a trick he'd picked up from his therapist: focus on the good, focus on the senses. Give them space, give them a name. It helped him fall asleep, so he began. He could taste the saccharine fluff of the pastry. He could hear the jingling of the door bell, smell the sweetness in the air, and feel the brush of your fingers against his own. On the backs of his eyelids, he could almost make out your face...
——
You heard it before you saw it.
With your eyes closed and body long settled into your own slumber, your ears caught the soft but unmistakable jingle of the bell above the bakery's door. And suddenly, you were transported from your bedroom and back into the cozy shop where you worked. However, you didn't stir, only opened your eyes to your dreaming in this threshold consciousness to which you'd become accustomed, and you watched the scene unfold from a new perspective. Izuku Midoriya's perspective. You were in his dreams once again.
You looked down at your large hands–much larger than your own–as you pulled them from your hoodie and rubbed them together to create some heat. On them you saw scars healing at various stages, callouses, burns even, from work that wasn't your own. You felt chilled from being outside, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you stared at a menu you knew you had memorized, but now you saw it with new eyes. And then, you saw yourself.
It was strange, but inside this body you inhabited you didn't sense any aversion. Izuku felt almost...giddy as the past you opened your mouth to speak to him. You felt for yourself exactly when his heart began to beat just a bit faster, heard his thinking as his mind analyzed and reanalyzed his every word. He was dreaming of you, replaying your meeting and wishing he had been different. It made you–the real you, let's call it your soul–sad to experience. Over and over, he replayed the memory, but slightly differently each time, and you could feel it: the loneliness, the yearning. And suddenly, you were dying of thirst in a desert wasteland, freezing to death in a place without heat, a flame being smothered, Izuku, crying in his apartment, alone. You were him, and you were alone. And it was unbearable.
You knew that his heart wasn't specifically calling to you, but damn if it wasn't calling out to somebody, anybody. So you answered. You did what you could. Instead of a desert, you showed him an oasis. You gave him fire where he once was freezing, and oxygen where his flame had been dying out. He was no longer crying alone, just alone. Alone but content was the best you could do for the night. You remembered how he joked that he'd been dreaming about pumpkin, and how you had known it wasn't really a joke because you had sent him that vision. He had dreamt about that moment because you didn't want him to see the alternative. But you saw it, heard the rattled gasps of last breaths, felt the tears that had streamed from Izuku's eyes. Everything.
Eventually, your face returned to his eyes without your doing, and the jingling of the bell at the bakery returned, only to grow louder and louder until it pierced reality and you woke with a start. You breathed heavily as you found yourself in your own body, your own apartment, listening to your own alarm.
"Izuku," you whispered, furrowing your brow as you prayed desperately that you had done enough to let him rest, to bring him some semblance of peace.
——
The next day saw Izuku pleasantly surprised; he had dreamt again, and he had dreamt of you. His cheeks heated slightly at the thought, but he reasoned that he had little to no control over his unconscious mind. That was abundantly clear. Thankfully, after his second night of relative peace in a row, he felt relieved and reenergized.
Work went relatively smooth like always. He never really dreaded the paperwork like some of the other heroes at his agency, and often found himself easily absorbed in the filings. In fact, he probably took on more work than was necessary, but he liked to make sure everything was accurate on his end. Keeping track of accounts from patrols, civil disturbances, arrests, and policies wasn't exactly glamorous, but they were part of the job. Although most pros simply paid people to do it for them, Izuku could never justify making his colleagues do work that he wouldn't do himself. If they were his findings, he knew them best anyway. Why bother with a middle man?
By the time he was done with his stacks, it was about time to prepare for his shift on patrol. He stood from his desk and stretched, rolling out his neck and pulling his arms over and behind his head. He cracked his fingers one by one, trying to rid them of writing cramps. He thought he remembered someone telling him that popping his fingers would give him early arthritis, but it was a habit that was far too ingrained in him to give up now. Besides, hadn't that been disproven? Izuku yawned, getting up and moving was just what he needed.
A soft knock at his office door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he rasped, realizing how little he'd spoken that day; his voice sounded dry.
The door opened slightly, and his secretary poked her head through the slot, "Sorry to disturb you, sir–" she refused to call him by his name, despite how many times he insisted it was okay– "You are wanted in Conference Room B."
He thanked her, and she nodded appreciatively before ducking out of the room. Izuku gathered his things in his arms and locked his desk.
"Conference," He wondered aloud. "Got it."
Surprise conferences were never a good thing. Usually, they were a way for Dynamight to announce or transfer cases that required assistance without expending the time or effort of going through the proper channels. Dynamight doesn't make appointments. However, such cases were rare, so for one to arise would be cause for concern.
When Izuku entered the conference room, his suspicions seemed to be correct, as there stood Dynamight at the head of the table. Beside him was Shouto, which caused a surge of even more anxiety to rush through him. What could be so bad that three agencies were necessary?
He cleared his throat to get their attention, and Shouto turned to greet him, "Ah, Deku. Thank you for taking the time."
"Well," Izuku began, and approached the man to shake his hand, "when you come to me, how could I refuse? Making it too easy on me."
Shouto smiled softly, "I do wish that was the case. Please, if both of you would sit."
Izuku sat immediately, intrigued by what could have called them all together. Dynamight huffed at the order but abided anyway, taking his seat beside him.
Shouto began to speak, "Again, Midoriya, my apologies about circumventing your regular appointment policies, but we have an ongoing case that seems too urgent to waste any time on formalities." He bowed apologetically before straightening to deliver the details.
"Yesterday, it came to my attention that a large network of criminals we have been keeping our eye on have begun to act in ways we didn't anticipate, and it seems that their reach extends far beyond where we thought they might be localized. I arranged to meet with you both specifically, because their activity now seems to be popping up in areas that are under your patrol," he explained, and Dynamight scoffed.
"You sayin' we're missing stuff?" he accused. "I don't know how you run the show over there, but we work hard as hell to monitor all the areas under our supervision," he bit, and Shouto nodded understandingly.
"I did not mean to cause offense, and I don't doubt the capability of your agencies," he clarified. "However, I wanted to bring this to your attention, because the activities of this network may have looked like stand-alone events, maybe even insignificant at first. We need your help to connect them. I would advise you to have your best case workers go over filings from the past couple of months to look for reports that meet the following criteria: armed robberies carried out by two people, threatening letters to news and television stations, and any attempted break-ins at power facilities. I will of course forward this information to pass on to your colleagues."
Izuku nodded, "Thank you for the heads up. What exactly do you think their end game might be? Those crimes seem unrelated."
Dynamight made a sound of agreement, so Shouto continued, "We can't be completely sure based on what we have now, but it seems they have been actively trying to accumulate wealth and power equipment. In our division, a company reported losing over one hundred solar panels. The threatening messages haven't been confirmed to be linked to this network, but always refer to themselves as a group and state that they are planning something that will 'solidify their rightful place in charge.'"
Dynamight stood, "Got it. This could have been an email. In fact, it will be an email. I will look for shit, pinky fuckin' promise," he barked.
"Let me finish," Shouto ordered, causing Dynamight to grumble as he returned to his seat. "This network sounds harmless, I understand, but the robberies in our area have been...particularly violent."
Izuku felt his eyes widen as Shouto elaborated, "They always send two people, in broad daylight, to lower populated areas with banks or businesses. They work quickly, too quickly for anyone to act. Someone is always hurt, or killed. We have had 3 fatal robberies that we can link to them in the past 2 months. They are dangerous, and this proves that they don't have any qualms about violence or murder. This means that they are capable and willing to do anything to accomplish their goals. They are expanding their reach, and growing in ranks. That, Dynamight, is why you should be worried. Expand your patrols, examine old reports, and try not to let the death toll rise any further, if you would be so kind."
"Christ," Dynamight said, "maybe lead with that next time."
Shouto nodded, "We are taking this very seriously. What we need from you is surveillance of the areas we can't cover, but we also wanted to offer you the warning that more violence is possible and very likely."
Izuku's features hardened in determination as he stood, "We will be on the lookout. I'll let you know if we find anything in our paperwork, but for now, I will personally see to it that our patrols are extended," he assured. Turning to Dynamight, he spoke again, "It may be a good idea to overlap."
Dynamight followed him in standing and agreed to push into each other's domains. He headed out quickly after, citing "Shit to do."
As Izuku showed Shouto to the exit, the hero turned to him and spoke graciously, "On behalf of myself and my colleagues, thank you. We truly appreciate the help."
Offering a smile, Izuku responded, "No thanks necessary. If you would fax over any reports that you've confirmed to be linked to this network, we will start comparing immediately."
Shouto nodded with a short, "Of course," before heading out of the agency.
For the duration of his patrol, Izuku had to hide the twinge of disappointment he felt that his shifts would now be extended. Obviously, he wanted to do everything in his power to protect the people in his city, but expanding patrol meant more hours and more distance. Longer days. He had to push the thought from his mind, trying to focus on the onslaught of tasks at hand.
A frantic woman at the park couldn't find her son, who Izuku almost immediately discovered hiding in the swirly slide. He helped not one, but two elderly women cross the street, and had to wipe the lipstick off his face after they expressed gratitude with deep magenta kisses to his freckled cheeks.
"What a handsome young man," one had said, for which he thanked her kindly.
"If I were a couple decades younger..." winked the other, and Izuku had to hide his embarrassment at her implication.
After that, he settled a dispute in a coffee shop that had arisen over the last blueberry muffin, and somehow, he ended up with the muffin. Once everything was handled there, he ate his newly received baked treat as he continued down the road. When he came to the lemonade stand of a small girl and her mother, he gave them a hefty tip and exaggerated the deliciousness of the drink as he sipped it before them. It was mostly just water, but he wanted to build the girl's confidence. She beamed up at him, excited to see a hero in real life. He parted from her and her mom with a couple of lines about hard work, and a compliment to the child's go-getting attitude.
The rest of patrol was more of the same. There were some small disturbances, animal rescue missions, and a few heartfelt moments with his younger crowd of fans. Izuku always liked to see them. They all looked so happy, and he longed for the days when his smile was full of that same spark, when unadulterated joy spread across his heart and face without remorse. He missed when excitement could bloom in his heart without a second thought, without guilt, without the sinking feeling like the other shoe was about to drop.
Shouto's case was at the forefront of his mind as he walked his route, and he tried to be extra vigilant. The hardest part of dealing with criminals on a daily basis is understanding the reality that they are people too. It's a burden to acknowledge that at times. It makes it harder to know what to look for, and it hurt his soul to realize just how often he had to make snap judgments about people he didn't even know. He knew it was for the safety of his city, but it meant that he was constantly on edge.
It was like he'd forgotten how to breathe normally. Breathing used to be so easy; he couldn't even remember when that changed, when he started filling his days too full to afford himself a breath. He had started to use up all the oxygen in any room for other things, anything other than himself, and his flame started to die because he stopped feeding it. It was like he was constantly wandering aimlessly through a desert wasteland, with his lips cracking and his throat cracking more. At other times, he felt like he was freezing to death, and no amount of responsibilities, achievements, or successes could help to warm the chill in his bones. Even his deepest breaths came out shaky; they tasted like sulfur.
He wondered if other people struggled to breathe the way he did. Maybe they tasted copper, their mouths filling with blood the way his filled with words. How many people are choking something down? How many flames have died out? He couldn't tell. Therein lies the problem: you never know what someone is experiencing. He could never know for sure when someone was on the verge of snapping or at the brink of having their desperation slip into something darker, more sinister. He could only react.
By the time Izuku had made his usual loop–widened a bit to account for the alarming conversation he'd had with Shouto–he was absolutely drained. He arrived back at the agency and changed from his uniform as quickly as he could, opting to shower at home instead of at work. His social battery was spent, and he just wanted to retreat into the comfort of solitude. As he packed up for the night, he noted the new piles of reports on his desk for him to go over first thing the next morning. If they were the ones relating to Shouto's case, he would need as much rest as possible in order to view them with fresh eyes.
The sun had already set when he finally returned to his apartment building, and he raced up the stairs to get to his door, only adding to the sweat accumulating on his body from his long day. He was surprised to find you there as well, unlocking your door just as he approached his.
"Long day?" You asked, looking him up and down.
Izuku was sure he couldn't look good, standing there drenched in sweat, in his disheveled suit. He hadn't even taken the time to readjust his tie, instead throwing it loosely over his head and letting it dangle around his neck. Great.
"Could ask the same to you," he retorted, and you smiled and nodded in surrender.
"Worked a double," you explained, "and sleep hasn't been coming to me as easily lately."
Ah, so that's why he could sense your exhaustion at times. You wore the tired well, at least. Much better than him, he couldn't help but think. You had some kind of glow about you that transcended the need for sleep. It felt contagious.
"You and me both," he joked, opening his door in time with you.
Izuku bid you a goodnight and watched as you slinked inside your apartment. As he entered his own, he made a silent wish that your night would go better, wondering if you would do the same for him.
Once inside, he made a beeline for the bathroom, ready to rinse off all evidence of the day's efforts. He started the shower, willing it to heat up quickly as he peeled his clothes from his skin and tossed them into the hamper. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and frowned as he got lost in thought. His hair was ruffled in his haste to disrobe, but keeping his hair in place was a struggle he'd long given up on.
Izuku moved closer to the mirror to examine his face, tilting his head back and forth to see if the bags under his eyes were really there. As he got closer in proximity to the glass, a puff of his breath fogged his reflection. He pulled back, trying out a smile. It wasn't right. It was...uncanny. Too tired to be real, it was a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He stood up straight as he took in his nude form, lifting his chest and broadening his shoulders, then immediately shrunk back down, letting his posture fall as it may. He felt small. No matter how big he grew, he just felt small.
"Where did I go?" he whispered, solemnly looking himself up and down until he could no longer bear to, then pulled back his shower curtain and hopped in.
It was hot by then, almost too hot as he scrubbed away all traces of his day. He liked his body wash; it smelled like a forest. Izuku made a mental note to go hiking again the next time he got the chance. It's one thing to walk around a big city, but spending time out in the wilderness was different. It was something he cherished, but didn't get to do often. Walking under trees doesn't feel as claustrophobic as walking under skyscrapers. Trees don't make you feel small the way skyscrapers do; even the biggest ones just make you wonder at their beauty rather than apologize for your lacking. Trees also smell a lot better.
Most of all, Izuku was tiring of the mechanical. He himself was starting to feel mechanical, like a do-good machine. Do good, and shrink. Disappear when you're not needed, but always arrive just in time when you are. Be perfect. Trees didn't need to be perfect. Why couldn't he be a tree instead?
He huffed a laugh at that, washing his hair as quickly as he could before turning off the shower and stepping out.
Izuku grabbed his towel from the rack, muttering, "Cold, cold, cold..." and patting himself dry as fast as he could. He realized he forgot to turn on the vent when he looked to his reflection and only saw the foggy residue of steam layered over the mirror. He took his hand and wiped it over the glass to create a space for his face to reflect, wondering if anything had changed. It hadn't. But he was still there; he hadn't shrunk any more.
When he finally got to bed, he tried to picture you again. Even after a long day of work, you had smelled vaguely of sweets. He supposed that was one perk of your job; he always left his smelling like butt. He snorted to himself, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried to slow his breathing. He felt the slow rising and falling of his chest as he laid on his back, imagining the growing and shrinking of his lungs inflating and returning to rest. Eventually, he fell asleep.
——
That night, you woke to a dream of Izuku breathing frantically. You felt your eyes widening, as they darted from place to place, realizing you were...nowhere. It was like a void...bright white nothingness. You could feel Izuku's fear like it was your own, because in that moment, it was.
You turned in a circle, eyes searching for anything. You realized he was looking for an explanation or a sign of some kind.
Then your lips parted, and you spoke with his voice, uttering a small and shaky, "Where did I go?"
Your breathing became even more erratic as you felt yourself take off running. There was no aim, no direction. How could there be? He was nowhere; he disappeared.
"I didn't want this," you felt yourself scream, and suddenly it was like the ground was pulled from beneath your feet.
You managed a tiny, shell-shocked gasp as you felt yourself start to fall. Above you, you saw his arms grabbing for anything to stop him from plummeting to whatever waited below. You couldn't bear to know what it would be, so you focused as hard as you could on saving Izuku from his nightmare.
Before his body could hit the ground, he slowed. He found himself delicately placed on a bed of grass. Above him was no longer nothingness, but the shade of a large tree, the sun barely peeking through its leaves. He laid there with his hand on his chest, feeling his own heart beat as he admired the beauty of his surroundings.
And then he heard your voice, a whisper on the wind, until you were suddenly beside him, "Long day?" You smiled, propped up on your elbow as you laid on your side next to him.
He rolled over to face you, "No...just right."
Through his eyes, you saw yourself smile and say, "I'm glad you're here."
And then you woke for real, bolting upright like you had really been falling. All of the anxiety that you had just experienced caught up with you all at once, and you hugged your knees to your chest as you cried.
——
Once again, you were the first thing on Izuku's mind as he woke. In fact, that would be the case for the next couple weeks, which he attributed to seeing you in person more and more.
He had been trying to frequent the bakery more often. At first, he could use his coworkers as an excuse, saying that he thought it might be nice to buy them breakfast. He would buy a couple dozen pastries to take to work, but eventually, people stopped taking them. Once you caught him coming home with an entire box full of leftovers, he could no longer use work as an excuse.
For a few days, he stopped by while he was on patrol, citing a need to secure the area. He made that up, but you didn't need to know that. After more and more days of beating around the bush–visits where you seemed genuinely happy to see him–he decided to drop the act. No more excuses. He had to accept that at the end of the day, he was there to see you. He just didn't have to say that out loud.
"I'm glad you're here..." he told you one day, blinking himself out of it after realizing what he had said, but you just laughed and continued to arrange cookies onto a tray. He liked your laugh a lot.
"Well, I work here..." you reminded him, and he chuckled nervously. "I'm glad you're here though too, I guess. I need your energy to rub off on me."
He laughed a long with you at that, "I've been sleeping better. You haven't?"
His smile faltered when you shook your head, "Bad dreams?" he guessed.
He noticed you go slightly stiff at his question, and hoped he hadn't brought up anything that would make you uncomfortable, but you quickly returned to your task.
You sighed, "You could say that."
"I used to get those a lot," he tried to sympathize. "I am actually surprised that I haven't been lately. Usually when I have a lot on my mind, that's the first way it affects me."
You looked up from the cookie display, brows knitting together as you made eye contact with him, "Do you?" you started, "Have a lot on your mind, I mean."
Izuku shifted on his feet, feeling awkward. He wasn't sure how much you actually wanted to know. He also didn't want to seem like someone who complains.
So he shrugged it off, "Kind of. A big case has been taking up a lot of space in my brain, lately."
You hummed, going back to your organizing as you spoke again, "Is it serious?" you asked, looking up at him again to wiggle your eyebrows.
He could tell you were trying to get rid of any tension, and he couldn't lie and say it wasn't working.
He smiled at that, "Nothing you gotta worry about."
You mumbled out a soft, "Well," as you set the newly filled cookie tray in its rightful place. "If it's worrying you, I worry."
He swallowed thickly at that, feeling it tugging at some long untouched emotion within him.
"You don't have to worry about me," he tried to assure you, but he sounded unconvincing even to himself. He cringed at the twinge of sadness in his voice, hoping you hadn't noticed.
You returned to your place in front of him, only a counter between the two of you as you spoke again, "I know I don't have to, but I'm going to."
Izuku felt his face warm at that, but even more-so, his heart. You were now fully engrossed in him as the two of you conversed, and he almost felt too seen. His lips turned down into a small frown at the thought of you fretting over him; he didn't want to burden you with his anxiety. Especially not after finding out you were dealing with your own bout of insomnia, which was a feeling and predicament he had become overwhelmingly familiar with.
"Well," he considered for a moment before decidedly informing you, "I won't let you."
You giggled at that, leaning over the counter as you gloated, "You can't stop me. It's already in motion."
He playfully rolled his eyes at you as you stuck your tongue out at him."You're a child," he teased.
"Hey, sometimes it feels good to be a child again," you argued. "Life moves too fast these days. I miss when the stakes weren't so high," you sighed, unaware of just how much your words rang true.
"Exactly!" He exclaimed, and you laughed at his enthusiasm as he sheepishly continued. "The stakes, I guess. I miss when they were small, like falling off a bike," he stammered, avoiding eye contact.
You stilled, mouth opening slightly before you decided against whatever you were going to say.
"Sorry," you shook your head, "I shouldn't complain to you. That's not right."
"No, it's okay," he tried to assure you. "We all just do the best we can, right?"
You nodded, thinking for a moment before saying, "And all we can do is all we can do."
Izuku pressed his lips together tightly before replying, unsure of how honest he could be in that moment, "I agree."
When he left, he felt like a liar. Sometimes all we can do isn't good enough. He knew that. It was a privilege not to know that, and he knew he couldn't fault you for your positive outlook, but he felt himself being launched right back into that spiteful place he had been trying to overcome. The feeling that had prodded at his brain until he landed in therapy.
That resentment was hard to uproot, and he knew he couldn't necessarily blame himself for it either. It was just difficult to come to terms with the fact that the very people he wanted to serve seemed to be worlds away from him in every regard. They would never understand; you wouldn't get it. He never wanted you to, though. He wanted to shield you from the truth that sometimes he fails, doesn't get to the scene in time, loses. The weight of knowing that was heavy, heavier than anything. It only added to the isolation he had sentenced himself to for so long.
Izuku wanted to be able to see things your way, but he couldn't. If he weren't a hero, someone else would have to be. He couldn't justify passing the load onto anyone else, so he would carry it until his knees buckled, adjust his stance, and then carry it again. And he'd do it forever, because he was good at it, even when it hurt. As unbearable as the responsibility often seemed, he found a strange comfort in knowing it was his. Nevertheless, the bitterness he'd worked through time and time again began to settle in his gut once more, a poison that his organs couldn't filter out. A sourness he felt too guilty to name. It weighed him down, made his brain feel too apparent in his head, his tongue heavy in his mouth, and his movements sluggish. He could feel the fabric of his costume on his skin, imagining it growing tighter and tighter until he couldn't breathe.
In this state, he walked back toward the agency while his head kept swimming. He was distracted, eyes down, brows knit in thought. He was too distracted. Distracted with the way his mouth felt dry, his hands felt shaky, his shoes suddenly felt too tight. The sun outside was too bright in his eyes, the normal city sounds around him felt loud, as if he could hear everyone's conversations despite wanting nothing but silence. Izuku was overwhelmed and overstimulated as he blinked harshly, trying to get a grip on himself.
He stopped in his tracks, pushed his palms to his eye sockets, and pressed hard in circular motions in an attempt to rub out the discomfort. He wished he could scratch his brain, anything to get the feeling to dull. Everything felt too tight, too loud, too fast.
"Grey street," he mumbled, eyes shut tight. "Yellow lines...fuck," he gasped for a breath, "green grass...over there..." he trailed off.
The smallness was creeping back in. The out of body, the fear, the disappearing. He needed to slow down. And that's when the first scream broke out.
His eyes shot open, hair standing on end as his head whirled towards the source. Izuku, feeling both completely out of his mind and wholly responsible, felt his feet moving on instinct. And he rushed in, scared and unsure like he had been that very first time. Before training, before a quirk, before anything, and he felt that same itch like he had no idea what he was getting himself into. The panic of not knowing if he would help, make it worse, or die. For the first time in a long while, he felt unprepared.
More screams pierced the air, and Izuku followed the sound until he made it to a small convenience store down the road. From there it was a blur. He saw a body laying behind one of the aisles, only the legs visible. He didn't know if they were alive.
He felt himself yelling for everyone to get out, shaking with fear and with rage. A rage he hadn't let himself have access to in years. A rage that served no purpose and did him no good.
He didn't see the gunman until he felt the whizzing of a bullet pass next to his shoulder, his head turning in time to see it land in the stomach of the man working the till. They locked eyes, and he felt his own widen in shock as the man stared back with confusion and fear, clutching his stomach. Tears of frustration, of guilt, and of hatred began to pool all at once as Izuku saw the man finally collapse behind the counter.
His body moved faster than his brain, tackling the perpetrator to the ground with such a force that he felt ribs cracking underneath his weight. He couldn't make himself care.
Baring his teeth, at once angry and bewildered, he roared, "Why would you do that?"
And Izuku felt the hate pulsing through his veins, vision going red when the shooter just smirked at him and said, "Because I could."
——
The next time you saw Izuku Midoriya was on the news. You were at work, wiping down the counter when your eyes landed on the little television in the corner of the shop, ears perking up once you heard his name. When you realized the circumstance, your eyes widened, a hand coming up to your mouth in shock and heartache. You watched as others in the bakery had the same reaction, all eyes locked on the screen.
There had been an attack not too far from where you were, and three people died, including the suspect. The police were currently searching for a second suspect, who was said to be seen conversing with the other just moments before the shooting started. He fled the scene, and by then Izuku had arrived too late, managing to evacuate most of the citizens in the area, but he was unable to stop the two civilian casualties. They were pronounced dead at the scene along with the shooter, which was a fact the reporter was a little too smug in stating.
There were few accounts of what happened, mainly coming from witness statements and one shaky video taken on a cell-phone that was deemed too graphic to share on live television. It began to circulate anyway. More and more, you saw Deku's name being dragged through the mud. Some people said he was too reckless, others said he should have done more. It was announced that he would take a temporary leave to process all that had happened, which only added fuel to the fire, resurrecting old rumors about the state of his mental health. So you worried. Of course you did.
When it finally came out that the attack had been a robbery gone wrong, connected to a series of activity from a growing crime network, you began to wonder if that was the case Izuku had been telling you about just moments before the incident. It made you worry even more, knowing he would blame himself, knowing the scene would replay in his mind at night like a horror film stuck on repeat. And then, guilty as it made you, you feared for yourself. As you walked home that evening you wondered: what would you see?
When you made it back to your apartment, you were surprised to see the hulking figure of Dynamight, hunched over and banging on Izuku's front door. You recognized him from the few television interviews you had seen, not that there were many to begin with.
"It's our fault too," you heard him arguing, "so you better not do this shit again."
You froze when he turned to find you staring, his gruff voice snarling at you to "Move along."
"Sorry," you stammered, "I live next door."
He just huffed as you slid past him, putting your key into your lock and twisting. Before you turned the knob, you steeled your nerves and quietly asked, "He's okay, right?"
Dynamight just looked you up and down with an unreadable expression, turning away from Izuku's door and leaving without giving you an answer. You just nodded to yourself, taking his non-answer as a bad sign.
At least he was home, you told yourself. He needed a break. Not just because of the incident, either. If his dreams were anything to go by, Izuku had been dealing with a lot of pain behind the scenes. It felt invasive to be doing what you did each night, but you couldn't justify letting him suffer. He did that enough every day; that was even more evident now. He didn't need the added trauma of reliving it all each night.
It started small. You told yourself you were only doing it because his dreams were too loud, keeping you awake. It was for your sake, not his, the small changes to his dreamscape. Changes that would keep him asleep longer, quiet the thundering terror and debilitating sadness that kept him from rest. It was because you had to if you wanted any rest for yourself. Until it wasn't.
You didn't know who he was at first, completely unaware that you were moving in next door to a hero when you took over the lease. You never saw him, assuming that whoever lived next to you just had a schedule that didn't align with your own. When you took a job at the new bakery down the road, you started to see him more, but didn't officially meet until you spoke to him that day–on a whim.
You weren't sure why you did it, but supposed you just wanted to put a face and name to all the dreams you had been seeing. You assumed he was some kind of first responder, maybe a hero, just based on the kinds of nightmares you had been privy to. Once you found out his actual identity, your thoughts started to linger on him more and more.
Every time you had seen Deku on the television, you thought he looked kind. Kind and humble. He looked like he didn't know how he ended up carrying such a burden, and would never admit that it was a burden in the first place. And people loved him. You had to admit, you weren't a hero fangirl by any means, usually too busy to keep up with them, but something about him made you want to keep up. You thought it was because his smile didn't reach his eyes, and you could guess why.
When you finally did meet, everything you thought about him was confirmed. He was kind and humble, but also more than that. The more dreams you were exposed to, the more you felt like you knew him. But it felt wrong. In fact, you knew it was wrong. You were invading his privacy, bearing witness to the worst his mind could possibly dredge up. But you couldn't stop. You wanted to see him smile for real. You wanted to see Izuku be okay.
So when you started to appear in his dreams without your doing, you were happy. You were happy to be noticed, happy you could be of help. And when he came around, you made it your mission to make him smile as much as you could. And that's what you would dream about. The way his eyes and nose would crinkle up when he laughed, the way he completely zoned out when he focused on something, and the way his eyes held more emotion than you thought any one person could hold. Even a second of eye contact with Izuku Midoriya was a gift; you could see entire worlds being built and torn apart within the greens of his irises. You could see adoration for life, for people, and while you were not presumptuous enough to think there would be any room for you, you prayed there was anyway.
But now, he was hurting. It radiated through the air in waves. The walls that separated you were thin; you could hear him flip mindlessly through TV channels, unable to settle on one. You heard when he turned on the shower, shutting your eyes tightly and trying to pretend you couldn't hear his agony mixing with the beating of the water. Trying to pretend you couldn't hear his sobs as they racked his ribcage.
And when he finally slept, you were faced with the unimaginable horror of his nightmares. You saw Izuku panicking, cursing himself. You saw people die. Worst of all, you saw him kill. You felt the rage for yourself, but worse than that was the guilt. And as you felt ribs cracking beneath you again and again, you heard the explosion of gunshots, Izuku's choked scream of disbelief, and the taunting echo of a voice whispering, "Because I could."
So you changed it. Over and over. Night after night. You changed it.
——
"You got shot?"
Izuku just nodded, head moving ever so slightly to glance at the bandage wrapped around his bicep.
"When I tackled him," he started. "Before..." he trailed off. "He got a shot off on me, I guess. I didn't realize until after. It's fine."
Izuku watched through his computer screen as his therapist shuffled in her seat. His mom had been refusing to talk to him until he visited his therapist, which he knew was probably for the best. Tough love. He couldn't force himself to leave his home though, so online session it was.
"Adrenaline, I'm sure..." she said, and he just shrugged, feeling apathetic.
Truth be told, he didn't really want to talk about it. He didn't want to talk at all. His days on leave were spent sleeping when possible, eating when he could. He just felt sick to his stomach.
"And I'm sure you know they didn't report on that fact. That you got hurt," she sighed.
He just shrugged again, "Never do. It doesn't matter what happens to me anyway. They're just gonna say I'm a waste of resources," he said bitterly.
"Well, you help to pay my bills, so I guess I'm not a fair judge of your uselessness," she joked, and he just gave her a playful glare. "But Izuku, I have to say, if you're not actively wanting to feel better right now, that's okay. Just tell me, because there are people who are. You can be bitter and mad if you want, and I wouldn't blame you, but as much as you hate to admit it sometimes, talking might help."
Izuku looked away from the screen, focusing on his hands as he fidgeted in his spot, knowing she was right.
"I talked to that girl a bit before it happened...my neighbor," he began, and his therapist looked on hopefully as if urging him to continue. "It helped until it didn't, I guess. I just forget that there are things people who aren't in the hero field will never be able to understand, or hear about. I freaked out after; I dwelled and felt like I was undoing all my progress," he explained, feeling tears of frustration building up again. He'd spent too long crying already, he wasn't sure how he had any tears left.
His therapist hummed before asking, "Sounds like a panic attack–probably triggered by some words or phrases that reminded you of the trauma and difficult thought processes you've dealt with in the past. It's been a while since you've last experienced something like this, hasn't it, and how do you know she won't understand?"
He stilled, eyebrows furrowing like it was the dumbest question ever, "I guess, but what do you mean? Of course she can't understand. She doesn't do this for a living. She wouldn't get the toll and the sacrifice and the anxiety," he asserted.
"Have you explained it to her?"
"I-" Izuku stammered, "well, I couldn't. That's not fair to her," he explained.
"Oh? Who decided that?" she urged, and he felt himself slowly starting to understand her point.
"I did," he sighed, putting his head in his hands.
"You did," she repeated, "and you did so because you're self sacrificing and anxious and understand the toll. But I'm also sure that you'd want her to tell you when something is on her mind."
"Of course," he affirmed.
"So you have to let it go both ways," his therapist elucidated. "Let her tell you if it's too much, and if you can't stand to hear about her struggles for a moment because they're hurting you or crossing your boundaries, you tell her that too. If she's your friend, and mature, she will understand."
"I just don't want to overwhelm her..." Izuku confessed quietly. "I don't want to be overwhelming."
"That's a valid fear, but one that will keep you lonely if you give it power for too long. Start small, when in doubt, just ask," his therapist encouraged. "Ask where she's at, if she's okay to listen to some potentially troubling things, if she has advice. Even if she doesn't understand the hero side of things, she knows what it is to be human."
Izuku knew she was right, and she hit the nail on the head. His problem was never that you didn't understand what it was to be a hero, rather that he had forgotten what it was like to allow himself to be human. Everything he had been feeling the past few days, and before that, were just human emotions. The anxiety, the perfectionism, the yearning; on some level, everyone could relate.
"So you're saying I should just go knock on her door and ask to talk?" he questioned, still unsure of where to start.
"Why not?" she shrugged. "The worst she will do is say no, or that she's busy. At the very least, it will get you out of your apartment for a few minutes."
And he couldn't argue with that. He exchanged a few more words with therapist before beginning to sign off.
"One more thing," she said quickly before he hung up, and Izuku nodded for her to continue. "Call your mother today, she keeps texting me."
With that, she hung up, and Izuku smiled, shaking his head. That was just like his mom to do, and he would definitely be chewing her out over it later. With love, of course. But first, he had to talk to you before he lost all of his courage. He was thankful he showered that morning.
Before he could think too long on it, he slammed his laptop closed, and quickly walked over his door. He threw it open more harshly than intended, then swung outside to face your door. He knocked loudly, leaving no room for himself to back out. He rocked back and forth on his feet with his hands on his pockets, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating as he waited for you to come to your door. Honestly, he wasn't even sure if you would be home, but froze when he heard shuffling from inside your apartment.
Then, your door was opening, just a crack. And you peered outside at him, only a portion of your face visible through the slit you had made. Your eyes were red, under-eyes swollen like you had been crying. More than that, you looked like you hadn't slept in days.
When you realized who it was at the door, he watched your eyes widen slightly, and you opened it all the way.
He held his breath as you spoke, confusion and exhaustion evident in your voice, "Izuku? Are you okay?"
You sounded so quiet, voice so frail and faraway, like your mind was somewhere else completely. He watched as you yawned and gestured for him to come inside. He shut the door behind him, noting how you swayed on your feet, slightly unstable. He felt his hands itching at the ready, waiting to catch you if you were to fall.
"I'm fine. Are you?" he asked genuinely, voice thick with concern as you yawned once more.
You nodded, your head bobbing up and down on your neck like it weighed a ton, only serving to make you more unstable on your feet. You stumbled forward, and he caught you by your forearms. He supported your weight as your head fell onto his chest.
"Tired," you said simply, words muffled by his shirt. "Was trying to help you."
Izuku felt slightly embarrassed by your sudden proximity, then pulled back to look at your face, "What do you mean?"
But you were asleep, head just falling limp now that it wasn't being supported by his body. Shit. Unsure what to do, Izuku just scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your couch. He laid you there as gently as he could, grabbing a blanket from nearby and laying it over your unconscious form.
"I'm gonna leave now," he whispered awkwardly, and you didn't respond–didn't even stir.
“Okay, be okay…” he whispered again, feeling like an idiot because he knew you were out. "Bye."
He returned to his apartment with more questions than answers. Safe to say, that did not go to plan. 'The worst she can do is say no or that she's busy' his ass. His therapist had evidently failed to consider the possibility that you might fall unconscious into his arms due to obvious sleep deprivation.
And what did you mean by 'trying to help' him? He hadn't even seen you since before the incident. That was days ago. He supposed he would just have to ask you whenever you eventually woke up. Whenever that might be.
He would have to find out later, because as soon as Izuku stepped into his kitchen, he realized that his place was in dire need of cleaning. Now that he had finally noticed, he knew he wouldn't be able to function in any other regard until his space was clear. He sighed, turning on the sink and getting work scrubbing the dishes that had accumulated there.
Izuku spent the rest of his day cleaning, hoping that an organized space would be a good influence on the state of his life. If all the dishes were in place, no laundry on the floor, maybe the jagged edges of his situation would come together in way that would afford him some peace. As much as he knew that it didn’t work like that, he couldn’t help but out hold some hope anyway. Hope for himself, hope for you.
And that was the truth of it. He had to keep himself busy or else his overthinking would drive him closer to the edge of insanity. He worried about you, and for you. Not that he was a doctor, but in his opinion, it looked as if you hadn’t slept in days. In fact, the last time he had seen you was the day of the incident. Could it be that you were losing sleep because of him? Had you really not slept since then?
Izuku’s nails were bitten to the point of bleeding at the thought of you suffering that much over his situation. And then made worse when he considered that he was the biggest asshole on the planet for assuming your troubles had anything to do with him. That he could be worthy of any of your attention, let alone attention at such a degree that it would be to your detriment.
You were like a flower that had taken root in his mind and spread to his heart. You’d blossomed into this shining fixture in his life that he hoped he could make permanent, hoped he could lean on for just a while longer, if not forever. He needed your blooming to rub off on him, the color you brought to your days and now his. You weren’t fragile; he would never say that, but God, if he didn’t want to cradle you like you were. To uproot you and plant you into his earth, his ground. All he ever did was uproot. He felt like a hail storm. You were wilting already from his ‘too much.’ Too heavy, too much rain, too much force, too much feeling. He didn’t want to destroy you. He couldn’t bear another loss. Should your smile fall, he would never forgive himself.
Izuku was finally freed from his thoughts by the sound of a knock at his door. He rushed over immediately, flinging it open with eyes wide, assuming you would be waiting there.
“Y/N—” He started, only to be disappointed when he was met with a very confused-looking delivery man holding an edible arrangement.
“Uh, no,” the man said, handing him the gift.
“Your friend Denki says ‘Happy birthday,’ but then he told me to say ‘I know it’s not your birthday, but the ‘feel better’ bouquets were more expensive’ and ‘It’s the thought that counts.’”
——
When you woke up, it was dark out. You sat up slowly, dazed and yawning, tired mind trying to put all the pieces together.
“Couch?” You wondered aloud, yawning again and moving your hands to rub the sleep out of your eyes.
The digital clock you kept in the kitchen blinked at you, signing ‘9:45pm.’ You had slept all day. That wasn’t the weirdest part though; you’d had the strangest dreams. For once, they were your own—not Izuku’s—but he was still there.
You vaguely recalled answering your door, falling into his arms, soft whispers back and forth to each other. He had looked concerned, which made you want to fix it. Fix, fix, fix; ever the fixer you were. You tried to tell him that someone was in his corner, that you were trying to help, but he only looked more confused.
But then, there was the issue of the couch, which is exactly where you landed in your dream. He carried you there, said something soft to you that you couldn’t hear and then presumably left.
You groaned, sleepy mind finally rearing to life with some embarrassment. “Not a dream,” you decided. “Real.”
You pulled your knees to your chest, curling up and weighing your options. You could go over and knock on his door, apologize for your odd behavior, and swear you are okay. You’re sure he would appreciate knowing that you hadn’t completely decayed yet. But then, the questions. He would ask questions, and you’re a terrible liar. You would sell yourself out immediately, and he would know all about what you had been up to every night. He would feel violated, betrayed; he might even hate you.
You sighed, holding up your left hand, “He deserves to know the truth. He is mature enough to know that I was only trying to help. He is kind and compassionate. I would want to know.”
Then, you held up your right hand, “What does the truth matter, anyway? He won’t find out if I don’t tell him, and it’s not like I am some creep trying to perv on him. He would do the same thing for me if the roles reversed. He would…invade my privacy…and—ugh!” You relented, throwing your hands up.
“He has to know,” you resolved.
You stood up quickly, ready to rush next door. You stumbled as you rose to your feet, grabbing at the couch when the sudden change made you dizzy.
“Tomorrow,” you decided. “Tomorrow is fine.”
But tomorrow never came. You had called in sick to work already, so that wasn’t an issue, but apparently Izuku didn’t get the memo. When you had gone to knock on his door, you got no answer, and when you flicked on your television, you figured out why.
There was live coverage of him going back to work. You saw Izuku—Deku, really—walking into his agency, his head down. He looked determined, despite all of the hustle and bustle of cameras flashing and questions being thrown every which way. Salacious and mean spirited questions that felt more like traps intermixed with random gossip. He said, she said; Izuku paid them no mind. Once he passed through the doors, the cameras lost sight of him, and you watched as the disappointed reporter gave her two cents, sounding bitter.
“With Deku back to work after seemingly no repercussions for the tragedy that occurred just days ago, people are once again wondering what these heroes really stand for. Remember people: we pay them! And what do we get? Not justice,” she said, “not this time.”
You shook your head, about to change the channel, unable to stand whatever bullshit she was spewing. No justice? He was ready to lay down his life for justice. That reporter wouldn’t know justice if it bit her on the ass, like you knew karma would soon.
"The other suspect involved in the recent and violent robbery-gone-wrong is still at large, so if you or anyone you know has information, please, do not hesitate to call in. It's time we step up and be heroes, since the ones we pay aren't cutting it–"
You made a sound of disgust as you slammed the off button on your remote, refusing to sit and listen to anymore. You couldn't understand how someone could be so far from having a clue. It almost hurt. You knew it would hurt Izuku to hear people talk like that. Deku could handle it for the cameras, but Izuku...it would cut deep. You needed to see him, and soon.
However, as much as you wanted to be the one to comfort him, you knew that letting him in on your secret was going to do the opposite. That didn't make the truth any less necessary, though. You really needed to see him.
#anime#my hero academia#mha#izuku midoriya#deku#mha deku#izuku angst#mha fic#bnha#bnha fic#izuku x reader#deku x reader#pro hero au#pro hero deku#my hero fanfic#farawaywrites
179 notes
·
View notes
Note
In the show Donnie has been canonically confirmed to be autistic I believe and Mikey with ADHD. Did those prove to affect how they were treated or raised in any way? And aside from flopping on people does Donnie still have a bit of a aversion to touch and people who are exceptions? Or does he ignore any uncomfortable feeling he has about anything because he's been through worse and if so how do the turtles help him unlearn these negitive things?
Did Mikey's ADHD ever get him in trouble with big momma and in the battle nexus? I would ask more but I don't want to overload-
Donnie is still autistic, and Draxum did try to “train out” the behavior he didn’t consider warrior-like (God he’s such an asshole in this—and I LIKE canon Draxum 🤣 but I really am making him worse than Shredder at this point). He waited to start the really heavy experiments until Three was older, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t punish him harshly when he “acted foolish”. Draxum would grab and pull Three all the time, either by the arm or he’d use his vines to restrain him where he wanted him. So most of Donnie’s touch aversion here comes from being reminded of that. I am personally of the opinion that Donnie isn’t as so much touch averse in canon—He’s seen constantly touching his family and April and though sometimes he may have a slight grimmace, you can see that he eases into the hug and even initiates a lot of them. I think his hangups are more texture based and that he doesn’t like being caught off guard, which are still present here, and unfortunately, Draxum uses against him in ways we’ll find out. But Donnie does appreciate that his brothers and Splinter give him the option of saying no. It gives him a sense of control over the situation and he finds accepting and initiating contact easy and comforting more often than not, unless it’s a real bad day.
Big Mama was very doting on Mikey, and spoiled him rotten. She got him the best tutors for his education, but Mikey drove almost all of them into quitting except for his martial arts, and art tutors. As a result Mikey has more of a classical art style, and Big Mama puts his paintings all over the lobby of her hotel. But Big Mama is fickle, and after so many years she grows bored enough with him, and sees how strong he’s gotten, that she can’t pass up the opportunity of dropping him into the Nexus. She still gives him treats for his wins, but it’s framed more like prizes to her champion than gifts for her child. Still, Mikey sees them as gifts for doing well, and imagines one day when he wins enough fights, she’ll let him out.
It isn’t until after he’s rescued that he reads up on art therapy, and tries to get back into art. Sadly he finds he doesn’t have the taste for it anymore which devastates him and causes a bout of intense depression…until April suggests that he try a whole new style, something his tutor never covered, and takes him on a tour of the city to see all the coolest street art. In days he’s got most of the lair covered in graffiti.
Mikey does have ADHD, in fact most of his scars come from times where he got distracted in the ring. At night in the barracks he tries to pull from happy memories and beneath the good times spent with Big Mama there’s something else he can’t quite grab hold of, but it comforts him enough for him to keep fighting. On the other hand, Leo remembers almost nothing from Shredder warping his memories so much.
Lastly, Shredder was a harsh taskmaster, very manipulative and told Leo lie after lie to get him to hate Splinter. Leo trained from before sunrise to after sunset, and didn’t talk to many people outside of Shredder’s inner circle of commanders. He was taught a wide range of studies, including war strategy, weaponry, and languages. Shredder was never really…cruel, without reason like Draxum, but if he ever felt Leo was lacking in training or not following his commands to the letter, he would show no mercy. Leo is treated with a lot of respect from most of the foot recruits. Of course some of the older commanders (🤐) aren’t too happy when a literal child is given such a high position of power, but they would never argue with the Shredder.
If you have any more questions please check out the Separated AU tag and my pinned post! I might’ve already answered it!
@lockoutkey @nyxthedragon225, @froggiethelesbian
#separated au#ask slushie#rottmnt separated au#that’s pretty much all I’ll say at the moment on their childhoods as i have plans to expand on them further#hopefully that’s enough to tide everyone over until i can get pages out
543 notes
·
View notes
Note
You've got drawing ideas cage fighting (fking love this new AU 😍🤩) and I'm sick and drowning in sick!Johnshi ideas so let me kick them out of my brain please.
So I get the feeling that both Kenshi and Johnny are horrible when they are sick bc they simply. Won't. Let themselves. Get taken care off. The bases are surprisingly similar and yet different.
Kenshi grew up with the idea that showing any sort of weakness is a no-no if you want to survive his (previous) world. So he will do whatever it takes to power through whatever nasty virus has taken over his body. Then this gets aggravated when he is freeing the Taira bc now it has become a "I can't rest yet" type of problem (cue to him collapsing more than once in the past). And there is also a bit of him not believing that he deserves the gentleness and love that is someone taking care of himself.
Johnny hides behind a shiny and loud wall of "THE Johnny Cage cannot get sick. I'm too good for that". But all this façade hides is his fear of his public persona cracking and him falling behind. He *needs* to get this shoot done, this premiere attended, this interview published bc otherwise people will forget him (feeling that was appeared when he started making a career of himself and then got worse pre MK1 events). There is also the fear of being considered a burden (something that his shitty father drilled into his brain and that sadly his mother couldn't fight since she was always so busy trying to raise her 2 sons and drag her useless husband).
And for the both of them there might also be something about not wanting others to pity them?
At the beginning of their relationship this whole thing becomes a bit of a friction point but after a couple of times they realize that letting themselves to be taken care of when sick is not shameful, doesn't make them weak or a burden and that they actually deserve that care and gentleness.
I'm sorry for taking so long to answer your submission bc i have been mulling about what more i can add.
You're SO RIGHT about everything.
Kenshi is a very duty bound person. The Kenshi who's seeking redemption serves people, his family and loved ones, and everything comes before his own needs and wants. Of course, he doesn't let himself rest when he's sick bc it is just trivial thing, a distraction. The way Kenshi just gives up when he loses his sight tells a lot about how he sees his worth bc if he can't fight to save his clan, then he's nothing. Furthermore, he feels that he's underserving of good things bc guilt™️ of his yakuza past.
On the other hand, Johnny is all about proving himself capable. In the entertainment industry, you must be always on you top shape, gotta give 110% all the time, or people will replace you with a blink of an eye. He doesn't do well when people point out his shortcomings, so he mask them and it is probably where his arrogant attitude roots from bc fake it till you make it right?
Johnny and Kenshi are both hypocrites because they want to take care of each other while not doing the same for themselves. Loving someone's uglies is easy when you truly love the person but letting yourself be loved? Being weak and vulnerable with the other? It is hard to unlearn all the ways that helped them survive the world but what's love if you if you can't be your true self.
#thank you for the submission!#johnshi#mortal kombat#leswell writes#kenshi takahashi#johnny cage#mk1#mk1 2023#mortal kombat 2023#johnny x kenshi
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
You know, I'm pretty sure than due to knowing Lilith is Adam's female counterpart and how her own view of the reliability of a mom was shattered, Vaggie once insulted Lilith when Charlie exprimed angst about her mom being gone for years.
Also, I wouldn't be surprised if during the first week's-months of Angel Dust living in the Hotel in this AU, Vaggie used very foul derogatory language to talk of him by reflex whenever he angered her, to his face or when talking of him to Charlie, because while she was merciful of a child, I doubt she has any consideration for the adults sinners, and Lute's toxic influence rear its ugly head when she's pissed.
Vaggie does try to be supportive of Charlie during those time, and usually keeps quiet when they're together, but she does curse Lilith in private whenever Charlie lets it slip that she is hurt by the fact that her mom seems to have just vanished without a word, no matter how much Charlie tries to get a hold of her. Because even if obviously what Lilith is doing to Charlie isn't exactly like what Lute did to her, Vaggie still would compare the two and feel super angry on Charlie's behalf.
Oh, I definitely feel like during Angel's earliest weeks in the Hotel, Vaggie did at least a couple times slip into saying some pretty unkind things to and/or about him. She has been improving in regards to trying to see Sinners as people who can be redeemed if they want to - though a lot of that is less her actually believing that and more her just wanting to believe in Charlie, at least at first - but it's hard to completely unlearn two centuries worth of how she was raised, and she was raised to see Sinners as just horrible people who can't be helped.
And before he actually started taking the idea of the Hotel seriously, Angel would honestly likely often make Vaggie feel like her mother had been right about that. Because despite the fact that he was supposed to be trying to redeem himself as the whole point of staying at the Hotel, he didn't even try to improve his attitude, never mind his behaviors. Like, I definitely headcanon that even after learning her name was Vaggie with hard G's, he intentionally pronounced it with soft G's just because he saw how much it annoyed her, and even went further by calling her "Vagina" sometimes, like we saw in the show.
That being said, I don't think she ever said anything like, homophobic or anything, but I could see Angels and especially the Exorcists having their own unflattering terms for Sinners and when Angel really pushed her too far, Vaggie did slip into those terms, sometimes in Spanish, sometimes in English. But, of course, Angel was usually just confused because he had no idea of Vaggie's actual past and so he didn't really register that what she was saying was meant to be an insult.
#Hazbin Hotel#Vaggie#Charlie Morningstar#Lilith Morningstar#Angel Dust#Hazbin Vaggie#Hazbin Angel Dust#Vaggie is a Guitarspear Baby AU#Cradle Will Fall
51 notes
·
View notes
Note
literally so happy to hear you have wide open asks.... I LOVE the idea you brought up about Steve gaining weight just kinda slowly and steadily because he loves to eat and is tired of denying himself....... and how might Eddie respond to this newly relaxed and bigger Steve?
Hi, hello! Yeah, Steve needs a break, man. Those regularly unscheduled beatings take a toll, he’s just tired. I read something once that referred to him gaining weight after the Upside Down stuff is done for good as his “peace body” and that lives in my brain rent free.
I hope this answers your question because I kind of got carried away:
Eddie loves relaxed Steve, especially as he unlearns some of his own “jacks bad nerds good” and “popular bad outcast good” dichotomies that he’s built up as part of his armor over the years. Steve, he realizes, is not just a good dude, but a chill dude too.
Sure, he’s a little fussy about his hair, and sometimes his clothes—complains a little when his polos start not quite fitting the way they used to, although Eddie personally can’t see any problem with that. Steve is just hot, okay? He was hot in gym class in those little green shorts, in basketball games in those little white shorts, and he’s just as hot (if not even prettier) lounging back with a joint in one hand, a soda in the other, and a little sliver of belly peeking out the bottom of his shirt. Because he’s happier now. Cozy. Eddie takes any opportunity he can get to lay his head on Steve’s lap because he has just the best thighs.
Meanwhile, Steve—who’s only fussing because he’s had a thing for Eddie ever since “dontcha, big boy” launched him into a sexuality crisis last March, and he’s used to getting dates because he looks good, so he wants to look good—just sort of melts any time Eddie leans or lays on him. This has occasionally made him late for work or picking up Robin or the kids, but more often it just means that he asks “Can you get me…” a lot. Which is difficult for him to do! Because he’s used to the idea that he can take care of himself, and he can take care of other people, but why should other people have to take care of him? But he can and has sat still for hours if it means that Eddie gets in a decent nap, or is enjoying the movie that’s on, or whatever. If he has to go to the bathroom, he’ll hold it. Robin teases him that her dad is the same way about the family cat… which kind of indirectly leads to Steve learning that Eddie loves head scritches. (He totally white lies to her and says that Eddie asked him to do that, but actually he did it one time without thinking and Eddie asked him in a slightly hoarse voice to do that again. And then got up shortly afterwards to go to the bathroom, allowing Steve to stretch his legs and take a bathroom break of his own.)
And it’s only a matter of time, what with the gradually waning nightmares as it finally sinks in that the danger is over, the not being on alert all the time, the fact that Steve is no longer a teenager or on any sports teams, the recreational smoking, the metalhead lapcat… Only a matter of time before Eddie settles into place and feels where Steve’s tummy is starting to encroach on his spot.
It’s after a small party (just the older UD crew) when everyone else but Robin has already gone home, and he’s just high and sleepy and a little tipsy enough to roll over and snuggle in without thinking about it, nuzzling that sliver of tan skin and chest hair and just breathing Steve in with a happy sigh. His body feels floaty enough that he vaguely thinks that Steve must have carried him upstairs to his bedroom, and this is Steve’s pillow or something.
Steve is frozen in place, eyes absolutely huge, staring across the living room to where Robin is watching this happen from the kitchen doorway with an amused smirk on her face. When Eddie brings his hand up to hug the “pillow” closer, Steve mouths “Help me” at her.
She shrugs and spreads her hands like, “What do you want me to do?”
He tries to use eyebrow movements and hand gestures to remind her that of the three of them she’s smoked and drank the least, so she should have the functioning brain cell right now, not him. Because he’s pretty crossfaded too, and fairly full after getting the munchies and going to town on the pizza they’d ordered for the party, and now there’s a cute dude cuddling his belly and it feels good and he’s going to have a reaction soon—
“I don’t need to know about that,” Robin shout-whispers vehemently, and backs into the kitchen mouthing “la-la-la-lesbian” and “I can’t hear you.” Steve vows to write her out of his will. Not that he has one, but still.
Eddie rouses a moment later because his brain is starting to catch up to the fact that it’s not fabric he’s drooling on here. When he half sits up he’s face to face with a very flustered Steve, who is chewing on his plush bottom lip and Eddie wants to, like, help him with that. And then he looks down, and probably part of what woke him up, and his nuzzling has pushed Steve’s shirt up a little more than usual, and slo yep, that’s a boner.
They make eye contact.
“Can I kiss you?” Eddie blurts out, because he definitely wants to and he thinks, based on the boner and the fact that Steve hasn’t shoved him away yet, that maybe Steve does too.
“You’d better,” Steve blurts back, cheeks flaming, because he already has Eddie’s spit drying on his skin. He’s totally flustered and doesn’t even have time to run a hand through his hair before Eddie is straddling his lap, cradling his face gently in both hands, and drawing him into a clumsy but earnest kiss.
They spend the rest of the night kissing and cuddling and talking on the couch, still a little giggly from their highs and Eddie snagging more things for Steve to eat whenever Steve seems even the tiniest bit hungry, because he just looks so happy whenever he’s relaxed and enjoying his food. And if he sneaks some belly rubs in there too, no one else has to know.
Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie
30 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ngl seeing the candy people being slain by fionna and cake was scarier to me than what happened to winter king in the end
that was really fucked up but you know what it oddly reminded of me of? remember that early episode of the show where finn wanted to get his way no matter what and hurt a lot of people to get there? that somehow came to mind...
i think fionna actually makes a lot of sense as a version of finn who never went through the arcs he did. and now shes being forced into the crazy shit without even getting to deal w the lighthearted early season stuff first (not that there wasnt some wild shit in there too tho lol). shes starting at level 10 and has to speedrun the character development he had. and you might think "well it should be easier because shes an adult, back then finn was 12" but thats actually why its harder. finn was learning, but fionna also has to unlearn.
i really do see her arc being about becoming less selfish. and thats how she can reclaim the hero she used to be. because its really not just about slaying evil monsters. im sure early season finn would have done some similar bullshit honestly, but we see how introspective he is in later seasons about fighting and conflict (the whole gum war thing esp put a light on that). because its not just about killing bad guys and living out a fantasy, its about saving people. i think fionna will have to learn that and i'm really excited to see her do it. even if it doesnt mean getting a perfect escapist fantasy.
#adventure time#also the way it was overlapped w gumball's dialog about the little candy characters he made i think makes it hit harder#bc it emphasizes that 1. these are the characters you know and love 2. every version of pb loves these candy people so much#i really felt bad for her at the end when she asked where her beloved subjects are.... like give her a break after all that
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
we learn so little details about benoit blanc's history or personal life that that little moment in knives out 1 fascinates me... let's look at it.
marta: did you know harlan?
blanc: he knew my father who was a police detective. years ago. my father respected harlan. that says quite a lot.
1. we learn that blanc's father was a police detective years ago, which means that
2. blanc is partially following in his father's footsteps, becoming a detective of sorts himself
3. blanc's father respected harlan and "that says quite a lot"- which i take to mean, it was respect not easily earned. blanc sr. gave his respect to people he deemed good enough, worthy enough.
now i'm just thinking and extrapolating, but from this wording and tone, i gather that blanc's father is dead. and i wonder if we'll find out in future movies whether that's true, and if blanc's father lived to see blanc become a famous private investigator, was he proud of him? did he respect his son? (unrelated but kind of related: did he know his son is gay?)
it's also a fascinating moment, in a movie partially about a family's relationship to a father figure, to have blanc briefly mention following in his father's footsteps. in baiting linda to talk about how she truly feels about the other members of the family, blanc says:
"...as a self-made man myself i have to express my admiration for how you've followed in your father's footsteps. ...just marvelous. the whole family too. joni with her things, walt with his publishing empire."
this movie has a subtle nod to legacy. what do we want to leave behind? who do we want our children to become? how will we care for future generations? harlan cuts his family off to force them to become "self-made" and self-sufficient. then there is blanc: if we take him at his word (and don't presume he's lying to bait joni), he is a self-made man.
we can only guess at how he feels about his father and his original motivations for his career choice, but it makes sense that blanc would want to become an investigator because of his father. it makes me wonder- did he try to be a police detective first or did he go a different way from the start? (i personally get from the "self-made" vibe that he's always been a private investigator, but that's just imo.) what guided his ethos in choosing clients, honoring his father or unlearning his father's worldview?
there's no real end to this post i'm just fascinated by benoit blanc as a character, partially because we know so little about his personal life. he's a man of mystery, he's gay, he's either a daddy's boy or has daddy issues, he's a fashion icon, he's a feminist, and he's my best friend ❤️
#benoit blanc#knives out#mine#benoit blanc my best friend benoit blanc#i downloaded the script to my phone for this so pls rb 🔪
196 notes
·
View notes
Text
BB!Gray Wing (Outdated)
EDIT: I've decided to kill Gray Wing a lot earlier. This information is outdated as most of xeir roles are going to be taken by Bright Storm.
This is still here for posterity's sake, but eventually I hope to put up links to new summaries for Bright Storm as Thunder Storm's wise old guide who must unlearn abuse apologia, and Gray Wing the Wise as a Patron of Wisdom and the only cat to die on the Sun Trail Journey, never reaching the Forest.
[ID: The Better Bones version of mortal Gray Wing. They are a dark gray cat with a lighter gray "hood" of fur, wing-shaped tufts, and a shoulder burl. Their ears flop and there is a dark circle under their eye.]
In BB!DOTC, Clear Sky is a villain. From start to end-- his development is only towards being slightly less bad, but always a threat.
And Gray Wing loved him. For a long time, when they closed their eyes, they were seeing their pure-gray brother contrasted against the snow of the mountains, dragging a hawk home, his smile confident but still kind. They couldn't believe the idea that Clear Sky had changed so much that the memory was no longer accurate, much less accept the painful thought that perhaps, that kindness was never there at all.
It is a painful lesson to take, that forgiveness is not always a virtue. That humility in excess is a sin stronger than pride. Love can be a powerful, blinding poison.
They must reckon with the fact that their enabling behavior caused many of the people they love to be hurt. They downplayed Clear Sky's escalating violence. They encouraged their son Thunder Storm to live with him. They stood by as Turtle Heart's mate was exiled after her death.
For this, Gray Wing dedicates themself to early ThunderClan. Their plans are pivotal in its early success, becoming Thunder Storm's grand advisor. After their death, Gray Wing is remembered as a Patron of Parentage, Wisdom, and sometimes even used as an example of overcoming blood loyalty to serve one's Clan.
In BB, Gray Wing is gib gender. They go by They/Xe/He!
Alignment: Proto-ThunderClan
Family: Wing & Sky
Time Period: Dawn Era
Relationships:
Parents - Thunder Sky (biofather), Quiet Wing, Stone Peak (stepfather)
Siblings - Clear Sky, Fluttering Wing, Jagged Peak
Co-parents - Bright Storm, Turtle Heart, Bumble
Children - Thunder Storm, Owl Eyes, Sparrow Heart
More under the cut!
The Story
The Trivia
The Story
When Jagged Peak broke his leg, Clear Sky cast him out of the early Clan group. Bright Storm and Gray Wing tried to keep him alive, but failed.
Xey watched him die, withered away just like Fluttering Wing. Gray Wing has lost so much family-- a father, a sister, and now a brother. And they will never see their mother again.
They never want to lose another member of their family.
Gray Wing is unambiguously considered the parent of Thunder Storm... or, they would be.
Bright Storm passed away when Thunder Storm was about 4 moons old, as Sky's Clan grew more and more hostile towards Shadow's Clan.
Gray Wing desperately tried to bargain for peace, foolishly believing that if Shadow's Clan gave Clear Sky what he wanted, he would leave them alone
No one can change that much, they believed. There was goodness deep within him, he just needed to realize it.
And he didn't want Thunder Storm to grow up in a violent world... and certainly not in a world where his 'true' father was the villain.
But Thunder Storm never would have known Clear Sky if it hadn't been for Gray Wing's worry. He certainly didn't see him as a 'father.' The young cat picked up on what xey believed.
And when Clear Sky and his cats took refuge after the fire, he realized was wrong about his son. He was useful, after all.
Gray Wing believed they were doing the right thing, encouraging Thunder Storm's curiosity, telling him he'd still love him no matter what he chose. That there was something to learn from Clear Sky.
After all, he is a powerful leader, and his father like how Bright Storm was his mother.
Time and distance was sanding down Clear Sky in his memory. The cats of Shadow's Clan had split in the face of his blasphemy, but many deeply admired Clear Sky's way of ruling.
His group was powerful, their kittens growing fat on the forest's bounty while they had to become very crafty while living in the mucky part of the woods.
And perhaps it was wrong to throw out a cat with three legs, seeing as how Thunder Storm had grown into a decent hunter...
But Turtle Heart's mate had never been able to learn how to hunt. Bumble could barely climb a tree, and her fumbling claws couldn't even catch a fish.
When Turtle Heart died retrieving her kittens, Tall Shadow announced that Bumble would need to catch her fair share, or be cast out. She did not share their blood or their beliefs, and with Turtle Heart dead, they wouldn't have enough skilled hunters to feed her and the children Turtle left behind.
Shocked, some cats turned to Gray Wing for xeir wisdom. Xey were the one who saw through Clear Sky's cruelty, surely xey would know best.
And xeir ruling was... that Tall Shadow wasn't to be undermined. Xey had seen Jagged Peak starve and die, no matter how hard xey and Bright Stream hunted to feed all of them.
"Our ancestors spoke to us on my return with Thunder Storm. It would have been difficult to feed Jagged Peak, but he was one of ours, just as Thunder Storm is. Bumble... is not."
And Turtle Heart had deigned Gray Wing as godfather of the kittens, after all. They would be safe with him.
Betrayed, Bumble was cast into the forest, Acorn Swoop and Lightning Cry watching the kittens cry for their other mother with horror.
But if Gray Wing the Wise was saying it... surely they must not be seeing the truth.
When Thunder Storm returned from his time with Clear Sky, having witnessed the sick reality of his style of leadership, he was numbed to learn this. Then, he flew into a rage, shouting down every monster who'd turned Bumble out into a violent forest with a tyrant just beyond the border
When Gray Wing came forth to try and calm his adopted son, Thunder Storm shoved him back. "I didn't think I'd come home to find a second Clear Sky."
He was speechless as Thunder Storm rallied his friends, charging back into the woods to find Bumble before Clear Sky did.
Those words knocked around in their head. They sent him to learn from Clear Sky, and to see the good in him... but he came back furious. With Sunlit Frost, who had been cast out just like Jagged Peak.
...it was a wake up call. Xey'd sent xeir son to live with that ghoul. Xey'd cast their godkit's mother out into the wilderness. And now, xey were about to lose Thunder Storm too.
What had they done? Gray Wing rallied as many reinforcements as possible, admitting their mistake, and reminding them that Thunder Storm needed them now.
The battle that followed was the beginning of ThunderClan.
And, afterwards, Gray Wing dedicated themself to the strength of the budding Clan, creating plans for escape, travel, and battle as the nomadic group skittered around the forest to remain close to their nearest allies.
And still, it tugged at their heart that it had to be this way. The fact that Clear Sky wanted to eradicate everyone in the growing group was a hard pill to swallow, and he still had to excuse himself from the meetings when the topic of Clear Sky's raids came up.
Somehow, even though they were living in the reality where his violence was stark and undeniable... sometimes it didn't seem real. Like they'd fallen into a horrible nightmare.
It's even harder to breathe when xey have to think about it.
But they came to admit and apologize for their mistakes... especially to Bumble. She never did anything to deserve the fact he didn't have her back that day.
She forgives him in the sense that she doesn't hold anger towards him, but after that, she always has him emotionally at arm's length.
After the disastrous First Battle, the borders settled, and Gray Wing was finally able to relax, retiring peacefully and becoming the first elder.
The Trivia
He is older than he was in-canon, at least 7 years old when the cats first set out (instead of... 1 year old)
Xey were already respected for xeir wisdom in the mountain, and were pivotal in leading the group after the death of Shaded Flower, their leader.
After their retirement, Thunderstar is very concerned with caring for his aging father and his asthma. Dapple Pelt spent more time in ThunderClan than anywhere else, as Cloud Flight traveled between the groups with his services.
When Dapple Pelt died without a successor, Thunderstar felt desperate, watching Gray Wing struggle to breath.
It drove him to resort to serious negotiation tactics, to acquire a new doctor.
Thunderstar goes to great lengths to make Gray Wing as comfortable as possible. He takes care of all his cats this way, but he's known as a particularly devoted son. This established the precedent that a Clan is about its elders, and providing for them.
To battle for more territory, and to be strong, is to serve that ideal.
In terms of design, Gray Wing's meant to look like a wet beast lmao
Droopy ears, shaggy hood.
There will never be any biokits from Gray Wing. No. They have three children; Thunder Storm, Pebble Heart, and Sparrow Heart. These ARE real kits.
Pebble Heart becomes Owl Eyes later, earning the very first Honor Title.
If Slate exists, she won't be Gray Wing's mate. Having a mate just isn't in the card for xem.
I have half a mind to change all of the Skykin's last names to Sky, so Gray Wing becomes Gray Sky, and Jag becomes Jagged Sky... but, I'm holding off for now.
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
Maybe More People Are Arospec (Part 2)
Maybe More People Are Arospec, 2/3 -So explain the note from slide 5 : As a gray-aro, I want to clarify that most with this label experience gray-aromanticism differently. I can only speak for my own experiences, which is that I don't experience romantic attraction but (in the past) have experienced something that was close enough/briefly maybe the real thing (?) that I can know when attraction ISN'T romantic. (You can read more in my "Squishes vs. Crushes" comic by scrolling down further on my page 🐸) I’m only including this point because this ACTUAL conversation illustrates how much arospec people get told what we’re feeling, even when (in my case at least) we clearly know otherwise.
Which, speaking of - there are SO MANY MOMENTS in this part of the comic that are reinterpretations of things that I've genuinely experienced 😫😫 Sometimes I wonder what took me so long to accept my aromanticism, and moments like what I showed, especially the speech bubbles in the second last slide - gosh. There's a lot to unpack there 🙃 I think if there’s one thing that really surprised me to realize as I made this series, it’s the amount of casual arophobia that’s just … woven into so many stories and common ideologies. And though there’s a lot of work that needs to be done on that front, I will say that on the bright side realizing my identity has allowed me to confront and start to unlearn these harmful sentiments. Like actually understanding it’s not my FAULT that I’m arospec, nor is the expression of my aromanticism a fault of any kind to begin with - it’s really helped improve my mental health these past few years 💚💚
I've also got an update more about my personal life in the comments! But barring that, hello everyone, I'm glad to have this up now and I hope you're all doing well too and taking care of yourself this *holiday* season 🐸💚!!!
[Image Description:
Slide 1: Celia again sits on a green armchair in a living room. "Feelings are murky, and romantic attraction is perhaps the most poorly defined of them all. Ask any two people, and you'll get different answers"
Slide 2: "So … wouldn't it be logical to assume that because society categorizes ANY strong positive emotion for others as romantic love -"
Drawing of a classroom (based off of something Celia would have seen growing up in Health class anyway). Teacher, a faceless ginger woman stands talking gesturing towards a screen.
Screen says: "Signs of romantic love", with smaller icons underneath labelled "you think about them often", "you want to plan a future with them", "you always feel like smiling when you're with them"
The teacher says "True love is a wonderful experience - we'll be going over some of the ways …"
Slide 3: Continued text from last slide "-that maybe, a lot of people miscategorize their feelings for people (especially 'straight' attraction) as romantic attraction?
In this scene a girl seems to be flustered by an aesthetically attractive man winking at her. But in the background you see her thoughts, which ramble on:
"Wow he is so cool! And … he's talking to me? OH MY GOD. Oh no my hair is sucha mess I hope it looks okay? At least I'm wearing my matching hair bows today … Wait do I have a CRUSH on him? I .. don't think so. But I'm also feeling butterflies right? Doesn't that mean I like him?"
Slide 4: "I've been told when I've described my squishes -"
Celia standing in the scene against a blank background. She's describing a squish to someone off panel.
"I don't really know how to describe it … like for some reason you just feel safer and happier to be around them, and you want them to be present in your life, for a long time -"
Someone off panel says "Oh, that just means you're in love" - which is noted in the bottom of the panel that this was referring to romantic love, based on an actual conversation Celia has had.
Slide 5: Celia responds to previous panel. She looks unimpressed and says "… I'm gray-aromantic. I know what a 'crush' feels like. I know that isn't it."
(another note directs reader to description for more information)
Slide 6: Shot switches back to Celia in her armchair. She says "I've heard aros who dated before they realized their identity say that they thought everyone just played along with social norms for romance"
Slide 7: "So I wonder, in a society that demonizes those who say they don't feel the same 'spark' that everyone else describes -"
A boy is drawn sitting at a desk as though in school. In the background speech bubbles paraphrasing common arophobic sentiments in the background:
"He's evil. Of course he wouldn't understand what it means to feel love."
"But like, why can't she feel the same way for him? He's perfect for her - I just don't get what's WRONG with her"
"He's so weird - did you hear how he's never been in a relationship?"
Slide 8: Shot back to Celia in her armchair. She asks the reader "How many people are actually alloromantic?"]
918 notes
·
View notes
Note
feelin down and i just love this blog sm. i was wondering if u had any dtk (or kidstar) hc’s u wanted to share maybe. if not though i hope u have a wonderful day, seeing u on my dash always makes me smile.
OH MY GOD A SOUL EATER ASK?? /POS
i just got a huge serotonin boost tysm anon
YES I DO I JUST GOTTA GO GRAB EM
dtk:
the older Kid gets the less human he seems. Like once he's a full shinigami he gets a whole bunch of power that his dad had that sort of strip away his likeness to humans
going off of ^^ I think Kid's human form is constructed. His true form probably looks more like LD but it's not something he was particularly taught to embody/access so he just sorta stays in his human form
HOWEVER, I really like the idea that Kid just sorta.. generally freaks people out. There's a theory of horror that says monster characters can feel scary just because even though they look it, people can tell they are not quite human. and i think Kid has exactly that effect on people
Kid has regenerative powers because his human form is more of a construct/image than an actual biological organism. he's really made of the same stuff from LD's "cape". so he can't really be killed or severely injured for long, especially as he matures and gets more powerful. I think the only way he can take permanent damage is if his soul itself is affected. Sure he can be hurt and it does hurt but soon he learns to sort of turn off extreme pain, and he always ALWAYS regenerates or recovers. But he's always aware that his friends don't. so if he needs to he'll throw himself in front of his human friends if they're dealt a fatal hit to make sure they aren't severely hurt. This becomes a bad habit when he's older. But his friends always try to protect him too and take care of him, and he unlearns the habit
Liz and Patty set him up on social media and he started with a whopping 1 follower for like a week, but then got millions of followers overnight after Soul (who has a good following count bc of his family's social status) mentioned him and everyone freaked out. That was the way the world found out Lord Death's kid existed. He and Soul destroy bullies together online. Patty pretends to be Kid on his account.
Kid is the Adrien Agreste of soul eater. very popular, people love the image they see of him in the news and interviews and stuff (I think its a lot harder for him to avoid publicity after the anime), but he's a lot different in person and only really gets close to the people who get to know him. everyone else has a sort of skewed perception of him. AKA he is Death's Son and Death's son only to them
Kid can sing but he typically doesn't because he likes to prepare first but doesn't particularly want to take the time to learn a song correctly. He appreciates the art but wouldn't do it. the only thing he knows well is some ancient song his dad taught him in some sort of inhuman language. he sang it ONE time and it freaked Liz out so much she didn't speak to him for a week
Before Kid took them in, Liz would sing ONLY for Patty. And only to comfort her. She did this after they moved into the manor too, when Patty would get nightmares from their life before or just generally have a hard time or anything. One time after Patty woke up from a nightmare and Liz went in to calm her down, Kid was walking by and just stopped at the almost-closed door when he heard Liz singing because A. He wants to know if his sisters are ok and B. He probably doesn't hear many people sing casually, and has definitely never heard Liz sing before and it's... nice?? He stays there for a while but moves on the second Liz finishes so he's not caught. He doesn't say anything. But then after one awful awful mission, Liz is singing to help Patty sleep and Kid just. Stands in the doorway, disheveled and exhausted and they all just,, stare at each other for a moment until Patty opens her arms and Kid shuffles over, a little embarrassed and puts his head in her lap. They are all very tired. And then Liz (after getting over herself) just keeps singing until the two of them fall asleep
Kid only knows how to cry/to cry when he's upset because he saw Maka do it when they were young and now he's a pro. Because he only really LOOKS human a lot of human behavior doesn't come naturally for him so he learns from humans around him. He's much better at mimicking and adopting human behavior than Lord Death, which was LD's whole idea
He's shorter than Liz and Patty until he's about 20, then he's shorter than Liz but taller than Patty
Kid can pick up languages really easily. I think if he's immersed he can speak fluently after a couple hours
I've thought about a thing where individual people outside of Death City think he looks different than how anyone else sees him, like a sort of PJO Aphrodite situation but that may be too much of an identity crisis for him lol
There are no government records confirming Kid exists. The only document or ID he has is that little card from LD that says I'm LD's son I can do what I want and nobody questions it
Kid's human form ages normally until he's an adult but when he's mature his aging slows until it finally stops at some point, not sure when.. maybe around appearing 40?
he is gay and ace and has a very loose concept of gender
only Liz and Patty can touch his hair but only when they're at home
Kid and Maka are besties I don't make the rules. She is the only one he will allow to help with his detective work
Kid and Patty cannot be left unsupervised together or there will be some sort of chaos. they are scarily effective on duo missions, even though Kid doesn't use Patty as a weapon for those occasions
Kid doesn't need to sleep but he does if there are other people around (having Liz and Patty in the house helps) because it's refreshing and he read somewhere it helps build trust
Eyes glow in the dark and he can see fine in the dark
Kidstar:
They're about the same height but Black Star gets a growth spurt and is a few inches taller when they're adults
Kid figures out his feelings first (takes a bit rip) but doesn't do anything about them because he feels like he can't because of his responsibilities
^^ That being said I think Black Star has always been generally aware of his feelings for Kid but he doesn't actually put two and two together until literally the moment before he makes his move lol
I don't think they refer to the other as their boyfriend specifically (at least not often) they just sorta... idk man they're partners, they can't describe their relationship in words dont look at me i'm sobbing
first kiss in the rain lets go
majority of physical affection they do is like. hand holding or light touches on the shoulder or arm it is very special to them
more of a future thing (i got a whole future au so ofc i'll talk abt a future thing lol) i dont think they'd ever feel the need to get married bc they're both stubborn and they got all of eternity to be together and I think a lot of their relationship just generally remains unlabelled and unspoken it just IS
OH sort of ignoring my second kidstar hc I had a hc they got together sometime before the mission to the arctic but nobody except like. Killik knew
For funsies I'll throw in a couple of Black Star headcanons
Tsubaki is teaching him Japanese and how to cook
^^ he likes to cook for his friends even though he's not that good at it yet
Mom is Latina I have some stuff about her here. He starts to learn Spanish after he finds out about her
First partner and first kiss was Killik but they had a mutual and friendly break up
Somehow beats mortality while remaining human idk how he just does ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
That is all I can think of right now but I hope you enjoy :)
#some is angst but not all of it#i tried to keep it light :)#death the kid#soul eater headcanons#black star#liz thompson#patty thompson
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Grand homestuck oc tournament poll! Round 3 winners!
the results are tallied, the dust has settled, its time to see who is left standing!
----------------------------------------------------------------
Auiwyn Trasyl
The silliest, most self deprecating emo you’ll ever have the displeasure of meeting. His favorite movies would be the troll twilight saga, and they would make fanfiction of his rainbow drinker oc and Troll Edward. They have such a large obsession with rainbow drinkers that it’s consumed almost everything in his life. They would geek out if they ever met Kanaya, it would be so bad they’d probably faint. Would bite people to taste the blood and then gag when it tastes bad.
----------------------------------------------------------------
zalium azoran
Zalium is a rogue fuchsiablood who was raised by an axolotl lusus away from the prying eyes of the alternian empire. eventually he was able to find community in the lower bloodcastes of alternia and here he learned about alternian history from a true perspective.
he gathered an aliance, heavily inspired by the sufferer's rebellion, and rises up against the empire. being a highblood he held a greater chance against the empress and gl'bgolyb, and after a strenuous battle he manages to take down the horrorterror and the empress in turn
i don't even care if he's bad i love him so dearly
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Anomal Conspi
One of the most brilliant, anxiety ridden queens on her whole planet. She’s so paranoid that she has a backup plan for just about anything. She predicted the world was going to end via meteors and had a ship fully ready to go for several years, and had a mental breakdown when she ended up being right. Overthinking is her strongest skill, making plans for her plans just in case something she didn’t think of happened. Her ship, despite being made of old and ruined tech, is so heavily equipped with safety features that she should probably be in charge of OSHA because ain’t no one getting hurt on that thing. Would go outside in a hamster bubble.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Viiveh Telore (Now with new and improved art!)
Viiveh is a fuchsia blood in an abusive relationship trying to forge his own destiny. He tries to stay positive and is unlearning some classist traits. He goes to the surface and hides his blood color by dressing like a robot. He really loves tech and the mechanics of it, since the seadwellers can mainly only use bug-based tech underwater. He takes the name Vexxin during his hiding. Don't get him started on troll Daft Punk.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
ALERT: bLOCK 5 HAS ENDED IN A TIE, ONE DAY TIE BREAKER ROUND TO OCCUR SOON
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Atroxx
Atroxx lives in a swamp full of boiling tar, lurking in the dark and serving as something of a dark legend to the locals. They fear her and often leave her sacrifices, believing her to be a monster or some sort of demon. She just likes getting free things out of it and sometimes toys with the minds those who wander a little too far out of the torchlight, taunting them from within the darkness. If you survive an encounter with her, she's not very eloquent, and is quite stubborn and impatient, unpredictable and almost wild in behavior. She is also, however, incredibly resourceful and clever.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Lollie Gravez
Your name is LOLLIE GRAVEZ and you use ne/nem/nir, sh3/h3r/h3rz and h3/h1m/h1z. You are a SCENE KID first and foremost, and a troll second.
You love COMICS, CARTOONS, and SHIPPING, and listen to way too much ALTERNATIVE MUSIC. You send a lot of your spare time SEWING CLOTHES, both for yourself and your PLETHORA OF PLUSH FRIENDS. You spend way too much money on VIDEO GAMES, that you never get around to playing. When you aren’t hiding in your room away from the world, you love watching shows with your friends, then making self inserts for all your friends. Your squad loves the troll anime SUGIO QUEST FOR KOKORO, despite it being outlawed for rebel imagery.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Orfeus Etimio
Orfeus is soft spoken, docile and as weak as a troll gets, but people tend to fear them because of the horde of ghosts following them everywhere, even for those that can't see spirits the presence is overwhelming.
They constantly give more than they can for the ghosts and have ended up emotionally drained, not properly reacting to most situations and appearing emotionless. İf you grabbed them and took them home they'd only say "ok" and let it happen.
They like playing minecraft with their moirail also
-------------------------------------------------------------
Persep “Perse” Rhiali
She streams, she draws, she always has a knife on her, with a small size and big personality Perse WILL either be your friend or A Problem (TM)
------------------------------------------------------
?????? Achlys
19 yo Mage of Void hemoanon, Achlys is a air-headed party girl who likes to take it easy, life is definitely too short to be worried about every little thing. She's quite friendly for a troll and always knows what to say to please people. She changes quadrants pretty often.
However when SGRUB begins she seems to know just where to look to learn all the rules and easily makes herself the leader before anyone notices. Not to mention her fake lusus and dreamself that seems to be puppeted by horrorterrors…
---------------------------------------------------------------
25 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
kateksmallcuteowl
🇺🇦KateK_s_c_o🇺🇦
astrometriia
*✧ we are STARSTUFF.
cicoqubujoc
Untitled
dilangit-senja
Cerita Boneka Dadu
mameenaskhsi
Aarti Nursing